A guy joins a monastery and takes a vow of silence: he’s allowed to say two words every seven years.
After the first seven years, the elders bring him in and ask for his two words.
"Cold floors," he says. They nod and send him away.
Seven more years pass. They bring him back in and ask for his two words. He clears his throat.
"Bad food," he says. They nod and send him away.
Seven more years pass. They bring him in for his two words.
"I quit," he says.
"That’s not surprising," the elders say. "You’ve done nothing but complain since you got here."
Early third century, around the year 200 CE. In the town of Sepphoris in Upper Galilee of the Holy Land. The great Talmudic sage Rabbi Yannai is in his study, expounding the Scriptures.
The loud voice of a street peddler is heard, chanting: "Who wishes to purchase the elixir of life, the elixir of life?" Rabbi Yannai looks out of his window, sees crowds gathered around the peddler, all pushing to purchase the special medicine compound that will give life. At last, someone has discovered the pill that will make you skinny, healthy, happy, handsome, charming, and muscular.
Rabbi Yannai summons the peddler to come up to his study and sell him some of the magic elixir. The peddler answers: "What I am selling is not for you, rabbi, nor for people like you."
But Rabbi Yannai insists. He really wants to purchase this “elixir of life.” After begging and pleading with the peddler, the peddler takes out from his bags the book of Psalms and points to the passage that says: "Who is the person that desires life?" And the verse continues giving advice to a person who desires life. It is simple advice: "Guard your tongue from evil."
In the opening verse of our weekly portion, Metzora: “This shall be the law of the Metzora.” It is translated as "leper". But the word Metzora sounds just like motzi-ra, i.e., one who utters evil with his mouth. The crime and the punishment are both in one word, for this type of leprosy was—during the days of the Temple—the symptom of gossip and slander.
The message is simple, but crucial: if you want to survive, guard your tongue. Guarding your tongue is not a matter of luxury, it is a matter of life and death. An extra word, a wrong expression, can cost us and our nation its very life!
There is a story about the great Greek philosopher Socrates (ancient Greece 469 - 399 BCE), well known for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance who said excitedly: "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?"
"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before telling me anything I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test."
"Triple filter?"
"That's right," Socrates continued "Before you talk to me about my student, it might be a good idea to take a moment and filter what you're going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"
"No," the man said, "actually I just heard about it and ...."
"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not.
Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"
"No, on the contrary... "
"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him, but you're not certain it's true. You may still pass the test though, because there's one filter left: the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?"
"No, not really."
"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither true nor good nor even useful, why tell it to me at all?"
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky