07 May 2026 Behar 5786: When the Tongue is Good

With the reading of Parshas Behar, the Torah presents a number of mitzvos that govern economic life, interpersonal responsibility, and sensitivity toward others. Among these is a pasuk that, at first glance, appears in the context of financial dealings, yet Chazal reveal its far deeper and broader implication.

The Torah teaches: וְלֹ֤א תוֹנוּ֙ אִ֣ישׁ אֶת־עֲמִית֔וֹ וְיָרֵ֖אתָ מֵּאֱלֹקֶ֑יךָ כִּ֛י אֲנִ֥י ה אֱלֹקֵיכֶֽם – You shall not wrong one another, and you shall fear your G-d, for I am Hashem your G-d (Vayikra 25:17).

Rashi, citing Chazal, explains that this pasuk is not referring to monetary oppression – which has already been addressed earlier – but rather to ona’as devarim, causing pain to another through words. The Torah warns us not to hurt another person through speech – not to embarrass, not to insult, and not to speak in a way that causes emotional pain.

The concluding words of the pasuk are striking: “וְיָרֵאתָ מֵּאֱלֹקֶיךָ – and you shall fear your G-d.” Rashi explains that this phrase appears specifically in situations that are given over to the heart – matters that cannot always be detected or judged by others. Words can be subtle. A comment can be framed in a way that appears harmless, yet carries an undertone of hurt or humiliation. Only the speaker knows the true intent. Therefore, the Torah reminds us that even when no one else can see or measure the impact of our words, Hashem knows.

Chazal further illuminate the power of speech through a striking teaching in the Medrash (Vayikra Rabbah 33:1). Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel instructed his servant Tavi to go to the marketplace and purchase the best food. Tavi returned with a tongue. He then instructed him to bring the worst food, and once again, Tavi returned with a tongue.

Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel questioned this: when I asked for the best, you brought a tongue, and when I asked for the worst, you also brought a tongue. Tavi replied: מִינָּהּ טָבְתָּא וּמִינָהּ בִּישְׁתָּא, כַּד הֲוָה טַב לֵית טָבָה מִנֵּיהּ, וְכַד בִּישׁ לֵית בִּישׁ מִנֵּיהּ – From it (the tongue) comes good, and from it comes bad. When it is good, there is nothing better than it, and when it is bad, there is nothing worse than it.

The Medrash reinforces this idea with the words of Mishlei: מָוֶת וְחַיִּים בְּיַד לָשׁוֹן – Death and life are in the hands of the tongue (Mishlei 18:21).

This teaching is both simple and profound. The same faculty – speech – has the capacity to build or to destroy, to heal or to harm, to give life or to, chalilah, cause deep pain.

The prohibition of ona’as devarim is therefore not limited to overtly harsh or abusive language. It includes any form of speech that diminishes another person – a sarcastic comment, a dismissive remark, a reminder of past failures, or words spoken without sensitivity to another’s situation.

At the same time, the very same tongue that has the capacity for harm also carries the potential for immense good. A kind word can uplift another person. A word of encouragement can restore confidence. A thoughtful comment can strengthen a relationship. Words of Torah anchor us, giving depth and meaning to our everyday lives.

The Medrash is teaching us that speech itself is neutral – its impact depends entirely on how we choose to use it.

This places a profound responsibility upon us.

In our daily interactions, we speak constantly – with family, with friends, with colleagues, and even with strangers. Often, words are spoken quickly, without reflection. Yet the Torah is reminding us that every word carries weight.

Do our words build or do they break? Do they create connection or distance? Do they reflect sensitivity and awareness, or do they cause unintended hurt?

The mitzvah of וְלֹא תוֹנוּ אִישׁ אֶת עֲמִיתוֹ calls upon us to become more mindful of our speech – not only in avoiding harm, but in actively choosing words that uplift and strengthen.

And perhaps this is why the Torah concludes with “וְיָרֵאתָ מֵּאֱלֹקֶיךָ.” Proper speech is not only a matter of interpersonal conduct; it is an expression of yiras Shamayim. It reflects an awareness that our words matter, that they are heard not only by those around us, but are known before Hashem.

When we internalize this, our speech begins to change. We pause before speaking. We consider the impact of our words. We choose to use our speech as a tool for good – for kindness, for encouragement, and for connection.

At times, we may underestimate the impact of a single comment or passing remark. We assume that words are fleeting, that once spoken they disappear. But the Torah teaches otherwise. Words linger. They take root in the heart of the listener, sometimes strengthening and sometimes wounding. A moment of carelessness in speech can leave a lasting impression, while a moment of sensitivity can uplift far beyond what we imagine.

Recognizing this gives new weight to even our simplest interactions.

May we merit to guard our words carefully, to avoid causing pain to others through speech, and to harness the power of the tongue for good.

And in this merit, may our words be a source of life – bringing bracha, connection, and kedusha into our lives and the lives of those around us.

בברכת בשורות טובות ושבת שלום,

Michal