Seidemann: The Power of speech

Posted

From the other side of the bench

by David Seidemann

Issue of July 2, 2010/ 20 Tammuz 5770

Last week I referenced the ancient Canaanites and the Amalakites and how they battled the children of Israel after their departure from Egypt. The editorial staff of The Jewish Star was immediately bombarded with e-mails from the ancient Moabites and Midianites demanding equal time. And because I never want to be accused of discrimination, this week I shall utilize this space to accommodate the two ancient nations.

It's no secret that the Moabites and Midianites hated one another. The only thing they could agree on was their mutual hatred of the Jew. What a unifying force we are!

At any rate, Balak, the king of Moab, was intimidated by the Hebrew nation especially after witnessing the lack-of-knockout punch delivered by Sichon and the Amorites. Balak was no fool. He knew he couldn't wage conventional war against Israel alone. So he reached out to his enemy,  in true "the enemy of my enemy makes my enemy my friend" fashion. Sort of reminds me of the Middle East today.

Barak, excuse me, Balak reached out to Bilaam because he knew, as Rashi points out, that Moses, the leader of the Hebrews, grew up in Midian and that perhaps something about Moses' past in Midian would unlock the secret of the Jewish nation's downfall.

Balak realized that conventional warfare was not the secret to the Jewish nation's success either. He realized that the Jews were not the greatest tacticians or combat fighters. The Jewish nation's success was, at least, partially based on the way they used their power of speech for prayer and Torah study. So, Balaam figured, any way to emerge victorious against the Jews must include an element of speech.

Balak hires a professional speaker, a real orator, a community organizer. Sound familiar? We know what happened. No one curses the Jews unless G-d wants the Jews to be cursed. As long as the Jews excel in their speech, no spoken curse can spell doom.

As long as the Jews develops the best weaponry, the best soldiers, and the best use of his speech, no other nation can defeat them. Balak could not  defeat us with his sword. Bilaam, try his he did, could not destroy the nation of Israel with his power of speech. And in a lesson to great orators worldwide who wish to curse us or make it easier for others to curse us, the entire episode, culminating with the talking donkey, makes it clear that one great speech doesn't mean you're no longer a donkey.

If G-d could make a donkey that was born without the power of speech talk, surely he can silence those who can speak.

And so we must protect ourselves from the  Balaks, Baraks and Bilaams of today and speak aloud and more vociferously than they do. We must be cautious of those politicians that come to our defense only after being called out.

But there is another dimension to all of this. I've noticed over the years that the summer months bring with them the relaxing of certain behavior. It's almost as if the looser the clothes the looser the lips. More free time gives us more access to our neighbors and the heightened ability to speak negatively about other neighbors. Truths become half-truths and half-truths become outright lies.

The donkey spoke the truth, yet remained a donkey. The donkey meant no evil, yet he remained a donkey. What we do to our status as humans when we speak falsehoods or hurtful things about our neighbors? If a donkey could speak, I would venture to say a donkey could laugh at us as well.

The temptation to speak evil and lash out is so great sometimes, yet when one is quiet the reward is manifold.

After 20 years of marriage a husband approached his Rabbi and asked that the Rabbi arrange a Get for him and his wife. The Rabbi was astonished as he had known the couple for 20 years and never heard the man say anything negative about his wife.

"I'm shocked," said the Rabbi. "Why haven't you said anything to me over the last 20 years?"

The congregant answered: "I couldn't speak evil about her, she is my wife."

The Rabbi arranged the Get. After the proceedings had concluded, the Rabbi turned to the man and said, "She is no longer your wife now tell me what happened."

"I can't," replied the man. "She might no longer be my wife, but she is still a human being."

In the merit of watching what we say and how we say it, may we all enjoy a safe summer for us and all of our loved ones.