Living It Up In This World
In Tazria-Metzora, we learn the laws of negaim (roughly translated as a spiritual form of leprosy), which Chazal teach are caused by lashon hara (Erchin 15b). The Medrash (Vayikra Rabba 16:2) relates a story about the great importance of refraining from lashon hara:
A traveling salesman would pass through towns calling out: “Who wants life? Who wants life?”
Rav Yannai approached the salesman. “I want life,” he said.
“You don’t need my advice,” the salesman replied, but Rav Yannai insisted that he tell him. The salesman quoted a well-known verse:
“Who is the man who desires life, length of days to see good? Withhold your tongue from evil!” (Tehillim 34:13-14).
“Until I heard this explanation, I never understood this verse,” said Rav Yannai.
Rav Yannai never understood this verse? The words state openly that one who desires life should avoid evil speech! What was so hard for him to understand?
In Kochavei Ohr, Rav Itzele Blazer explains that the words “desire life” can have other connotations. Perhaps the verse asks: “Who desires eternal life,” meaning only in the next world, and says nothing about how avoiding evil speech helps a Jew in this world. Or, perhaps the verse merely means “who desires life — as opposed to death.” This salesman taught that David Hamelech was offering us a way to live life to the fullest in this world. For Rav Yannai, this was a chiddush.
How does refraining from evil speech gain us good life in this world?
First of all, simply controlling one’s mouth saves a Jew from needless quarrels, thus saving him headaches, stress, perhaps ulcers as well. Moreover, evil speech stems from bad middos, such as jealousy and selfishness. The more one controls these tendencies, the greater a chance he has to develop the proper way of relating to his fellowman. The Chofetz Chaim (Shemiras Halashon, Zechira 1) notes that by diligently keeping the mitzvos pertaining to speech, a person will be protected from committing any sin or wrongdoing to his fellowman. The very thought of harming him will be foreign to him. Instead, he will feel a deep sense of concern and brotherhood for his fellowmen. All this enhances a Jew’s quality of life (see also ibid. Tevuna 5).
Hashem wants us always to be working on perfecting our relation with our fellowman. This is the mitzvah of “love your neighbor as yourself” (Vayikra 18:19). The Ramban (ibid.) explains that this mitzvah means more than just caring for your fellowman and wanting his welfare. You must feel happy about his success — even if he is more successful than you. This applies not only if a fellowman excels in a certain area, but you surpass him in other areas. It means to feel happiness over a fellowman’s success even if he is more successful than you in every single aspect of life.
Of course, one doesn’t reach this very high level simply by refraining from evil speech. This is a life-long process of developing a sense of love and togetherness with our fellowmen. What the Ramban is describing is the goal we should always be working towards.
This idea can explain a remarkable chiddush of the Chovas Halevavos, says Rav Dessler: In Shaar Hakenia (7), it states that when a person speaks lashon hara, the sins of his victim are transferred to him, and his mitzvos are transferred to his victim.
Why should saying lashon hara incur for the speaker punishment for sins of his victim that have nothing to do with lashon hara? asks Rav Dessler. If his victim comes late for davening, davens without kavana or fails to give tzedaka, should the one who speaks against him be punished for this? What logical connection is there? Perhaps more difficult: why should the victim of lashon hara be awarded with the speaker’s mitzvos? Did he actually do them that he deserves their reward? How can they simply be transferred over to him?
Rather, all Jews are supposed to care for each other to the extent of loving their fellowman as themselves. If the speaker of lashon hara does not do that, he is punished in a way that teaches him that he must help his fellowman. His punishment is therefore that, like it or not, you will help the one you speak against. If he has sins, you will help him by relieving him of them (i.e. taking them upon yourself!). Not only that, you will even give him your mitzvos. A Jew must be a source of good for his fellowman.
A study was once done to determine the common characteristics of highly successful businessmen. Among their findings was that in addition to their business pursuits, they were busy fighting their competition. Almost all of those interviewed had waged or were waging legal battles against competitors. In interviews, they all spoke sharply against them, clearly viewing competitors as enemies.
Except for one businessman, who was no less driven than the others in his endeavors, but nevertheless had warm relations with all of his competitors.
When asked why this was so, he explained: “Years ago, our company took a tour of the countries we export to. We wanted to see firsthand what their needs were and how to serve them better. One of those countries was Israel, and the tour guide took us to a place called the Mir Yeshiva. I’ll never forget it. It was like a college campus teeming with students, classes, lectures, lots of noisy learning, but what I really remember is two things: A lot of people were able to learn together in a small space, but there was no sign that the crowded conditions bothered them. Everyone was getting along just fine. Also, I kept looking to see — where are the managers? I figured that such an institution needed at least one manager per building, but the tour guide said that except for a cook, the only staff were teachers. Finally I told him, ‘look, somebody has to be running this school,’ and he took me to the dean’s office, where I met Rabbi Nosson Tzvi Finkel.
“I was taken aback. This man was suffering from illness, and yet he was able to manage this whole school. After the tour guide introduced me, I complimented him on his institution, and then I asked: How do you do it? How can one person run such a giant enterprise? And how did you get everyone to cooperate so nicely in such cramped conditions?
“The rabbi told me: ‘Our student body grew up with the idea that this is the correct way to behave—to think about the needs of the other person, and to be ready even to give up one’s own comfort for him. These are the abc’s of any normal society.’
“The rabbi’s words made a great impression on me. I realized that success in business did not have to mean trampling on my competitors. The more years go by, the more I see that he was right.”
May we grow in love for our fellowman!