The genre of Torah riddles usually comes in two types: slapstick and for the scholar. An example of the former case would be, “Who played tennis in the Bible? Joseph! He served in Pharaoh’s court (I did not say these jokes were funny). Examples of the latter presuppose a sharp and deep knowledge of the Torah and its commentaries.

This is just a riddle, but not meant to be funny at all. As a matter of fact, it’s dead serious.

What do the cases of ben sorer umoreh (the rebellious adolescent who steals from his parents – Devarim 21:18-21), zaken mamreh (the rebellious elder who refuses to follow the majority court – Devarim 17:12-13), eidim zomemim (witnesses who provide false testimony to exonerate a guilty party – Devarim 19:19), and the meisis umediach (the seducer to idolatry – Devarim 13:7-12) have in common?

There may be many common denominators between these 4 capital offenses, most notably the potential for execution by a court, but the Ramban provides a fascinating thread that connects them. The Ramban asks why are these four potentially executed (today there is no capital punishment in Judaism)? What sins did these four actually commit that would trigger such a serious consequence?

The Ramban in the context of Ben Sorer Umoreh (Devarim 21:18) states that he is not executed because of what he did but:

“…in order to discipline the public, and so that he not become a menace to others. It is the manner of Scripture so to warn that when the death penalty is imposed as a deterrent, the execution should serve as a benefit to others. Thus it mentioned the same in the case of the zaken mamreh, because, in his decision contradicting that of the court, there is no sin deserving of death, but the death sentence being imposed only to deter dissension from the Torah, as I have explained there. Similar is the case of the eidim zomemim, who are executed although they have not caused his execution. Scripture also mentions it in the case of the meisis umediach, because he is executed merely for his evil speech even though the beguiled has not worshipped the idols, nor hearkened to him; his death is rather to chasten the survivors…” (translation from Rabbi Chavel).

I have heard this Ramban explained as teaching that there may indeed be a crime of attaining a bad name, a poor reputation. Once a Jew is labeled by a court as a ben sorer umoreh, a zaken mamreh, an eid zomem or a meisis umeydiach, they have sullied their sacred soul, so much so that the crime is punishable, in extremely rare cases, by death. They are punished for attaining such an infamous designation, not for any particular action.

As we find ourselves ten days into the month of Elul and well into our 40 day trajectory of introspection and reflection, this message can help aid us to think about our role as a card-carrying member of the Jewish nation, of the People of the Torah.

First of all, we must contemplate what our ‘good name’ really means.

"טוב שם משמן טוב, ויום המות מיום הולדו" (קהלת ז"א)

“A good name is better than precious ointment, and the day of death than the day of one’s birth” (Koheles 7:1)

What does this mean and why did King Shlomo pair one’s reputation with the life cycle?

The Midrash (Midrash Zuta, Koheles, chapter 7) records that people asked King Shlomo this very question. He answered that when a person is born, their future accomplishments and potential is unknown. When a person leaves this world with many great accomplishments and a very positive reputation, the burial society provides the final kindness to this person’s remains, as they had performed multiple actions of compassion and kindness to others. Why did King Shlomo choose fine oil for his lesson and not fine wine or honey? Because oil is unique in that it does not mix with other liquids, it stands alone, just as one’s great name stands alone and above so much else.

Decades ago, after I graduated high school, I selected to attend yeshiva in Israel for the following year. That year, which became a second year, transformed my life. I became a lifelong student of Rabbi Aharon Bina, who has taken his talents from the yeshiva I attended and serves as head of the Netiv Aryeh yeshiva in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem. While I was physically and mentally preparing to leave the United States for the year of study, I distinctly remember receiving a letter from the yeshiva with final instructions. One of the instructions contained the aforementioned verse. Rav Bina felt that as yeshiva students studying in the holy cocoon of the Old City, meters from the Kotel and the Temple Mount, he expected us to minimize or avoid socializing with girls while in the Old City. The vast majority of people who come into the Old City, come to pray, to congress with God at our Holy Sites and to be moved. He knew we needed to maintain healthy relationships with friends and former classmates. But when in the Old City and in the precincts of the yeshiva, we needed to conduct ourselves differently. He cited the verse about our name and reputation because it was that important to our character.

The Mishnah in Pirkei Avos (Avos 4:17) famously tells us that there are three crowns: the diadem of Torah, the corona of priesthood and the crest of kingdom. But the radiance of a good name stands above all of them.

Sfas Emes asks an obvious question. The Mishnah speaks of 4 crowns, not three. Why then does the Mishnah enumerate three? He suggests that the crown of reputation emerges when one fuses the other 3 together. He then points out that, in an earlier citation, (Avos 2:8) a good name (minus the word crown) is considered inferior to Torah study. He said that a good name coupled with Torah, royalty and spiritual heights is in fact superior to Torah-only for its bearer earns a crown.

I believe the comment of the Ramban we cited above can provide another important lesson for this time of year: the power of labeling others. Above we spoke of the positive side. But there is, unfortunately, a negative side as well.

Have you heard the term Godwin's Law? The latter refers to the theory that when engaging in debate, the longer the polemic continues, the greater likelihood someone will call his intellectual opponent a Nazi or Hitler. People joke than anyone to one’s religious right can be labeled an extremist and anyone on one’s theological left should be called an apostate. The Ramban teaches us how damaging it is to label – or often mis-label! – someone, how labels and names stick, how reputations ruined can’t be rebuilt so easily. For this reason such a large proportion of our Yom Kippur confessions revolve around speech. We need to learn to debate without calling names, without assuming people with whom we disagree sharply are evil or are associates of malevolence. Attaining a negative label or name can rise to a capital offense, according to Ramban. We need to learn that there are red lines we should never cross when engaging in heated discussions. We should debate strongly and fight for our views, but also never label our debating partners with names that exaggerate and paint them in a much worse light than deserved.

The labels the Ramban compiles in his commentary are ones we ought to avoid. But those labels are given after much deliberation within a legal framework. The shame associated with those appellations, suggests the Ramban, have dire consequences. It behooves all of us as individuals, and as a society and a republic, to avoid name calling absent due process and deliberation. Words too can kill, as do undeserved names and labels.

It can be argued that the Torah reserves its harshest condemnation against the eidim zomemim, crooked individuals who come as witnesses to disqualify proper witnesses. They are punished with the very same penalty they would have caused had they not been caught. The Ri’tz Ge’as in his commentary on the Talmud goes far in condemning the crime of eidim zomemim. He says if there are 3 witnesses that testify together and two of the three collude to lie about a murder, all 3 witnesses are sentenced to death, not just the two culprits. This is how devastating we consider attaining the label of eid zomem.

In a certain homiletic way, offering false testimony can be extended to exaggerating as to the crimes of somone else. This too is a form of false testimony. One of the statements in the Decalogue reminds us about testifying falsely. The damage that can be done to an innocent person’s name is unquantifiable. With a greater capacity to communicate comes a great capability to harm.