Posted on October 16, 2026 by Rabbi Noah Diamondstein
Dear friends,
One of the most widely riffed-upon commentaries in our tradition on the story of Noach has to do with the Hebrew word for the Ark that he built. That word is teivah (תֵּבָה), and in the plain context of the portion and in its use elsewhere in the Bible it clearly means some kind of enclosed seafaring vessel designed to keep its precious cargo safe. The other famous example of the Torah’s use of the word teivah is as the basket into which Yocheved placed her infant son Moses before sending him down the river to be found by Pharaoh’s daughter.
In post-biblical Hebrew though, rabbinic Hebrew, the word teivah came to take on a secondary meaning; teivah became a word meaning “word,” viewed metaphorically as a small “box” or container that holds letters, thoughts, and spiritual meaning. Teivah as “word” implies the preciousness of the meaning of that word. Like Noah’s family and the species of the Earth within the Ark, our words hold so much, and have so much power. Words can heal, save, comfort, or humor us, and words can harm, destroy, unmake, or torture us.
We have lived through a time where words seemed to matter so much–where everything a person said could be dissected ad infinitum by internet commentarians, TV pundits, and editorial authors. I remember a time where if a politician or celebrity said something problematic or controversial, those words would dominate headlines. Now, though, especially with the rise of AI generated content and many other factors contributing to a clear and significant devaluation of the spoken word, horrific words spoken by even the most powerful people in the world can fade into oblivion in a day, sometimes faster.
The Jewish People is a People that has long hung on every word. Words, texts–these are the bedrock of our cultural identity. Our liturgy is wordy, often repetitive. Our sacred scriptures are mysterious and full of nuances large and minute. The Or Yesharim, a compilation of commentaries from the Slonimer Chassidic dynasty, writes that, once, the rebbe’s students asked him: “How can a great master such as yourself ruminate over every little word?” The Rebbe replied: “A person who is unable to contract himself [thinking himself to be above such attention to detail] is in fact a small person, not a great one.”
As another great master, Elana Arian, taught us just last week: “I have a voice / My voice is powerful / My voice can change the world” The teivah is a reminder: our words matter. They have power. In an age where so many would seek to pretend that words are meaningless, let us be the community that doubles down on intentional speech and intentional text study, using the power of our words for good.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Noah Diamondstein