Neshama Sheli

Our Speech - Words Wound and Heal

I would like to begin with a parable that beautifully illustrates everything we will discuss next. A wealthy man of noble birth was visiting another wealthy aristocrat. They were served a lavish meal, and the tastiest dish at the meal was “Stuffed Intestines.” The chef had carefully planned the ingredients for the stuffing …

Rebbetzin Leah Gans

Our Speech - Words Wound and Heal
I would like to begin with a parable that beautifully illustrates everything we will discuss next.

A wealthy man of noble birth was visiting another wealthy aristocrat. They were served a lavish meal, and the tastiest dish at the meal was “Stuffed Intestines.” The chef had thought through every detail of the stuffing—it tasted simply heavenly! All the guests were licking their fingers. Our wealthy man summoned his personal head chef and told him to write down every ingredient and every step in the preparation exactly, so that he could later make the same dish for celebrations. One chef asked the other for the detailed recipe, writing down the instructions step by step, all the ingredients, and their proportions.

The next time our wealthy man was expecting important guests, he instructed the chef to prepare the dish made with intestines—and spared no expense. When the dish was served at the feast, the host expected blissful smiles to spread across the guests' faces, but nothing of the sort happened! They grimaced and spat! When he tasted it himself, his expression changed. The taste was revolting, and the smell was even worse! The wealthy man summoned the chef and demanded an explanation: how dare he disgrace him like this?! The chef defended himself, saying that he had followed the recipe exactly. Somehow, the wealthy man realized that his chef was not lying and told him to get ready to set out, visit that aristocrat's chef again, and ask what had gone wrong.

When the chefs began comparing the recipe, it turned out that everything was correct. They puzzled over what could have gone wrong! Then suddenly it dawned on the second chef: the intestines had to be thoroughly washed inside and out! “But you never mentioned that in the recipe!” the hapless chef tried to defend himself. “To me, it goes without saying that you cannot make a delicious, exquisite dish from unwashed, foul-smelling intestines. Even though the stuffing is a real delicacy, it is clear that the casing has ruined everything. It is completely inedible!” replied the aristocrat's chef.

The chef in the parable is like someone who uses his mouth both for prayer and for conversations that displease the Almighty.

Our Heavenly Father created us as “Nefesh chayah, ruach memalela,” as Onkelos translates it, meaning “A living soul, a speaking spirit.” “Animals, like human beings, are called nefesh chayah, but human beings differ from animals in having knowledge and speech,” says Rashi. What, then, does a person do with his speech?! He “pollutes” his mouth with unkind words, and then uses that same mouth to recite prayers. No wonder they are displeasing to the King.

We are not even talking here about lashon hara (derogatory speech, meaning speaking ill of another person). There are many other forms of speech from which we should refrain as part of “sur mera” (turn away from evil). On the other hand, there are many mitzvot (“aseh tov”) that we can fulfill with our mouths: offering praise and glorification, expressing thanks, and making requests. Men study Torah.

Misusing a tool such as speech is like a king's minister of war waging war against the monarch with the monarch's own weapons.

If we act this way, we are even worse than animals—they lack the power of reason, yet they do not rebel against their master.

to be continued

Prepared by: Mrs. Zissi Skarzhinskaya