Every Word Counts
Rabbi Joel Fleekop
Saturday, January 27, 2007
We live in a world where the written word is cheap and disposable.
Gone are the days when people would save hand written letters. Today
news from family and loved ones comes in the form of email. There is no
envelope to excitedly open and no keepsake box to place it in. Sure, an
important or particularly moving email may linger in the inbox for a few
weeks, maybe even a few months. But when the time comes to clean out
the inbox or switch email providers, it is likely to vanish forever into
the memory of our hard drives.
At least in the case of emails their may be a cringe of guilt or
sadness as we press the delete key. That is certainly not the case with
the abundance of material written for public consumption. From the pile
of direct mailings that go directly from the mailbox to the recycling
bin, to the estimated 90 million blogs on the internet, which according
to a google poll, have an average readership of 1 -- we live in a world
where words are written with the expectation that they will be ignored
or at least treated with little value.
Even traditional print media seem to have given up on the idea that
the written word can be a powerful tool. After all if editors believed
words really mattered, would they run Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton
updates on page 2?
There is more written material accessible to us than at any time in
human history. But, as the volume of material has increased, the value
society gives the written word has dramatically decreased. Words are no
longer special. They are no longer assumed to be fraught with meaning.
Of course this was not always the case. The great rabbis, whose
names fill volumes of Midrash, Mishnah, and Talmud, cherished the
written word, particularly the words of the Jewish tradition. As part
of their exegetical method they established for us the notion that every
word that appears in the Torah does so for a reason. Ain Yeter BaTorah.
There is nothing extra in the Torah.
It is with this understanding that the rabbis approached the phrase
tzedek, tzedek tirdof. Reading these words in Deuteronomy 19:20, often
translated as “justice, justice, you shall pursue” the rabbis did not
assume that the repetition of the word tzedek was a mistake. Instead
they saw in the linguistic repetition a profound message. Amongst the
explanations found in the rabbinic commentaries for repeating the word
tzedek is the idea that justice must be pursued in more than one way and
that the responsibility to pursue justice rests on more than one person.
In this morning’s Torah portion, Parshat Bo, no word is repeated
right after itself. But the wording of one sentence in particular
strikes many as puzzling. As part of the instructions given for
observing the first Passover, in Exodus 12:21 we read “Mish-chu u’kchu
lachem tzoan l’mishpchoteichem, Draw out and take for yourselves a lamb
according to your family.”
While some modern translations, like the New English Bible try to
smooth over the awkwardness of having two verbs, one after the other
with renderings like “Go at once and get sheep for your family,” the
rabbis of our tradition, ever the careful readers, ponder the meaning
behind each individual verb.
The Spanish commentator Ramban explains the presence of two verbs by
stating that one was to occur before the other. First the Israelites
had to travel to where their livestock were kept and draw them near.
Then they could take a specific lamb for their family.
Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, better known as Rashi, teaches that the two
verbs apply to different people. The verb “Mishku or draw out” applies
to those who already own a lamb. “Ukchu or take” applies to those who
need to go to the market and take, via purchase, a lamb for sacrifice.
While both Ramban and Rashi’s commentaries focus on the physical
steps needed, Rabbi Yose the Galilean offers a more spiritual
interpretation. Explaining the two verbs he writes “draw out—your hands
from idolatry. And take to—a life of mitzvot.”
Rabbi Yose’s interpretation, and the midrash from Exodus Rabbah on
which it is based, call upon the Israelites to leave behind the idolatry
they adopted in Egypt because only when they were free of this cultural
and religious enslavement could they move forward into a better life.
Though the teaching of Rabbi Yose is ancient, the wisdom it contains
remains relevant today. If we are to move forward and take hold of a
better life, whether that is a life filled with more mitzvot, a life
where we have better relations with our loved ones, or a life in which
we reach the goals that we have set for ourselves, we too will have to
perform two acts. The process begins with us drawing ourselves away
from whatever has kept us on the path we hope to leave behind. And it
continues with us taking hold of the path we now choose to follow.
Rabbi Yose the Galilean and other rabbinic commentators lived in a
world very different from our own. But week after week, we and Jews
around the world find insight and guidance for our lives in their
ancient teachings. This is one of the many blessings of Judaism, a
blessing that the rabbis created for us by treating their own words and
the words of the Hebrew Bible as something of value.
May we continue to learn from the words of the rabbis, and may we
treat the words that we write, whether in an email, a letter, or any
other forum, as something of value because one day our words, like those
of the ancient rabbis, will be a blessing for those who follow us here
on earth.
Shabbat Shalom