When God Calls for a Private Conversation: The Pierced Ear and the Messages We Ignore

“Excuse me, don’t you think you’ve completely overdone it?” the woman turned around toward the two chatty women sitting behind her at the lecture, who had not stopped talking straight into her ear. “I can’t hear a single word!”

“Good,” one of them snapped irritably. “This is a private conversation!”

The Hebrew Slave Who Refused to Go Free

Six years have passed. The Hebrew slave, who had been sold because of his theft, is now required to complete his term of servitude and return to freedom.

But he refuses.

“I love my master,” he claims. “I do not wish to go free.” His master brings him to the door, “and his master shall pierce his ear with an awl.”

It hurts. It bleeds. It wounds. Why pierce his ear?

Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai explains: “This ear heard at Mount Sinai ‘You shall not steal,’ yet he went and stole — let it be pierced.” (Rashi, citing the Mechilta)

Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim of Luntchitz, author of the Kli Yakar, raises a piercing question: Why wasn’t his ear pierced at the moment he was caught stealing? Why do we suddenly remember — after six full years, that his ear heard at Sinai “You shall not steal” and he violated it?

The Argument That Shook the Community

The shouting rose heavenward.

On one side stood the God-fearing camp, determined to preserve Jewish tradition in its authentic form. On the other stood the enlightened modernizers, who wished to emulate the surrounding nations. They demanded to change the prayer service in their city’s great synagogue and to introduce an organ into the prayers.

At last, a wise Jew proposed a solution acceptable to all: “Let us go to the rabbi of Białystok. He is a learned man and well-versed in worldly matters. Whatever he rules, we will follow.”

Both sides, confident that the rabbi would side with them, gladly agreed.

The Rabbi’s Story Instead of a Ruling

The rabbi listened carefully to both arguments. Then, instead of issuing a ruling, he told them a story.

In one Polish city lived a wealthy magnate who had built himself a grand mansion.

One night, the household awoke in sheer terror. Raging flames licked the walls, devoured the luxurious carpets, twisted the gilded picture frames into scorched ruins, and loud explosions burst from the heavy wooden furniture. Thick smoke filled the air, making it hard to breathe.

The magnate attempted to descend into the cellar, but the heat was unbearable and he was forced to retreat at the last moment.

Once it was confirmed that all members of the household were alive and safe, the magnate broke down in bitter tears. From his broken sobs, it became clear that nearly all of his wealth had been stored in the cellar. Now, it was all gone.

At this point, everyone joined in his weeping.

A Musician’s Disturbing Observation

The magnate’s brother was a musician with an exceptionally sensitive ear. So immersed was he in music that his mind had become somewhat unbalanced. Hearing that his brother’s house was in flames, he rushed to the scene.

He stood in the courtyard and listened attentively to the cries of anguish. After a few moments, he remarked thoughtfully, “You have wonderful voices. Such a shame — such a real shame. If only you cried in harmony, you could have been an incredible choir.”

Prayer Is Not a Performance

The rabbi of Białystok turned to the moral of the story.

“Jews wish to pour out their hearts before their Creator. Life’s troubles weigh heavily upon them, and they cry out in desperate supplication, begging God for mercy. And you,” he said to the stunned modernizers, “are looking to arrange the crying and suffering to the accompaniment of an organ?”

Why the Ear Is Pierced Only After Six Years

The Kli Yakar explains why the slave’s ear is pierced only after six years. When the thief is caught, he deserves punishment for two reasons:

1. For the act of theft itself, for which he must repay what he stole but cannot.

2. For violating what he heard at Mount Sinai: “You shall not steal.”

Heaven does not punish a person for two offenses simultaneously. Therefore, he is sold into servitude to repay the stolen property, and the second punishment is deferred.

When the six years of servitude end and the former thief is expected to return to a proper Jewish life — but he refuses, claiming “I love my master,” it becomes clear that until now there was no true punishment. At that point, the deferred punishment is “unfrozen,” and the consequence for ignoring “You shall not steal” is enacted: “And his master shall pierce his ear with an awl.”

When Heaven Tries to Wake Us Up

There are times when Heaven wants to wake us up. We are sent a small flat tire. A minor setback. A light blow to the wing.

Instead of crying out to God, we try to “arrange” our sighs and groans according to the melody of life.

We ask this person for help, that one for salvation. We hope the fine will be canceled, that the doctor will prescribe something and the flu will pass, that the rabbi will speak to the yeshiva supervisor so the son will be accepted back.

But when we “can’t hear a single word,” and the message still doesn’t penetrate, Heaven must shake us harder: “And his master shall pierce his ear.”

The Holy One, blessed be He, is forced to call us in for a “private conversation.” And then, “he shall serve him forever.”