Shabbat Bereshit

Written by Janet Darley Friday, 24 October 2008

When I was a boy and fancy free,
My folks had no fine clothes for me.
All I got was words:
Got tsu danken   (Thank God)
Zoln mir lebn un zeyn gezunt. (We should live and be well)

When I was wont to travel far,
They didn’t provide for me a car.
All I got was words:
Gey gezunt    (Go in health)
Gey palmelekh   (Go slowly)
Hob a gliklekhe rayse.  (Have a good trip)

I wanted to increase my knowledge
But they couldn’t send me to college.
All I got was words:
Hob seykhel    (Have common sense)
Zey nisht keyn nar   (Don’t be a fool)
Toyre iz di beste skhoyre.  (Torah is the best merchandise)

The years have flown,
the world has turned,
things I’ve gotten, things I’ve learned.
Yet I remember
Zog dem emes   (Tell the truth)
Gib tsedukeh    (Give tzedakah)
Hob rakhmones   (Have compassion)
Zey a mensch!    (Be a mensch!)

As this poem by an unknown, undoubtedly immigrant poet shows words are important in our culture. So much so, that we should perhaps be called the people of the words rather than the people of the book.
 
Our religious tradition also provides many teachings concerning the importance and power of words. A good example is parashat Bereshit. The first thing we have in Torah is a detailed account of the creation of the world. The process of creation is highlighted by a step by step description. Each element of creation begins with God’s direction and is then followed by the signal that this element has been created. And how, according to Torah, did God carry out this work?
וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, יְהִי אוֹר; וַיְהִי-אוֹר. “God said ‘let there be light’, and there was light” (Gen. 1:3), etc. Except for human beings, the entire universe was supposedly created through the power of God’s words.

Well, the creation story presented in Genesis is certainly not a scientific account by any means. We learn little about the actual creation of the world, but we can gain some significant moral insights. Among the moral teachings it has for us is an incredible example of the power of words.

We can find a number of other illustrations of the power of words in our religious tradition. In his commentary on Numbers 20:8ff, Sforno explains that Moses was not allowed to enter the “promised land” because of violating the command “Take the staff and speak to the rock.”

Sforno then discusses three types of “miracles”. The lowest order, he suggests, is totally consistent with nature, such as the falling of dew and the escape from sickness. The second is a very unusual natural event performed by God which follows an human action commanded by God, such as Moses casting down his staff in front of Pharaoh.

The highest order is an event contrary to nature, performed by God on the basis of human speech alone. Sforno states “This is an intellectual act and is more important than physical actions, as in the case when the mouth of the earth opened, as it is said ‘It came to pass when he finished speaking, the ground opened’ (Num. 16:31). And thus in the matter of the sun standing still for Joshua: ‘and then Joshua spoke’” (Joshua10:12).

But our tradition also teaches us of the bad that can come from misuse of words.

Throughout parashat Bereshit, speech, the same tool God used to create the universe, is repeatedly used by people in ways, which, in contrast to God’s use, are anything but constructive. Humans use words to make excuses, rather than holding themselves accountable for their own actions.

For example, Adam blames Eve: “The woman You gave to be with me – she gave me of the tree, and I ate” (Gen. 3: 12). Similarly, after eating the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, Eve blames the snake. “The serpent deceived me, and I ate” (Gen. 3:13). Later on in the parashah, Cain deflects God’s question about Abel with a question of his own: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Gen. 4:9).

These descriptions of human interaction teach us much about human nature. We can certainly see how easy it is for us to misuse our command of words. I have always remembered my father’s injunction to me to let my word be my bond; to not make promises I couldn’t keep and to keep the ones I did make.

God's tool of creation was language, and language is also a way we create or destroy worlds and lives. We are told that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Prov. 18: 21). The book of Ecclesiasticus from the Apocrypha warns us, “Many have fallen by the edge of the sword, but not so many as have fallen by the tongue.” (Ecclus. 28:18)

Torah contains a number of instructions to us concerning our words: “Do not carry false rumours” (Exod. 23:1). We are also enjoined to not go as a talebearer among our people (Lev. 19:16).

We know our words, once uttered, develop a life of their own. Most of us know the folk tale about Yettele, the old woman who talked and talked, embroidering her tales a bit here and there and perhaps making up something when she really didn’t have anything to say. When she sadly found that many of the people in her shtetl would no longer talk to her, she went to her Rabbi and asked for help. He told her he could help her and instructed her to go and bring him her largest feather pillow. He then instructed her to stand outside and cut it open. Of course the feathers flew everywhere. She reported that she had done as she had been instructed and inquired if that was it. “No”, the Rabbi said—“Now go and pick up the feathers.”

I am sure most of us have found ourselves at one time or another in the uncomfortable position of wishing we could grab back our words and swallow them. One of those horrible moments when you can almost see them float out of your mouth in a speech bubble, but you know you can’t get them back.

There is certainly a stark dichotomy between the creative force of God’s voice and the destructive force of lashon ha-Ra. Genesis 1:26 tells us we were made in God’s image. Our tradition teaches that one way in which this is so is that we have a choice over our actions. We can choose how we use our ability to speak—we can choose to use our voices in constructive rather than in destructive ways. We can command our words and take charge of them.

Another implication of being created in God’s image is that each person is a reflection of the sacred image of God. When we look at others we should see that divine image reflected back. Our sages state that one who profanes the sacred (e.g., embarrasses a friend publicly) denies his or her own share in the “world to come” (Pirke Avot 3:11). Unfortunately it is all too easy to embarrass a person publicly, sometimes in the guise of being helpful. It can be tempting to seize an opportunity to demonstrate our own knowledge at the expense of another. To abuse, neglect or otherwise harm another person is to act destructively toward God’s creation and thereby, arguably, towards God. Words are often the agents of this harm.

Sticks and Stones (Herb Warren) 

“Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words could never hurt me.”
And this I knew was surely true
And truth could not desert me.

But now I know it is not so,
I’ve changed the latter part;
For sticks and stones may break the bones
But words can break the heart.

Sticks and stones may break the bones
But leave the spirit whole,
But simple words can break the heart
Or silence crush the soul.
 
At every service we pray at the end of the Amidah for the ability to gain control of our tongues and to use our words for good. And there is so much good we can use our speech for:

• To comfort the ill and console the bereaved,
• To support and encourage family and friends,
• To celebrate joyous occasions,
• To make peace in our families, our communities.

Like the unknown author of our first poem, may we remember the words of wisdom handed down to us. May we recognize the power of our words and find ways to use our speech not to hurt and destroy, but to build and to create.