Rebbetzin Leah Gans
I also want to speak specifically about purity of speech.
The Torah itself states (Genesis, 7:8): “And of the animal that is not clean.” The Torah usually uses very concise language, but here, instead of one word (teme'ah, unclean), it uses three (asher einena tehorah, “that is not clean”), to teach us how important it is to keep our vocabulary clean. Children who grow up in a home where unclean words are not spoken, where street language is not brought in, look different. There are things that need to be discussed at home, but even these should be discussed in “clean language,” not street slang.
When I was about 6-7 years old, I had to spend several days in the hospital. People there spoke differently from the way we did at home. I kept asking myself: “Can grown-ups really be saying such words?!”
For someone who, like me, grew up in a home where ugly words were not used, hearing such words is disturbing; they feel uncomfortable in that kind of company.
One woman earned her living by looking after children, and one of the children in her care suffered “crib death” (the child did not wake up). She was not beside the baby at that moment, but she took it very much to heart, even though everyone assured her that she was not to blame, that it could have happened anywhere—at home, in daycare—anywhere at all. But she was inconsolable, blamed herself for not watching the baby closely enough, and fell into depression. They brought her to a great rabbi, and he said that something had to shake her up; otherwise, she would simply sink into a deep depression and be unable to emerge from it. The rabbi told her: “You are not to blame for this child's death—everyone, even the doctors, tells you that. But what about all the unclean and hurtful words that slip off our tongues and wound people, perhaps fatally—do we weep and torment ourselves over those in the same way?! Yet in those cases, we really are to blame! Have we ever heard of someone who wounds another person in conversation repenting and crying like this?” These words from the rabbi roused her. She began to understand that if she was so tormented in a case where she was not to blame, what should a person feel when they are to blame, when they hurt someone?
This put things in perspective for her—what truly warrants repentance and teshuvah.
It is written in Ecclesiastes (6:7): “All of a person's labor is for their mouth.” A person may work tirelessly with their lips, laboring over Torah, but if they do not watch their speech, it all goes down the drain—all their labors. In other words, besides the fact that this is simply forbidden, it is also just a shame to waste all that effort.
The Vilna Gaon writes in his letter that for every moment a person restrains their lips, they receive a reward beyond our ability to measure. In other words, besides gaining this world by living at peace with everyone and not quarreling, with no one bearing a grudge against them, a reward also awaits them in the World to Come for restraining their lips. No angel or other created being can comprehend the full reward a person receives in the World to Come for a single moment of restraining their lips when the words are already about to escape them. At the last moment, the person thought: My mouth does not belong to me. It has merely been given to me to serve the Creator. And now I will close my mouth, remain silent, and not say what has been boiling up inside. This is not easy, but this is my service, and for this I will receive a reward.
What can help a person exercise self-restraint if they are not used to it?
First of all, study. There is a wonderful book, “Chafetz Chaim,” about the laws of speaking ill of others and gossip. Nowadays there are even telephone lessons; you can listen to two laws a day. It is best to do this every day; if you cannot, at least read once a week on Shabbat. The main thing is to be consistent. You need to study and know the laws: what you may say and what you may not. And in which cases you must even speak. You also need to study Mussar (for example, “Shemirat HaLashon”) to understand the meaning and importance of restraint in speech. You need to remind yourself of this constantly. You can study over the phone, putting it on speakerphone, and cook or wash dishes at the same time, or listen while traveling or feeding a baby…
If I know that a particular person in my circle always, without fail, speaks lashon hara, I should limit my conversations with that person as much as possible: keep them brief and to the point.
I have a neighbor who, if I open the door myself, will always start talking to me about someone—lashon hara. I thought for a long time about what to do. Now I do not open the door for her; instead, I send one of the girls to open it—the neighbor will not talk to them for long, only about what she needs. Or, if another neighbor always annoys me by remembering on Friday that she needs some groceries 10 minutes after the store closes—and running over to borrow them from me—I likewise will not open the door myself, so that I do not later lose my temper in front of the children (“Why is she so disorganized!”); instead, I will send one of the girls to open it—and I will not get annoyed. And while I am calm, I will say to the children: “Look, we have had the privilege of doing a good deed, helping fellow Jews. And we can manage with half a bag of milk” (and the fact that she is disorganized is her problem, not mine).
We need to draw up a plan, a carefully thought out campaign against our evil inclination. Identify our weak points and station extra defensive units there. And then our battle will be won!
Prepared by: Mrs. Zissi Skarzhinskaya