In thrice-daily prayers, devout Jews praise the God “who brings life to the dead”—a phrase that occurs four times in a single blessing. Matt Austerklein analyzes the now-commonplace tune to which that prayer is sung, and then points to the historical evidence that “the root of music across the world [lies] in sorcery and supernatural power, including over life and death itself.” Take, for instance,

Europe’s oldest surviving manuscript, the Derveni Papyrus (c. 340 BCE). Among the book’s contents are the sorcerer-author’s detailed analysis of a hymn that could revive the dead. This may sound like mumbo-jumbo, but bears similarities to the Greek legend of Orpheus, who similarly wielded his musical skill to bring back his wife from the underworld.

Yet, while Jews reject such shamanistic practices of ancient and modern pagans, Austerklein writes, they do not reject the idea of resurrecting the dead. Rather,

the God of the Bible is the ultimate shaman—not us. The magical thinking of shamanic traditions worldwide credit the human being as the channel for divine energies, wielding the powers of healing and revival through their esoteric musicology and incantations. The Hebrew has no different of an experience—yet acknowledges that it is not human machinations but relationship with God that resurrects the world.

For the Bible, and for Jews, it is God who ultimately wields power, brings the waters, heals the sick, releases the imprisoned, and revives the dead. It is God alone who is the ultimate musician.

Yesterday, the Iranian foreign minister flew to Geneva to meet with European diplomats. President Trump, meanwhile, indicated that cease-fire negotiations might soon begin with Iran, which would presumably involve Tehran agreeing to make concessions regarding its nuclear program, while Washington pressures Israel to halt its military activities. According to Israeli media, Iran already began putting out feelers to the U.S. earlier this week. Aviram Bellaishe considers the purpose of these overtures:

The regime’s request to return to negotiations stems from the principle of deception and delay that has guided it for decades. Iran wants to extricate itself from a situation of total destruction of its nuclear facilities. It understands that to save the nuclear program, it must stop at a point that would allow it to return to it in the shortest possible time. So long as the negotiation process leads to halting strikes on its military capabilities and preventing the destruction of the nuclear program, and enables the transfer of enriched uranium to a safe location, it can simultaneously create the two tracks in which it specializes—a false facade of negotiations alongside a hidden nuclear race.