The rain this morning pours from the gutters and everywhere else it is lost in the trees. You need your glasses to single out what you know is there because doubt is inexorable; you put on your glasses. The trees, their bark, their leaves, even the dead ones, are more vibrant wet. Yes, and it’s raining. Each moment is like this—before it can be known, categorized as similar to another thing and dismissed, it has to be experienced, it has to be seen. What did he just say? Did she really just say that? Did I hear what I think I heard? Did that just come out of my mouth, his mouth, your mouth? The moment stinks. Still you want to stop looking at the trees. You want to walk out and stand among them. And as light as the rain seems, it still rains down on you.—Claudia Rankine, Citizen-An American Lyric
*the following is an excerpt from my sermon on Parashat Devarim:
When I provide guidance to an engaged couple, I often say that their wedding ceremony is celebrated in a day, a very special day for sure. However, what they are really building is a marriage, God willing, for years to come. So, I say, let’s talk about the journey of your souls. I know you’re talking a lot about things, logistics—color scheme, table settings, and flower arrangements. Let’s talk about the words of your ketubah, your marriage document, a spiritual contract.
It is very tempting to focus solely on the material world—sometimes it is necessary, sometimes fun, sometimes stressful, and sometimes a distraction. “Things” are part of what help define us. Things trigger memories, are offerings of gratitude, and can make our lives more convenient.
This Shabbat we begin the Book of Deutermony, or in Hebrew, Devarim. Devarim can be translated as “things” but most often, as we find in the opening of Deuteronomy, as “words”—Eleh Hadevarim asher diber Moshe el kol Yisrael b’ever haYarden—These are the words that Moses addressed to all Israel on the other side of the Jordan. These are the words that Moses said as he recalled the most essential stories and values and lessons learned that will carry the House of Israel into the future.
Words matter.
We all know the childhood saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” At first it was a helpful adage in that we can choose how to respond to words that try to cut us down. We DO have power and agency to define our thoughts and feelings in the face of another person’s hurtful actions.
On one level, the sticks and stones saying may still be useful. However, I am not convinced, because over time, we know micro-aggressions and bullying can have a serious impact on our mental wellbeing. And on a communal level, the saying doesn’t hold up either. Words really can corrode and undercut our core institutions. Words can build up and words can destroy. Just think about the rabbinic story which explains the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple, a dark moment in our history we mark [this] evening for Tisha B’Av, the 9th of Av.
It is written in the Talmud (BT Gittin 55b) that a Jerusalemite hosted a large feast. A messenger was supposed to invite the host’s friend named Kamtza. Instead, the messenger mistakenly invited Bar Kamtza, the host’s enemy. When Bar Kamtza showed up at the feast, the host kicked him out and embarrassed him. In retaliation, Bar Kamtza devised a scheme that made the king believe that the Jews were rebelling against the empire. The king decided then and there that the Temple must be destroyed. The hatred between Kamtza and Bar Kamtza and the words of deception that followed caused great trauma and ruin.
As our Tisha B’Av story reminds us, words can be used to distort reality and can be used to tear down the very bedrock of our society, from the past, well into the present. One current challenge to our democratic bedrock centers around the claims of voting fraud, which election officials have shown are baseless. Voting is a right and a sacred act, and all of us want to make sure elections are run with integrity. However, the bills proposed in Texas, (in the spring legislative session and now the current special session) and in many states across our country, are designed to limit access for eligible voters and increase organized intimidation of voters and election officials. The Reform Movement has long been on the front lines fighting to foster and preserve rights for all though advocacy, education, and community organizing. At Temple, we’ve learned and evolved in our local and statewide work, through the incredible leadership of congregants and staff, in partnership with organizations like Texas Impact and the League of Women Voters. Many have worked tirelessly and the efforts continue (join our Temple Responds Facebook page for updates on action steps!).
Words can be used to distort reality and to tear down the bedrock of our society. But words are also powerful instruments for change. Words convey values and essential truths. Words are the sacred tools that lay the foundation for our private homes and our public houses of democracy—and they can be part of the healing that builds them back up.
The power of words to be a healing force that transforms our souls and rebuilds our world is deeply embedded in our tradition. As noted in Etz Hayim (p.981), Moses’ speech that begins the book of Devarim, of Deuteronomy, harkens back to a time early in Moses’ life when he was first called by God—Moses said—I am not an “ish devarim” (Ex 4:10)—I am not a man of words. Forty years later, after a desert journey which brought him to his knees and to the heights of revelation, Moses now begins, Eleh hadevarim…These are the words.
These are the words of commitment to a future that is just. These are the words of commitment to a future that is holy. These are the worlds of commitment to a future that is in our hands to build.