What do you have planned for the next twenty four hours? Many of us
will discover, or re-discover, on this Yom Kippur, that in a single day we
are capable of doing something significant. Changing our lives in a single
day is not without effort, but it is possible.
I don’t know who wrote the following, but it’s a good piece of wisdom:
Imagine there’s a bank that credits your account each morning with
$86,400. You can use all of this money, but there are conditions. You must
use the money for a good purpose. And whatever money you don’t use will
disappear when the day is over.
86,400 are the number of seconds in a day. So the lesson is that we
need to make the most of each day because we will never have the chance to
live a day over again.
Yom Kippur teaches a slightly different lesson. That is, that we are
capable of living with a little bit less than we have. If I asked if you could
live without food, you would say, “Of course not,” but today you will prove
once again that you are indeed more capable than you might have realized.
What a difference a day makes.
If you can go twenty four to twenty six hours without food, what else
can you do? Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, in his book Words that Hurt, Words
that Heal (yes, it’s in the library), gives us a challenge:
Can we go twenty four hours without speaking l’shon hara?
L’shon hara literally means, “the tongue of evil.” It refers to the
Jewish prohibition of using words improperly. Examples of l’shon hara include:
If this theme sounds familiar, I looked back in my files and discovered
that I spoke about the same topic seven years ago on Kol Nidre night. This
is appropriate since our ancestors in ancient Israel were guided by a seven
year cycle.
So, back to the question. You can give up food, but can you give up
improper use of words for even a single day, let alone give it up for good?
I imagine that your first reaction is, “What’s the big deal about
improper speech?” With all the problems going on in the world, don’t we
have more important things to worry about?
Well, for one thing, there’s not a lot I can do about all of the world’s
problems on my own, but I can start talking more kindly. Second of all,
when we look at the machzor, we see that there is a big concern about the
way we use and misuse speech.
The kol nidre itself stems from the basic human frailty of speaking
before thinking, of making promises that we cannot fulfill. When we
conclude the Amidah, the central prayer of every service, we recite a private
meditation which begins, “O Lord, guard my tongue from evil.” And
tonight we begin to recite the Al Chet, the confession of our sins. When you
look over that list note how many are sins of the tongue:
We ask forgiveness for the transgressions of: deriding parents and
teachers; foul speech; falsehood; scoffing; idle chatter; plotting against
others; false oaths; offensive talk; empty confession; foolish talk; slander;
gossip.
Again, you might say, “OK, we do a lot of that, and we shouldn’t, but
other than being annoying, how bad can it be?"
A penguin walked into a bar and asked the bartender, “Do you have
any fish?” The bartender said, “No.” The next day the penguin entered the
bar and asked the same question, “Do you have any fish?” and the bartender
replied, “No.” This went on for several days until the bartender said
angrily, “If you ask me that one more time, I’m going to nail your beak to
the bar.” So the next day the penguin entered the bar and asked, “Do you
have any nails?” The bartender said, “No.” So the penguin said, “In that
case, do you have any fish?”
In Jewish tradition, we understand that bad language is more than
annoying, it is potentially harmful.
The prophet Jeremiah (9:7) compares the tongue to a sharp arrow. If
you draw a sword upon someone and then change your mind, you simply
put the sword away and no harm is done. If you shoot an arrow at your
target, and then change your mind, it’s too late, and that’s the problem with
improper speech–once spoken, it can never be stopped from hitting its
target.
If you steal, you can return the stolen object. If you speak harshly, if
you insult, if you gossip about someone, if you betray a confidence, you
might do permanent damage which is unable to be simply “taken back.”
In the military we are too familiar with the tragedy of “friendly fire,”
where people mistakenly kill their own side. Rabbi Jack Riemer describes
what he considers another form of “friendly fire.”
You come home after a hard day, and take out frustrations upon those
you love. The wrong words come out, such as: “Leave me alone; can’t you
see you’re annoying me” and far worse examples. You feel bad for what
you said, but it’s too late to take it back. As Rabbi Riemer puts it so well:
Nobody got shot, but somebody got hurt.
Even when you regret having said the wrong thing, it’s not so easy to
heal the wounds you have caused. In a famous story, someone comes to the
rabbi to ask how to atone for l’shon hara. The rabbi instructs the
congregant to cut open a feather pillow outside in the wind, and then try to
re-collect all the feathers. It’s impossible, just like the attempt to take back
the words you have spoken.
So why don’t we just stop talking improperly in the first place. First
we need to take the prohibition of l’shon hara seriously, as seriously as do
our rabbis and the editors of our Machzor. Another expression for the
mitzvah of proper speech is shemirat halashon, meaning “The Guarding of
the Tongue.” The one who practices proper speech is therefore called a
shomer lashon, similar to the phrase, shomer shabbos.
It’s not easy to be a shomer shabbat, but it is a goal we should strive to
attain. And we should strive to be a shomer lashon, a much more attainable
goal, if we just put our mind to it.
Another obstacle in our pursuit to avoid improper speech is that we are
surrounded by it. It’s all around us. On TV, there are the endless rounds of
ridiculous talk shows. A woman tells Maury or Jerry or whomever, “I’m
having an affair with my neighbor, but my husband doesn’t know it,” and
I’m thinking, “He knows it now.”
There is the trash talk from our favorite athletes, celebrities and
politicians. Roseanne, when her marriage ended with Tom Arnold,
remarked that she’s not upset about being divorced, she’s only sorry she’s
not a widow. Former Senator Jesse Helms once remarked that if former
President Clinton were to visit North Carolina, he’d better be wearing a
bullet proof vest. And an anonymous critic of Bill Clinton added, “Where is
Lee Harvey Oswald now that we need him?”
To make matters worse, a recent news story touts the health benefits of
gossip. I kid you not. A psychologist at an Ivy League school said, “Not
participating in gossip at some level can be unhealthy and abnormal.”
These are just some of the frustrations and obstacles we learn to live
with because we are Jews. When the world around us is supportive of
Judaism, that makes things easier, but we must not change who we are just
because we are different. This report on gossip reminds me of the medical
reports challenging the benefits of circumcision. We don’t practice brit
milah because it’s popular, we do so because it’s a mitzvah. And we need
to refrain from gossip despite what leading psychologists might say to the
contrary.
On our path to proper speech we have plenty to overcome. We need to
undo the damage done when Ali McGraw told us that “Love means never
having to say you’re sorry,” or the lack of wisdom in our children being
taught, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt
me.”
Here’s how important words are. The biblical book of Proverbs 18:21
instructs that life and death are in the tongue. In our holy texts, the world is
created not through physical force, but through words–barukh she’amar
v’hayah ha’olam. Blessed is the One who spoke and the world came to be.
On the extreme opposite end of the spectrum, Hitler, yimach sh’mo, began
his campaign of evil by writing words, Mein Kampf.
Granted we don’t always mean harm in what we say. A minister
taught his congregation to respond to his prayers with the words, “And you
too.” The minister would say, “The Lord be with you,” and the
congregation would respond, “And you, too.” Once, during a sermon, the
minister said in frustration, “There’s something wrong with this
microphone,” and the congregation responded, “and you, too.”
More than just saying mean words, we suffer from speaking about
people behind their back. This is not a new phenomenon. In the Talmud
(Arakhin 15b-16a), Rabbah praises Rabbi Yosi, who said: I never said
anything about a person that would make me look back to see if that person
were standing behind me.”
What a great role model. A synagogue president once told the rabbi
that he should not attend board meetings. The reason given is that perhaps
someone might say something offensive to the rabbi. The rabbi replied,
“Well if it’s offensive to me, then it shouldn’t be said at all.”
There aren’t many things worse than entering a room and having the
feeling that people were just talking about you. We can all make that
feeling go away by just stopping the talking about other people, by
following the lead of Rabbi Yosi, by never again having to worry that the
person about whom you are speaking is just around the corner.
Talk about something else. Talk about yourself. Better still, listen to
others tell you about themselves. And what about when someone begins to
tell you the gossip. What to do? Caller ID allows us to screen our
unwanted calls. Wouldn't it be great if a device could screen l'shon hara.
Until such time, if you are talking on the phone and the conversation turns
to a topic you feel is inappropriate, you can always say, "I have to go now,
something just came up." What came up--the inappropriate topic.
R.Eleazar said: Why do a person's fingers resemble plugs? In order to
suggest that when one hears something unseemly, he should plug his ears
with his fingers. (Ketubot 5b)
When someone asks, “Would you like to hear a secret, tell him or her,
“If you tell me, that it’s no longer going to be a secret.”
R. Simeon ben Gamaliel said to his slave Tabi, "Go to the market and
buy me a good piece of meat." So Tabi went out and bought him a tongue.
Later, R. Simeon said to Tabi, "Go out and buy me a bad piece of meat at
the market." Tabi went out and again bought him a tongue. R. Simeon ben
Gamaliel asked him, "Why, when I asked you to buy me a good piece of
meat, did you buy a tongue, and when I asked you to buy a bad piece of
meat, did you again buy me a tongue?" Tabi replied, "Because from the
tongue comes good, and from it comes also evil. When it is good, nothing is
better than it; and when it is bad, nothing is more evil than it." Lev. R. 33:1
Barukh She’amar v’hayah ha’olam. With words a world is created.
Insult, lie, gossip, betray confidence, and you destroy a world. Use your
words wisely and lovingly, say I’m sorry, thank you, I love you, We haven’t
spoken in a while, I just wanted to see how you are doing? And you might
just create a new world. Barukh she’amar v’hayah ha’olam.
Use this day, use your physical hunger, to change your ways. While
no food is going in, learn and re-learn how to channel better what comes out
of your mouth. Take the Telushkin challenge. Be a true shomer mitzvot–a
shomer shabbas and a shomer lashon. One day at a time toward a better
you, a better world.