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I think it’s a joke. It might be a parable. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.
Once there was a town drunk who was forever lying in a stupor by the side of the road. Every day, the Bishop would ride past in his carriage and look at this miserable creature with disgust and disdain.Finally, the Bishop decided to teach him a lesson. He had him dragged unconscious into the carriage, then brought him to his own house, where he had his servants wash him, comb his hair, and dress him in the Bishop’s grand clothing. Then they put him to sleep in the Bishop’s own bed.
When the poor drunkard awoke, he was amazed by his surroundings, and even more amazed when he got out of bed and looked at himself in a full-length mirror. He stared in bewilderment, then began to lament: “Who am I? Am I really the Bishop and I just think that I’m the town drunk, or am I really the town drunk and I just think that I’m the Bishop?”
It was a dilemma. Then the drunkard had an idea: Sooner or later, the time would come for the Bishop to pray, and his servants would bring him his prayer book. “If I know how to read the prayer book,” he reasoned, “obviously I’m the Bishop; and if I don’t, obviously I’m the town drunk.”
In due time the prayer book was brought to him. He opened it and turned page after page, but to his distress he couldn’t make out a single word. He stood in front of the mirror, dressed in the Bishop’s magnificent vestments, and cried bitterly in the realization that he was indeed the disgusting town drunk.
Then he was struck by a lightning bolt of understanding. Lifting his hands to heaven, he said, “Ah, but who says the Bishop knows how to read?”
It begins like the old Chinese "Am I a butterfly dreaming I am a man or a man dreaming I am a butterfly dreaming I'm a man." And then it goes off toward a joke punchline.
Some jokes are parables, though parables are rarely jokes.
May have something to do with religious senses of humor. Or not.
Jane
I'm pretty sure I have a sense of humor, but a lot of rabbinical stories leave me wondering whether I've gotten the point, or rather whether I've gotten the right point; and if I have, what lesson I'm supposed to take from it. On the other hand, they're good stories.
Why do you bother me with such foolishness? That question is so simple even my coachman can answer it.
Traditionally, proper Jewish jokes are only funny in Yiddish.
Gosh -- what did they tell before they had Yiddish to tell it in?
I believe that large parts of the Talmud are devoted to analyzing how funny the jokes all will be when Yiddish is invented.
Does anyone else think this might be how Bush decided he was an "oil man?"
Must be a parable because it sure ain't a joke.
I guess Sephardic Jews never told Jewish jokes, or at least, no funny ones. They're not big Yiddish speakers.
So anyway, these two Sephardic Jews walk into a bar....
Actually, I just read an article (with samples of it) about Ladino, aka Judeo-Spanish, which was the language a lot of Sephardic Jews spoke; it's now largely a dead language. Being someone who speaks Spanish well, as well as knowing a bit of Yiddish from my mother, I can say that Ladino:Spanish::Yiddish:German. fQuie9n supo?
Now he's still in that house, still holding that position and having someone else read the prayers, and the Bishop can't get back in.
I think you are all missing the point. It is a parable, and the purpose it serves is to show that no matter what you wear on the outside, no matter what you are dressed to represent you are still the town drunk on the inside. Holyness is found in the spirit not in the vestments.