After an elevated prayer, we ask Him to help elevate our speech

Our journey through the brachos of Shemoneh Esreh culminates with the tefillah of Elokai Netzor. In contrast to the sections that preceded it, which were composed by the Anshei Knesses Hagedolah, Elokai Netzor is an addition authored by the Amoraim.

At first glance, it seems odd to end the holy tefillah of Shemoneh Esreh with an appeal for elevated speech. Why single out the specific mitzvah of shemiras halashon above all others?

Rav Chaim Friedlander explains that tefillah is an exercise in channeling our power of speech toward the exalted objectives of praising Hashem and requesting our needs from Him. Therefore, we ask Hashem that after using our mouth for the sacred, we refrain from engaging it in the forbidden, as this undermines its true function and contravenes the gift of speech.

A Deeper Deficiency

The beginning of Shemoneh Esreh invokes the power of speech with our request, “Hashem sefasei tiftach u’fi yagid tehilasecha.” Now, in concluding our tefillah, we once again reference the organs of speech: “Netzor l’shoni mei’ra, usefasai meidaber mirmah.”

Lashon, the tongue, and sefasayim, lips, represent the two agents of forbidden speech — thought and deed, respectively. The lips are peripheral organs on the exterior of our face, in contrast to the tongue, which originates deep within the oral cavity.

Our tongue, the deeper of the two, corresponds to the deeper, insidious cause of forbidden speech — thinking poorly of others, and focusing on their shortcomings and failings. The word ra, evil, is coupled with the word lashon (netzor leshoni mei’ra), indicating that this is in fact the harmful root of forbidden speech. Thinking poorly of others is a far more complex and rooted deficiency than the simple act of speaking our negative observations.

The allusion to our lashon reminds us that if we wish to truly address the cheit of lashon hara, we must first recognize the thought processes that presage our forbidden speech. Are we overly critical of others and tend to easily hyperfocus on their faults? Are we akin to a fly, who is drawn to garbage? Or do we perhaps feel burdened by our own perceived inadequacies, and finding fault in others offers us the sense of superiority we crave?

Tackling lashon hara demands that we attend to its fundamental causes, and this can only be accomplished by taking a deep dive into our motivations and triggers for demeaning others. This is the true intention of our entreaty “Hashem netzor leshoni mei’ra.” Hashem, please guide me in identifying and addressing the adverse thoughts that precede adverse speech.

Sefasai, my lips, represent the natural outgrowth of thought: action. Speech is a window to the soul, and therefore when speech is consistently flawed, it’s an indication that there’s a potential deficiency in my soul. Speech is the symptom, not the cause. Mirmah, deception or harm, is also an indication of a flaw rather than its source. We engage in deception or harm when we harbor negative feelings toward others. Therefore, it’s paired with sefasai as both are the outgrowths of evil, as opposed to their origin.

Silent in the Face of Insult

It’s painful to be insulted, particularly when the affront seems unprovoked. Frequently, when we’re insulted, we respond in kind. This is the intention behind our next request, “V’limekalelai, nafshi tidom — May my soul be silent before my detractors.” We live in an olam hafuch, an upside-down world. More often than not, attributes lauded in the secular world are discouraged by the Torah. To the outside world, responding to an insult with an equally cutting remark is regarded as a sign of strength. However, the Torah tells us otherwise. “Mah omanuso shel adam b’olam hazeh? Yasim atzmo k’ilem — What is a man’s craft in this world? Rendering himself mute.” (Chullin 89a)

The Gemara here intentionally uses the word omanuso, a trade or craft. The Ponevezher Rav points out that a trade is a profession, it’s a person’s chief occupation. Developing a craft demands we hone a skill through sustained repetition, and continue doing so for the entirety of life, or for as long as we wish to work in that trade. Responding to insult with silence, making oneself into a virtual mute when we’re burning with indignity, is a lifelong pursuit. To perfect this skill, we must be in it for life, particularly since it feels so counterintuitive, and is something the rest of the world considers a sign of weakness. Learning to ignore insult should be as central to my being and identity as my chosen career.

“V’nafshi k’afar lakol tihiyeh — And may my soul be as dust before all [provocation].” Only once I’ve refined the skill of silence in the face of provocation can I hope to achieve the next level of silence: inner calm. Just as the dust feels no pain when we tread upon it, we ask Hashem to imbue us with true inner serenity in the face of insult.

Here again, we reference the role of thought in action. When we don’t register an insult as painful or personal, we are far less likely to respond with bitterness. As the old saying goes, “Hurt people hurt people.” If we don’t think we’ve been hurt, if we register insult just as the dust registers the force of a footfall, as meaningless, we will not feel compelled to respond in kind. Because, in truth, of what consequence is another’s offensive words? If they’re baseless, they’re irrelevant. And if there is an element of truth in their words, then we can use them as impetus for improvement!

Truthfully, responding to insult with acrimony is a far greater indicator of weakness than responding with equanimity. When a person maintains their cool it’s a greater indication of inner strength than when they lose their head over every perceived insult.

Mitzvos Are the Antidote

An even more valuable outgrowth of maintaining inner and outer calm when we’re insulted is, “P’sach libi b’sorasecha — open my heart to Your Torah.” When I’m busy registering, collecting, and managing scores of insults, my heart is mired in resentment and umbrage. A heart in this state of unrest may be capable of understanding Torah, but it isn’t positioned to absorb and embody Torah. Therefore, a “nafshi k’afar lakol tihiyeh” becomes a lev that’s “pasuach l’sorasecha.”

Sometimes insults are more than a benign nuisance, but are symptoms of an encompassing assault or offensive. The Avudraham explains that if I’m pursued by those who think poorly of me and wish to harm me, I should pursue mitzvos as an antidote. “V’acharei mitzvosecha tirdof nafshi.” Measure for measure, Hashem will ensure, “v’chol hakamim v’hachoshvim alai l’ra’ah, meheirah hafeir atzasam v’kalkeil machashavtam — Those who think evil of me, their plans should be speedily annulled and their thoughts destroyed.”

Why does Hashem promise this? If my pursuers prevent me from my own pursuit of mitzvos, and Hashem recognizes that this is indeed my deepest aspiration, He will thwart their plans and impede their pursuit of me so I may resume my own pursuit of mitzvos once again.

Elevated speech begets more elevated speech. When we elevate our mouth by speaking to Hashem with tefillah, it is truly a great motivator to ensure our faculties of speech remain elevated for the duration of our day. Indeed, it is the faculty of speech that distinguishes man from animal and it is this gift that accords us our ultimate connection to Hashem, through tefillah.

Thank you for joining me on this journey through the Shemoneh Esreh. May we merit the feelings of closeness to Hashem, the clarity of purpose, and the sublime joy that issues from dedicated, sincere tefillah.

Mrs. Elana Moskowitz has been teaching in seminaries for over 20 years.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 920)