More to say about saying less

Our previous post discussed Shammai’s advice that we should say a little but do a lot (Avot 1:15), an aphorism that parallels the popular proverb “actions speak louder than words”. This advice is not the only thing that Avot has to say on the topic. Later in the same chapter, at 1:17, Rabban Shimon the son of Rabban Gamliel teaches:

כָּל יָמַי גָּדַֽלְתִּי בֵּין הַחֲכָמִים, וְלֹא מָצָֽאתִי לְגוּף טוֹב מִשְּׁתִיקָה, וְלֹא הַמִּדְרָשׁ עִקָּר אֶלָּא הַמַּעֲשֶׂה, וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה דְבָרִים מֵבִיא חֵטְא

All my life I have been raised among the wise, and I have found nothing better for the body than silence. The essential thing is not study, but deed. And one who speaks excessively brings sin.

At first glance, this mishnah seems to echo the sentiment expressed by Shammai—but it does more than that. It praises both silence and action, and it cites excessive speech as a cause of sin.

This post takes a look at the final part of this teaching, that “one who speaks excessively brings sin”.

A preliminary point is that it is natural to assume that “speaking excessively” means “speaking excessively in relation to one’s deeds”—but that is not what the words say. At least in theory a person can speak too much but still demonstrate a great deal of activity. Does the performance of many good deeds justify, or even permit, an excess of verbiage? So far as I’m aware, this question remains unanswered. I invite readers to let me know if this is discussed anywhere.

Moving on to the third part of our mishnah, R’ Chaim Druckman cites an explanation by R’ Moshe Almosnino, presumably drawn from his Pirkei Moshe. This explanation ties the notion of excessive speak causing sin directly to Shammai’s instruction to say little but do a lot. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel relates both to the role of the teacher since it is teacher who should rein in his or her words or face the consequences.

The situation R’ Moshe Almosnino contemplates is where the teacher preaches lofty ideals and principles but can be seen to neglect them in his or her own personal life. It is here that we learn that the instruction to “don’t do what I do, do what I say” is a recipe for disaster. Particularly in fields such as mussar and fear of God, the teacher must be seen to walk the walk and talk the talk if credibility is to be maintained. If you teach fine morals during the day but go clubbing with your debauched and drunken friends at night, you will not only destroy your own good name and reputation. You will also, through your egregious hypocrisy, effectively invalidate everything you have taught your students up till now.

Outside the world of kodesh, I can think of a couple of examples. One concerns a school teacher who patiently explains to the children in his class all about the dangers of cigarette smoking, but is later spotted with a cigarette in his mouth while he was parking his car in the school playground. The second involves a driving instructor who, while clearly a capable driver, persists in driving in an unacceptable manner, saying: ”I can do this because I’ve passed my test. You can’t, because you’ll fail your test if you do”,

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Don't just say less -- say "less"!

This is the first of two posts on the principle that it is better to be sparing with one's words.

From the teachings that have been passed down to us, we see that the rabbis of the mishnah tend to express themselves very much more succinctly than their successors. This is a natural consequence of their shaping a body of law and lore—the Torah sheb’al peh (the Oral Torah)—that was designed to be learned by heart and passed down the generations via the close and intensive relationship of rabbi to talmid. The more words used, the more that had to be memorised and understood and, the greater number of words used in transmitting a teaching, the greater the risk of error.

The need to express oneself with economy is encapsulated in two mishnayot in the first chapter of Avot. One focuses simply on the quantity of words, when Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel states that whoever increases words increases sin (Avot 1:17). The other contrasts words with deeds, when Shammai (Avot 1:15) teaches:

אֱמוֹר מְעַט וַעֲשֵׂה הַרְבֵּה

“Say little—but do much”.

This aphorism is so brief that it can be explained in many ways and need not be confined to the context of learning Torah. A classic example of this is the biblical account of Abraham’s welcome for the three travellers (Bereshit ch.18), where he offers them bread and water but then delivers them a positive banquet. The opposite, saying much but doing little, is a phenomenon with which many of us are uncomfortably aware. Many examples may be found in a category of verbiage known as politicians’ promises.

A quite original explanation of אֱמוֹר מְעַט וַעֲשֵׂה הַרְבֵּה is offered by R’ Chaim Volozhiner in his Ru’ach Chaim and echoed by his son R’ Yitzchak Volozhiner’s Milei deAvot. For them the background to Shammai’s teaching has a somewhat introspective flavour to it. Picture a person who is engaged—as we should all be, if we are honest with ourselves—in a programme of self-improvement. He or she is setting out to learn more Torah, cope better with the demands of prayer and increase both the quantity and the quality of one’s conduct towards others.

For such a person, the big question is not what to do. The Torah already tells us that. Instead, we want to know how to evaluate our performance. Have we learned enough already? Do we need to do even more mitzvot, or perform the same ones again at a higher level?

While God watches and records our every effort (Avot 2:1), He does not provide a running feedback service. We might feel that, because we are performing at a higher level than we did before, we can pat ourselves on the back—but is this permitted? No, says Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai in the context of Torah learning: if you increase your learning, you are only doing what you were created for in the first place (Avot 2:9).  

Shammai, in our mishnah, reinforces the same message. According to R’ Chaim’s reading, one should say of one’s performance only the one word: “מְעַט”.  In other words, we must recognise that however well we do and however much we have accomplished, it is only small fry when we compare it with the deeds that still remain to be completed.

By saying of our own achievements “מְעַט”, we remind ourselves of our own limitations and, ideally, this will assist us to view our efforts not with pride but with humility. Once we have recognised this, we should be inspired and incentivised to push ourselves to the next level.

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