Rabbi Daniel Z. Feldman
Many hundreds of years ago, a travelling peddler arrived in the town of Tzippori (Sepphoris), proclaiming, in the style of the day, the wares he had to offer. The peddler announced to all who would listen: who wishes to purchase the elixir of life? As a crowd gathered, the peddler was exhorted to provide the enticing brew he was advertising. Finally, the peddler reached into his bag, but what he revealed was not a potion, but a parchment. He was holding a biblical text – specifically, the Book of Psalms – and, with great drama, he read from it: “Who is the man who desires life, and loves days, that he may see good? Keep your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking guile. Turn from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it (Psalms 34:13-15).”
Apparently, this was no simple act of biblical recitation; nor were his prospective customers disappointed. Even great scholars, such as the venerable R. Yanai, were deeply impressed. He was moved to exclaim that King Solomon, the son of the psalmist King David, had made a similar statement: “Whoever guards his mouth and his tongue keeps his soul from troubles (Proverbs 21:23.)”. Nonetheless, stated R. Yanai, he had studied this all his life, and never fully appreciated its scope, until the peddler opened his eyes.
(Versions of this story appear in Midrash Rabbah, Parashat Metzora 16:2, and in Yalkut Shimoni, Psalms ch. 52 (remez 767), and a different version, involving R. Alexandri, can be found in the Babylonian Talmud, Avodah Zarah 19b. The presentation here is a composite of these versions. For a harmonization of the various versions, see R. Yaakov Shechter, Divrei Yaakov, Proverbs 4:3, n5. See also the Maharal of Prague, Netivot Olam, Netiv HaLashon ch. 1, and R. Reuven Schwartz, Emek HaLashon, 23.)
The tale of the peddler captured the attention of many rabbinic commentators, who offered varying insights as to the thrust of its message. To some, the significance of the story is not to identify the transgression of malicious speech – that prohibition is thoroughly expressed throughout the entire development of Jewish law, in the Torah and in the rabbinic writings, in narrative sections as well as in legal declarations, in admonishments of character refinement and in prophetic condemnations.
Rather, the peddler’s message was to convey the havoc that gossip wreaks upon life in this world, the here and now – not only the spiritual devastation that is imposed, and the guilt incurred, but the damage inflicted upon day-to-day life. Thus, the question is "who desires life": not only the eternal life of the soul, but the physical life of the social being on this Earth. (See, for example, R. Betzalel Rudinsky, Mishkan Betzalel, Lev. p. 114-115; see also R. Yosef Greenwald, Va-Yechi Yosef, Genesis, p. 57, and Kokhav MiYaakov, cited in R. Yoel Menachem Mendel Sacharov, Menachem Yisrael, in Otzar Tehilot Yisrael, p. 346.) Others felt that the story is related in order to place a positive, proactive perspective on the unsavory subject of malicious gossip. The devastating impact is well-known – the shattered reputations, the destroyed relationships, the devastated psyches, cannot go unnoticed. But the idea that vigilance in this area could be presented not only as a cautionary exhortation, but as an affirmative worldview, as a recipe for a rich and meaningful existence, an “elixir of life”; this was innovative and invigorating. Thus, not only does the verse emphasize “turn from evil”, but equally, “do good; seek peace and pursue it” (On the exact reading of this verse, see Tosafot, Yevamot 109b, s.v atia.).
This positive emphasis carries a further message: not only can the ethic of speech be addressed in a life-affirming fashion, but perhaps it must be so; maybe the only successful approach in this realm is one that centers on the promise of a rich, optimistic life rather than a fearful existence of silence. Thus, the exemplar of the message is not a cloistered monk, but a gregarious talking salesman (See, along these lines, R. Avraham Shmuel Binyamin Sofer, Ketav Sofer to Lev., Parashat Metzora; R. Natan Gestetner, Lehorot Natan,loc. cit.; Mishkan Betzalel, ibid, pp. 103-111; and the approbation of R. Isser Zalman Meltzer to Ikarei Dinnim (Hominer). See also R. Asher Weiss, Minchat Asher, Lev. pp 478-479 and in BeYad HaLashon, pp. 307-310. See also R. Yechiel Libshitz, HaMidrash VeHaMa’aseh III, Metzora #1, who explains accordingly the difference between shmirah and netzirah.).
In fact, the salesman seems to be a deeply ironic choice. The word used to identify him – the “rokhel” - describes the very same occupation the Torah uses to prohibit malicious speech: “You shall not travel as a rokhel among your nation (Lev. 19:16.)”. There, the peddler is seen as representative of one who travels from place to place with his “wares”, those being the salacious tales he has gleaned about others. Here, the peddler plays the opposite role, leading some major thinkers to conclude that he represents a penitent former gossip, infused with the zeal of the converted (This was the view of R. Tzadok HaKohen of Lublin). He is one who has been deeply affected by the corrupting effects of disparaging others and has come out on the other side, transformed and infused with a passionate appreciation for positivity and a desire to share that with others. This is, in effect, his penance – to serve as the apostle for elevated speech, to engage others in his new vision of what life can be like (For further analysis of this story, see also the discussions in R. Yosef Tzvi Dushinsky, Torat Maharitz, Lev., and R. Yaakov Kaminetsky, Emet LeYaakov, Parashat Metzora, as well as the interpretation of R. Baruch Meir Klein, Imrei Baruch to Metzora, and R. Yosef Ohayun, in the journal HaMaor, Kislev/Tevet 5773, p. 29, citing the work Yoshev Ohalim. See also R. Baruch Mordechai Ezrachi, Birkat Mordechai to Parashat Metzora).
More than one hundred years ago, a humble yet revered Polish rabbi by the name of Yisrael (Israel) Meir Kagan (1838-1933) took up both the charge and the language of the mysterious peddler. Rabbi Kagan published a volume, first issued in 1873, that revitalized the study of the Jewish laws of speech, taking his title from the phrase that the peddler emphasized: Chafetz Chaim, or “Desirer of Life”. In doing so, he placed the principles of careful speech at the forefront of the awareness of a broad section of the population, and sparked a movement that continues to grow to this day, inspiring Jews all over the world to devote their energies to “guarding their tongue” (for emphatic rabbinic endorsements of the study of this work in different generations, see Sdei Chemed, ma’arekhet halamed, klal 63, and Kreina D’Agrita, III, 846).
In this, he gave magnificent realization to the message of the peddler, which, according to some thinkers, was that the well-known and ancient precepts of speech needed to be actively brought to the attention of the public, and that doing so is the elixir of life to which the verse refers (see LeHorot Natan,ibid, and see also R. Yitzchak Arama, Akeidat Yitzchak, Lev., sha’ar 62. See also the commentary of Maharzu to the Midrash Rabbah, loc. cit., who notes that the main lesson of the verse can be identified in the dramatic presentation: “who is the man who wants life?” rather than a more prosaic formulation such as “life can be attained through guarding one’s tongue”).
The Jewish prohibition against malicious gossip – known by the Hebrew phrase “lashon hara”, or “evil tongue”, is at once simple and complex, easy to observe and irresistibly difficult, intuitive and shocking, obvious and deeply mysterious.
The prohibition of lashon hara may have the distinction of being the quintessenial Jewish precept. Rooted firmly in the realm of interpersonal law, it is not a ritual statute, but is accessible to human understanding. Yet, it builds on a somewhat non-intuitive element that places it just beyond the range of laws that society would be assumed to innovate, absent Divine command (in fact, the editor of BeYad HaLashon, pp. 291-293, suggests that the lesson that R. Yanai learned from the peddler is that the precepts of lashon hara are not self-evident, and require a knowledgeable teacher to convey).
Often rendered as “slander”, lashon hara, in contemporary usage, is generally exclusive of that term. Slander is a false allegation; in Jewish law that is termed “motzi shem ra”. Lashon hara, by contrast, disparages through true information. This is one area in which the novelty of the halakhah (Jewish law) manifests itself. The wrongdoing of slander is self-evident, and thus the offense is subject to civil sanction, along with its written correlate, libel. However, in the realm of slander and libel, truth is an absolute defense. The notion that the item could be true, and yet still forbidden, is profoundly innovative. Granted, indulgence in gossip is unsavory; nonetheless, it is presumed that a divide exists between the nasty and the criminal.
It is here, then, that the halakhah makes a unique contribution. An action perceived to be mean-spirited, but permissible, instead displays the interconnectedness between malice of thought and legislated prohibition. As such, Jewish law guides the individual toward an elevated perception of interpersonal sensitivity. Thus, there is as well a unique opportunity, in this subject matter: to unite elements of thought, attitude, and philosophy with deed and effect, all deeply and richly guided by the Torah and rabbinic literature, toward an integrated and effective personality. Perhaps this was the message of the peddler: amidst all the other rules and precepts of Jewish practice, here is an area where particular attention can yield the key to “life” (See Chiddushei HaRadal to Midrash Rabbah, loc. cit. 13, and compare R. Simcha Bunim Sofer, Sha’arei Simchah, Parashat Metzora, s.v. BiHaMedrash.).
There has been, over the past two centuries, objections raised against the Chafetz Chaim’s methodology, particularly regarding the risks inherent in converting principles that seem to be directed toward character into rules of practice, and, further, the codification of regulations in an area that involves highly variable situations with subjective interpretations and conflicting imperatives. However, it can be asserted that the Chafetz Chaim represents a crucial step in the communal discussion, establishing that this area, so often perceived as outside the arena of conventional halakhah, is in fact a deeply mandatory and regulated realm and is treated as such by the Torah, the Talmud, and great medieval halakhic codifiers such as Maimonides. Such awareness, however, need not ignore the complexities raised by the objectors. It may, though, necessitate a different approach of halakhic discussion: one that integrates an exploration of the theory of the concept; a consideration of the relevant psychological, sociological, and interpersonal realities; and a traditional analysis and survey of the legalistic material, in the hope of emerging with a refined sensitivity to the issues at hand. This, in turn, should result in a more ideal realization of the practical commandments of the Torah, and thus give further expression to the promise of King David, the mysterious peddler, and the Chafetz Chaim, for a better life.
