blogs/rabbi-huberman

The great Sage, Rabbi Chanina Ben Dosa, wrote almost 2,000 years ago, “I have learned much from my teachers, more from my colleagues and most from students.” 

Who among us not enlightened our friends with some pearl of wisdom by a son, daughter or grandchild? Teachers have often been inspired by the comments and questions of their students.

Their fresh perspectives can often pierce through layers of cynicism we acquire with age.

And so, as I sat down recently to study with a student who will be celebrating her bat mitzvah—along with her twin brother—this Shabbat, we began talking about this week’s Torah portion, the first in the final book of the Torah titled Devarim—literally translated as Words.

As rabbis are often inspired to do this week, I began guiding her toward a discussion about the importance of words.

I spoke about how, these days, we live in a world where talk is cheap—where too many use social and conventional media to malign and degrade others.

As I waited for her to follow my lead, she paused for a moment, turned to me and declared, “No, that’s not what I want to talk about.” I sat back and listened.

“What I want my bat mitzvah speech to be about,” she said, “is the hurt caused by words that aren’t spoken.”

 “Continue,” I said.

“I want to write about how some of the pain in the world is not caused by talk, but about other ways of communication—posture, making faces or ignoring someone.

And my new understanding of this Torah portion was launched.

What ensued was a discussion about “nonverbal communication”—when we roll our eyes or fail to respond to someone’s “hello,” when we make faces or mock someone’s voice or physical appearance—causing more damage than a few words spoken in vain.

And I began thinking, “What kind of words that aren’t spoken can do the same?

Perhaps it’s the “I’m sorry” phone call we never make. It’s the grudge we have held for too long that a few words of apology or conciliation can heal.

It’s the call not made to someone who has lost a loved one because at the time we didn’t know what to say.

It’s the text or message of encouragement never sent to someone about to enter surgery—or recovering.

These are incidents that a few spoken words can easily reverse.

Everywhere we go—whether while filling our gas tank or cashing out at the grocery—we are surrounded by the noise of empty words spoken by those looking to change our behavior.

So many of us—especially young people—have been profoundly hurt by a phone call or a text by someone seeking to correct us or articulate a grievance 

But what about that text that we have yet to respond to? Or the thank you card we received which we haven’t acknowledged.

What about the email from someone we know that we’ve taken too long to respond to—when we know they are waiting for words of encouragement or some basic human contact?

These are words not spoken—but in today’s isolating world so sorely needed.

I recall attending a seminar many years ago by Ken Blanchard, author of the One Minute Manager. He noted that it is commonplace for a parent or boss to express anger or displeasure at the disappointing behavior of a family member, friend or employee.

But he noted, so much good can be accomplished through the positive power of words—sometimes helping someone leap over or reconsider their previously troubling behavior.

So Blanchard encouraged not only bosses, but all of us to “Catch someone doing something right.”

We each need encouragement to let us know we are not alone. What is the harm of expressing to someone, “I really appreciated what you did for me,” or “Thank you, you made my day?”

Poet, teacher and activist Clint Smith takes it a step further. In a recent TED Talk broadcast, he warned against remaining silent—of keeping our words to ourselves.

Drawing on the teaching of the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., he noted that what while we can usually prepare for the negative words of our enemies, what hurts most is the silence of our friends.

Smith added, “If we do not use our voices to reach out to others, we may become numb to our own inner voice and our conscience. “Silence in the face of others' suffering results in a loss of our humanity.”

With the High Holidays less than two months away, we are called upon this week to read the Torah portion titled Words, not only to consider words spoken or misspoken, but also words not spoke.

Moses, in his early days, was reluctant to express himself. But now, as we approach the end of the Torah, he has much to say. Over time, he has realized that teaching and encouragement can be found within the power of words.

As the famed Israeli author, Amos Oz, once noted, “Jewish continuity has always hinged on uttered and written words…”

This Shabbat, while our bar mitzvah will speak beautifully about the power of the spoken word, his sister will talk about the sounds of silence. Together they will point to the power of words, and how they make us unique.

Devarim—this week’s Torah portion, reminds us that we are society not so much based on policies, promises and declarations, but rather on the liberating power of positive and truthful words strung together.

Each time that we open the Jewish prayer book we complete our formal meditation by asking God to, “Keep my tongue from evil, my lips from speaking lies.”

The power of the spoken word is unparalleled. But as our bat mitzvah will inspire us to consider tomorrow, sometimes the most hurtful words are those we leave behind.