Selective Mute
The Gemara in Chulin (89a) quotes R’ Yitzchak explaining a verse in Tehillim (58:2) that one’s vocation in the world should be to make himself as a mute. This does not, he adds, extend to words of Torah, for those should be spoken, but one who does so should not become haughty about it.
But what does it mean to make himself as a mute? It means that one should be in the habit of not speaking. Really, we should be thinking before we speak, and odds are, if we do, we will not say anything. I’ve actually been working on this and noticed a few good examples.
Silence is Golden
I am on a minyan chat for Newark airport, and someone sent a picture of a Tallit which had been left folded over a seat in the airport. He posed the question, “Did anyone leave this here?” Instantly, the answer came to my mind. “Yes!” I mean, obviously, someone left it there. Generally, Talleitim don’t materialize in transportation centers by themselves.
I knew he meant “Did anyone seeing this picture leave it there; I’m alerting you that I saw it so you can get it before you leave.” But he did word it improperly, allowing for the humorous(?) response I wanted to give. But as I paused to think about it, what was the point? I’d make a silly joke. The poster would likely be annoyed, and it wouldn’t help return the object to the one who lost it. More than that, everyone else would be stuck with a text message they didn’t need to get and it would interrupt their day. For what? I desisted and didn’t reply.
On a different minyan chat, this one for my local shul, there had been talk of a later Shacharit minyan during school break. Someone asked, “Are we having a later minyan for the younger folk?” I was tempted to respond, “Yes, it’s called Minchah.” But I didn’t. It’s a silly joke and a waste of people’s time.
Speaking: A Craft for the Skilled
They say it’s better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool, than open it and remove all doubt. In these cases, by being quiet, I wasn’t thought of as a fool at all, but I would have, had I said something. That’s what R’ Yitzchak was talking about. And there’s more to it.
Knowing when to say something or not to say something takes practice, just like someone with a skilled trade. It requires thought and sensitivity, as well as a certain amount of anticipating the results of what you say.
No More Awkward Situations
Let’s say you were invited to a neighbor’s simcha. You don’t want to drive by yourself, so you call a neighbor and ask about carpooling. They tell you they don’t know what you’re referring to, as they didn’t receive any invitation. Now you feel bad, you’ve possibly caused hard feelings, and you still have to drive yourself. Had you been a practiced mute, you would have either driven alone, or asked the baal simcha (host of the occasion) who else was invited that you might ride with.
If you’re having a conversation with someone and you want to tell a story, ask yourself if all the details are necessary. I was once speaking to someone and wanted to tell them about the clever gift my daughters had gotten me. But guess what? That person doesn’t have any children. If I mention my daughters, it doesn’t make the story any more powerful, and can make him feel bad. Instead, I said, “I saw a great mug which said…” the point was made, he heard the joke and laughed, and my words didn’t cause him pain. How’s that for surgical precision?
Why Take Chances?
I was in shul in Israel and saw a family friend at a minyan close to 9am. I had just come from the airport, but as he was in Kollel and lived some distance away, I was surprised to see him there. Later, when I ran into his wife, I didn’t mention that I had seen him at shul. I worried that perhaps his attendance at a later minyan would upset her, as if he was shirking his responsibilities. It’s completely possible that she knew he went, or wouldn’t care, but how could a professional take a chance like that?
The Most Powerful Weapon
I think that’s what R’ Yitzchak was getting at. We are empowered by Hashem (God) with the ability to speak. When I got my driver’s license, my mother a”h (may she rest in peace) reminded me that I was now controlling a three-thousand-pound weapon, and had to be careful. Our mouths are much more powerful. It’s a pity people can’t have their speaking privileges revoked for reckless talking, but so it is.
You have a powerful weapon which is also a powerful tool, so take R’ Yitzchak’s advice and learn how to use it for best results. Trust me, it won’t hurt a bit.
By Rabbi Jonathan Gewirtz
Rabbi Gewirtz (Operation Inspiration) welcomes comments and feedback. Write to him at info@JewishSpeechWriter.com to share your thoughts. You never know when you may be the lamp that enlightens someone else.
