Torah Secrets to Stronger Relationships: 7 Rules That Change Everything - Rabbi Zamir Cohen (AI)

First things first and last things last. And what he hasn't heard, he says, "I haven't heard." And admits the truth. The opposite of such a person is a gollum. Why is the opposite of a wise person called a golem? What does the word golem even mean? In the natural world, we find the word golem in the life cycle of a butterfly. At first, the caterpillar hatches from the egg. Then it enters the cocoon stage called a golem in Hebrew. And only afterward does it emerge as a butterfly. That's why the Hebrew word for butterfly par hints at this process. Par to burst forth and param again referring to bursting forth first from the egg then from the cocoon. So golem means something with potential that has not yet reached its final form. When we say raw material in Hebrew, we mean material that can be developed into something. But right now, it's still unshaped, unrefined. The sages use the term golem to describe a person who has potential but hasn't yet brought it to expression. It's not meant as an insult or mockery, the way people casually insult someone today by calling them a golem. The sages use the term with depth and precision. a person who doesn't yet know how to express themselves, who hasn't yet matured. They're still in a raw form, not fully actualized. So, the sages compare the golem with the wise person, listing seven traits of each. They begin with the first trait of a wise person. A wise person does not speak in the presence of someone who is greater than him in wisdom or in years. about Hmon, the wicked man from the Purim story. The sages say he immediately burst out like a fool who jumps ahead. But a wise person, even if he has something valuable to say, will pause if someone older or wiser is present. He won't be the first to speak. If someone asks a question and there's a more respected elder present, let them respond first. Why? Because an older person typically has more life experience and experience brings depth. This is why it's so important to value the elders of previous generations, not to dismiss them as outdated, but to sit with them, listen to their wisdom, and receive guidance. The sages continue, "A wise person does not interrupt his fellow's words. This is a core measure of respectful communication. Even if you think the other person is mistaken and you have a better answer, don't interrupt. Let them finish. That's basic decency and manners. Beyond that, how many times have we ourselves thought we understood someone only to realize at the end of their sentence that we misunderstood completely? If we had jumped in mid-sentence, we would have reacted to something they didn't even mean. But by listening until the end, we gain an accurate picture. Today, interrupting has sadly become common. People cut others off mid-sentence and then casually say, "Sorry to interrupt." As if that excuse is it. But why apologize while continuing to do it? Just let the person finish. Then when it's your turn, speak your mind. Not interrupting is a sign of wisdom. When a person discusses a specific topic, he should stay focused on that subject. In Hebrew, this trait is called shelan, asking in line with the topic. He doesn't jump from one issue to another unrelated one. The Talmud tells of a time when students were sitting before Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi, the redactor of the Mishna. Among them was Rav who would later become one of the greatest sages of his generation but at the time he was still young. Also present was his relative Rabi who was older than him and close to Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi. During the class, Rav asked a question unrelated to the topic at hand. Let's say the class was on the laws of Shabbat and he asked about Teillin. Rabbi Hia said to him, "Haven't I told you many times. Never ask a question that is not related to the subject of the lesson." He continued, "If Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi were not such a great man, you would have embarrassed him. Why? Because sometimes the mind is completely immersed in one topic. And if you suddenly throw in a question from a different area, it might catch the speaker offguard. Not because he doesn't know the answer, but because he's deep into another mindset. Had the question remained on topic, the response might have been sharper or more accurate. Especially when it comes to Torah study or any deep intellectual pursuit. It's a sign of politeness, refined conduct to keep the conversation focused, not to jump around. Finish one topic and then move on to the next. This principle is reflected in the expression. First deal with the first point and then the last. For example, someone walks into a room and is asked two things. Did you see it on the stairs? What are you planning to do tomorrow? If he's wise, he answers in the order the questions were asked. Regarding, I didn't see him. As for tomorrow, I plan to, but someone who is not wise might say, "Well, tomorrow I plan to," thinking it's more important or that he prefers to speak about himself first. But that's a mistake. A wise person responds in order. Why does this matter? Because it shows mastery over your speech, your thoughts, and your information. You're organized, not scattered. And then comes another key trait of wisdom. On something he hasn't heard, he says, "I haven't heard it." No matter the topic, Torah, Jewish law, halaka, business, science, if a person doesn't know the answer, he shouldn't bluff, or give random replies. A wise person sees no shame in saying, "I don't know. I haven't learned that yet." He's willing to say, "I'll check it. I'll learn. I'll find out." Ironically, someone who tries to look like he knows everything only reveals that he's not truly wise. Admitting the truth is actually a hallmark of wisdom. The verse in Proverbs says, "On the lips of the understanding, wisdom is found." At first glance, it means that a person with bina, deep understanding, naturally speaks words of wisdom. But Rashi, the classic commentator, takes it deeper. When a person rebukes someone who is Navon, a man of understanding, he replies, "I've sinned." He doesn't get defensive. He owns up to his mistake. And that says Rashi is wisdom. The one who insists he never makes mistakes, that's the one who isn't wise. The true wise person knows he is not perfect. If he made a mistake, he admits it. Sometimes a husband and wife might argue for a long time over something and one of them knows deep down they were wrong but still they won't say I'm sorry or I was wrong. Why not? Because their ego is in the way. But when someone can climb down from the ladder of pride and say I was wrong, I apologize. That's a sign of true wisdom. But why is this a mark of wisdom? Isn't this humility? Yes, it's also a sign of humility. But King Solomon and the sages in Pier Avot, Ethics of the Fathers are teaching us that being able to admit the truth is not just a sign of humility. It's a sign of intelligence. A wise person is defined in the Mishna as one who sees what is born, meaning he thinks ahead. He sees what this choice will lead to. If you make a mistake and stubbornly refuse to admit it, what good will come of it? Even if the other person knows you're wrong, and you keep insisting you're right, you're only creating emotional distance, hurting trust, making it harder to ask for anything in the future. A wise person sees beyond the moment. He admits the truth, corrects course, and builds stronger relationships and a better self. All the anger, bitterness, and frustration that build up when someone knows they were wrong, yet stubbornly refuses to admit it, those feelings spill out. The social respect that person loses is real. He ends up losing not just spiritually, but in this world as well. That's why a wise person, one who sees what will come, knows it's better to say, "I was wrong now," than to argue for two days when I know I was in the wrong from the start. Everyone can choose their own way to say it. One person might say, "I was wrong." Another, "I apologize." Another might say, "I'm sorry." Or, "You're right. I see it differently." Now there are many ways to phrase it gently while still conveying that you're owning your mistake. In one of his letters, Rambam Mymones wrote something powerful. He said that God could testify about him. That he feels more joy when someone shows him a mistake than when someone tells him he was right. Most people are the opposite. If you bring them proof that they were right, they like you. But if you prove they were wrong, they get upset. But Rambam said, "I'm not happy about being wrong, but I am happy that someone pointed it out to me. Why? Because otherwise I would have remained in that mistake. Thanks to the one who corrected me, I'm now back on the right path. On the other hand, if someone confirms I was right, thank you. It's encouraging." But I would have kept thinking that way anyway. You just reinforced it. But the person who shows me I was mistaken. He's the one who really helped me. That's the greatness of a person. And the sages and King Solomon teach that this ability to admit the truth isn't just humility, Anava. It's a sign of true wisdom. Let's dive deeper into this Mishna. There's a structure in the text that raises a good question. It opens by saying there are seven traits of a golem and seven of wise person. But instead of listing the seven traits of the golem first, the Mishna goes on to describe the wise person, how he doesn't interrupt, how he waits his turn, etc., and only then concludes. And the opposites are found in the golem. Commentators give a beautiful explanation. This teaches a deep life message. Don't expect to be born perfect. Every person starts out as a golem, a term that in Hebrew means something raw and undeveloped. When you catch yourself interrupting people or blurting things out impulsively and reacting too quickly, you might think, "Gh, I'm such a golem." But the Mishna says, "Don't be discouraged. Everyone starts there." The golem stage is natural. It's the beginning. Refine yourself. Practice. Measure yourself honestly. Here I've improved. Here I still need work. Over time you'll grow. You'll mature. But no one is born an angel. People sometimes get discouraged and disappointed in themselves. Why do I have this struggle? Why do I have this desire, this temptation, this anger, this drive? And they start to feel like they're worthless or damaged. But that's not true. The fact that a person has a yetara, the evil inclination, is not a flaw. Even if the desire is strong, even if it's for something the Torah forbids, that doesn't mean the person is bad. He should tell himself, "This is the spiritual gym that God gave me to overcome this temptation to build myself and earn my place in the world to come." One person's challenge is in this area, another person's in that. One struggles with anger, another with unhealthy desires. That's normal. The flaw is not in having a yetzer inclination. The flaw is when you surrender to it. When you say this is who I am and stop fighting, that's when it becomes a problem. This is also the secret behind the verse. A righteous person falls seven times and gets up. He is called Zadic, righteous not because he never falls, but because he keeps getting up. He falls because he has a yetara, evil inclination, but he doesn't accept failure as permanent. He doesn't surrender to it. Eventually, he learns how to stand. Just like a child learning to walk, he stands, falls, stands again, falls again until he learns how to walk confidently. And this principle applies to every area of life. Even a wise person starts out raw, unrefined. Wisdom is a process. A person who is truly wise always remembers life and death are in the power of the tongue. He understands that peace in the home depends largely on how he uses his words. The way he speaks will determine whether his children grow up respectful and refined or rebellious and defiant, acting in direct opposition to everything he hoped to instill. If a parent speaks to their child in a way that's degrading or humiliating, even if what they're saying is technically correct, if the child feels shamed or crushed, the outcome will be negative. Rabbi Schlommo Wbe once said, "A child is like a spring. You press it, and the more you push, the farther it will eventually snap back." On the other hand, letting a child do whatever they want without boundaries is just as dangerous. The right approach says the gamarra is the left hand pushes away while the right hand draws close. In other words, the left hand symbolizing restraint is the weaker hand. Boundaries should be gentle. The right hand symbolizing closeness should be strong. Closeness and love should be abundant and powerful. Children need both boundaries and connection. But the ratio matters. Connection should be strong. Boundaries should be gentle. That's the healthy balance. Even when you have to say no, even when there's a consequence, it must never be delivered in a way that is insulting or humiliating. That's why the Mishna says, "Let the honor of your student be as dear to you as your own." A child is in a sense your student. He or she has honor and dignity just as you wouldn't want to be corrected in a public or degrading way. Your child also deserves to be corrected respectfully. Speak with dignity. Say things like, "This is what we do." Or, "That's not allowed." or here's the right way to act. Guide them gently. Sometimes consequences are necessary. That's fine. But if the child grows up bathed in warmth and love, even when they're occasionally disciplined, it's part of a whole emotional picture. The child thinks, "My father loves me. He encourages me. He praises me. If he punished me now, it's because I did something wrong. But I know I'm still loved and wanted. That child will grow up emotionally healthy and happy. And the main tool for showing warmth and love is speech. Some parents, thank God, have plenty of money, but no patience. So, they buy their children everything. Expensive games, iPhones, luxury items, anything to keep them quiet and not in my way. But when the child grows up, those same parents are shocked. Why is he so distant from me? Why doesn't he love me? Why does he treat me like a stranger? They think when I was a child, I got far less than he did. And I love my parents. I was so connected to them. Why is he detached from me? The answer is he never saw your heart. A child needs to feel the heart of their parents. He needs to know he is truly loved. And the heart is often expressed through words. When he hears words of love and warmth, praise, appreciation. When parents take an interest in his creations, offer advice and give attention, he feels uplifted, he blossoms. The same is true in marriage. Rambam mymones writes, "A man should honor his wife more than himself and love her as himself. Part of that includes knowing how to speak to your spouse, having a listening ear, offering encouragement, giving a kind word at the right time. When that happens, a relationship flourishes. There is joy and vitality in the home. Just last night, a man came to me after an event. He said his wife wants to divorce him. She has many complaints. Things are not going well. I told him, "Write down three things." And this is advice that applies to every couple, both husband to wife and wife to husband. I told a man recently, "Write down three things. These should be the three main complaints your spouse repeats. What does your wife regularly express frustration about?" There are always occasional disagreements. But when things reach the point where she says, "I can't take this anymore." And starts talking about divorce, it means these issues have been repeated again and again until she finally broke. No one wants to get divorced. If she's saying that, the situation has likely become unbearable. So, write down three recurring complaints. Even if you don't agree with her, even if you think she's wrong, tell yourself, "I'm going to change in these areas. I'm going to grow." Most often, if you look closely, the root of a wife's complaints revolves around communication. You raise your voice when you speak to me. You don't talk to me enough. You don't have time for me. You're more connected to your mother than to me. Now, the husband might respond, "What do you mean? I love you." But she doesn't always explain her feelings outright. If only he would record himself when he speaks with his wife, when he's frustrated, under pressure. And then compare that to how he speaks when his mother calls. Suddenly, his tone softens. He becomes gentle, affectionate, sweetspoken, and she watches in silence. Her heart breaks. Look how he speaks to her, and look how he speaks to me. She may not tell him directly, but he should be self-aware. This applies to all men, especially in their first year of marriage. The Torah says, "He shall be free for his home for one year and bring joy to his wife whom he has taken." Deuteronomy 24 col 5. The first year is meant to lay the foundation. If you invest deeply during that year, your entire married life will be peaceful. But if during the first year a husband treats his wife as second priority, if his job, his mother or his friends always come before her, she'll internalize that message. And from then on, she will live with anxiety and tension. It will take years of effort to undo that damage. But if the husband conveys through his time, his attention, and especially through his words, you matter to me more than anything else, he's one. That woman will be content, happy, and feel secure with him for life. And one of the clearest indicators of this is how he speaks to his mother versus his wife. She's watching. He doesn't need to speak less respectfully to his mother. He just needs to raise the level of how he speaks to his wife. The same kindness and appreciation he shows to his mother, he should show to his wife. And especially in the first year of marriage, he shouldn't have long daily phone calls with his mother in front of his wife. If you're at work and not permitted to take personal calls, then by Jewish law, you shouldn't be using that time for family conversations either. But if you're self-employed and control your schedule, find time to speak to your mother, just not at the expense of your wife's emotional needs. When you're with your wife, give her quality time. If your wife is constantly expressing the same three concerns, take note. Say to yourself, "I want peace in the home." From today, I'm changing direction. Even if you believe she's exaggerating, if she says, "We don't talk enough." And you think, "Sure, we do." Stop. If she feels there's not enough connection, it means she's lacking something. So decide from now on I'll dedicate 15 to 20 minutes a day to my wife with my phone off. Sit down with her over coffee and cake. Let her talk and listen. And when she opens up, support her emotionally. If she says, "At work, they criticize me. I'm behind. I feel like I'm not doing well." Don't respond with, "What do you expect? Maybe they're right." That will only make her feel worse. Instead, say, "I understand you. It's really hard. You're carrying so much. The home, the kids, and now pressure at work. I get it." Offer empathy, not logic. That's what your wife needs from you. And this is the power of speech. As the verse says, life and death are in the power of the tongue. That's the power of how we speak. A great principle in life. Not everything you think should be said. Not everything you say should be written. Some people say whatever pops into their head with no filter. That's not wisdom. Wisdom means knowing what to say and what not to say. The sages said a word is worth one coin, but silence is worth two. In other words, silence is more valuable than speech. We often feel the urge to speak, to be right, to prove ourselves, to show we're informed. But often it's better to be silent. You gain more. A person who masters their speech, who knows when to be quiet, is wise. Even if you're right, even if you know what to say, if you can foresee that saying it will lead to conflict, you choose silence. You know your spouse, you know your kids, you know your co-workers, you can anticipate how your words will spiral into argument. So sometimes even when you're right, you hold back for the sake of peace and the reward for that is enormous. The Talmud says, "Whoever overlooks his own honor, heaven overlooks all his transgressions." The Talmud tells a story about Rabbi Yahosua. He became gravely ill on the verge of death. A great sage Rav Papa came to visit and seeing how dire the situation was, advised the family, "Prepare burial shrouds. He doesn't have much time." Miraculously, Rabbi Yahosua recovered. From then on, Raf Papa would cross the street to avoid walking past him, perhaps feeling guilty that he'd prematurely given up hope. When Rabbi Yahosua heard about this, he said, "He doesn't need to feel uncomfortable around me." He said, "He's right. I had already died. My soul had left my body. Today, they'd call it clinical death." He described having reached the afterlife, standing before the heavenly court, and truthfully, his time was up. Before every person is born, the time of their death is set. And for him, that time had arrived. But then in that heavenly court, something happened. God said, "Since this man always chose peace over pride, you should do the same with him. Even though his time has come, return him to life." Why? Because throughout his life, he let things go. He avoided arguments, forgave offenses, chose harmony over ego. And because he didn't insist on strict justice for others, heaven didn't apply strict justice to him. They gave him more time because of how he lived. That's the power of someone who knows when to stay quiet. The ability to be silent at the right time, not out of weakness, but out of wisdom, is one of the highest levels of character. King Solomon wrote in Proverbs, "The wise store up knowledge, but the mouth of the fool invites ruin." "A wise person isn't always talking. He doesn't feel the need to share everything he knows. He saves his words for the right time and the right place. By contrast, a person who blurts out whatever is on their mind without thinking will eventually bring harm to themselves. Life will teach them the hard way. There's another verse that says, "A rod is for the back of one who lacks heart." That means someone who has no emotional awareness, no self-control, only learns through painful experiences. He doesn't understand nuance. He doesn't know when to hold back. He says whatever pops into his head. And it's only after life hits him hard through mistakes, conflict, and loss that he finally realizes, I need to learn to control my speech. But Solomon is saying, don't wait for life to teach you through suffering. Learn while you're still young. Start building yourself early before real damage is done. The wise don't just know things. They know when to speak and when not to speak. Sometimes people ask, "My grandfather passed away. I've been studying a lot of Torah and I want to share something meaningful at the Shiva, but most of my family isn't religious. Should I speak?" In moments of grief, people are more open to truth. They understand that there's something beyond this world. At a funeral or a Shiva, no one praises someone for having 10 homes or a luxury car. What do people say? He had a good heart. She helped others. He lived with kindness and purpose. He was faithful, spiritual, principled because deep down everyone knows that's what really matters. That's what carries with you to the next world. Solomon said, "It's better to go to a house of mourning than to a house of celebration. Imagine you're invited to two events in one night. A wedding and a Shiva. They're in two different cities. You have to choose. Naturally, most people would prefer the wedding. Food, music, dancing. But Solomon says, "Be wise. Go to the house of mourning." Why? Because the living will take it to heart. You don't walk away from a party with a new sense of purpose. But you do walk away from a funeral or a Shiva with perspective. You look at the person who passed and realize he was just here and now he's gone. What did he take with him? Not his house, not his bank account, not his wardrobe. He took the good he did, the kindness, the growth, the spiritual efforts, the strength it took to let go of pride. the way he chose peace instead of proving he was right. Those are the things that stay with the person forever. So Solomon says, "Go to the place where your heart will open, where your perspective will shift, where you'll reflect on what really matters in life." King Solomon says in Proverbs, "The wise store up knowledge, but the mouth of a fool brings ruin near. A truly wise person knows how to keep things to himself even when he's right. But a fool, his own mouth brings him down. And not just eventually, it's close. It's like a pit is waiting right in front of him. And his words will send him straight into it. Why? Because he lacks self-control over his speech. This is also connected to the art of listening. The wise person, as described by the ancient sages, doesn't interrupt others when they speak, and he doesn't rush to respond. He listens all the way through. As a result, he gains a more accurate understanding, and people take what he says more seriously. Let's say a 15-year-old son comes to his father with a request. To the father, it sounds completely unrealistic. He thinks this is nonsense. But if the father cuts him off and says that's ridiculous or that's not even up for discussion, the boy walks away hurt with bitterness inside. But if the father lets him finish, even if the request seems absurd, he earns the child's respect. Once the son is done, the father can pause, show he's thinking, and then answer, "I understand why you want this. It makes sense from your perspective." Then he can calmly explain why the request isn't possible. Choosing reasons that won't create more frustration. Even using a side reason that is also valid can help the child accept the answer. This way, the child walks away feeling heard, respected, and valued, even if he didn't get what he wanted. And this applies not just to parenting, but to marriage as well. In a relationship, it matters deeply that a spouse feels heard even when you disagree. Listening says, "I'm with you. I understand you." This principle is also embedded in Jewish legal courts. According to Torah law, when two parties come before a judge, say business partners trying to split or neighbors in a dispute, the judge must repeat back what he hears. He might say, "So, you're claiming this and that." And the other side is responding with such and such. Why is this necessary? First, to make sure he understood correctly. Sometimes what we think we heard isn't exactly what the speaker meant. When the judge repeats the summary, one of them might say, "No, that's not what I meant." Second, it shows the sides that the judge truly listened, that he's not just jumping to conclusions, but forming a fair and informed ruling. This isn't just relevant in court. It applies at home too. When parents mediate between children or spouses work through disagreements, the act of repeating back what you heard brings clarity and builds trust. King David once wrote, "Those who rise up against me, my ears still listen. Even if someone is insulting him, attacking him, he listens. Why? Because maybe there's some truth in what they're saying. Maybe there's something he needs to fix. So far, we've spoken on the practical level. How speech, silence, and listening can change your relationships, your parenting, your marriage for the better. But now, let's touch on the spiritual dimension of speech. There's a verse where God says, "I have placed my words in your mouth and sheltered you with my hand to plant the heavens and establish the earth." Isaiah 51:16. In other words, God created the world through speech and he gave human beings the same power to speak and to affect reality. Even the Hebrew word for object, davar, is related to the word speech, dour. Because according to Jewish tradition, everything was spoken into existence. So when someone says, "Give me that object," in Hebrew, they're literally saying, "Give me the thing that was created through speech." Even if someone doesn't believe in God and says, "I'm an atheist." The very language they speak holds a spiritual truth. They are using a word that testifies to divine speech. That's why in Hebrew, object and speech are from the same root. Because everything physical was created through God's speech. God says, "I created the world with speech and I gave you that same power." And that power is unique to human beings. Animals can see, hear, walk, eat just like humans. But only humans can speak. That's why in classic Jewish thought, there are four categories of existence. inanimate rocks, water, vegetative plants, living animals, speaking humans. Without the ability to speak, we would be just another part of the animal kingdom. But with speech, we enter a higher level of existence. And speech wasn't given to us just for basic communication. We could have managed with gestures and sounds like animals do. The real reason we were given speech was to connect with God. That's the spiritual purpose of our voice. The bonus is that we can also use it to connect with each other. When you study sacred texts, you are listening to God, reading his words. When you pray, you are speaking to God. It's a two-way relationship through speech. When we pray, we are speaking to God. Prayer creates connection. Just like a wick connects the fire above to the wax below in a candle, teil connects the spiritual world above with the physical world below. Prayer links a human being in the material world to the king of the universe to God himself. And it's a powerful force. Through prayer, a person can change their destiny, reverse harsh decrees, protect soldiers, or find solutions to personal struggles. It is one of the greatest powers that God has given us. And yet, most people don't use it. The Talmud, the central text of Jewish law and thought, teaches that one sage said to another something he had received from his own teachers. The world exists in the merit of the pure breath that comes from the mouths of school children who study the Torah. What does that mean? A child who has not yet reached bar mitzvah age, Jewish adulthood around 13, and who studies Torah, the five books of Moses and related teachings. These are young children who study in religious schools. The sage said, "The pure breath that leaves their mouths while they learn keeps the world alive." Just as oxygen is essential to physical life, Torah learning is essential to the spiritual existence of the universe. This is based on a verse where God says, "If not for my covenant day and night, I would not have established the laws of heaven and earth." In other words, without the continuous study of Torah, the world could not exist. His colleague responded, "And what about us? We are great Torah scholars, too. Don't our words matter? These were holy sages who according to tradition had the power to even revive the dead." But the first sage replied, "It's not the same. The breath of children, which has never been tainted by sin, is purer than ours. Even the most righteous adult makes mistakes and must seek forgiveness. Before reaching the age of religious responsibility, children are considered spiritually pure. So when a child recites psalms or studies Torah, the sound waves coming from their mouth are completely clean and holy. The spiritual energy they release into the world is more powerful than that of an adult, even a great rabbi. This is why it is such a beautiful and important practice to bring children to synagogue on Shabbat, the Sabbath, organize special programs for them, reward them with small treats or raffles, and have them say prayers or recite psalms. In some communities, the holy ark, where the Torah scrolls are kept, is opened especially for the children to pray. They are told stories of faith, taught laws and values appropriate to their age. This is a great merit. If a community doesn't yet do this, someone should take the initiative. Whether it's gathering the kids, sponsoring the snacks, or even hiring someone to lead the group, it is an enormous act of spiritual impact. Because, as the sage said, the voice of a child learning Torah is stronger than the Torah study of adults, even stronger than that of full-time religious students. Rabbi Haim of Vojin, one of the great mystical scholars of the 18th century, wrote in his book, Nephesh Hakayim, the soul of life. There is no doubt whatsoever that if the entire world were to stop studying Torah, even for one moment, heaven forbid, all of the upper and lower worlds would instantly collapse and return to nothingness. He continues, every spiritual world, every galaxy, every star and every realm of existence would be destroyed in that moment. The great sephodic sage known as a Benesh high explained this further. He said that this is why the sun rises in different parts of the world at different times. Why? So that somewhere in the world at every moment someone is studying Torah. When one half of the world goes to sleep, the other wakes up and continues the learning. That's how the balance of the universe is maintained. This he said is the reason God designed the earth to rotate. The ancient sages also spoke about the spiritual power of speech in another direction when it's used negatively. In the Talmud in Tractat Shabbat page 33 it says because of obscene speech great troubles come upon the world harsh decrees are renewed and the young men of Israel die. The phrase young men of Israel is a euphemism. The rabbis didn't want to say it directly, but it means that when tragedies happen, like when soldiers fall in war or young people die in accidents, it is not random. According to this teaching, one spiritual cause is impure speech. What kind of speech? Lwd jokes, vulgarity, cursing. Even if someone says, "I was just joking." Words are never just anything. speech pollutes and that spiritual pollution affects the world in ways we don't see. The air gets filled with negative energy and that spiritual contamination brings real world consequences. When you study sacred texts, even for 5 minutes, when you read Psalms, learn a Jewish law, or listen to a Torah lecture, you are helping to sustain the world. That's how powerful Torah study is. Even something like interpreting dreams is affected by the power of speech. The Talmud in tractate brahhat page 55 recounts an episode involving Rabbi Baha, one of the sages of the Talmud. He said that in Jerusalem there were 24 professional dream interpreters. These weren't random people making guesses. They were trained, respected individuals, and people paid them to interpret dreams. Even the leading Torah sages of the time recommended them. The Talmud explains that there are two types of dreams. Some dreams are simply the brain processing stress and thoughts from the day. These are meaningless and require no interpretation. But some dreams carry real messages. There are signs to distinguish these. And when such a dream occurs, one should seek someone wise who can interpret it in a positive light. Rabi Banana shared his own experience. He once had a dream and went to all 24 dream interpreters. Each gave him a different interpretation and they all came true. The Talmud concludes from this. All dreams follow the interpretation given to them. In other words, speech activates the direction the dream will take. The dream itself is like an unsolved puzzle, and how it's interpreted with words determines how it plays out in real life. This shows just how powerful speech is. In another part of the Talmud, it's recorded that a man named Barapa once came to Rabbi Judah, the prince, and told him he had a troubling dream. I dreamed my nose fell off. Rabbi Judah responded, "This means your anger is leaving you." In biblical symbolism, the nose often represents anger. Barapra continued, "Then I dreamed both my hands were cut off." The rabbi replied, "This means you'll become wealthy. You'll no longer need to work with your hands." Then he said, "And I saw both my feet cut off." The rabbi said, "You'll soon ride a horse, maybe even get a nice carriage. No need to walk." This is an example of how a wise person interprets a dream positively and by doing so helps manifest a positive outcome. The Zohar, a foundational mystical text in Judaism, teaches, "If you have a dream, tell it to someone who loves you so they will interpret it favorably. But if you tell it to someone who dislikes you and they interpret it negatively, you may bring harm upon yourself. Because once the dream is spoken, speech sets the course for what happens. So if you tell someone, I dreamed I died and they say, "Better write a will," you've just shaped the energy of that dream negatively. That's why it's important to choose someone who not only loves you but understands the power of positive interpretation. This shows us again the spiritual depth and influence of speech. The sages of ancient Jewish wisdom said about speech. What is a person's craft in this world? Make yourself as if you were mute. This is based on a verse in the book of Psalms. Do you truly speak righteousness? Psalm 58 colon 2. The sages gave it an added layer of meaning. The Hebrew word used here for craft is related to artistry. They interpreted the verse to mean what is the greatest spiritual artistry of a person. To act as if mute when it comes to gossip or harmful speech. This includes refraining from gossip, slander or harmful chatter even when the information is true. Then they asked, "Does that mean we should stay silent even when it comes to teaching Torah or helping someone?" Number the verse continues, "Speak righteousness." This teaches us that we must speak when the words bring truth, encouragement or healing. So the real art of life is knowing when to speak, when to be silent, how to speak, how to express ideas in a way that brings good into the world. A person who learns to master this can uplift themselves and everyone around them. Let us dedicate these words of Torah for the protection and success of the people of Israel and the soldiers of Israel, wherever they may be. May God fulfill the heartfelt prayers of all who participated and bless them with goodness. Amen.