The greatest issues in chinuch today?

Good moed!

I've been invited to speak at a program after Succos, on the greatest issues in chinuch [Jewish education] of our children today.

I am going to skip the perennial items of (1) Good teaching and (2) The tuition crisis, because they are obvious and because I don't have much to add on those. But here are five items I have thought of; I'd welcome additions or comments:

1. Taking advantage of our advantages
We possess many potential advantages for modern education, including advanced research in educational methodology, greater educational technology and social connectedness, a social break (relatively) from anti-Semitism (in North America), parents who are yeshiva-educated, and access to the State of Israel.
The results of making proper use of these developments could be fantastic - but if were to attempt it without real thought and research, we would lose precious time and money on unworthy, wasteful, education-damaging projects.

2. Time
This has been a perennial issue, due to our dual curriculum, the constant push for extra-curriculars, and the need for both parents to work full-time jobs, but it is worse today.
Today, our social connectedness means we all know of great programs running in other communities, and we feel pressured to imitate them, especially as that same connectedness means that the creators of those programs come market them to us.
Today, our children have resume pressure to take on outside activities.
Today, parents are aware of research that suggests kids need down time from their programmed lives.
The result is that children have gaps in basic areas of their Jewish education - halachah, tefillah, Jewish thought, Jewish history, gemara... and they form weaker relationships with their parents and mentors.
My own feeling is that we need a longer school day, and educational extra-curriculars for kids who would benefit.

3. Independent children
Our kids have lines of communication (email, IM, Facebook, cell phones, texting) that are not subject to parental permission. Those same lines of communication give them the ability to purchase whatever they want, without parental control.
The result can be poor relationships with parents and mentors, and undisciplined approaches to learning and life. To me, there is a need for parents and mentors to combat this not by trying to impose control [although I really believe that high school students don't need cell phones], but by building relationships with kids.

4. Sophisticated ignorance
Children generally migrate toward shallow and superficial presentations of information, because those are easier to grasp and they tend to sound good. Today, those presentations are all over - blog posts (like this one?), Wikipedia articles, chat room diatribes, and so on. It's everywhere, and reading it is often encouraged through school as teachers assign kids to read Wikipedia and similarly shallow resources, rather than wrestle with more complex material.
The result is that children become cynical, and they closed to real explanation and analysis. When it comes to Judaism, they read and absorb superficial on-line atheism, thinking that they have now learned it all.
To me, parents need to spend time with kids talking through the issues they learn about on-line, and helping them learn to think and analyze on a more serious level.

5. Lack of spirituality
Our culture prizes intellect over emotion (particularly in males). Add in the fathers who are yeshiva-educated and likely to pull out a sefer during davening, and the time pressure that causes people to give short shrift to tefillah, and kids don't see a whole lot of emotion in the religion of their role models. Combine this with the academic cynicism our children will encounter in their teenage years, and religion is in trouble.
My thought would be to help remedy this by having parents work on their own spirituality, and make it visible to their children.

That's my current list. What would you add/delete? What would you change?

Derashah: A Judaism of Fire (Terumah)

This Shabbos I'm speaking at a Shabbaton; you can find the flyer here. The theme of the Shabbos morning derashah is "A Judaism of Fire". The writing is not terribly complex or deep; it's not that kind of occasion. Still, I think it may resonate with some readers, so here it is:

Every time I visit this shul I take note of the beautiful drawings of the new building you're raising, and that reminds me of the old story of a visitor to Israel who attends a concert in the brand new Soloveitchik Hall.

The visitor admires the remarkable acoustics, the magnificent architectural detail, the fine furnishings. He asks one of the ushers, "Is this hall named for Joseph Soloveitchik, the great rabbi?" The usher responds, "No, it's named for Harold Soloveitchik, the writer."

The visitor thinks for a moment, but the name is unfamiliar. He asks, "What did he write?"

To which the usher responds, "A check."

This morning we read about the construction of the first magnificent synagogue, the Mishkan, the portable Temple in which the Jews connected with Gd during their 39-year journey from Mount Sinai into Israel, and then for another 440 years in the land of Israel itself. The construction was a remarkable feat, product of a collaboration of men and women who were expert in crafts ranging from weaving to leatherwork to woodwork to metalwork. The first director of the project was none other than Moshe Rabbeinu, our master Moses, who brought us the Divine command, "They shall build for Me a sanctuary, and I will dwell among them."

This morning's parshah, and the one we read next week, include more than 200 verses of instructions for creating the mishkan and populating it with ritual furnishings. But Gd did more than tell Moshe, "Build this," "Make  that."

• The Talmud[1] notes that Gd told Moshe, "This is the form of the menorah." The sages suggest that Moshe at first experienced difficulty understanding the Divine instructions regarding the menorah he was to build, until Gd showed him a menorah of fire. "This is what you shall make."
• More: A verse in our Torah portion[2] says that Gd showed Moshe the Mishkan's vessels at Mount Sinai. According to the Talmud,[3] Gd displayed to Moshe fiery images of the Ark that would hold the two tablets, the Table on which special bread would be placed, and the aforementioned menorah.
• A midrash[4] goes even further, citing an additional verse and saying הכל הראה לו דמות אש, Gd displayed to Moshe everything, in fire.

In addition to presenting verbal instructions, Gd showed Moshe images of everything he was to create, and here we learn a pedagogic lesson that extends beyond the instructions for a building: Don't just tell them, show them. Demonstrate it.

As our topic this morning is how we raise Jewish children, one lesson here is that we need to do more than tell our community's children about our ideals; we need to live these ideals, visibly. I know this is likely obvious, but I state it as a first important step for parents, and for all of us, as adults; we are role models by dint of our simple presence.

Last night we highlighted the problems of a Jewish generation some 2700 years ago, a generation that lacked a clear vision of Judaism. Looking for a vision which would not be too narrow or divisive, I proposed a broad, ground-level ideology of "Just Jewish". The idea is simple enough to transmit – but the education Gd gave to Moshe reminds us that if our children are to adopt this or any other ideology, they need more than just to hear about it; they need to see it lived in front of them, in our daily actions.

But that's just Step One; for Step Two, I refer you to the words of the playwright Franz Kafka, in a letter he dedicated to his father:[5]

"Four days a year you went to the synagogue, where you were, to say the least, closer to the indifferent than to those who took it seriously, patiently went through the prayers as a formality, sometimes amazed me by being able to show me in the prayer book the passage that was being said at the moment, and for the rest, so long as I was present in the synagogue (and this was the main thing) I was allowed to hang around wherever I liked. And so I yawned and dozed through the many hours (I don't think I was ever again so bored, except later at dancing lessons) and did my best to enjoy the few little bits of variety … How one could do anything better with that material than get rid of it as fast as possible, I could not understand; precisely the getting rid of it seemed to me to be the devoutest action."

I want to come back to Kafka's scathing words in a few minutes, but first I'd like to read you another passage. This is a text from the more famous Soloveitchik – not Harold – describing how he learned about Judaism. In a eulogy [for his son-in-law's mother], Rabbi Soloveitchik said of his own mother,

"I used to watch her arranging the house in honor of a holiday. I used to see her recite prayers; I used to watch her recite the Torah portion every Friday night and I still remember the nostalgic tune. I learned from her very much. Most of all I learned that Judaism expresses itself not only in formal compliance with the law but also in a living experience. She taught me that there is a flavor, a scent and warmth to mitzvot. I learned from her the most important thing in life - to feel the presence of the Almighty and the gentle pressure of His hand resting upon my frail shoulders. Without her teachings, which quite often were transmitted to me in silence, I would have grown up a soulless being, dry and insensitive.[6]"

Let us be clear: The central difference between Franz Kafka's experience and that of Rabbi Soloveitchik is not about level of observance, it's not about "formal compliance with the law". It's not about Kafka attending synagogue four days each year, and Rabbi Soloveitchik's mother praying daily. Rather, the point is inspiration! Visiting the synagogue just four days each year can be inspiring, and living a halachic lifestyle can be dull and dry. But Kafka's father was indifferent, and Rabbi Soloveitchik's mother conveyed a Judaism that had a flavor, a scent, a warmth – a heartfelt inspiration.

This message is displayed in the way Gd showed Moshe how to construct the Mishkan. He did not simply show Moshe a diagram of an Ark, a model of a Menorah. It was של אש, it was of fire! Indeed, the Torah describes Judaism as אשדת, a religion of fire![7] Our Judaism must crackle with energy, radiating heat, shining with brilliant light, this is an entity we wish to create, to perpetuate, to convey from generation to generation!

Of course, this presupposes that the adult feels that fire. We can't fake it; kids will detect that in less than the time it took me to state this sentence. So what does a parent do if he doesn't feel the flavor, the scent, the warmth? If shul is as dull for him as it was for Kafka's father, if cooking a Shabbos meal is boring, if she feels a duty to pass along Judaism to her children but opening up a chumash makes her feel like she's back in the worst part of her Hebrew school experience, how can she achieve inspiration? Where will the fire come from?

Some suggest that we store up our strongest emotions from various experiences, and call them to mind when we need to be moved.[8] Others suggest that we meditate. Others suggest that we look at the world with wide, reverent eyes, and recognize the beauty of Gd's Creation. All of these are valuable recommendations.

Personally, though, my favorite route is the advice of Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin, the last head of the Volozhin yeshiva. In his commentary to the Torah,[9] Rabbi Berlin wrote, "Gardens have many kinds of seeds. Still, each garden has one central variety, and small quantities of other varieties are planted around it. So, too, each Jew is filled with the mitzvot of Gd, but each has one special mitzvah in which he is extra careful."

In other words: The Torah has many, many mitzvos – 613, and then some! There are mitzvos of prayer. There are mitzvos of generosity. There are mitzvos of study. There are mitzvos of ritual. There are mitzvos of gardening and mitzvos of construction and mitzvos of calligraphy and mitzvos of medicine and mitzvos of creativity and mitzvos of music. There are mitzvos of sacrifice and asceticism, and there are mitzvos of indulgence and pleasure. There is mysticism and there is rationalism, there are chasidim and there are misnagdim, there are farmers and entertainers and social workers and scholars and writers. Torah presents a landscape of religious activity as broad and varied as humanity itself, and although we are expected to work toward achieving the whole of it, different aspects of that landscape will resonate with different people.

When we find a mitzvah to which our nature responds, which moves our heart to sing, which brings us fulfillment and a sense of, "Yes, that's what I wanted to do," then we will be inspired – and that inspiration can spill over into the rest of our Judaism.

The same applies to helping our community's children find their own inspiration.

Torah is too broad to expect that a child, unsophisticated and narrow in his experience, is going to find all of it to be beautiful and motivating. There are mitzvos that require sitting still and concentrating, a challenge at any age but certainly in adolescence. Some mitzvos are tough until one gets to the age when hormones settle down. Understanding certain mitzvos requires a great deal of contemplation. Appreciating other mitzvos requires life experience. And some mitzvos, let's face it, will never be appealing within today's world.

But again, Torah is so big and broad that everyone can find the spark from which the entire Torah, in its variegated beauty and multifarious colours, will catch fire. If children see adults living an inspired Judaism, with what resonates for us; if we offer our children a range of Jewish opportunities, to help them find what resonates for them and use it as an anchor; then we will have a much greater chance of succeeding in passing along our Judaism.

The ideas I have expressed here are not complex, perhaps the midrash, the Netziv, Kafka and Rav Soloveitchik are unfamiliar, but really, passing along Judaism is not the exclusive province of scholars of esoteric text, or deep mystical thought. Exposing our ideals, demonstrating that they inspire us, displaying the fiery image of the mishkan and its vessels, are activities each of us can do.

Of course, we have no guarantees. A parent can do everything by the book, and children will still grow up and become independent and chart their own paths, and who can guess where that will lead? Many, many fine parents have lived their ideals with enthusiasm, raising children who then said, "I'm glad that works for you, but it's not for me."

Nonetheless, when we invest the time to think about and define our ideals; when we invest the effort to live those ideals; and when we invest the heart to do it with fiery enthusiasm, then we, like Moshe, will build a mishkan, and we will see fulfillment of that Divine promise, "ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם – When you build a sanctuary for Me, I will dwell in your midst."

---

[1] Menachot 29a, based on Bamidbar 8:4

[2] Shemot 26:30

[3] Menachot 29a

[4] Psikta Zutrita Shemot 25:9, based on Shemot 25:9

[5] http://www.writersmugs.com/books/books.php?book=87&name=Kafka&title=Letter_to_His_Father

[6] http://www.traditiononline.org/news/originals/Volume%2017/No.%202/A%20Tribute%20to%20the.pdf

[7] Devarim 33:2

[8] Bnei Machshavah Tovah

[9] Haamek Davar to Bamidbar 24:6

Koheles for Kids?

I received an interesting question the other day: If you were running a minyan for young teens (12-15), how would you handle the reading of Koheles? Would you force them to deal with the 30-minute interlude, holding their Stone chumashim and likely staring off into space for long stretches, or would you find some creative way to handle this, perhaps abbreviating the reading?

[The following paragraph was accidentally omitted from the original post, and added several hours later:] Our Sages registered the same concern regarding the Book of Esther and the Haggadah, despite their gripping stories, and solved the problem by adding read-alongs to Esther (Mishneh Berurah 689:16) and distribution of toys prior to the Haggadah. (Pesachim 108b)

In general, I believe in the idea of abbreviating in certain parts of davening on a temporary basis, for the sake of building kavvanah. However, I have a hard time with the idea of abbreviating Koheles; it's only read once each year, and so the kids won't end up hearing the whole thing. Also, they are a tzibbur, and a tzibbur should read Koheles; this is not the same as having individuals skip certain paragraphs of Tehillim in pesukei d'zimra.

Another option might be to interrupt the reading with questions about the text, but I'm not clear on how that would work here. Even if the kids could be drawn into real discussion, the trade-off would be elongating an already-too-long reading.

Another option: I've been told that there was a minhag in certain communities, going back centuries, to split up Koheles between the opening and closing days of Yom Tov. This might be worthwhile.

For the most fun, perhaps there could be a "drinking game" variation for Koheles. Postpone the reading until after musaf, make kiddush, and then distribute bows of corn chips, pretzels, etc. Every time you hear "hevel", pop a pretzel. Every time you hear "ra", have a corn chip. Etc. The kids would read it, and the dentists would love you...

What would you do?

Interview with Rav Herschel Schachter on School Davening

For me, one of the toughest arenas in Jewish education is Tefillah (prayer) - how to make it appropriately meaningful for children at different ages, and how to train children to further evolve in it as they grow older.

The problem is not necessarily with the content of prayer, but with the mechanics and dynamics of running organized prayer for a group, as happens in a school setting:
* The need to pace it in a way that won't bore some or lose others;
* The need to work with individuals within a group;
* The need for staff to have their own tefillah and to model proper tefillah while still monitoring the room;
* The rules governing when one may/may not interrupt with explanations and announcements;
and so on.

This morning I came across a useful forty-minute interview of Rav Herschel Schachter, by my friend Rabbi Kenny Schiowitz, discussing these issues. Questions include:
* Is it better for teachers to daven with the group, or to daven beforehand?
* May we abridge parts of davening for educational reasons, or does that send the kids the wrong message?
* May a student be "kicked out" of minyan for discipline?

Here is the video:


You can see Rabbi Schiowitz's page here.

Purim Drinking

[Interesting Purim costume shown at Life in Israel. Funny? Sad? Offensive?]


I know I have readers who dislike the annual post on the theme of Drinking on Purim. Sorry.

Not.

On Purim we celebrate the ultimate joy of a sudden national rescue, and our sages have taught that we should imbibe alcohol at the Purim Seudah as part of this celebration. Just as we abstain from various foods and from drink at certain times of the year to induce sadness, so we indulge in various foods and in drink at other times of the year, to induce joy. The gemara’s standard for imbibing is to drink until we cannot tell the difference between “Cursed is Haman” and “Blessed is Mordechai” (Megilah 7b).

Authorities differ on how much to drink, but the following is clear: An adult who is medically, psychologically and emotionally able to drink, and who has a designated driver, should drink some amount of alcohol - preferably enough that he will feel lightheaded (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 695:2). One should enjoy his Purim meal relatively early in the afternoon, drink a little, and then sleep off the effects of the alcohol.

Many people, and I include myself in this number, have embraced the practice of drinking minimally at the Purim Seudah and then fulfilling the state of intoxication by taking a nap after the meal. This approach is sanctioned by the Rama (Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim 695:2). One might consider doing the eating/drinking/nap before participating in a communal seudah.

I know the following is obvious, and I apologize for taking your time with it, but if my blog has any reach at all then I feel an obligation to state this obvious point. Please:

1) There is no reason to give alcohol to minors who are pre-bar mitzvah to drink on Purim. It is not necessary for their fulfillment of any mitzvah. The practice might be secularly legal as sacramental wine - consult an attorney - but it is a foolish and dangerous ritual and therefore prohibited as endangering our children as well as violating our obligation of chinuch for our children.

I do believe there is a difference between giving children under the age of obligation in mitzvot a taste of wine from the formal Shabbat Kiddush (not the one in shul; I mean the one at dinner/lunch!) and engaging them in Purim drinking. The former is a formal setting, and no one (I hope) is drinking to get a buzz. On Purim, though, because the general drinking is more loose and more geared toward celebration, I believe that the rule should be that children drink no alcohol at all.

2) If your own child is a minor, but older than bar mitzvah, and able to handle a small amount of wine, then it makes sense to help your child fulfill the mitzvah with a small amount, in a supervised setting, assuming this is legal in your jurisdiction.

3) I beleve adults should not drink on Purim in the presence of young children, beyond what would normally be consumed at a meal on Shabbat. Immature children cannot tell when we are in control and when we are not, cannot comprehend the dangers associated with alcohol, cannot accept the idea that adults can do what children are not permitted to do, and cannot understand the difference between Purim and the rest of the year.

The finest joy is a celebration which centers around a Mitzvah, and this is the essence of Purim – the four mitzvot (Megilah, Sending Gifts of Food, Giving to the Poor and having a Feast) which are about experiencing joy and spreading joy and thanking HaShem for saving us from destruction.

I apologize for wasting anyone’s time by stating the obvious, but as I said above, I feel the responsibility of stating this in any forum I have available.

And not to be a party-pooper at all, but those who want to know more about this theme should see Shaarei Teshuvah of Rav Chaim Margaliyot (printed with a standard Mishneh Berurah), in his final comment on Orach Chaim:

ויותר יש לזרז עצמו בד"ת במקום שיש שם איזה שמחה אף אם היא שמחה של מצוה ועיין בסוף סוכה בענין שמחת בית השואבה וכן מבואר לעיל סימן תקכ"ט אדם אוכל ושותה ושמח ברגל ולא ימשוך בבשר ויין ובשחוק וקלות ראש לפי שאין השחוק וקלות ראש שמחה אלא הוללות וסכלות ולא נצטוינו על הוללות וסכלות אלא על שמחה שיש בה עבודת היוצר עכ"ל והוא לשון רבינו הרמב"ם ז"ל והמפרשים ז"ל פירשו לשחוק אמרתי מהולל ר"ל שיהיה באיזה ענין שיהיה השחוק הוא הוללות עבט"ז לעיל
אך לשמחה מה זו עושה ר"ל שלענין שמחה אין להחליט שאינה יפה שבאמ' יש שמחה של מצוה ולכן יש ליתן לב לדעת מה זו עושה ר"ל מה טובה אם הוא שמחה של מצוה או לא אך הואיל ואפשר כי מתוך אכילה ושתיה והוללת יתמשך לשחוק וקלות ראש לכן יקח תבלין לבסם השמחה בד"ת וחדוות ה' יהיה מעוזו ויטב לבו בד"ת וז"ש וטוב לב משתה תמיד

It is even more necessary to energize one’s self with words of Torah in a place where there is joy, even if it is joy associated with a mitzvah. See the end of Succah regarding simchas beis hashoevah. And so is explained in the Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 529, “One should eat, drink and be happy on the holiday, but not draw himself after meat and wine and laughter and lightheadedness, for laughter and lightheadedness are not joy, but empty celebration and foolishness. We are not instructed in empty celebration and foolishness, but in joy which includes service of the Creator.” This is a citation from the Rambam.
The sages explained the verse (Kohelet 2:2), “I have called laughter ‘empty celebration’” to mean that in any form, laughter is empty celebration. See the Taz earlier. [I don’t know which comment from the Taz he means.]
But “What does joy accomplish (Kohelet 2:2)” means that regarding joy, one should not conclude that it is not good. In truth, there is joy associated with mitzvot! Therefore, one should set his heart to know what joy can accomplish, meaning, what is its nature – is it joy associated with a mitzvah, or not. But since it is possible that one will be drawn to laughter and lightheadedness as a result of eating, drinking and empty celebration, therefor, one should take spices to sweeten the joy with words of Torah, and his strength will be in the joy of Gd, and his heart will be good with words of Torah. This is the meaning of ‘One of good heart is always at a feast.’

May we have wonderful and safe Purim - ליהודים היתה אורה ושמחה וששון ויקר!

Offering children financial rewards for mitzvot

A couple of weeks ago, when the Haftorah included shirat Devorah (the victory ballad composed by the prophetess Deborah, from Judges 5), I asked my elementary school-aged children whether they had been required to memorize it in school. Turns out, this had not been asked of them. I decided to put the challenge to them, offering a financial incentive for memorizing the first 5 sentences. The approach worked; they studied it, and helped each other study it, and they succeeded.

I don't feel bad about offering money for learning; this is over and above their school obligations. I offered it again this week, to memorize the six sentences of Parshas Shekalim.

But this did leave me with a few questions:
1. I value my children's chesed higher than their intellectual achievements; should I offer financial incentives for shoveling someone's driveway, or volunteering with an organization? Or should that be considered 'basic' and not something which warrants special reward?

2. What steps should I take to ensure that the mitzvah retains its inherent value in their eyes, separate from the financial reward?

3. How do I ensure that they prioritize properly, so that mitzvos without financial reward (setting the table, being polite, davening properly) don't get shunted aside in pursuit of cash?

[Side note: From what I understand, recent neurological research shows that pre-teen children memorize better than they reason, and pedagogy which tends to memorization will be better than critical analysis at this age. Of course, they need to learn critical thinking skills, too, but this is my basis for emphasizing memorization.]

Ending and then Beginning

I don't celebrate New Year's Day as a religious holiday, but something in me registers a substantive, positive change when the year flips over and we start writing 12 instead of 11. It's not that different from the feeling that comes with a birthday, just another day and yet so loaded with meaning. It's the end of the old immediately followed by the start of the new.

Starting anew immediately reminds me of a practice of my second grade ("grade two" in Canadian) rebbe, Rabbi Hyman ז"ל. Thanks to him, I am allergic to finishing a parshah, a perek of gemara, a sefer, without starting a new one. Whenever we made one of those siyyumim (celebrations of completion) that second graders perform from time to time, he had us read the first line from whatever book we were starting next. It made enough of an impression that I still do it, 30 years later.

I used to annoy my Daf Yomi crew with the practice, too; we would finish a masechta, and they wouldn't have the new volume with them and the day's Daf was concluded, but I would insist on starting the first mishnah in the new volume.

Theoretically, there is no reason to do this for the end of some specific section; we could add another line at every pause from our learning, whether at the end of a book or mid-page. One could even argue that it's a negative practice, keeping us from spending time thinking about what we have just completed. But from a psychological standpoint, it's important to do this specifically when we complete something, so that we don’t see our study as complete, but as leading to something new.

The same could be said for starting new ventures in life whenever an old one is complete, having nothing to do with study. [This has particular value when the 'completion of the old' is associated with grief and loss, but that's a discussion for another time.]

The model for Rabbi Hyman's practice might be Simchas Torah, when we start the Torah with Bereishis immediately after we finish the Torah with v'Zos haBerachah, but just the other day I came across another, earlier basis for the practice:

The gemara (Avodah Zarah 19a) records a story involving two sages, Rabbi Shimon bar Rebbe and Levi, who were studying from the same scroll. They finished learning one book, and then they wished to start a new one. The story is only recorded in the Talmud because of their debate as to what they should learn next; the fact that they had just finished a text is not directly relevant and doesn't seem to belong, and so Rav Shmuel Eideles (Maharsha) comments:

מדנקט לה בכי האי גוונא דסליק ספרא נראה דאשמעינן שבשעה שמסיימין ספר אחד יש להתחיל ספר האחר

From the fact that it brought the story in this manner, mentioning that they had just finished a book, it appears that they were teaching us that when we conclude one book we should begin another book.

So there's a solid source. May your every completion – secular year or individual day or study session – lead directly into a new beginning.

PS - The Maharsha adds a note:

כמו שאנו עושים בשמחת תורה ע"פ המדרש מפני קטרוג השטן

This is like our practice on Simchas Torah, based on a midrash of preventing the Satan's accusation.

I don't know where this midrash cited by the Maharsha appears, but Rav Ovadia does quote it to explain why there is no kaddish between completion of the Torah and the start of Bereishis on Simchas Torah (Yabia Omer 4:Orach Chaim 22).

"Half" Jews

The issue of "Half-Shabbos" is still on my mind, months after it broke in the media – but my approach has changed. At first I thought in terms of peer pressure and brain development, and then I blamed individualism/consumerism and the way that people of all religions are re-defining their beliefs and practices to suit their personal wants. But now I'm thinking again.

The aforementioned elements are important, but I've come to think that a major factor, perhaps The major factor, is that the kids who text on Shabbos are emulating their parents, who go "Half" in many halachic areas even as they tell their children to go "Whole". Herewith some examples:

Half-Emes
Slumlords and insider trading, home-based daycare centers operating without licenses, sheitel machers and at-home barbers taking cash only.

Half-Kashrus
"The Vaad says that's not kosher, but I think it's (a) a shift to the right, (b) just politics, (c) ignorance of 'real' halachah, (d) all of the above. I use it anyway – and Rabbi X says that's fine." "This bug thing is crazy." "They've gone too far this time." Sound familiar?

Half-Tznius
Movies and television shows which rebbeim tell their children are inappropriate for them – but which adults freely watch. Off-color jokes traded with a smirk. Sarcasm about school dress code policies.
When I was 12 or 13, a friend of mine babysat for a respected community figure. He was inappropriately curious, and he opened some cabinets he shouldn't have opened – and found some reading material which we had always learned didn't belong in a Torah-observant lifestyle. Of course, he told the rest of us… and what kind of message did that send us, as children?

Half-Tefillah
Coming to shul late, or leaving early, so that we only catch half of davening. Going out for a drink in the middle. Spending the repetition of the Amidah schmoozing with our neighbors. What is this, if not "Half-Tefillah"?

Half-Kavod haTorah
Complaints or slander about parents, teachers, and rabbis, both in the media we watch and in the words coming out of our own mouths – even as children learn that they are obligated to show respect to all of the above.

I could go on with more "Halves", but I think/hope the point is made – if adults are comfortable leading a "Half" Jewish lifestyle, why are we surprised that children do the same?

The irony is that adults are troubled by this. When I was a late teen, the constant refrain I heard was that mature adults understand that the world is not Black and White, but Gray – and that we teens had to grow up and learn to be Gray, too. I still hear that today; kids come back from Israel with an un-nuanced perspective, and their parents are frustrated.

Well, here we have a problem of a different stripe. Children absorb the justification offered by "Half" adults for their own conduct, that the world is Gray, and they make it their own.

For that matter, kids do it in many areas – sexual activity, davening, and more. So why are parents surprised and upset? Just because it's Shabbos?

Unschooling and a Culture of Instruction

[Please read this: Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper stands up for Israel at the G8]

This morning, toward the end of Psukei d'Zimra, I was invited to give a dvar torah during Musaf. I agreed reluctantly; I don't like to speak without planning, but I also believe it's important to take advantage of opportunities to discuss Torah.

I talked about the classic description (Shabbos 88b) of HaShem holding Mount Sinai over the heads of the Jews, demanding that they accept the Torah, even though they had already volunteered that they would accept the Torah. I offered my own take: That the Jews needed a Culture of Instruction, in addition to the Culture of Volition instituted by their ancestors with their independent pursuit of Gd. Voluntary acceptance of Torah is wonderful, but it must be complemented by a feeling that the will of Gd is compulsory.

The same idea applies to the gemara's assertion (Kiddushin 31a) that there is more reward for fulfilling a mitzvah one has been commanded to do, than in fulfilling a mitzvah one has accepted voluntarily. Certainly, there are several explanations for this idea, but one may be that the Culture of Instruction is critical to service of Gd.

Someone who serves Gd voluntarily, because the ideology resonates with her or because the mitzvos make sense to her, might well reject some particular philosophical point or practical commandment. Volition is wonderful for its elevated use of Free Will, but it must be supplemented with Instruction.

This connects with the end of Parshat Bamidbar (4:19) as well, in which we are told that each Levi was assigned a particular task in taking care of the Mishkan. Sforno comments there that no Levite could rush ahead and take a job based on wanting to do it; each person was given his role. To me, that's part of the same idea; although certain jobs were, indeed, up for those who volunteered, the Culture of Instruction was part of the Mishkan as well.

This afternoon, someone approached me in shul to tell me about a contrasting idea found in an article in today's National Post: Not a Textbook Education talks about "unschooling", or the idea of having children learn through day-to-day life activities rather than through studying required texts. I know little about the field; from the article, it sounds like children are given a lot of latitude, living an unregimented day, and are exposed to different subjects on some level. They then choose what to pursue, and how to pursue it.

I don't know just how extreme this is in practice, so I can't comment on the system. Is it truly open-ended? If a child says, "I don't want to learn how to multiply," or, "I'm not interested in understanding civics", is he left to use a calculator and ignore the political process? If so, I'd be pretty uncomfortable; I do think the Torah's Culture of Instruction is needed, because ignorance of certain fields will make a person a poor citizen.

On the other hand, any parent could tell you that an extreme Culture of Instruction could be just as bad for a child; stifling creativity, mandating a system in which Volition is worthless, will get us nowhere.

So that's what's on my mind this evening.

Parenting a needier child

This Shabbos I'm starting a new series, on "Parenting from the Torah". We'll be looking at advice from Tanach, midrash, gemara and later authorities on some of the big issues we face today. Our first class will be on parenting "needier" children.

Specifically, we'll look at two questions: (1) How do we treat a child's special needs without undermining his self-confidence? (2) How do we treat a child's special needs without causing jealousy from his siblings?

I'm not offering "Parenting Tips" here. First, I'm no better at parenting than anyone else. Second, the Torah doesn't provide clear, unambiguous guidance on parenting issues. Rather, it's going to be a discussion. But I do plan to emphasize certain points, including:

1. All of Jewish education is structured around the idea that every child has unique needs, and we are supposed to take those unique needs into account;

2. Children must know that they have your commitment to take as long as needed, and to work as creatively as needed, to help them;

3. Children must be rewarded for effort and investment, and must be encouraged in the skills and talents they have;

4. Siblings will be emphathetic and understanding if their relationships with each other are strengthened.

Here's the source sheet I plan to use:

Introduction

1. R’ Dr. Abraham Twerski and Dr. Ursula Schwartz, Positive Parenting, pg. 247

Parenting is not a canned activity. It is not something that even the best-programmed robot could do. Parenting consists of creating a relationship with a child and connecting with him in a deep and harmonious way.

We know that we need to provide for each child’s needs

2. Mishlei 22:6, R’ Shimshon Raphael Hirsch translation

חנך לנער על פי דרכו גם כי יזקין לא יסור ממנה:

Raise the boy according to the course his life will take when he is grown; then he will not depart from it even in his old age.

3. Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, Thoughts on Education, Collected Writings 7:419

The fact that the maxim חנוך לנער על פי דרכו directs our attention separately to each individual child whose education has been entrusted to us, and bids us raise each of our children according to the future course of his life, should make us mindful of yet another reflection that is no less worthy of our consideration: Every child must be raised as an individual… The practical means by which we are to guide each individual child to this height of pure devotion to duty are not the same. They are as different from one another as the tendencies and abilities, the temperaments and proclivities, the intellectual and emotional potential are in each individual personality. Every shoe does not fit all feet. The objective of our educational work should be to raise children as different as Jacob and Esau in such a manner that both of them will grow up to be good and capable men. But if this purpose is to be achieved, the two cannot be raised by the same method.

4. Talmud, Succah 28b

קטן שאינו צריך לאמו [חייב בסוכה] היכי דמי קטן שאינו צריך לאמו? אמרי דבי רבי ינאי כל שנפנה ואין אמו מקנחתו רבי שמעון בן לקיש אומר כל שנעור משנתו ואינו קורא אמא. גדולים נמי קרו! אלא כל שנעור ואינו קורא אמא אמא.

A child who does not need his mother [is obligated to sit in the Succah]. At what stage does a child no longer need his mother? In the yeshiva of R’ Yannai they said: When he does not need his mother to clean him after he uses the washroom. R’ Shimon ben Lakish said: When he wakes up without calling, “Mommy!” But don’t older people do this as well? Rather: When he wakes up without calling, “Mommy! Mommy!”

5. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, Igrot Moshe Yoreh Deah 4:29

והנה שודאי חייבים במצוות כשהביאו שערות והם בני י"ג ובנות י"ב ויש חיוב על האבות ללמדם מה שאפשר להם מקטנותם בזמן ששייך שיבינו לפי כוחם. ולא בבני שש שמחוייבין להתחיל עם סתם ילדים, אלא בזמן שמכיר כל אחד על בנו שכבר שייך ללמוד איתו הוא הזמן ללמדו

Certainly, they are obligated in mitzvot once they reach physical maturity, at the age of 12 or 13, and there is an obligation upon their parents to teach them whatever is possible from the time they are still minors. This is not at the age of six, as it is obligatory for other children, but rather at the time when each parent sees that his child may learn with him.

Maintain his optimism

6. Talmud, Eruvin 54b

רבי פרידא הוה ליה ההוא תלמידא דהוה תני ליה ארבע מאה זימני וגמר יומא חד בעיוה למלתא דמצוה תנא ליה ולא גמר אמר ליה האידנא מאי שנא אמר ליה מדההיא שעתא דאמרו ליה למר איכא מילתא דמצוה אסחאי לדעתאי וכל שעתא אמינא השתא קאי מר השתא קאי מר אמר ליה הב דעתיך ואתני ליך

R’ Preida had a student who would only learn after R’ Preida taught him a lesson 400 times. One day, R’ Preida was asked to participate in a mitzvah [which would take place after the lesson], and he taught the student but the student could not learn. He asked, “Why is it different now?” The student replied, “From the moment I heard them tell my master that there was a mitzvah to pursue, I could not focus. At every moment I said, ‘Now the master will leave, now the master will leave.’” R’ Preida said to him, “Pay attention, and I will teach you”…

7. Bereishit 4:3-4

ויהי מקץ ימים ויבא קין מפרי האדמה מנחה לד': והבל הביא גם הוא מבכרות צאנו ומחלבהן וישע ד' אל הבל ואל מנחתו:

And it was, at the end of days, Kayin brought a gift to Gd from the fruit of the land. And Hevel also brought from the first of his sheep, and their fat. And Gd turned to Hevel and to his offering.

8. Midrash, Shemot Rabbah 40:4

הגדול והקטן שוין לפני המקום, בצלאל משל יהודה ואהליאב מדן והוא מזדווג לו, אמר ר' חנינא הגדול והקטן שוים... המשכן בשני שבטים אלו נעשה, וכן המקדש, שלמה מיהודה וחירם (מלכים א ז) בן אשה אלמנה ממטה נפתלי

Great and small are equal before Gd; Betzalel was from Yehudah and Ahaliav was from Dan, and he was paired with him. R’ Chanina said: Great and small are equal… The Mishkan was created by these two tribes. So was the Beit haMikdash – Solomon from Yehudah, with Chiram, “the son of a widow from the tribe of Naftali.”

9. R’ Dr. Abraham Twerski and Dr. Ursula Schwartz, Positive Parenting, pg. 257

Medication does not do homework, medication does not practice the new pasukim, and medication does not read the chapter in social studies. It is they who do the learning, who practice their new assignments, who do the homework and who organize and plan their time and tasks in a better fashion.

The other siblings

10. Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 84:8

ר"ל בשם רבי אלעזר בן עזריה אמר צריך אדם שלא לשנות בן מבניו שע"י כתונת פסים שעשה אבינו יעקב ליוסף וישנאו אותו

Reish Lakish said, citing R’ Elazar ben Azaryah: One must not vary his treatment of one child among others, for via the striped cloak that our father Yaakov made for Yosef, ‘They hated him.’

11. Rashbam to Bereishit 37:2

והוא נער את בני בלהה וגו' - נערותו ורגילותו ומשתאיו היו עם בני בלהה ובני זלפה. ומתוך כך התחילו אחיו בני לאה לשנוא אותו:

‘And he was a youth with the children of Bilhah…’ His youth and his habits and his drinking were with the children of Bilhah and Zilpah, and so his brothers, children of Leah, began to hate him.

12. Talmud, Megilah 16a-b

לכלם נתן לאיש חלפות שמלת ולבנימן נתן חמש חליפת אפשר דבר שנצטער בו אותו צדיק יכשל בו דאמר רבא בר מחסיא אמר רב חמא בר גוריא אמר רב בשביל משקל שני סלעים מילת שהוסיף יעקב ליוסף משאר אחיו נתגלגל הדבר וירדו אבותינו למצרים אמר רבי בנימין בר יפת רמז רמז לו שעתיד בן לצאת ממנו שיצא מלפני המלך בחמשה לבושי מלכות שנאמר ומרדכי יצא בלבוש מלכות תכלת וגו'

‘He gave to all of them, to each he gave changes of clothes, and to Binyamin he gave five changes of clothes’ – Can it be that the righteous one who was pained in this manner would now stumble in the same thing? For Rava bar Machsiya said that because of the two measures of silk which Yaakov added for Yosef over his brothers, the matter developed and our ancestors descended to Egypt!

Rabbi Binyamin bar Yefet explained: Yosef hinted to Binyamin that he would have a descendant who would go out before the king in five royal garments, as it is written, ‘And Mordechai went out in royal garb…’