You Are What You Speak – The Distinctive Mark Of Human Superiority

Shortly before his death, the Duke of Burgundy was presiding over the Cabinet Council of France. A proposal was made by the ministers that would violate a treaty but would secure important advantages for the country. Many reasons were offered to justify the act. The Duke listened in silence, and when all had spoken he closed the conference without giving approval. Placing his hand on a copy of the original agreement, he said with firmness in his voice, “Gentlemen, we have a signed treaty!”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Driven by a sense of guilt and compunction, Yankel, whose life had lapsed into a routine of stealing and informing, one day confessed his misdeeds to the town’s Rabbi. “Is there an easy way to repent,” he asked. “Yes, yes,” replied the eager Rabbi. “You need only give up a single misdeed – the act of lying.”

That doesn’t seem too hard, he thought. I can still steal, cheat, pick pockets, and inform to the authorities. All the Rabbi asks of me is not to lie. So he resolved then and there to become more truthful with his words.

The next day, on his way to the town square, where he planned to pick a few pockets, a townsman called out to him, “Hey Yankel, what yah plan on doing this fine day?” Yankel mused to himself, “Hmm… if I tell him what I’m up to, he will give me up to the police, but if I lie, I will have broken my deal with the Rabbi.” So he turned around and went back home.

After a number of such incidents, a frustrated Yankel returned to the Rabbi. “You told me that there was an easy path to repentance – that all I had to do was give up lying. Well, I stopped lying and it turned out that in doing so I had to give up stealing and informing as well,” he complained indignantly.

“Ah yes,” answered the Rabbi, “that is true. “Just as lying leads to other wrongdoing, so does truth lead to a life of increased integrity and righteousness.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Have you ever been in a situation where someone has broken a promise they’ve made to you, or entirely reneged on their word? What impact did it have on you?

Like it or not, we all have expectations and when something is agreed upon or when a promise is made, a certain responsibility is placed upon the shoulders of the one who makes the promise. Not following through is very telling about the person’s essential character, for actions speak louder than words.

I have a friend who’s a very good person, with honorable intentions. He really means well; his heart is definitely in the right place, but he rarely follows through on what he says. My friend has many other friends, since he is a great guy in many others respects.

According to him, most others don’t really mind his “Bad habit” of speaking without follow-through since he has many positive attributes that outweigh it. Good for them I say, I don’t see it that way! I find it hard to take anything he says seriously. My expectations of him are next to zero. If he occasionally follows through, it’s great, if he doesn’t, I’m not disappointed.

He strongly resents my attitude towards him. He claims that I relate to him as if to a child, or perhaps even less. He feels like that’s offensive. But what can I do? I hope I’m not being too harsh on my friend. I know he means well when he makes promises or commitments, it’s just that his busy life gets in his way and he forgets. Nevertheless, it’s very annoying when you wait for something to happen based on someone’s word and it consistently fails to occur.

I understand that promises are easily made, but keeping them often proves more tricky. I know that because we are pressured to strive for perfection, we find it simpler to agree to undertake impossible tasks than to say no. As a leader, co-worker, family member or friend it is easy to discuss ideas and make plans. Sometimes these plans are followed through and sometimes they aren’t.

Keeping your word can sometimes be difficult, expensive, and inconvenient. There is an infinite array of circumstances that conspire to goad us into telling falsehoods, even when we hold a great reverence for truth. But, the way I see it, the cost of not keeping your word is even greater; it can cost a person his reputation.

When we endeavor to consistently keep our word, we protect our reputation and are perceived as someone who can be trusted to be unfailingly truthful. Since frankness and sincerity form the basis of all life-enriching relationships, our word is one of our most precious and powerful assets.

Integrity is the glue of civilization, allowing people to live, work, and play side by side without fear or apprehension. As we cultivate honesty within ourselves, we find that our honor and reliability put people at ease. Others will feel comfortable seeking out our friendship and collaborating with us on projects of great importance, certain that their positive expectations will be met.

On the other hand, when we promise more than we can deliver, hide from the consequences of our actions through falsehoods, or deny our true selves to others, we hurt those who were counting on us by proving that their faith was wrongly given, and thereby destroy the entire relationship. Judaism seems to agree with the vital importance of keeping our word.

This week’s Parsha, Matos, opens with an injunction about the sanctity of our words: “ Moshe spoke to the heads of the tribes… if a man takes a vow… he shall not desecrate his word; whatever issues from his mouth he shall do…” (Numbers 30:2).

Judaism in fact, places such a high premium on speech, that even our humble mundane daily conversations carry incredible power.

At the onset of the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, Yom Kippur – in packed auditoriums all over the world – one hears the ancient, haunting melody of ‘Kol Nidrei’ chanted by the Cantor, flanked by the holy Torahs scrolls. Participants, clad in white, akin to pure angels, lapse into an ethereal state, as they unite in spirit with grandparents, great-grandparent and all prior generations.

“’Kol Nidrei’ all vows ‘Vesorei’ and prohibitions ‘Ushvuei’ and vows. . .which we may commit ourselves to during this upcoming year the Cantor intones. . .‘Lo Sheririn Vlo Kayamin’ shall hereby be considered null and void.”

But how are we to understand this nullification of vows? How can we ask for remission from all our future promises? Is it not strange that the recitation of this peculiar prayer – the nullification of speech – is the highlight of the most auspicious Jewish occasion?

Many throughout history have in fact pointed to this prayer as a sure indication that Jews are untrustworthy and dishonest; deserving of discrimination as well as economic and social punishment.

There was a time when Jewish leaders were so uncomfortable with this prayer that they purposefully mistranslated it. They changed it from the future to the past tense – all of our wrongheaded vows of the past year – the vows, which we’ve somehow failed to realize – those should be nullified.

But that’s not what the prayer actually says. Kol Nidrei asks for the vows of the coming year to be canceled out. How, though, can Judaism, which places such importance on words; on good speech, include such a supplication?

The answer is that during this most lofty spiritual moment, we do not ask for remission from our vows at all. What we seek is the nullification of declarations made as a result of carelessness. We are, to the contrary, reaffirming our commitment to be upright human beings who take our words seriously. That is precisely the reason that we make sure to denounce all utterances or hurtful words made in error or as a result of folly.

Kol Nidrei emphasizes the extreme gravity of speech. Our words are so weighty, so important, that Judaism does not take a single word uttered for granted. Verbal communication constitutes a most prominent distinction between man and lower forms of creation. In Jewish thought, each small verbal interaction is as holy as though it were the President being sworn in.

Verbal blessings are considered a highly potent force. The Talmud states that not only is there great value in the blessings of a Tzaddik, but even the blessings of the most ordinary person has extraordinary power. The same is true in the converse, ominous words can be deadly. One should never utter curses. When Yaakov – not knowing that Rochel has taken her father’s idols – said that the one who had taken any of Lavan’s possessions would die, Rochel died prematurely.

Our sages teach that when man utilizes speech to reveal his true self; to express appreciation, to exchange ideas and share wisdom, he is a ‘Tzelem Elokim, a G-d-like image – creating, as does G-d, a good world through His speech: “Let there be light… Let there be a firmament…”

Still, the path of honesty and truth is riddled with challenge. Even our best efforts at communication are fraught with the possibility of error – we may at times speak hastily, get confused, speak from our wishes rather than reality, or even gossip, not to mention the lies we sometimes tell ourselves.

Since the path of truth frequently represents the more difficult journey, embarking upon it builds character. You can harness the power of your word when you do your best to live a life of honesty and understand what motivates dishonesty. In keeping your agreements and embodying sincerity, you prove that you are worthy of trust and that you perceive values as something to be incorporated into your daily existence.

Your self esteem is highly connected to your integrity and being true to your word.

You may imagine you are fooling others, but it is impossible to fool yourself. Each time you make excuses, each time you lack integrity by saying one thing and acting in another way, you damage your self esteem.

You know the truth. You understand deep down what you are doing and not doing. You know when you are not being assertive and either allowing others take advantage of you or trying to take advantage of others through manipulation.

In devoting the holiest moment in the Jewish calendar to the importance of speech we are reminded that we’re only as good as our word.