sometimes, it is precisely at the very end that its force can become unstoppable.
If a Neshamah (soul) that was never nurtured with Torah and Mitzvos could not go to its rest without unburdening itself of a hidden truth — how much more so must we, as religious Jews, who invoke Hashem daily in the course of our observance, ensure that our words and our lives bear the imprint of His seal.
Rashi offers an insightful explanation about the qualities Yisro suggests for selecting judges to handle the disputes among Bnei Yisrael. The verse in this week’s Parsha (Shemos 18:21) says that the judges must be “Anshei Emes" — men of truth — Rashi explains: "These are people who keep their promises, upon whose words one may rely, and thereby, their commands will be obeyed."
At first this seems pretty straightforward, but Rashi is making an observation that deserves our careful attention. He is not defining "men of truth" as people who refrain from lying, or even as people who judge cases accurately. He defines them as those who keep their word and can be relied upon.
This is fascinating: Yisro is listing qualifications for judges — people whose function is adjudicating disputes and rendering verdicts. In this context, we would expect "Anshei Emes" to mean people who can weigh all of the evidence honestly, and come to the right conclusion on who is guilty or innocent. Yet Rashi does not interpret it that way. He says that Anshei Emes has nothing to do with how they will judge a case, but rather - how reliability are their words.
Then Rashi says, "...and thereby, their commands will be obeyed." Rashi is teaching us that the enforceability of justice depends on the personal integrity of the one dispensing it. A judge whose word means nothing — who promises and does not deliver, who says one thing on Tuesday and another thing on Thursday — will find that his rulings carry no weight because no one will listen, even if each individual ruling happens to be technically correct.
This lesson extends well beyond judges. Anyone in a position of influence — a rav, a teacher, a parent, a communal leader — derives their authority not merely from the correctness of their guidance but from whether people trust their word. A person can be right about everything and still be unable to influence or guide anyone if he is known to be unreliable in his personal commitments. Integrity is not just about telling the truth; it is about being true — consistent, dependable, and someone whose word and deed are one.
Chazal and the Seal of Truth
Chazal (the Sages) teach us that the seal of Hashem is truth (Shabbos 55a). It is not merely one of His attributes. It is His signature upon creation. And because every Jew carries within himself a Chelek Elokah Mima'al (a piece of Hashem from above), that same seal of truth is imprinted upon every Neshamah (soul).
Naomi Shemer is recognized as one of Israel's leading composers. Her 1967 song "Yerushalayim Shel Zahav" grew so popular that many regarded it as the country's unofficial national anthem. Yet, controversy lingered around the composition for years, as some critics claimed Shemer had taken its melody from "Pello Joxepe," a Basque lullaby. Despite these ongoing allegations, Shemer repeatedly and publicly denied the accusations.
During her last days, while suffering from advanced cancer, she penned a letter to composer Gil Aldema. She confirmed that she had heard the lullaby; she remarked that it had "gone in one ear and out the other." Yet, she acknowledged that its tune must have unintentionally influenced her own composition. Then she said something that should give us pause. She called the episode, "a regrettable work accident — so regrettable that it may be the reason for me taking ill."
She admitted to a professional mistake and felt as though an unspoken truth was weighing heavily on her. Although she might not have been able to express it in religious terms, she realized she could no longer bear this internal burden. She asked Aldema to reveal her secret once she had passed away, and he honored her request.
Naomi Shemer was not, by any account, a woman of Torah observance. Yet the Chelek Elokah Mima'al does not sleep nor retire even if its host has wandered far from her Torah roots. Hashem’s seal of truth exerts its pull until the very end — and sometimes, it is precisely at the very end that its force can become unstoppable.
