D’var Torah: What Peppa Pig can teach us about how we speak
Written by Rabbi Josh Levy — 26 November 2021
Unlike the Prime Minister, I have never been to Peppa Pig World.
Like most people who have been parents over the last 15 years, I have, however, watched Peppa Pig; though, mercifully, it has been quite a while since that phase of my life.
I say mercifully, but actually, Peppa Pig is one of those children’s programmes that – I suppose – I can look back on with some level of affection – mostly harmless, occasionally a little bit insightful, and, generally giving a pretty good message to our children.
A good example is the episode ‘The Quarrel’.
In it, Peppa and her best friend – who, as we all know, is Suzy Sheep – fall out over a game of cards when Peppa accuses Suzy of cheating.
They enter into a mini-cold war in which neither is able to say sorry to the other. They are unable to find a way to make peace with each other – until eventually they are reconciled with the help of the true hero of the whole show, daddy pig.
At the heart of this episode is the power of words – how easily loose words can create fractures in our relationships; the ability of language, when used thoughtfully, to make and remake the connections we need in our lives – but also how hard it can be to use words well in this way.
Which, as it happens, is also one of the core themes at the beginning of the story of Joseph, that we are reading this Shabbat.
We first encounter Joseph as a brash 17 year old, and already he is in tension with his brothers – partly the result of his father’s favouritism, but also a product of his misuse of words.
So they find themselves in a mini cold war of provocation and resentment. But in this case it is one from which they are unable to extricate themselves.
We read of the brothers in tomorrow’s portion – ‘lo yachlu dibro l’shalom’ – normally translated ‘they could not speak a friendly word to him’, but better read as, ‘they were not able to speak to him to (make) peace’.
Faced with their tensions, they could not find it in themselves to have the difficult conversation, to express how they felt. They couldn’t use words to reach a peaceful solution in their family. The head of the yeshivah of Prague in the early 1700s Yonatan Eybeschutz stated that had they just sat together, had they spoken to one another, had they argued with each another, eventually they would have made peace with each other.
But they could not find the courage to have the difficult conversation.
Tensions and challenges like this are not unknown to us, too.
Our portion asks us to reflect on the power of our words, and on our limitations: What makes it hard for us to speak to peace? The assumptions that we make about the other; our egos, our refusal to lose face; fear of what we might hear; mere stubbornness?
The example of the brothers reminds us that we do not always have a daddy pig ready to step in to help us – rather, the responsibility for how we use our words falls on each of us.
Fundamental to our relationships – to our friendships, to our families, to our community – is how we speak to each other, especially when it is difficult. Like Peppa and Suzy in the end, can we find it in ourselves to use our words for peace?