Rabbi Shimshon Dovid Pinkus
One of the Torah’s fundamental prohibitions, much discussed recently, is the prohibition against speaking ill of others. After the Chafetz Chaim opened the world’s eyes to this important prohibition, many people were stirred, and in a certain sense this helped improve the world.
We know that the sin of speaking ill of others is a terrible one. This is indeed true. But we must know that the laws of pure speech include, besides the prohibition against speaking ill of other people, the ability to remain silent. This skill is useful beyond maintaining purity of speech, and it is what we will discuss today.
There is a wonderful story about the Rebbe of Ruzhin, may his merit protect us, one of the greatest rebbes, who lived about a hundred and fifty years ago. He had a custom during a tish (a festive meal at which his Hasidim gathered around him) of not speaking about Torah, but simply remaining silent.
It is told that one Shabbat night, right during the tish, a non-Jew entered their study hall. When he came out, he was asked what he had seen there, and he replied: “There was a long table with Jews sitting on both sides. At the head of the table sat an elderly man. He was silent, and everyone was listening to him attentively…”
What a wonderful description!
Let us explain this in detail. What a person says can be divided into what may be said and what may not. But there is also the possibility of remaining silent!
And if we look closely, we will discover that the most beautiful deeds in world history were connected precisely with silence!
There is a well-known midrash that the future redemption from the bitter exile in which we find ourselves will come in the merit of our matriarch Rachel. This is what that midrash says (Eichah Rabbah, Introduction, 24):
“...Then Rachel intervened, addressed the Almighty, and said: ‘Master of the Universe, You know that Your servant Jacob loved me deeply and worked for my father for seven years for my sake. When those seven years ended and our wedding day arrived, my father decided to substitute my sister for me. I was deeply distressed when I learned of this, and I told my betrothed about it and gave him signs by which he could distinguish me from my sister, so that my father would not be able to substitute her for me. But afterward I regretted it, overcame my love, took pity on my sister, and did not shame her. And when my sister was substituted for me, I gave her the signs I had told my betrothed, so that he would think she was Rachel… In this way I showed compassion toward my sister, was not jealous of her, and did not shame her. And if I, an insignificant creature of flesh and blood, could refrain from being jealous of my rival and from shaming her, how could You, the living and eternal King, the merciful King, be jealous of idols that are nothing, and in that jealousy send my sons to die at the hands of enemies who do whatever they please to them?’”
Immediately, the compassion of the Almighty, blessed be He, was aroused, and He said: “For your sake, Rachel, I will bring the people of Israel back.”
As it says (Jeremiah, 31:14): “Thus said the L-rd: ‘A voice is heard on high, a cry of bitter weeping. Rachel weeps for her sons; she refuses to be comforted for her children, for they are no more.’” And it says (Jeremiah, 31:15): “Thus said the L-rd: ‘Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears, for there is a reward for your labor…’” And it says (Jeremiah, 31:16): “‘And there is hope after you,’ says the L-rd, ‘Your sons shall return to their own borders’”.
Let us understand what happened here... Our forefather Abraham stood before the Almighty and said: “Master of the Universe, did I endure ten trials in vain?” The Almighty answered him: “What can be done, when the Jews have sinned so much?” Isaac came and said: “Did I offer my neck to the knife in vain?” The Almighty gave him the same answer. Similar exchanges took place with Jacob and Moses. None of them could save the Jewish people.
Until our matriarch Rachel came. What was it that Rachel did? She remained silent! And that silence rocked the world.
She saw a Jewish home slipping through her fingers and understood that she was destined to become Esau’s wife. And, fully aware of the horror of what was happening, what did Rachel do? She performed a series of remarkable deeds rooted in silence! Human beings are endowed with the wonderful ability to stop at the right moment!
Every driver knows the first rule of driving: never get into a car without brakes! The brakes are the most important part of a car!
And I repeat, I am not talking about speaking ill of others, but about the ability to remain silent. Sometimes we need to remain silent even when we are permitted to speak.
Would Rachel have violated anything if she had told Jacob that her sister Leah had been substituted for her? On the contrary, she would thereby have fulfilled a commandment, since Jacob had instructed her to keep the identifying signs secret so that he would not end up with Leah.
Yet she does not do so. Why? Because her sister would then be humiliated!
There it is—the ability to put on the brakes, to remain silent at the very moment when the urge to speak, the need to respond, feels so strong.
Let us take a closer look at Abraham’s actions. What was so especially great about the offering of Isaac? His willingness to sacrifice him? What else could he have done? The Almighty commanded, “Take your son… and offer him to Me as a burnt offering” (Genesis, 22:2). Could he have disobeyed? Everyone asks this question.
Our Sages, of blessed memory, reveal this secret to us in the Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah, 29:9). At the end of the account of the offering of Isaac (Genesis, 22:16), it says, “By Myself I have sworn, says G-d…” The Sages ask why an oath was necessary. Rabbi Bibi bar Abba says in the name of Rabbi Yochanan: “Our forefather Abraham addressed the Almighty in prayer and supplication: ‘Master of the Universe, it is revealed and known to You that when You told me, “Take your son, your only son…,” I had something I could have said in reply. Only yesterday You told me, “For through Isaac shall your offspring be called” (Genesis, 21:12), and today You say, “And offer him to Me as a burnt offering”? But just as I restrained myself and did not answer You, like a deaf man who does not hear and a mute man who does not open his mouth, so too, when Isaac’s descendants sin and act wickedly, remember the offering of their forefather Isaac and replace anger with mercy.’”
We are willing to give up a great deal, as long as we have a chance to respond. I am willing to put up with anything from a friend, as long as he knows that he was wrong. What, even that is not allowed?
When the Almighty commanded him to offer Isaac as a sacrifice, Abraham could have said, “Master of the Universe, I am ready, but please explain something to me. Answer just one question: Didn’t You promise that the Jewish people would descend from me through Isaac?!” But our forefather Abraham asked no questions and did not respond. In that merit, he asked that the Almighty not respond to the sins of the Jewish people. He could not ask the Almighty to forgive the Jews their sins. Could such things be forgiven? He asked only, “I did not open my mouth; You too, Almighty, do not respond.”
This was not his first trial. The Almighty commanded him, “Leave your country, your birthplace, and your father’s house” (Genesis, 12:1). This was very difficult for Abraham. He had built a home in Haran. He had worked hard with the local inhabitants to bring them to repentance, and there was still much work ahead. Suddenly, the Almighty told him, “Leave!” and promised him abundance in his new home. What did Abraham do? Without asking any questions, immediately “Abraham went, as G-d had commanded him” (Genesis, 12:4). He left everything behind and went!
And his trials did not end there. At last, he arrived in the Land of Israel. And there, for the first time in human history, a famine began. There was nothing to eat. Abraham could have complained to the Almighty: “Master of the Universe, You told me to go to the Land of Israel, promising blessing, success, and abundance. Now I have arrived, and there is nothing to eat. This has never happened before; this is the first time I have encountered famine. What about everything You promised me, Master of the Universe?” But he did not say a word!