Creating a Pure World With Pure Words
Rabbi Joey Haber
A teenager is at home, next to his little brother, and is talking. He gets animated and worked up, and starts shouting. Soon he blurts out a curse word.
His mother, who is in the room, hears and is mortified.
“How can you speak this way?!” she bellows. “How dare you use such language near your little brother! Do you want him to start speaking this way?!”
“Come’on Mom,” the teenager says. “You don’t think that kid uses that word? I’ve heard him use it many times!”
“What?!” the mother exclaims. She turns to her younger son, whose face has turned beet read. “You use that word? Where did you learn that word from?”
“Mommy,” the child says, “when Daddy gets really angry, he uses that word. So I use it, too.”
The mother is shocked. She races to her husband and says, “Honey, you use that word? And around the kids?!”
“Who are you kidding?” the husband says. “How do you think you speak when you get very angry?”
Unfortunately, this scenario is one which can unfold – and likely does, in one form or another – in many homes today, including Torah observant homes. In today’s day and age, foul language has become acceptable. Just twenty years ago or so, the use of vulgarity was considered inappropriate, and people who spoke that way were regarded as uncouth and unrefined. Such language was seen as the province of the lower elements of society, something which respectable, dignified people avoided. Today, however, it is commonplace, even among politicians, talented and successful professionals, and everyone else. In our community, certainly, such language was never heard among observant men and women years ago, but today, sadly, this is not the case. Unfortunately, it has become so common that people no longer even see any problem using foul language.
A study of the story of the flood, which we read in Parashat Noah, gives us a vitally important perspective on this subject, and shows us why we should be making more of an effort to elevate our standards of speech.
The Kohen and the Lizard’s Tail
We begin with a story told by the Gemara, in Masechet Pesahim (3), about a group of kohanim that were sitting and talking about the small quantities they received as their portions of a certain offering in the Bet Ha’mikdash. One of them commented that he received a portion the size of a bean, and another responded that his portion was the size of an olive. The third kohen then told that his portion was the size of a lizard’s tail.
The other kohanim found it disturbing that this kohen would use such an expression, making reference to a repulsive creature like a lizard. They proceeded to do some investigating, and discovered that he was, in fact, pasul (disqualified from serving as a kohen).
Why did the other kohanim suspect the validity of this kohen on the basis of this expression? True, invoking the image of a lizard’s tail as a metaphor might strike us as strange, but why is it enough to question a person’s stature?
I recall a conversation I once had with somebody about a certain important topic. As we spoke, he wanted to give an example to reinforce the point he was making, and he gave the example of a man and woman having an illicit relationship. I wondered, where in the world did this come from? Here we were, talking about a very serious topic, relating to children, education and so on, and this is the best example he could give?! I could only suspect that such things are part of his world. Either he knows many people involved in illicit relationships, or perhaps he himself is involved in such matters, or for some other reason, this is where his mind is.
The words we use are the window into our inner world. Avid sports fans bring up sports and sports terminology in all sorts of different contexts. Regardless of the topic of conversation, they will associate it with the sports they follow. This is the way people are. Our speech, even the examples we give or tangential things we blurt out, give an indication of what occupies our minds.
And so when that kohen compared his portion to a lizard’s tail, the other kohanim were taken aback, and grew suspicious. If in the sacred environs of the Bet Ha’mikdash, while partaking of the sacrifices, this is the association that comes to his mind, something isn’t quite right.
Our Words and Our World
A simple exercise which we might want to try from time to time is to think carefully about what topics occupy the bulk of our conversation. What is our default topic when we speak with our spouses, with our children and with our friends? What subjects do our conversations naturally drift towards?
Once, on Shabbat Shuvah (the Shabbat in between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur), I was taking a nap in bed when the chandelier in the bedroom suddenly fell from the ceiling and crashed onto the floor. It landed in between the bed, where I was sleeping, and the couch, where my wife was sitting. As it was Shabbat Shuvah, my wife and I decided to spend some time thinking about what Hashem might have been communicating to us by having this happen. After all, it is not normal for chandeliers to fall from the ceiling. This was a most unusual incident, and so although nobody was hurt, baruch Hashem, there must have been some kind of message.
After thinking long and hard, we concluded that the answer likely had to do with the renovations which we had done shortly before this happened. We had redone the bedroom, and spent a great deal of time choosing carpeting, drapes, wallpaper and so on. As we reflected upon the process that we had just completed, we realized that this project had become our world. For several months, issues of money, and different colors of paint, wallpaper and carpeting dominated our conversation. Perhaps, we thought, we became too preoccupied with this project, to the point where it took over our world. I always assumed that my world was the sacred world of Torah, to which I devote my life, but the truth is that during this period of renovations, the conversation in our home revolved primarily around carpeting and wallpaper. This is what our children heard when they came home, and this became the world we created.
The words we speak not only reflect our inner world, but also create the world around us. A husband and wife’s conversations in their homes create the environment in which their children are raised, and so they must choose their topics of conversation, and their words, very carefully.
The Gemara tells that the great sage Rav once overheard two students speaking after an especially long, intricate lecture. One student remarked that he was “as tired as a goat,” and the other one responded that he was “tired as a pig.” Rav was taken aback by the second student’s reference to this animal, and he decided not to speak to that student. He did not want to be part of that student’s world. Somebody who uses such crass language creates an inappropriate world around him, and Rav wanted no part of it.
If a person is routinely referencing sports, television shows or movies, this is the world he creates. He cannot say, “Well, it’s just the way I talk. This isn’t really me.” If this is what occupies his conversation, then this is his world.
“Animals Which Aren’t Pure”
A pasuk in Parashat Noah shows us just how important it is to exercise extreme care when choosing our words as we go about the process of creating our worlds.
Before the flood, G-d instructs Noah to bring with him into the ark a male and female of all animal species on Earth, but to bring seven of every kosher species. In issuing this command, Hashem refers to the kosher animals are הבהמה הטהורה (“pure animals” – 7:2), and to the non-kosher animals as בהמה אשר איננה טהורה (“animals which are not pure”). The Gemara in Masechet Pesahim finds it significant that Hashem uses the phrase אשר איננה טהורה (“which are not pure”) instead of the word טמאה (“impure”). Why did the Torah choose the lengthy, cumbersome expression אשר איננה טהורה rather than simply saying טמאה? The Gemara answers that the word טמאה is not a perfectly clean term, and Hashem preferred using the nicer, more positive expression אשר איננה טהורה.
This answer seems, at first glance, very difficult to understand. The word טמא, in its various forms, appears dozens of times in the Torah, particularly in Sefer Vayikra, a sizable portion of which is devoted to the laws of purity and impurity. Why suddenly in this context, in reference to the flood, did Hashem insist on using the “cleaner” expression of אשר איננה טהורה? Why is the word טמא acceptable throughout the rest of the Torah, but not here?
The answer has to do with the nature and purpose of the flood. To introduce this topic, we need to first turn our attention to one of the important philosophical issues that have arisen in our time – namely, the age of the world.
Torah tradition, which we unconditionally accept as truth, teaches us that the world is just 5778 years old, whereas science claims to have proven that the world is actually much, much older, some 15 billion years old. In our modern era, when information is so readily available, and people are exposed to the arguments raised against the truth of our tradition, it behooves us to address this question in a serious manner.
This is not the context for an extensive treatment of the subject, but we will briefly mention several theories that have been advanced to reconcile our tradition with the claims of science. One theory is that the universe was created old. That is to say, just as Hashem created the world with fully-grown trees, and not just with seeds, likewise, He created the world with properties that made it look aged right at the beginning. Therefore, carbon testing – even assuming it is accurate – has determined that certain things in the world are billions of years old, because they were created “old,” with the properties of things billions of years old. Another theory claims that the word “day” does not actually mean “day,” but rather a lengthy period, perhaps even billions of years.
Another theory has to do with the flood in Noah’s time. When Hashem brought the flood, He did not simply drown all the people and beasts. He flooded the earth with hot, boiling water for a full year, which had a very significant impact upon the chemical nature of all things. Hashem’s goal was to completely transform the Earth, so that it would be something entirely different. Before the flood, people were much healthier and stronger, and the climate was much milder. Moreover, people did not need to struggle as they do now to produce food. They would plant and produce food that would last for forty years. And so people lived for some 800, 900 years without getting sick and without having to struggle to obtain their needs. This led to chaos, as people acted without restraint, wantonly engaging in violence and immorality. The world was overrun by theft and depravity, and so it needed to be destroyed to its core. G-d therefore not only killed the people and animals, but changed the physical properties of the world, essentially recreating it as something fundamentally different, so mankind can have an entirely new, fresh beginning.
This drastic change in the physical makeup of the world, it is suggested, accounts for the evidence suggesting that the world is billions of years old. The flood had an “aging” effect on the world, as its chemical properties were fundamentally altered by the boiling hot water that filled the Earth for an entire year. (We should mention that there is scientific evidence indicating that in certain places in the ocean, things age very rapidly due to the intense heat of the water.)
Building a Pristinely Pure World
With this in mind, we can proceed to explain why Hashem did not wish to use the “unclean” term טמאה in issuing His commands to Noah regarding the flood. The purpose of the flood was to completely cleanse the world so it could start again with a perfectly clean, pure slate. For this process to succeed, everything had to be pristinely pure – including the words that were used. In order for the world to begin in a state of perfect cleanliness, free of any vestiges of the depravity that had filled the Earth before the flood, any expression with even a tinge of uncleanliness had to be avoided. Specifically in this instance, therefore, Hashed used the expression אשר איננה טהורה instead of טמאה.
This also explains the story told in this parashah of the birds which Noah sent from the ark after the floodwaters had subsided. We read that Noah first sent the raven to determine if the world was again inhabitable, but the raven never returned. Noah then sent a dove, and the dove eventually returned with an olive branch. The mission initially failed because Noah sent a raven, a non-kosher bird, and it succeeded only after he sent the dove, a kosher bird. The process of rebuilding the Earth had to begin with a perfectly clean, fresh start, and thus everything had to be pure. This might also be the reason why the dove returned with an olive branch. Olives would later be used to produce the pure oil for the menorah in the Bet Ha’mikdash, and they are thus a sign of pristine purity. Hence, the rebuilding of the world is symbolized by the olive branch, because it needed to begin in a state of absolute purity.
The opening Mishnah of Masechet Pesahim speaks of the obligation of bedikat hametz – searching our homes for hametz on the night of 14th of Nissan. Interestingly, the Gemara refers to this night as אור לארבעה עשר – literally, “the light of the 14th.” Ironically, it uses the word אור – “light” – in reference to night, the period of darkness. The Gemara explains that the Mishnah uses this term because it is “cleaner,” and more positive, than the word לילה (“night”). As in the case of Hashem’s instructions to Noah, we must ask, why all of a sudden in this context does the Mishnah wish to avoid the word לילה? This word appears many times in the Mishnah and Talmud. Why now, in the context of bedikat hametz, is it avoided?
The answer is that we rid our homes of hametz before Pesach because we want our homes to be perfectly clean and pure. The search for hametz represents the search for anything that is spiritually harmful, which we must endeavor to eliminate from our homes. And when we embark on this undertaking, we must raise our standards of speech to the highest levels. In order to keep our homes pure, we need to use only perfectly pure words.
הקול קול יעקב
We are all involved in the process of “building.” No matter who we are, or at what stage of life we find ourselves, we are constantly “building” a world around us – in our homes, at work, in our social circle, and in the community generally. Hashem’s use of the phraseאיננה טהורה אשר demonstrates the impact that words have in the process of building. The words our spouse hears, that our children hear, and that our friends hear create our relationships with them, and this is our world. The purer the words we use are, the purer a world we build for ourselves.
I once had a brief, heartwarming conversation with my four-year-old daughter. I said to her, “Deborah, I go crazy for you.”
She replied, “Daddy, I know you go crazy for me.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you’re a daddy,” she explained, “and all Daddies go crazy for their daughters.”
I started thinking of a response, and she then said, “Daddy, you’re so cute!”
In that one minute, this four-year-old girl created a beautiful, adorable world around here. Her innocent, charming words created a wonderful atmosphere. And this is something we should all be striving to do. If we speak in a positive and refined manner, we create a warm, beautiful, pure world for everyone in our surroundings.
I know this is true, because I was privileged to grow up in such a home. I remember as a child occasionally misbehaving and my parents becoming angry at me. But never did my parents ever use anything even remotely resembling an inappropriate word, no matter how badly I acted, or how sternly they reprimanded me. They understood the importance of proper speech in the home, and there was never anything spoken that bore any similarity to any type of foul language. This is a crucial part of creating a Torah home.
Somebody once sent me a video clip of a secular Israeli reporter interviewing a religious man who was recovering in the hospital after surviving a terror attack. The reporter asked the man to share the details of what happened, hoping that he would present all the gruesome details. But the man refused. He insisted that the details of the attack are far less important than the way our Rabbis teach us to respond when our enemies seek to harm us. Yitzhak Avinu declared when Yaakov stood before him disguised as Esav, הקול קול יעקב והידיים ידי עשו – “The voice is the voice of Yaakov, but the hands are the hands of Esav” (Bereshit 27:22). The Rabbis explain this to mean that when our enemies (“Esav”) rise against us with their “hands,” with violence, we must respond with the קול יעקב, with our speech, with our prayers, our words of Torah, and our speaking in a refined, appropriate manner. Our power, we are taught, lies in our קול, in the way we use our faculty of speech. This is how we earn protection against the evil forces of “Esav” that threaten us.
Moving One Level Up
People might insist that speaking about this topic is an exercise in futility. After all, they would argue, people have already grown accustomed to speaking this way. What are the chances that they will change? Once foul language has become part of a person’s way of speaking, is it possible for him or her to just stop?
I would respond to this claim by observing that there are three types of people who use foul language:
1) those who use it constantly, without any hesitation or second thought, as part of their regular mode of speech; 2) those who use foul language when they get very angry; 3) those who never, or almost never, actually utter a curse word, but often use “half curses,” words that are clearly intended as curse words and closely resemble them. I am quite certain that everyone can, at very least, resolve to go up one step, to move the next category. If somebody regularly utilizes foul language, then he or she can make an effort to at least avoid such words in ordinary speech, even if they are not ready to avoid them in pressured situations or when provoked. And those who utter inappropriate words at times of anger can, as a first step, try utilizing other words. In short, once we recognize the importance of appropriate language, we can make an effort to advance at least one step forward.
I was once told the story of a couple that was returning home from their summer vacation, and as they pulled into the driveway, the husband suggested that he’ll take care of unpacking and cleaning up the van while the wife brings the children inside. The wife went into the house with the children, and the husband got to work bringing in all the luggage, cleaning up the wrappers and disposable cups, and then vacuuming the van with a dust buster.
As he was busy with all of this, his young daughter came outside and said, “Mommy said you should stop working like a dog and come inside.”
The father was startled. He and his wife had always been exceptionally careful in the way they spoke, always ensuring to talk to one another and to their children in a dignified, respectful way. Never did he or his wife use an expression such as “working like a dog.” He figured something must be wrong, and so he ran inside. He saw glass shattered on the floor, and his wife was shaking, looking very ill. He immediately called Hatzalah, and the ambulance came and rushed the wife to the emergency room. The initial evaluation revealed that she was critically ill, and the husband began praying with all his heart.
Sometime later, the doctor came out and reported that the wife was, thank G-d, going to recover. He emphasized that had she arrived any later, she might not have survived.
The husband later observed that his wife was saved because of their high standards of speech. Had the expression “work like a dog” not been so unusual, he would not have gone into the house until several minutes later, and thus she would have gotten to the hospital several minutes later, when it would have likely been too late.
In Parashat Noah, G-d creates the world anew, with an especially high standard of purity, which necessitated the highest standards of speech. As we go about our lives creating our special worlds, let us commit ourselves to use appropriate language, and we will see the beautiful, pure and pristine world that will be created around us.