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Jewish World Review Sept. 2, 1999 / 21 Elul, 5759
The ethics of language
But before I share it with you, let me tell you why I made it. Having
spent all of my teenage and college summers in Israel, and many of them
studying in yeshiva, I have grown to appreciate the Hebrew month of Elul.
The month prior to the High Holidays, it is traditionally considered an
auspicious time to prepare ourselves and our souls for Rosh Hashanah
and Yom Kippur. In Jerusalem, the searing intensity of Elul is palpable; it's
as if the stones themselves are our accomplices in molding our characters to
stand before our Creator during the Days of Awe. I remember feeling
particularly inspired during the Torah reading each holiday, having spent the
previous month studying the texts in an environment devoted not just to
their intellectual message, but more importantly, to their moral potency.
Now that I no longer have the luxury of traveling to Israel each
summer, my Eluls have been, well, no different than my Kislevs. I've tried
reading thematically appropriate books or texts, but that has largely been a
poor substitute for immersion.
So this year, seeking to restore a measure of the moral intensity of
my Eluls gone by, I've turned my attention to a concept that I find
particularly important: the ethics of speech. I've decided, at least for the
month of Elul, to watch my words very carefully. In simpler terms, I've
resolved to make a stronger effort to curb lashon harah, harmful speech, or
gossip.
I'm fueled in this quest by an appealing mental image conjured by
the author of Proverbs:
Kesef nivhar lashon tzadik.
The speech of a just person is like choice silver.
Getting to that choice silver, of course, is a difficult task, especially
given the ease with which we (or at least, I) often let harmful words slip out
of our mouths. Yet, I'm attracted to the notion that restraint in speech is a
refining process, freeing a precious metal of its dross. What we refrain from
saying is just critical as what we do say. As one rabbi told me, lips that say
Shema Yisrael, one of the central Jewish prayers, should not utter despicable words.
I was discussing my resolution with a friend and we got into a
discussion on the various types of speech Judaism deems harmful. There is
gossip that is true, gossip that is false, and gossip that is meant to defame
someone's character (for a comprehensive take on the Jewish view of
lashon harah, read Zelig Pliskin's Guard your Tongue, although beware: it
may make you afraid to open your mouth ever again. Or click here to reach the sign up page for Project Genesis' Ethics of Speech study group on the subject.) The ethics of
speech "what we may say, when we can reveal negative information, and
the like" are intricate indeed, which prompted my friend to comment that
while they do seem "restricive" on the surface, they can serve as a tool for
character refinement.
The first few days after my resolution, I attended Shabbes services
where a guest from out of town was asked to lead the prayers. Not a big fan
of drawn-out davening, I complained later about the length of the service,
and my description of his singing was less than flattering. Whereupon my
friend promptly chastised me that I was breaking my resolution. This is
not going to be easy, I thought.
While this may be an innocuous example (maybe because it is so
innocuous), it illustrates how hard it is to control one's speech. Perhaps it's
because we are attuned to speaking our mind, and in the split second before
we utter a word, we aren't likely to think of its consequences.
I decided I needed to learn more about the topic, so I called the
Chofetz Chaim Heritage Foundation, which is dedicated to spreading awareness of the
Jewish view on speech (the foundation bears the name of the famous
Eastern European scholar, who died in 1933 and who wrote treatises on this
topic, among other legal works). The woman on the phone was very
friendly, and told me about their e-mail lessons.
"Do you want to receive the daily digest, or the inspirational quotes,
which come several times a week?" she asked.
In this spirit of encouraging one-liners, I think of a question posed in
Pirkei Avos, Ethics of the Fathers: "Who is a strong person?" The Mishna
gives the following answer: "He who can control his will." While that
clearly applies to a broad category of urges, it reminds me of the effort to
refine one's speech, and by extension, one's character. Implicit in this is the
idea that negative speech has a destructive impact not only on the person
maligned, but on our own character. In a foretoken of modern psychology,
the mishna suggests that people who utter negative statements will
ultimately live negative lives.
My foray into the mental training invoked by the ethics of speech is
still in process, and likely will be for a long time. But as another mishna in
Pirkei Avos says, "It is not up to you to finish the task, but neither are you
free to desist from it."
Here's to a good start during this month of Elul.
Shanah tovah
By Brigitte Dayan
I MADE a resolution recently.
I signed up for both. Maybe an inspirational quote will stick in my
mind and pop up before a negative statement does.
JWR contributor Brigitte Dayan is managing editor of the
JUF News, a monthly published by the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Chicago. Contact the author or the magazine by either clicking here, or calling (312) 444-2853.
