Rabbi Booth » Sermons » Rosh Hashanah Drash

For any years, I have had the fantasy of beginning my sermon with the following words: milah b'selah, shtekah btri - words are like silver, but silence is golden - and then to sit down. But what would that really say? I am afraid such an action would be perceived as rude, disrespectful of this sacred occasion.

So I am left with words as my only tool, even though the Rabbis are warning me throughout Pirkei Avot of how troubling words can be. And words are really slippery. We use them way too much with way too little thought. If anyone remembers the old Ally McBeal show, she would sometimes say something obnoxious and socially inappropriate and then say, "did I really just say that?"

We are surrounded by words. Ours is a loud culture, with constant media input and a crawl at the bottom of the screen. It amazes me that we have 24 hour news channels - so much talk, so little contant. Too much conversation-not enough action. If you pause to think, the other guy yells over you. In our generation, Ann Coulter passes for great speaker???

Immanuel Levinas, the great Jewish French philosopher, warns us of the inherent dishonesty of words as we try to communicate our own thoughts. We realize how powerfully we can influence others through our words and so our own self-interest becomes impossibly tangled with our speech. We cannot help but use them to get our way, to convince, to compel etc.

And yet - words are necessary.

According to the Talmud, when God gave Torah to the Israelites, the whole world was filled with a sweet fragrance. Gods words are filled with integrity, with beauty - they shatter mountains but they also build holy communities. We see this throughhout the Creation story as God speaks, forming things and creating matter. God's words create, build, bring into the world matter and morality, integrity and faith. In Hebrew we see this strong connection between speech and matter. Speech is dibbur, while matter is davar. God's dibbur, Gods speech, creates Davar, creates matter.

Further, speech is what elevates us above animals. It is how we how we transmit our desires & hope to others. Words can shatter mountains - but the can also build. Think of the fragrance of words like "I had a dream" or "We hold these truths to be self-evident."

Yet our words are as quick to be dishonest, to be hurtful.

Part I: Problem of words

We say that actions speak louder than words- but perhaps that reflects instead our fear that action has integrity, while speech is filled with lies. This is why Shammai says: speak little and do much. Shammai is expressing a basic discomfort with words - and how slippery they can be. Actions can't lie. They have an inherent integrity.

All the first examples of human speech in the Bible are lies. In the garden of Eden, the Snake uses words deceptively and seductively - you won't really die if you eat that fruit. And think how delicious it would be? Which turns out to be a horrible lie, because our tradition tells us the fruit was a etrog, not an apple. Etrogim look and smell delicious, but they taste terrible. So Eve eats the fruit, seduced by the speech of the snake. And Adam eats as well. Then, God comes calling.

God is walking in the garden and says: where are you? Adam then says, I heard your voice in the garden and I saw that I was naked, so I hid. God then replied, But - who told you you were naked? Did you eat from the tree I commanded you to avoid?

Imagine if at this point Adam had said, Yes. I did. I am sorry. Think how differently the history of humanity would have gone. But instead he lies and says, "That women YOU GAVE ME made me eat it!" And so the trust, the relationship is shattered on the harshness of dishonesty. The first example of human speech is a lie! This shows the power of words to break a relationship. Genesis is filled with lies, deception - words used in ways that are at best troubling. Abraham of all people says: That's not my wife, she's my sister.

And then we get to the story of Joseph, the end of Genesis. Joseph, thrown into the pit by his brothers, and then rising to preeminence over all of Egypt. He ends up supporting those same brothers in Goshen, preserving them from famine. Then Yaakov dies and the brothers together bury their father.

The brothers remember all too well what they did to Joseph. And now that Yaakov is dead, they are afraid. What will happen to them? Will Joseph finally take his revenge? So they tell Joseph the following speech in Yaakov's name:

Say to Joseph: "Forgive the sin of your brothers and their wrongdoing for they have paid you ill. And now forgive the sin of the servants of the God of your father." And Joseph cried.

Yaakov never says this in the Torah. The brothers seem to be making it up to protect themselves from Joseph. So Joseph cries - because words that could have healed instead break that relationship. They lie to him when they should trust him. So he cries.

We use this same language as the basis of our confessional prayers at the Holidays. But the brothers are lying! Our language of forgiveness is based on a lie! Maybe the Rabbis know that when we really feel the emotion of RH of YK - that gut wrenching terror of our own fragile existence, we will say anything to survive. Its great - either we don't mean it, or we are liars.

So if we only spoke the truth, think how much better it would all be. But honesty can be its own weapon.

Beit Hillel said:

"One should say to every bride: 'You are a beautiful and graceful bride.'"

Beit Shammai said to Beit Hillel:

"Are you sure? If the bride is lame or blind, should we still say to her, 'You are a beautiful and graceful bride?' [How can you say this?] Doesn't the Torah say 'Keep yourself far from lying?' (Exodus 23:7)"

Beit Hillel answered Beit Shammai:

"We should praise it when a person has made a bad purchase in the market telling the truth about how foolish it was? No! We should praise even a bad purchase due to the value in the eyes of the purchaser. [Similarly] Every bride is beautiful in her husband's eyes. That is why the Rabbis said: 'Always be pleasant with people.'

To tell the bride that she is ugly is only to hurt. It is to use honesty as weapon. Because we know that every bride is beautiful in the eyes of her groom! So even honesty, that ought to be so fragrant, can be filled with pain, can shatter mountains.

We have choices of what comes out of our lips. A few years ago my grandfather was taking piano lessons. He had been studying for a year, and honestly, not improving so much. My uncle, who is an accomplished pianist, came to visit. My grandfather was so proud. He played for my uncle. And then my uncle said: This is as good as you are after a year? My grandfather never played again.

I overheard a parent talking to a child out on the street. What's wrong with you, he said. You are always making trouble. You are so stupid. I wanted to shake this parent. I wanted to yell at him and say: "These words have no fragrance. They are shattering mountains and building nothing in their place! Honoring our parents, teach the Rabbis, is because they stand in the place of God for a child. You who, like God, can speak in a sweet fragrance that will extend into years - instead are uttering curses that will embed themselves in your child's mind throughout his life. Shtok!"

We are so quick to speak lashon harah, to spread gossip. It is damaging to a community when we don't even know what hurtful rumors are beings spread. This is why the Rabbis liken gossip to bloodshed. Like murder, its effects can never be recalled. Think how quickly bad news spreads - even minor things - but for good news it's only the big stuff, like birth of a child. What if people spread: oh, what I nice sushi lunch I had with Joel or that was so nice of Lisa to go out of her way to pick up my daughter.

Yet hope isn't lost. Maybe we can learn to speak in a way that is fragrant. I told you some stories of how words can hurt. They can also heal. Rabbi Moshe Cotel tells a great story of Rachmanoff, the great Russian composer. In his youth, he wrote several great pieces of music. The world then held its breath for his first great concerto. Under the pressure, he got writers block. So over a summer he went to see a hypnotherapist who repeated for fifty minutes the following mantra:

- You will write your concerto. You will write with great facility. The music will be of an excellent quality.

Rachmanoff said: surprisingly, it worked. Why surprisingly? Words have their own power. God spoke: and created the world. Our words too hold creative power and the power to unlock our own hidden creativity. As Soloveitchik says : "If the Torah spoke at length about the creation of the world, it did so in order to teach practical Halakhah... The most fundamental principle of all is that man must create himself." And we see how words can unlock that ability to self-create.

Preparing for the High Holidays is scary. We confront our own failings and try to open our hearts up to God. Listen to what we say before we begin to pray: Oh lord, open my lips and let my mouth sing your praises. We realize that we need God's help to open our mouths. Before we begin to speak we ask for help. Can you imagine ??? taking a moment to think before we talk? What if Bill O'Reilly or Geraldo did this? It would be a different world.

Rashi says prayer should be a service of the heart, that the words we say should flow directly from our hearts in honesty and openness. Let's allow the words that we recite and that we say to be from our hearts.

So this time of year its time to begin thinking: what do we want to say. How can the words of our mouths be healing, supportive, filled with sweet fragrance?

Here are a few ideas of what I want to start saying to people this year.

1. To my family: I love you. I can say this in words. I can also say it spending Shabbat afternoon with Maytal cuddled on my lap, reading. I can say this by going to my cousin's graduation from eighth grade and being there in that special moment to say: Mazel tov. I can say it by visiting my Zeide in the hospital and talking football with him.
2. To my Jewish community: I care about you. Its been marvelous to find chances to learn and grow together. Its great to share Shabbat meals, with a richness of conversation and song. It moves me deeply to speak together in prayer. Its particularly special to me to have a congregant offer me, his Rabbi, words of comfort around my Zeide's illness. That is the power of words to heal.
3. To my own soul: I am formed of dust and ashes. That means sometimes I fail. Sometimes I let down the people who trust me, care for me. I am also created in God's image: and that means sometimes I do things that are wondrous, for nothing is beyond God. But - I will do good things. My teaching and speaking will flow with great facility. And I will help people grow and heal.

In a moment we are turning to Musaf - let's be ready to speak our hearts as Rashi says So that later, as we walk out of this room, we can use words to heal, to build, to grow.

God, open my lips that I may sing your praise. To speak is terrifying because to lie is human. O Lord, open my lips now - in this place of sacredness, surrounded by the sweet aroma of Your words - but also in the darker recesses of my home, and in my work, on the way that I may forever give voice to Your praise.