D'var Torah

This week's Torah portion opens with the phrase Elu Devarim…These are the words. This opening refers to Moses’ words to the Israelite people as they prepare to complete their journey through the wilderness and make their way into the Land of Israel. This is the first portion of the Book of Deuteronomy – the last book of our Torah, which recaps the entirety of the Israelite’s wandering after they left Egypt. Of course, I have read this portion dozens of times but this year I didn’t make it past the second word – Devarim – WORDS.
 
We are living in a time when all words feel more highly charged than ever before. Words — at work to our colleagues, our leaders to our country, and parents to children – are both weighty and weighed. We know words can do great damage or they can heal; through them, people attack one another or comfort one another. Words create worlds, conceive, mislead, give insight, stoke fear, and promote understanding. We use them to commit to action. We use them to express our love. In our Torah, we read that God used words to create the world for which we are responsible. God used words to create us, humanity.  Our Jewish tradition is clear – WORDS – have sacred power, and we speakers are responsible for everything we say.
 
In 2016 on Rosh Hashanah, I gave a sermon which I called “Speech as a Sacred Practice.” You can read the entire sermon here: https://www.templerodefshalom.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Schwartzman-RH-2016-Final.pdf. At a time when we cannot control what others are saying around us, Judaism reminds us that we can and should be thoughtful, intentional and caring, thus controlling our own words. In the sermon I shared these two thoughts from two renown rabbis:
 

Rabbi Israel Salanter, who founded Judaism’s mindfulness movement, understood how weighty and important each word in a conversation can be. He suggests that in order to create thoughtful speech we need to slow down our normal pace of communication – to make time to review our words before they leave our mouths. So often, we talk just to talk. We exaggerate to make things more interesting. We speak ill of others because it gives us a sense of power. This was as true 200 years ago when Rabbi Salanter lived as it is today. And so he suggests that before speaking we pause and ask ourselves three questions: 1. Is it true? 5 2. Is it kind? 3. Is it necessary? Is it true; is it kind; is it necessary? What a simple and helpful, clear and compelling guideline.
 
The Baal Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidic Judaism teaches that every person is allocated a set number of words to use for our entire lifetime. Once we reach our quota, we depart from this world. I find this imagery very compelling. How would our everyday speech change if we really believed this?  Since I don’t know how many words I was born to speak, and have no idea how many words I have left to speak, do I want to waste my last words saying “You idiot!” or worse?

In an era when so many are using their words to foment hatred, to hurt others, to breed mistrust and break apart communities, we might ask ourselves how are we using our allotted words? Do we speak to uplift or to crush? To abuse or to heal? So many words stay with us for our lifetimes – the first words of our children; the final goodbye of a parent or spouse or friend. And so many words in between, said at special events, unexpected moments and throughout the most mundane hours of lives. What are the words by which we will be remembered? Our ancient tradition says, “words are like arrows, once released they cannot be taken back, and arriving at their target, they burrow deep inside.” Like a sword, they can do terrible damage. But like a seed planted in deep in fertile ground, they can cultivate something beautiful and new; something that comes from love and offers love.
 
On this shabbat and beyond, may we use our devarim—words for good.

Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Amy Schwartzman