Have you ever spoken baby talk?

Almost anyone who interacts with an infant uses this mixture of funny sounds (da-da! gah gah!) and exaggerated facial expressions, AKA baby language.

Now, let me ask you: Does speaking baby talk make you feel less of a person?

After all, here we are—grown, mature adults, intelligent people—making funny sounds and silly faces. Does that diminish who we are?

Of course not. In fact, we use baby talk when we are filled with love; and while we may hide our true selves behind structured sentences and articulated ideas, our real essence shines when we show our unconditional love.

Let’s take this idea one step further.

As highly as we think of ourselves, G‑d is the Highest of All Highs; He is the ultimate holiness and His wisdom is infinite and ungraspable.

So why would G‑d create a crass, materialistic, very-not-perfect world?

Is our world just an afterthought, somewhere at the end of the Divine priority list?

Like a loving parent who interacts with their infant through cooing and crooning, G‑d chooses to interact with us in our own “baby talk.” He hides His infinite greatness to make space for this world so he can form a loving relationship with us, and to provide us with the ability to discover Him.

Creating this world was essentially the greatest “I love you” card ever written.


This empowering idea was shared by the Rebbe forty years ago, in 1982, based on a parable of the Maggid of Mezritch. It was at a farbrengen (Chassidic gathering) commemorating the passing of his predecessor as well as the anniversary of the day the Rebbe assumed leadership.

How fitting it was for the Rebbe to share this idea! The Rebbe himself personified the concept of “speaking in baby talk.”

As a brilliant Torah scholar, the Rebbe could have dedicated his life exclusively to the deep study of the most profound ideas in the Torah. Instead, the Rebbe devoted thousands of hours to children, speaking with them, encouraging them to be better kids and better Jews.

And it wasn’t only children. The Rebbe would reply to countless letters and receive thousands of visitors (in his 80s, the Rebbe would see several thousand visitors every Sunday!), many of them simple folks, far from being Torah scholars. The Rebbe would bless them, connect with them, and speak their language.

And the Rebbe encouraged us—all of us!—to do the same: to teach Torah and inspire those around us to do mitzvot.

“Don’t think that teaching and inspiring others who might not be at your level is beneath your dignity,” the Rebbe would say again and again. “This is something we all need to do”.

After all, if G‑d can speak baby talk, we should, too.