Vayishlach: What ARE the magic words?
I’m sure you’ve had this experience. A child asks you for something and it often sounds like this, “Can I have some more lemonade?” And our standard answer, most often, sounds like this, “Sure. What’s the magic word?” “Can I PLEASE have some more lemonade?”
We teach our children that please and thank you are the keys to polite interaction. But as adults, don’t we still desperately search for the true magic word? The one that will undo a mistake, soothe anger, or create peace?
Abracadabra! Poof! Magic! It may surprise you to know that this phrase is often thought to derive from the Aramaic- “abra kedabra” often translated as “I create as I speak” or “It was created as I spoke.” Aramaic was the language of the Talmud and of the Jewish people about 2000 years ago, and the concept of God creating the world through speech is a fundamental Jewish idea. Just think about the book of Genesis, “And God said. . . let there be light, and there was light.”
The word traditionally associated with animating the Golem of Prague is “Emet” (אמת), the Hebrew word for “truth.” The golem was a magical creature fashioned out of clay. According to legends, Rabbi Judah Loew, the 16th-century mystic and scholar, brought the golem to life by inscribing the word “Emet” on the creature’s forehead or placing it inside its mouth. To deactivate or disable the Golem, the word’s first letter “Alef” (א) was often removed or erased, changing “Emet” to “Met” (מת), meaning “death” or “dead.” This act would render the Golem inactive or lifeless.
Our words have power. As God creates the world through speech, so we create and destroy through the act of speech. We lift each other up and we tear each other down by the words we use.
No one understood this power better than the patriarch Jacob in this week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach. Jacob is about to meet his estranged brother, Esau. The last time they were together, Jacob was a thief who stole the birthright, and Esau was swearing vengeance. Jacob fled the scene, built a life Haran, married, had kids, got a job- the whole thing.
As our parsha opens, Jacob sends messengers ahead of his encampment, with the words that he hopes will open his brother’s heart and foster forgiveness. He sends messengers ahead with his words, hoping they will, as the Torah describes it, “find favor in the eyes of his brother.” He needs words that have the power to disarm a small army.
What might be those magic words to unlock Esau’s heart and move him towards reconciliation? Rabbi Harold Kushner suggests that, “I may be wrong” are the holiest words in the English language. It is usually a good idea to acknowledge our own imperfection and the possibility of our own error.
Chapman and Thomas, in their fascinating study of The Five Languages of Apology, propose that we need to reach out in the specific language that will most resonate with the listener. For some it may be- “I am sorry.” For others, “I was wrong.” Perhaps an offer of restitution- “What can I do to make it right?” Some people need to hear that “I will try not to do that again.” Or, simply, “Will you please forgive me?” When we’re not sure what to say, their advice is to tap into each of these as we choose our words. I wonder what would have been the most effective for Esau and his retinue?
In our teaching, my friend and military colleague Pastor Val Sutter, would always have students on the edge of their seats when he said, “I am going to teach you the magic words.” He was addressing couples, but I think it works in any relationship. “I hear you, and I understand.” Isn’t that our deepest longing? To be heard and understood, to feel that someone is TRULY listening and gets us!
Each of these words and phrases contain their own magic. Our Temple Chai staff recently had the opportunity to learn from our own Sue Hershkowitz-Coore. A Google search reveals that she is an internationally recognized communications expert, and, wow, I think the entire Temple Chai team would say, “Amen!,” to that. She titled her talk to us, “Digital Chesed,” focusing on gently nudging us to kinder and more effective email etiquette.
I am not the only member of the staff who recently leaned in to these words, “You’re absolutely right.” We felt like we had, indeed, been led to the ultimate magic words. What could be more disarming? More affirming? You’re absolutely right. I bet it feels good to hear those words right now. The clouds part, the sun shines through, the weight is lifted from our shoulders.
I would humbly suggest expanding her wisdom and incorporating it into our real lives. I’ll footnote this with my husband Ron’s addendum- “I’d rather be happy than right.”
Jacob tried his best. He summarized his travels and sent lavish gifts, hoping his words and wealth would find favor. He and Esau do reconcile, but their connection remains superficial, and they quickly go their separate ways. I wonder what might have happened had Jacob been able to let go of any defensiveness, validate his brother’s feelings, and say the magic words, “You are absolutely right.”
As we read Parshat Vayishlach, I invite you to add these words to your interactions. I hear you. You’re absolutely right. Abracadabra! Who knows what magic might ensue!