Let's talk about talking

Rabbi Eliezer Papo (the Pele Yo’etz) was a Torah scholar, kabbalist and the rabbi of a small community of peasants in Silistra (now Silistaru), Bulgaria.  From his writings we get a vivid portrait of his flock: they were simple folk, happy to go to synagogue but happier when hanging around outside it for a good chat. Their main vices, apart from wife-beating, were smoking and the excessive consumption of late-night coffee.

The Pele Yo’etz knew his people well, which is why he went to great lengths to warn them not to chat in the sacred space of the synagogue, even when prayers were not in progress but especially when they were (see Sefer Pele Yo’etz, at Bet Knesset). After all, there were plenty of places for them to enjoy their conversations apart from the mikdash me’at—the miniature sanctuary set aside to facilitate man’s encounter with God’s presence.

Another great Torah scholar and kabbalist, Rabbi Chaim Volozhiner, also warned against the dangers of casual conversation, this time in the bet midrash, the house of study. On Avot 2:13 he notes Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai’s instruction to his five leading talmidim: “Go out and see which is the good path for a person to adhere to” and observes that, even where the subject of study is a worthy one such as the identification of the proper path for a person to pursue in life, anyone who wants to talk about it should “go out” and leave the bet midrash. This is because of the ease with which a serious conversation concerning best practice in one’s personal behaviour can slip into a comfortable chat on other, probably non-Torah topics. The bet midrash should not be used in this way.  The Pele Yo’etz agrees (above, at Bet Midrash), emphasising the importance of treating this space with awe and deep respect: it is a place for learning and listening, not for street-corner banter.

Putting the guidance of these two eminent latter-day sages together, it is plain that one should chat neither in a synagogue nor in a house of study.  My personal experience is that many people, perhaps the majority, do chat in both places. Much depends on the nature of the conversation, the personalities of those who converse and the standards to which those who frequent such places are expected to conform. I also have no doubt that, in many instances, such conversation is either justifiable per se or capable of being justified. Sometimes it is impossible to avoid talking to others without appearing to be rude, standoffish or falsely pious. It is also likely that, for many people, the chance to have a chat with friends or familiar faces is an incentive to come to shul and support the minyan in the first place, rather than daven at home. Nevertheless the fact remains that there is far more talking in both places than there should be.

I am troubled by this. We all know that we should not engage in social or idle chatter in places set aside for relating to God or learning Torah, yet we do. Even though we are sometimes disturbed or distracted by the conversation of others, we struggle to appreciate that our own words might have the same effect. Ultimately, the avoidance of casual talk in synagogue and in the bet midrash affects both our relationship with God and our relationship with our fellow humans. Bearing this in mind, I’m sure we could do this a bit better.