The Power of Words (Kol Nidre 5775, October 3, 2014)
In the words of Leo Rosten, from his short essay, The Power of Words:
They sing. They hurt. They teach. They sanctify.
They were man’s first immeasurable feat of magic.
They liberated us from ignorance and our barbarous past…
We live by words: Love, Truth, God.
We fight for words: Freedom, Country, Fame.
We die for words: Liberty, Glory, Honor.
They bestow the priceless gift of articulacy on
our minds and hearts – from “Mama” to “infinity…”
There was a time in all of our lives that we crossed the threshold into speech, whether we remember it or not.
A mail carrier paused for a moment to visit with a four year old about his baby sister. Having discussed with the boy the wonder of having a little sister, he asked: “Can she talk?” “No,” the little boy replied. “She has her teeth, but her words haven’t come in yet.”
As a mother and a grandmother, I have learned a lot about language acquisition over the years and the power of words.. At Kol Nidre, 28 years ago, I shared the following story:
“My son, Jonah, has teeth and the words have come in, too. As my first child, he is my first effort in the world of linguistic programming and I am learning a lot about the acquisition of language through our encounters. We have the word “please” down to a science. He believes that it is a magic word. Every time he says, “please,” I am so thrilled that I give him whatever he has asked for so politely. In an effort to condition him, he has conditioned me. And together, we have learned the most important lesson about the power of words.” (Words, RARP, Kol Nidre 5747)
My grandson, Micah, is following in his uncle Jonah’s footsteps. As my first grandchild, he is reintroducing me to the power of words. Gary and I have marveled at his language acquisition this past year. At two years and four months, he spent the week after Labor Day with us. As his primary caregivers for the week, we had the responsibility of every diaper change and every bedtime. Those of you familiar with two-year olds know that a favorite word at that age is “no.” Some people never outgrow that word, but Micah is not your typical two year-old. He’s my grandson; of course he’s not. He rarely ever said “no” to us in 8 days. Rather than shut us down or appear to be negative, when asked if he wants to change his diaper, go to bed, or turn off Disney Junior, he has the most clever response. In his sweet little voice, he looks at us and responds, “Maybe later.” I have learned a lot from his choice of words. It is as if he is saying, “Savta, I want to let you down easy. I am not going to go along with your suggestions, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings, appear childish, or negative. Thank you for your misguided adult suggestion, but no thank you.”
“Maybe later” is a lesson I have now incorporated in my own life. Words do have the power to shape encounters. And we never know where our best teachers will come from when it comes to how we use our words. Micah’s “maybe later” reminds me to be more diplomatic with my words, but as he has learned, diplomacy doesn’t extend bedtime, or diaper time, no matter how cute or clever the response.
I often wonder what happens to the lessons of childhood when I am at a restaurant, store, airport, classroom, or doctor’s office. I can’t believe how rarely people say “please”and “thank you.” I am amazed at the tone and words people use over the phone or in emails to my staff, and to me. Aside from the fact that for many encounters, people don’t even look you in the eye, because they are texting while talking. From Facebook to Twitter, email to the family kitchen, in our efforts to use words efficiently, we have lost the civility of the word “please” and we feel empowered to make demands and share feelings without the Victorian filter of the past. Micah reminded me that once upon a time, people couched negativity in kind language. Today, we just let people have it right between the eyes.
A very large woman was walking out of the Springfield Kmart the other day with a purse the size of a suitcase. In her hurry and self-absorption, she slammed into my arm and really hurt me. And she didn’t even stop to say she was sorry. I couldn’t believe it. The difference in my reaction to her was entirely based on her lack of words and her lack of apology of any kind. The lack of an “I’m sorry” roused a host of negative thoughts and reactions in me about her, even though I said nothing as I rubbed my very red arm.
“I’m sorry” is not the only phrase people fail to say, as we learned from the wall we created in our hallway after my Erev Rosh Hashanah sermon last week. The wall outside taught all of us how many hurtful words and actions we have all exchanged in the past year.
In our office culture, here at TBS, we exchange birthday gifts and gifts throughout the year. And we all send each other handwritten “thank you” notes. I am amazed at how few people say “thank you,” let alone send a note or at the very least an email of gratitude for sometimes very big favors or kindnesses. I have saved every single thank you note any of you have ever written to me for the past 29 years. Never under estimate the power of words. If you get anything out of these High Holy Days, remember that two words – “I’m sorry” or “Thank you” can make a huge difference in your life and your relationships.
One of the characters of the Yiddish play, The Dybbuk, says: “Wherever you stand to lift up your eyes to heaven, that place is the Holy of Holies. Every human being created by God in God’s own image and likeness is a High Priest. Each day of your life is the Day of Atonement; and every word spoken from the heart is the name of God.”
We are here this Kol Nidre night, because we know that every word spoken from our hearts falls short of being the name of God. Whatever we put into words, either in writing or verbally, should be for the long run, not the short run. Dashing off that email may make you feel better, but it does not serve your purpose in the long run.
Most of the time, hurtful words, ingratitude, entitlement, and rudeness do not change any mind for the better and do not move any mountain, except the one it places between you and the person who receives your words at the other end. How often I would love to suggest that people keep their thoughts to themselves, or at the very least, show sensitivity in their timing. We all have an email, letter, Tweet, or comment we wish to God we could retract. We must be true to ourselves, but our words really need to reflect our best selves, all of the time. We all fall short much of the time.
That is why we are here. Kol Nidre night is about taking stock of our words. The power of the melody behind the words of Kol Nidre is designed to raise our consciousness about words and promises we have made all year and intend to make in the year ahead. Kol Nidre reminds us that we are not in control of much in our lives, but we are in control of our words. As Emily Dickenson wrote, “A word is dead/ when it is said,/ some say./ I say it just/begins to live/that day.”
Tomorrow, at Family Services, we will read the famous story every Jewish child grows up on about a child who has lost his friends, because of the way he was treating them with his words. The rabbi of the story teaches the child a lesson about words. You know the one. The rabbi tells the child to take a feather pillow, open it up, and shake it out into the wind. And then, when the child returns to the rabbi, he tells the child to go collect the feathers. The child gets upset, knowing the feathers are long gone. So, too, our words, teaches the rabbi. Once they are aloft, we can never get them back.
The rabbis teach us that a word once spoken is like an arrow that can never be retracted once it is shot. It is ironic then, that the word for sin in Hebrew, chet, is an archery term, which means “missing the mark.” If words are arrows, then we sin whenever we miss the mark. And we miss the mark a good percentage of the time. That is why we desperately need tonight. We gather to ask forgiveness for rash words, broken promises, insincere assurances, and for the assorted and sordid gossip and tale-bearing that reduces even the most educated individual into an assassin of character or worse.
Words do have great power. They can be used for good, or they can cause great hurt and misunderstanding. They can promote truth or destroy trust with falsehood:
A person remarked that a certain man was highly educated. He was able to speak five languages fluently. His so-called friend answered by saying, “Yes, that may be true; but he cannot be trusted to be nice or tell the truth in any of them.”
In contrast, it is said of Fiorello La Guardia, the 99th mayor of NY, who served for three terms from 1934-1945 and who was a Congressman for many years before and after that, that he spoke seven languages fluently, and used all of them to welcome and assist strangers to our shores on Ellis Island and throughout his immigrant city.
It is the brain and heart behind the words and the languages that control whether they are used for good or hurtful purposes. Whether you say, “I love you. You are special,” or “I hate you. You are a terrible person,” will determine not only the quality of your relationship, but whether or not you have one going forward.
Words can convey tenderness or regret. They can build a person up or they can irreparably tear a relationship apart. I truly believe that whether we are employers or employees, parents, partners, associates, teachers or students, friends or foes, encouraging words, helpfulness, respect and a spirit of approval are more effective than a diatribe of someone’s faults or failings. Why is it that the term “having words” means that we disagreed? It is a talent and skill to know when to speak and when to refrain from speaking your mind.
The old show “All in the Family” began political incorrectness on television decades ago. Archie Bunker, the husband, would all too often want to shut his wife up, and tell her, “stifle yourself, Edith.” In our second-to-second internet world, people don’t ever stifle themselves anymore. As my Bubby used to say in Yiddish, “What is on your lung is on your tongue.” Today, with a few clicks and uploads lives are ruined because people just can’t seem to stifle themselves. Contrary to popular belief, sometimes saying nothing at all, is best, for whatever words you might choose will be the wrong ones.
A 75-year-old man went to his doctor for a physical exam. The doctor could not find anything wrong with him and said, “It is amazing; you really have the body of a 50-year-old. What is your secret?” The man replied, “Well, when my wife and I were married 50 years ago, we made an agreement. We decided that we would never quarrel. So when we have a difference of opinion and it causes friction, and we see a fight coming on, she stays in the house and I go for a long walk. I guess my good health is due to the fact that for 50 years I have pretty much led an outdoor life.”
I am not suggesting that you bottle up your feelings or that you always avoid controversy, although sometimes that is the only way to get through a family vacation or holiday. But, remember that the Kol Nidre comes to us from a time when we said things we didn’t mean and felt so guilty about it. We denounced our Judaism to stay alive in dark times.
Too many families and friendships have been torn apart by words that could never be retracted, while others have been destroyed by the deafening silences that over time made all words meaningless. Whatever else we do over the next 24 hours, we need to take responsibility for our words. In the Al Chet prayer we say, throughout Yom Kippur, we ask our forgiving God to forgive us: “For the sin we have committed against you with our words.”
We are all human. We say things and write things that would be best left unsaid, stifled, or censored. For the words we share echo and reverberate in the ears of the recipient long after they have arrived. There is no Epi-pen for the sting of words. But, there is atonement.
And some times, getting things off your chest does make you feel better and doesn’t hurt anyone. Take my Tweet this summer: “CNN’s reporting of the Gaza war is appalling. No longer my network of choice.” I was grateful that Twitter offered me a chance to vent my frustrations about the level of bias I couldn’t tolerate any more. In the same way I am proud of all of you who wrote to Sharon Bulova, the Chairman of our Board of Supervisors, about the fact that Fairfax is holding an event tomorrow. Sometimes our words are needed to right wrongs. Speaking up and speaking out have their place in public and private discourse, as well.
As Rosten wrote about the power of words: “They sing. They hurt. They teach. They sanctify.” Words are not ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ in and of themselves. Words have value and impact in the way they are used and the tone in which they are delivered.
The Rabbis of the 4th century who wrote Pirke Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers 5:9, share with us the attributes of the wise man.
The wise man does not speak before him that is greater than he in wisdom;
He does not break his fellow’s speech;
He is not in a rush to reply;
He asks what is relevant and replies to the point;
He speaks of first things first and last things last;
Of what he has not heard he says, “I have not heard,”
And he acknowledges what is true.
And the opposite applies to the clod.
We pray that we will not be clods in the new year.
Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, in his 1996 book Words that Hurt, Words that Heal asks the question, “Could you go 24 hours without saying any unkind words about, or to, anybody.” If so, you have your words under control. But, if not, you have a serious problem. Ask the person who can’t live without alcohol, drugs, or nicotine for 24 hours. If they are being honest with themselves, they will tell you that they are addicted to those substances. Telushkin cautions that if you are fueled on using words to harm and hurt, then you have lost control over your tongue. And the rest of us are victims of your ego-destroying criticism, excessive anger, verbal bullying, sarcasm that really isn’t funny, public humiliation, hurtful names, betrayal of secrets, and rumors or malicious gossip.
Words have power. Sometimes they are needed to right a wrong, to offer corrective criticism, or to share painful feelings. Listen to those words without the need to respond. Take them to heart, as words you just may need to hear. Whether you are delivering the words or receiving them, always remember that words can lift us up from sorrow, or bury us deep in despair. Words can extol the human spirit or shatter self-esteem for a lifetime. Words can build confidence or destroy self worth. Words can be a symphony of empathy, or strike harsh notes of dissonance and discord. Words can teach and inform, or words can spread ignorance and fuel hatred. Words can make us cry and words can make us laugh.
Every night, after saying the Shema, a mother encouraged her daughter to talk to God directly. After learning at temple on Rosh Hashanah about saying “I’m sorry” for the things she said , the little girl prayed,
“God, I’m sorry for not listening to my mommy and for telling a lie today. And I am sorry for adultery.”
Her mother was a bit surprised with the evening prayer and gently said to her daughter,
“Sarah, you are six years old. How did you commit adultery?
To which little Sarah replied. You know, Mommy, you were there. “I talked back to an adult today.”
As the teacher of teenagers, I regularly ask my students if they have mouthed off to their parents, and the majority always respond in the affirmative. But, what saddens me more is how frequently they share the fact that they are so often victims of harsh words, yelling, and unkind things that are said by all the adult members of their households. Adults need to be role models for all kinds of behavior, and our choice of words and tone is a good place to start.
I’m not sure any of us understand the effect our words really have. I suppose that is why we are here asking for forgiveness on this Kol Nidre night. I repent as you do, for what I have said and for what I failed to say. But, the key to repentance is promising not to do it again.
God asks us, his children, “Are you ready to understand the power of your words and to do a better job using words in the New Year?” All too often we respond, “Maybe later.” Kol Nidre night comes each year to suggest: “Maybe now.”
Shanah tovah.