Not defiling one’s power of speech consists of two aspects: negative and positive. One who cheapens or denigrates his speech allows for a spiritual corrosion to set in, just as rust sets in on metal. Just as rust dulls and weakens a once sharp, smooth utensil, the coarsening of language impedes the spiritual power of his words. Even when one seeks to do the right thing, to reach out and help his fellow, to offer words of encouragement, uplifting words that would inspire and help him extricate himself from his morose state, the influence for good, the power to inspire lacks the clarity and fire it once possessed. His own negligence has spiritually compromised his power of speech.
We acknowledge, however, a corresponding and profound benefit to not desecrating one’s speech. Such a person elevates his power of speech and strengthens this unique G-d-given faculty, imbuing it with an added dimension of sacredness. Together with the sound, kedushah emanates from his mouth, granting the sound unique spiritual properties and a capacity to effect, to inspire and to bring about meaningful change. When someone who guards his speech speaks – people listen. His mouth is now an instrument, a medium through which blessing, inspiration and truth can flow effectively.
The mouth is much more than a vehicle for communication. It is an instrument from which kedushah can flow. When guarded, it elevates the speaker. When neglected, it diminishes him. We wonder why some prolific orators do not impact their listeners. They do not create an enduring change in their congregants, while others whose power of speech leaves much to be desired, who lack the pizazz and elan that allows the speaker to control and inspire his crowd –do just that. It is all in the kedushah of the mouth. Pure spring water flowing through rusty pipes does not taste good. Plain water in purified pipes is refreshing.
The power of speech is underscored by Maharil Diskin, zl, in a commentary to the dialogue that ensued between Moshe Rabbeinu and Bnei Gad and Bnei Reuven. The Torah relates that members of these tribes approached Moshe with a request to receive their portion in Eiver HaYarden due to its exceptionally fertile land which would benefit their herds. A textual inconsistency seems to exist concerning the responses of Bnei Gad and Bnei Reuven. At first, they said, Avadecha yaasu kaasher adoni mitzaveh; “Your servants will do as my lord commands.” They later added, Kol chalutz tzava, “Will go to war as my lord spoke.” When did it change from a command to speak, and why use the word chalutz to say they would go to battle? Is this not obvious?
Maharil Diskin explains that, when Moshe said, ‘You shall cross over around before Hashem, and afterward you shall return,” they understood this to mean that whoever went out to fight was guaranteed to return. This was the power of Moshe’s words. Immediately, everyone ran to prepare for the battlefield. They had everything to gain. The problem was that the draft applied only to those who were below the age of sixty. Only they were permitted to go to war. This did not settle well with members of the “over sixty” group. They were willing to go and benefit from the “promise of return.” Thus, the individuals who responded to Moshe’s command were the younger men who would actually go to battle. The second group – the chalutzim – responded to Moshe’s words, since he had not commanded them to go.
In any event, we see the power of a tzadik’s speech. Space does not permit for the many stories and anecdotes that emphasize the power of the oral word when emanating from a saintly Jew who guards his mouth. Let it suffice that it should be a lodestar for navigating our own selection of the words we use to articulate our thoughts.
