Skip to main content

When an Act of Speech Really Is One


The term “Act of Speech” is, from the point of view of Halachah, an oxymoron. Speech is neither fully an act nor merely a thought, but something in between, something which, in many ways, mediates between the two. So how to do we parcel out words and sentences, utterances and soliloquies? When is a break in the continuum of speech merely a pause and when does it indicated that an utterance is complete?

The halachic notion of “Toch K’dei Dibbur” – within enough time to say something – is used in many contexts to determine whether a pause separates two utterances or should be ignored. To illustrate: If I say “This animal is a burnt-offering…a peace-offering”. If the ellipsis is a pause less than the time it takes to say, “How are you doing?” (there are fine points we’ll ignore for now), then it may well be that my utterance is meaningful and I’ve made my animal a mixture of the two kinds of offerings (with all the problematics that causes). But if the ellipsis is longer than that, we ignore the latter utterance, the first one is complete, it takes effect and the animal is a burnt offering.

This tool of parsing utterances is used in all areas of halacha, for all purposes – to obligate or exempt, to render pure or impure, to forbid or permit – except in four situations. Here’s what the Gemara says in Nedarim 87a:
“The law is that “Toch K’dei Dibbur” is just like saying something (i.e., we ignore that short pause) except for the cases of the blasphemer, the idol-worshipper, one who betroths a woman and one who divorces a woman”.

What do all four of these cases have in common? I suggest the following:

Speaking, in these cases, does not merely communicate information. Speaking here is language fully realized, it is creative (or destructive) in a manner similar to how language original functioned, in the creation of the world (and destruction of worlds – Midrash Bereshit Rabba 3:9). Speaking binds one to one’s other half (Berachot 61a and various places in midrash), or severs that unity with all sorts of cosmic implications (see the end of Gemara Gittin). On a spiritual level, the blasphemer “divorces” him/herself from Hashem (and even implies such a division within Hashem – see Mishnah Sanhedrin 7:5) and the idol-worshipper attempts to bond to the object of his/her devotional utterance (one violates the prohibition of idolatry merely through speech – Mishnah Sanhedrin 7:6).

In all four cases where speech reassumes its original power as creative or destructive act, pauses have no impact. One cannot condition, modify, or retract a statement which is not suspended in that “void” where most speech hovers, between thought and action – these are not mere words, they are Acts of Speech.

Would that we treated the constant patter that issues forth from our mouths as though every utterance had the power bind us to the divine spark in our interlocutor or sever the connection between us forever. We would invest much more attention to our speech, and, of necessity, our thoughts and actions – and we would bind ourselves to the Divine Presence everywhere waiting to be revealed.

Inspired by the Daf Yomi shiur of Rav Shalom Rosner on Bava Kama 73 (5776) – all mistaken associations, sources or expressions are mine and mine alone.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The One (People) Who Must Not Be Named

Just as Balak brings Bil’am to consider his enemy from various vantage point, likewise does Parashat Balak allow us to view ourselves from the vantage point of others. The main story in Balak is of a single piece, and Am Yisrael appear only as foils for the central story – the interaction of Bil’am with Hashem. What is curious is that not only does Am Yisrael not appear as a real character in the story, we don’t even get a mention. Every time Balak or Bil’am refer to Am Yisrael in the non-visionary passages, they employ indirection: “this people”, “my enemies”, but never Yisrael. It almost feels that they are avoiding speaking the name, one which Bil’am, at least, employs so beautifully in his prophetic speeches. Now, recalling that this story of the interaction of other nations with Am Yisrael is being told in the Torah, I think the message is this: Yisrael is our name in the context of our covenantal interactions with Hashem, just as Hashem’s real name is used only in the conte...

My G-d, a Navaho?

--> Shabbat Shirah, it’s time to sing. Standing on the edge of a Red Sea that has returned to its roiling nature, drowning the fleeing, terrified Egyptian charioteers, Am Yisrael is ecstatic and, with Moshe, breaks into song. They sang in unison a song that welled up from a prophetic vision of redemption that, our sages tell us, outstripped even the visions of Yechezk’el and Isaiah, both of whom “saw” Hashem enthroned on high. The song so permeated the very fabric of being that it is introduced with the imperfect mood of the verb – Az Yashir Moshe… “Then Moshe will sing”, as though the song is every ringing in the background of our Jewishness. So what did they sing? Pure poetry, and therefore, as difficult to feel confident in parsing as it must be even to attempt to imagine what they were feeling at that moment. And yet, we reprise it every day in our morning prayers, as part of Pesukei D’Zimra. Every verse of this song is fit for deep reflection; I’ve chosen...

A Sure Bet

How to begin? This is a dilemma that many of us face repeatedly in various situations in our lives. But none of us have had to face it in quite the way that Hashem needed to confront the problem of beginning at the outset of the Torah. It’s not just that it had never been done before, but, rather, how do you begin when you have no beginning? Ein Sof , the One Without End, is also Ein Tachlit , The One Without Beginning. So the question becomes not only HOW to begin, but WHAT IS “beginning” for such a One? Kabbalah has already extensively dealt with the question of transition from the infinite to the finite, and the entire array and interaction of the sefirot and their various constellations are in part a response to this question. But in addition to the ontological question indicated above, there is an epistemological question of perhaps greater moment: How does Hashem begin the Torah such that people get off on the right foot? How does He avoid embedding the seeds ...