Soulful Speech

Yaakov understood the importance of his mission. His father intended to bless one of his children. The berachah would determine the future of the Jewish people. Yaakov knew that he needed to be the one to be blessed.

But this was not going to be easy. Because Yitzchak did not realize that Eisav was unworthy of the berachah, he planned to bless him. Yaakov had to disguise himself as Eisav so Yitzchak, who was blind, would bless him instead. Rivkah dressed Yaakov in Eisav’s clothing and placed goatskins on his arms. When Yitzchak asked Yaakov who he was, he identified himself as Eisav (Ber. 27:15–19).

Despite Yaakov’s best efforts, Yitzchak was still suspicious. Though Yaakov’s arms felt like Eisav’s, his voice sounded like Yaakov’s (Ibid. 27:22). 

Chazal explain that it was Yaakov’s words, not his voice, that raised Yitzchak’s suspicion (Rashi, Ibid.). Yaakov, unlike Eisav, spoke politely. When he brought food to Yitzchak, he invited him to “Please rise and sit, and eat from my trappings” (Ibid. 27:19). Additionally, Yaakov invoked Hashem’s name and credited Him with his success (Rashi, Ibid. 27:21). When Yitzchak asked Yaakov how he had returned so quickly, he responded that “Hashem brought the prey to me” (Ibid. 27:20).

Indeed, Yaakov’s speech was distinct, and this almost gave him away. The obvious question is why Yaakov spoke this way to Yitzchak. Knowing the need to disguise himself as Eisav, why did he not speak like Eisav as well? Did he not realize that his polite and Godly speech would jeopardize his important mission?

Rav Moshe Shternbuch explains that Yaakov was unwilling, and possibly unable, to compromise his code of speech. Yaakov was willing to go along with the deceptive moves his mother suggested, but this was a step too far. Speaking in Eisav’s coarse manner was so foreign to him that he preferred risking the loss of the berachot. Though Yaakov knew that the berachot—and the future of the nation he would father—were at stake, he simply could not speak inappropriately (Vort From Rav Pam, pg. 55–56).

Creation. Words have great power. Hashem taught this by creating the world with His ten utterances (Avot 5:1). Generally, we associate creation with action; Hashem’s use of words demonstrates that words can also create.

And Hashem gifted this unique ability to man. Onkelos identified speech as the human soul’s defining feature (Ber. 2:7). The Rishonim followed his lead by using the term medaber to distinguish man from animal. Hashem blessed animals with the ability to move; He granted man greater intellectual capacity and the capability to express his ideas in sophisticated language.

Human speech, like Hashem’s, also has creative power (Yesh. 51:16). Hashem wanted Moshe to teach us this point when He commanded him to draw water from a stone with just his words. Doing so would have made a tremendous kiddush Hashem by teaching the power of words (Bam. 20:2). Wasting the opportunity to make this kiddush Hashem was so severe that Hashem punished Moshe with death in the desert.

Sanctification. Like Moshe Rabbeinu, our words are also impactful. They are able to sanctify time, objects, and even G-d’s Name.

The conclusion of the Yom Tov Shemoneh Esreh berachah describes Hashem as “sanctifying the Jewish people and times” because G-d gave us the ability to sanctify time (Ber. 49a). We do so with our words—by beitdin declaring the new months, and thus the Yamim Tovim that fall within them, as holy. The first mitzvah, “Ha’chodesh ha’zeh lachem Rosh Chodashim,” not only gave us a distinct calendar but also put the ability to set it in our hands (Sh. 12:2).

The speech of laypeople also plays a significant role. Beit Din sets the dates of the Yamim Tovim, but each of us personally infuses the days with sanctity by reciting kiddush. For this reason, the nighttime kiddush is the more important one. Though we generally view the daytime as more significant than the night, our kiddush at the beginning of the night sanctifies the day (Pes. 106a).

Our kiddush has this impact on Shabbat as well. Though Hashem imbued Shabbat with kedushah on the seventh day of creation, and its weekly occurrence does not depend on our setting of the calendar, we sanctify it through our Friday night kiddush (Ramban, Sh. 20:8).

Our speech also sanctifies objects. A mere declaration turns mundane objects into kodshim—objects with sanctity. Our words can make an object Mishkan-worthy and subject to the halachot of me’ilah, the laws associated with the use of sacred objects (Vay. 22).

Even the holiness of Hashem’s Name hinges on our words (Teh. 22:4). Our recognition of His Presence through the Kaddish and Kedushah sanctifies His Name in this world. We make this point at the beginning of Kedushah, which equates our sanctification of Hashem’s name in the world below to that of the angels in the world above. Our mere words generate the sanctity of Hashem’s name below in a way similar to what the angels accomplish in the heavens above.

Like the laws of kodshim and Yamim Tovim, our ability to sanctify Hashem’s Name is mentioned in Parashat Emor (Vay. 22:32). This explains why the parashah is called Emor—it describes the many ways we sanctify with just our words.

Our words can also change personal status. Jewish marriage is an excellent example. A verbal proposal transforms two single people into a married couple. This change of status, which has significant halachicimplications for both husband and wife, is generated by our speech.

Yes, our words have creative power. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks quotes the Oxford philosopher J. L. Austin, who called it “performative utterance” (“Oaths and Vows,” Covenant and Conversation, Matot 5775): 

This happens when we use language not just to describe something, but to do something.

So, for instance, when a groom says to his bride under the chupah, “Behold you are betrothed to me,” he is not describing a marriage; he is getting married.

When in ancient times the beit din declared the New Moon, they were not making a statement of fact. They were creating a fact; they were turning the day into the holy beginning of the month.

Relationships. Our words also create relationships and build communities. Rav Soloveitchik explains (“The Community,” Tradition (1978)):

Two lonely individuals create a community in the manner that G-d created the world. What was G-d’s instrument of creation? The word.

The word is also the instrument with which man creates his own community… 

The Halacha attached great significance to the casual greetings exchanged between two individuals. Rabbi Helbo said: “If his friend greets him and he does not return the greeting, he is called a robber…”

Speech, unique to humans, forms the bridge between two otherwise separate, independent people. It binds us together.

Our words can also strengthen those in need of chizuk. This is why greeting each other warmly is better than giving gifts (Avot D’Rebbe Natan 13:4), and offering the poor encouragement is more valuable than just offering money (B”B 9b).

The Sacredness of Our Words. The ability of our words to sanctify means that they, too, are sacred. The Torah teaches this point by using the term “yachel,” which Rashi translates as “desecration,” to refer to breaking our word (Bam. 30:3). 

Words can create sanctity and should therefore be viewed as inherently sacred. We should always tell the truth and see our future commitments as absolute. Our “yes” should always mean “yes” and our “no” should always mean “no”; we should mean what we say and say what we mean (B”M 49a).

Everything we say, not just the commitments we make, matters. This is why Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi mentioned the “ear that hears” as part of what should inspire us to lead our lives properly (Avot 2:1). In addition to seeing our deeds, Hashem hears our words and records both in His heavenly “ledger.”

The Power to Destroy and Desecrate. Like any creative tool, words can also desecrate and destroy. The third of the Aseret HaDibrot, the first that relates to deed, prohibits taking G-d’s name in vain (Sh. 20:6). Though one who does so has sinned with mere words, Hashem “will not cleanse” such a person. Our words can even create a chillul Hashem. Parashat Kedoshim teaches us that lying under oath, though mere words, desecrates Hashem’s name (Vay. 19:12). 

Our words can also cause death and destruction. Mishlei teaches us that “life and death are in the tongue’s hand” (Mish. 18:2). Our speech can sustain life but also cause death. The power of our words to create can be used to destroy if we embarrass, verbally abuse, or speak ill of others, or if we use our words to spread negativity and cause machloket.

In addition to affecting others, our words can also damage ourselves. This is why we refer to evil speech as “lashon ha’ra.” It is the tongue, not just the speech, that is “bad” or ill. As is well known, this illness can manifest as tzara’at. Unlike other sins, which do not produce a visible, definitive illness, lashon hara causes skin disease.

The effect of evil speech on ourselves inspired Dovid HaMelech to link life to proper speech (Teh. 34:12–14). Evil speech ruins the life of the speaker, in addition to the lives of those spoken about and spoken to (Ar. 15b). 

Human speech distinguishes us from animals. Proper and constructive speech elevates us above other creatures; improper or destructive speech demotes us. Our usage of our Godlike speech inappropriately desecrates Godliness in a way no animal possibly can (Netiv HaLashon 6). 

{HaKol Kol Yaakov: The Voice of the Jewish People

Yaakov Avinu passed his refined speech on to his children and descendants. Yosef, like his father, Yaakov, was careful to mention Hashem (Rashi, Ber. 39:3) and attribute his success and knowledge to Him (Ber. 41:16). We, too, are meant to mention Hashem in our words and speak appropriately.

Yitzchak’s words to Yaakov disguised as Eisav aptly summarize the difference between the two brothers and their descendants. Eisav and his descendants are known for their strong arms; Yaakov and the Jewish people focus on words and their proper use—for prayer, study, and positive speech. We know how to use our arms as well, but only as a supplement to proper speech.

Understandably, the development of our speech has been and remains part of our redemptive process. The Zohar explains that while we were enslaved in Mitzrayim, our speech was subjugated as well (Zohar I, 25a). The Jewish people lost their inner voice—they were unable to pray, protest, or express themselves properly.

Yetziat Mitzrayim needed to redeem our speech. This is why the process of redemption began with the Jewish people’s prayerful cries and concluded with our receiving the words of the Torah (Chidushi HaRim,Pesach), and why Pesach’s central mitzvah involves speech—telling the story of Yetziat Mitzrayim.

As with our ancestors, we need to improve our speech as a central component of our personal development. Bnei Torah and talmidei chachamim, need to maintain the highest level of proper speech (Rambam, Dei’ot 5:7). In addition to mentioning G-d’s name and speaking respectfully, we should speak softly and calmly to everyone, without being condescending. Additionally, we should see everyone positively and greet them warmly.

We live at a time when people are constantly speaking and expressing themselves. Society sees talk as cheap and words as insignificant. In our coarse and crude world, people—from the simple man to world leaders and politicians—often lie and use harsh and profane language. We must be different. We must remember that we are the descendants of Yaakov and model our own speech on his. May the appreciation of the significance of our words inspire us to use them properly. n

Rav Reuven Taragin is the Dean of Overseas Students at Yeshivat Hakotel and the Educational Director of World Mizrachi and the RZA.

His book, Essentials of Judaism, is available at RabbiReuvenTaragin.com.