Tonight I want to talk to you about the power of words and how we use them in our lives. We begin Yom Kippur with Kol Nidre. Listen to your tradition: Kol Nidre, v’es-arey, v’haramei...the promises we made, the vows we declared. Words and promises we didn’t keep. Words and dreams we wish we had kept. The words we said and wish we didn’t. The words we didn’t say and wish we did.

The culture in which we live says that words are cheap. Judaism teaches words are not cheap. They are holy. The ’al chet, the confessional, which we will recite during the next 24 hrs. makes reference to the misuse of words more than any other sin. Of the forty- four sins we enumerate, ten are sins of the tongue: “for the sin which we have committed before You with utterance of lips; by impure speech; by denying and lying; by scoffing; by slander; by gossip; by talebearing, by swearing falsely;“ and more.

Three times a day we conclude the Amidah with the words: Elohai N’tzur L’shoni Mera- “My God, guard my tongue from evil and my lips from speaking lies.“
The malicious words we use are so terrible because they are irretrievable.

A story:

In a small shetl, a man went through the community slandering the rabbi. One day, feeling suddenly remorseful, he begged the rabbi for forgiveness and offered to do anything to make amends. The rabbi told him to take a feather pillow from his home, cut it open, scatter the feathers on each of the door steps of every home in the village, and then return to see him. The man did as he was told and came to the rabbi and asked “Am I now forgiven?“

The rabbi said: “Almost. You just have to do one more thing. Go and gather all the feathers.“

“But that is impossible,“ the man protested. “The wind has already scattered them.“

To which the rabbi said: “Exactly, once you utter words of slander it is as impossible to take them back, as it is, to recover the feathers.“

Once evil words have been spoken, they take on a life of their own. Therapist’s offices are filled with people who are in anguish about words spoken to them or about them. Sometimes the words repeat themselves in our minds, heard over and over again like a drumbeat causing anguish and pain. Sometimes they rest just below the surface of our consciousness, resurrected now and then to mock and to taunt.

The Machzor reminds us of the sin of lashon hara, of slander, gossip, evil-mean language.

I once saw a cartoon of two women who were preparing to board an airplane. One of them turns to the pilot and says: “please don’t travel faster than sound, we want to talk.“ Talk is enjoyable. The juicer it is, the more enjoyable it gets. We all understand that you can’t believe everything you hear, but you can repeat it. You know what the definition of a gossip is? A gossip is a person who will never tell a lie when the truth will do as much damage.

L’shon hara is the tongue of wickedness. The Talmud teaches that worse than murder, is slander, because it kills three: “the teller, the listener and the victim.“

Our entire culture encourages gossip and slander. It is pervasive.

Jewish law is strict not only about what goes into your mouth, but about what comes out of it. Words are not real in and of themselves; they create reality. A parent who constantly calls his child a fool will discover the meaning of the term “a self-fulfilling prophecy.“ A spouse who constantly verbally abuses his or her partner establishes a pattern which can have tragic consequences.

How many families have been torn apart and divided because of words uttered in anger? How many marriages destroyed? How many friendships fractured? How many lives have they cost?

I was discussing funeral services for a father who was survived by two sons. When I asked the son who was making the arrangements, “Where will the family sit shiva?“ I was requested to make no public announcement, because the sons would not sit together in one house. The reason? Their wives stopped talking to each other years ago over some invitation which was not reciprocated. At least, that is what he thought it was. By now, he was not quite sure what had caused the split in the family. He could not remember precisely what was said or by whom it was said. But whatever it was, neither brother could forget or forgive.

The Talmud offers a very perceptive statement about a difficult passage in the Bible. The Torah says “If a person commits a murder, and the murderer was known to be an enemy of the victim, he can’t claim it was an accident, an inadvertent act.“ Commenting on that law, the Talmud asks “How do you define an ’enemy?“ The answer: “An enemy is someone you haven’t gotten along with for three days.“

Consider the implications of that comment. If somebody hurts or offends you, you are entitled to be upset with him for a couple of days. These things happen between close friends, casual acquaintances, members of a family. When someone treats you badly, it’s appropriate to be angry with her for a day or two, today and tomorrow. But by the third day, you ought to be over your anger and be reconciled. Relationships should be able to survive a 24–48 hour frost. But if you persist in being angry into a third day, it’s because you choose to prolong the argument. You are deliberately nursing a grudge, performing CPR. on a grievance that would otherwise have died of natural causes after 48 hours.

You know the story of the man who complained to his friend that whenever his wife gets angry, she becomes historical. The friend corrects him: “you mean hysterical“. The husband says: “No,“ I mean historical.“ “She starts listing everything I did wrong in the last 27 years.“

We Jews focus on words so intently because our experience as a people has taught us that verbal slanders are sooner or later followed by violent physical deeds.

Are we exaggerating? Consider if you will: for every word in Mein Kampf 125 lives were lost; for every page, 4,700 lives; for every chapter, more than 1.2 million lives.

Words have power. Words can inspire. Words can destroy. Perhaps its no accident that the Hebrew term for words is d’varim and the Hebrew word for bees is d’vorim. Words can sting like bees as they rip into the very flesh of our souls.

A journalist once wrote: “Watch your thoughts. They become words. Watch your words. They become actions. Watch your actions. They become habits. Watch your habits. They become character. Watch your character. It becomes your destiny.“

In the words of proverbs: Mavet v’chayyim b’yad halashon. Death and life are at the hand of the tongue.

For centuries the Jewish people has been sensitive to the high cost of slander and malice because rivers of Jewish blood have been shed because of false accusations and myths circulated about us. The language used about us from the Middle Ages to our own day has sought to dehumanize us. They called us parasites; they called us the devil; they called us inferior race; they called us the enemy. And because of it, we have been the target of hatred and contempt.

A word about recent developments in Israel. The outbreak of violence which has gripped Israel during the past twelve days has shown us just how fragile the peace process can be and how volatile the situation is in the Middle East. While I would agree that Ariel Sharon’s visit to the Temple Mount gave extremists a pretext for starting violence and was not helpful, the fact of the matter is Israeli intelligence knew that the Palestinians were stockpiling weapons for days preparing for an outbreak of violence. As the date to make a peace deal got closer, those opposed to peace wanted to prevent an agreement by using violence and starting riots.

But we need to be careful about the words being used to describe this latest conflict. The tragic image of a little boy being killed in the crossfire only tells half the story. Although terribly tragic, what the media didn’t show you was that Israeli troops who were shooting at Palestinians who were shooting at them, couldn’t see the boy because he was crouched behind a barricade and was not in the line of sight of Israeli forces. Jewish boys don’t kill children! Jewish soldiers don’t aim to kill non-combatants.

These are trying times for Israel. It is important that we do not point fingers at each other, but remain unified behind the government and people of Israel. The words we use to describe Israel to our neighbors, especially to the non-Jewish community are terribly important. Over ten days have gone by, and Mr. Arafat has yet to publicly condemn the violence. Mavet vahayyim b’yad halashon. Death and life are at the hand of the tongue. The moment of truth is now. Israel, under the leadership of Prime Minister Barak, was prepared to give back unprecedented areas of Israel, including parts of the old city and would even consider some type of UN control of the Temple Mount. Arafat has yet to respond to Israels’ sincere offers of peace. He remains silent now. What are his words worth, if when it really counts they ring hollow.

But Israel will not allow violence to sweep the land, to threaten the lives of its citizens. The rioters are not innocent people; they are engaged in activities that come close to war. Israel has acted with great restraint given the scope of the violence. When the very heart of Jerusalem, the Western Wall, is exposed to violence, our brothers and sisters have no choice but to defend what is ours. I understand, now more than ever, the rabbinical teaching that one who commits lashon hara, slander against the land of Israel cannot be forgiven.

Israel’s enemies will use whatever negativity there is to support their own causes. Now is the time she needs our support, not our criticism.

Yom Kippur reminds us of the words we should not say. What about the words we should say but don’t?

I want to share with you a touching story, a true story told by a Catholic nun who taught third grade. There was one student that the sister just adored–one in a million. You know the type. He was very neat in appearance but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful. His name was Mark Elkund. Mark talked incessantly, yet he was adorable.

At the end of that year, the sister was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before she knew it Mark was in her classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite.

One Friday, things just didn’t feel right. The class had worked hard on a new concept all week, and the students were frustrated with themselves and they were edgy with one another. She had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So she asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. Over the weekend she organized what they had written, so that each student would have a copy of all the statements said about them.

The next week she gave each student his or her list with all the comments written about them. Before long, the entire class was smiling. No one ever mentioned those papers in class again.

Several years later, after returning from vacation, her parents met her at the airport.

I now quote the sister in her own words: “As we were driving home, there was a lull in the conversation. My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. ’The Eklunds called last night,’ he began. ’Really?’ I said. ’I haven’t heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is.’ Dad responded quietly. ’Mark was killed in Vietnam. The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend.’ I was stunned, heart-broken. The next day I attended the funeral.

“I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. The church was packed with Mark’s friends. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin.

“After the funeral, most of Mark’s former classmates headed to Chuck’s farmhouse for lunch. Mark’s mother and father were there, ’We want to show you something,’ his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. ’They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.’ Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark’s classmates had said about him.

“’Thank you so much for doing that,’ Mark’s mother said. ’As you can see, Mark treasured it.’

“Mark’s classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, ’I still have my list. It’s in the top drawer of my desk at home.’ Chuck’s wife said, ’Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album.’ ’I have mine too,’ Marilyn said. ’It’s in my diary.’ Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. ’I carry this with me at all times,’ ’I think we all saved our lists.’

“That’s when I finally sat down and cried.“

Dear friends, those lists teach all of us two lessons. First, don’t wait to say the words that express appreciation and love. You may never get the chance. Second, you never know what impact a kind word or comment will have on a person.

In the next 24hrs. we will speak beautiful words. We will give expression to remorse; we will frame great resolves; we shall echo the undying hopes of the Jewish people. Each of us is given the power to bless the people in our lives with words–words that warm, words that heal, words that sooth, words that elate, words that touch the heart and soul.

Kol Nidre.. The words of hurt, of mistrust, of disappointment–let them go. They will only bring you bitterness and sadness. In the words of the Mahzor: vayomer adonai salachti kidvarecha, “The Lord said, I have pardoned them according to their words.“

This year let our lives be filled with words of compromise, words of care, words of kindness, words of appreciation, and above all, words of love. Amen.