The Power of a Word

The Power of a Word
A Reflection on Nazir

English is the strangest language.

In English, the word "love" can mean so many things.

I LOVE my wife.
I LOVE my kids.
I LOVE the Broncos.
I LOVE that sandwich.

Each of those sentences mean something different. But they all use the same core word. They all use love.

Imagine trying to explain that difference to someone who didn't speak English. Why do we use love for all those emotions and relationships? How do we differentiate between them? How do we determine what love really means? Is it by its context? Or the words around it? Can we take its meaning from one sentence and apply it elsewhere?

Such questions are not new ones. In fact, they're rather ancient. The Talmud in fact, and the book of Nazir in particular, does a good job exploring the question: What does this word mean? and How can we determine its meaning?

It accomplishes this by looking at one word in particular. The word "yom" which in Hebrew means "days."

Now, the Sages ask, how do we determine how long of a time this is?

Is it a year? Does "yom" mean a year? Or is it a few days, like a week? Or maybe a month. Maybe "yom" means 30 days.

They wrestle with this question around another question. How long did Absalom wait to cut his hair and does this length of time prove he was a Nazarite?

That's the surface question for sure and probably not too interesting for most people.

But buried within that question is really an exploration of the power of words and their meaning. Words are powerful things. And to determine what a word means you need to look at its context, and its traditional meaning, and in the end, you have to wrestle and argue it out and even then you might not be able to put your finger on its meaning.

But words are powerful in themselves. Even a simple word like "yom" or "days."

Think about how powerful the word "Love" is in English. People have killed over that word. A guy might use it with a girl and mean one thing when he actually means something completely different.

Words are powerful things! And its best, if we're confused to the meaning of said words, to wrestle it out.

That's what the sages did...even with simple words like "yom" or "days" because, in the end, words matter!

Be careful the words you choose. They're what the Divine used to create the universe!

Nazir: Sometimes this way, sometimes that

Nazir: Sometimes this way, sometimes that

Is there always a right way to do something?

A right way to ride a bicycle? A right way to drive? A right way to live your life?

Is there a right way to speak or talk or write?

That is one question that Tractate Nazir starts with. The section dedicated to the Nazarites, the holy people of the Torah, begins by asking the question: Why does the Mishnah begin this way? Why does it say that all substitutes for the language of nazirite vows are considered nazirite vows, but then explains intimations and provides examples? Why not go into substitutes for the vows before jumping into intimations?

It may seem silly to ask this question. The form of writing isn't something we usually think about. If someone says, "It's going to sour to your stomach but sweet to your mouth." And we respond, "It was sweet to my mouth, but sour to my stomach." We don't think anything about the change. But what is the right way to write and to speak? Is there a right way to enter a discussion?

The Talmud spends some time on this topic, giving examples on both sides. But then it comes to this conclusion before moving on:
Rather, the Mishna actually teaches in this manner at times, and it teaches in that manner at other times. (M. Nazir Perk 1:2B)

This is an important concept.

We can get so convinced that our way or teaching or learning or understanding is the right, the only way to approach the topic. When actually, the Talmud says, there are many ways of approaching the topic and no real right way. Sometimes we say things one way. Sometimes another. It's not about being right.

This need to be right can sadly filter into other parts of our lives. We like being right. It makes us happy. We like having the right answer and saying the right thing. But sometimes what is right one moment isn't right the next. Sometimes rightness is sensitive to context. Who are we speaking to? What is happening for them? Sometimes we must say something in this manner at one time and in that manner in other.

As a Christian pastor I find this concept incredibly freeing. Having to be right can be incredibly exhausting. Always insisting that your way is the only way, the right way, the best way to handle something drains you of life itself. (I've found that true on Facebook where conversations about what is right reign supreme!).

Instead of holding rightness up as the ultimate value, perhaps we should see rightness in context. Sometimes we will teach this way. Sometimes we will teach that way. Is one more right than another? Not really. Because in the end, it doesn't matter if one is better or not. What matters is: did it work?