We often take language for granted, but Jewish tradition teaches us that the tongue, that seemingly small and insignificant organ, wields incredible influence. And sometimes, the most powerful lessons come wrapped in the most unexpected stories.
Let me tell you one, found in Midrash Tehillim, a collection of homiletic interpretations of the Book of Psalms. It's a wild tale, but stick with me, it has a point.
So, there was this Persian king, right? He was on his deathbed. The royal physicians, in their infinite wisdom, declared that the only cure was… lion's milk. Seriously!
Now, you might be thinking, "Okay, that's impossible." Well, one brave (or maybe foolhardy) servant volunteered. He said, "Give me ten goats, and I’ll get you that milk!" The king, desperate, agreed.
The servant ventured into the wilderness, goat in tow, and eventually found a lioness nursing her cubs. Cautiously, he tossed her a goat from a distance. The next day, he got a little closer. Day by day, he repeated the process, earning the lioness’s trust until he was actually playing with her and, yes, milking her! Unbelievable, right?
But here's where it gets even stranger. On his way back, the servant fell asleep and had this crazy dream. All his body parts were arguing! His legs boasted they were the most important because they carried him to the lioness. His hands claimed superiority because they milked her. The eyes argued that they guided him. The heart insisted it had come up with the whole goat-bribing scheme in the first place.
Then the tongue piped up: "What would you have done without me?"
The other body parts scoffed, "You? You're hidden away in a dark, shadowy place! You don't even have a bone!" The tongue, undeterred, retorted, "Today, you'll see that I am your king and ruler!"
The servant woke up, shaken. He delivered the milk to the king, but in his fear and confusion, he blurted out, "Here is the milk of a lion!"
Well, the king was furious. He heard "of a lion" instead of "from a lioness". He thought the servant was trying to poison him! He immediately ordered the servant to be hanged.
As he was being led to his execution, all his body parts were weeping. The tongue, ever the opportunist, said, "Didn't I tell you I was your king? If I save you, will you acknowledge my power?" They all agreed.
So, the tongue spoke up again. He pleaded with the king. The king, confused, asked why he'd ordered the execution. The tongue cleverly replied, "I said 'milk of a lion' because it would hasten your death."
The king, even more confused, said, "Why would you care? Let the milk kill you then!" He even added, "Furthermore, my name, Levya, means 'lion'.”
Then, they tested the milk, and guess what? It was, in fact, lioness milk! The king was cured. And the servant’s body parts finally acknowledged the power of the tongue.
The story ends with a powerful message: "Death and life are in the power of the tongue" (Proverbs 18:21). King David understood this. He vowed, "I will guard my ways, that I sin not with my tongue" (Psalm 39:1). The tongue, this story suggests, is more valuable than any sacrifice, as David also said, "I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify Him with thanksgiving. And it will please God more than an ox or a bull" (Psalms 69:31-32).
This midrash, this interpretive story, isn’t just about a king, a lioness, and a talking tongue. It's about the immense responsibility that comes with the gift of speech. As the Midrash Rabbah points out on numerous occasions, our words have the power to build up or tear down, to heal or to harm.
Think about it. How often do we speak without thinking? How often do we underestimate the impact of our words? This ancient story reminds us that the tongue, though small, is mighty. It demands our constant vigilance, our careful consideration, and our unwavering commitment to using it for good. So, the next time you speak, remember the lion's milk and the power within you. What kind of world are you building with your words?