... and I'm an alcoholic

I'm disappointed that I haven't had the time to craft derashah-style divrei torah for this website in the past month. To make up for it in some way, here's an article I wrote for the bulletin of our beit midrash's host shul, Clanton Park Synagogue. You can also find an article of mine in the Rosh HaShanah "To Go" from YU'Torah, here; the whole To Go is here.


Over the past several years I have become involved in the addictions community, helping people who were dealing with addictions and hosting a chapter of JACS (Jewish Alcoholics, Chemically dependent persons and Significant others) in Allentown, Pennsylvania.

One of the most striking elements of the JACS program, as with secular addictions programs, is the way that the addict perpetually introduces himself as an addict. Rather than say, “I was an alcoholic,” or “I was an addict,” a man or woman with decades of clean history will still say, “I am an alcoholic,” “I am an addict.”

When I first heard this mode of self-identification, I was troubled by the way it seems to fly in the face of the Rambam's advice. He writes (Hilchot Teshuvah 2:4):

”מדרכי התשובה להיות ...משנה שמו כלומר 'אני אחר, ואיני אותו האיש שעשה אותן המעשים”.

“Among the paths of repentance is that the penitent person should... change his name, as if to say, 'I am someone else, and I am not that man who performed those deeds.'”

The Rambam's advice, which is based on a gemara (Rosh HaShanah 16b), seems to argue that someone seeking to change his ways should abandon his past identity and declare himself to be someone new; how would this gel with self-identifying as an addict for life?

In fact, this may be the question at the core of a talmudic dispute. The gemara (Yoma 86b) records a debate regarding viduy:

“עבירות שהתודה עליהן יום הכיפורים זה לא יתודה עליהן יום הכיפורים אחר, ואם שנה בהן צריך להתודות יום הכיפורים אחר, ואם לא שנה בהן וחזר והתודה עליהן עליו הכתוב אומר 'ככלב שב על קאו כן כסיל שונה באולתו.'

רבי אליעזר בן יעקב אומר כל שכן שהוא משובח, שנאמר 'כי פשעי אני אדע וחטאתי נגדי תמיד.”’

“Regarding sins one admitted on this Yom Kippur, one should not admit them again on another Yom Kippur. One who repeated them must admit them on another Yom Kippur, but regarding one who did not repeat them and yet admitted them, the Torah says (Mishlei 26), 'Like a dog who sits in his vomit, so is a fool who repeats his foolishness.'

“Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov says, 'He is all the more praiseworthy! It is written (Tehillim 51), 'For I know my transgressions, and my sins are before me always!'”

The tanna kama (initial anonymous view) contends that one who confesses old sins is like a dog sitting in his own vomit, and one should not dwell upon his old identity, apparently opposing the JACS practice. Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov, on the other hand, says that it is praiseworthy to remember one's dated deviance, like the person who acknowledges his addiction perpetually.

However, this distinction is not necessarily correct; perhaps both the tanna kama and Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov endorse embracing a new identity Perhaps the debate between the tanna kama and Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov is actually a matter of psychology: Will repeated evocation of old sins keep me from developing a new persona?

That debate revolves around the word שונה, “repeat,” as used in that pasuk from Mishlei, “Like a dog who sits in his vomit, so is a fool who is שונה his foolishness”:

The tanna kama takes שונה to imply verbalization and study, like ושננתם לבניך, the mitzvah of teaching our children verbally. A sinner who speaks of his sins and reviews them is like a dog sitting in his vomit.

Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov, though, understands שונה in the sense of שנים, repetition of the sinful act itself. Speaking of the sin does not mean I am a dog returning to my vomit; only actual commission of the sin would be a foolish caninity. Speaking of the sin can actually aid me in my teshuvah.

Rabbi Elazar ben Yaakov’s distinction – performing teshuvah by speaking of old sins, while envisioning ourselves as new people – appears to be consistent with the Rambam's writings. Even though the Rambam recommends that one see himself as a new person, he also rules like Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov that one should repeat old sins in his viduy (Hilchot Teshuvah 2:8):

“ עבירות שהתודה עליהן יום הכיפורים זה חוזר ומתודה עליהן ביום הכיפורים אחר אף על פי שהוא עומד בתשובתו שנאמר 'כי פשעי אני אדע וחטאתי נגדי תמיד.,”

“Regarding sins one admitted on this Yom Kippur, one should again admit them on another Yom Kippur, even though he remains steadfast in his repentance, as it is written (Tehillim 51), 'For I know my transgressions, and my sins are before me always.'”

What we have, then, is a fundamental debate about the psychology of repentance: Is my teshuvah better served by forgetting my past altogether, or by recalling my past constantly? And Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov, and the Rambam, and JACS side with George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

But there must be a limit; at what point may we see our sins as past? Must we identify ourselves as addicts through our entire lives, for sins committed decades ago? Can that truly help us?

This may be where the Rambam's advice - to see ourselves as new people – is most helpful. We stop recalling old sins when we are in danger of allowing them to take over our identity.

Rav Eliyahu Dessler made a similar point (Michtav mei'Eliyahu I pg. 255) regarding the tactics of the yetzer hara, that element which seduces us to sin:

“הסתת היצר מגעת עד כדי שנחשוב שרצונו הוא רצוננו... מעולם לא נבחין אותו טוען 'הלא אתה צריך' אלא 'הלא אני צריך.'... היצר גנב את הבחנת האני שלנו.”

“The yetzer seduces us to the point where we think that its desire is our desire... We never perceive him demanding, 'You need to do this,' but rather we see it as our own 'I need to do this.'... The yetzer steals our sense of our own independent identity.”

A Jew who perpetually identifies himself by his sins, who lives a life of “I am an addict,” internalizes the sin so that he sees it as his own goal, his own desire. When we are in danger of falling prey to this predator, when we realize that we are identifying ourselves too closely with the sin, then we have reached the moment to step away and to stop admitting the sin. That is the moment when we must run to the Rambam's counsel, “See yourself as 'not that man who performed those deeds.'”

May all of us merit to leave behind our sins, remembering our past without letting it take over our identity, becoming new people, and so meriting a כתיבה וחתימה טובה.

Positive Parenting through Tzimtzum (Derashah Ki Tetze 5768)

(This is, I think, the longest derashah I have ever delivered on a 'normal' Shabbos, but the topic is very much on my mind and heart. The advice I present here is probably obvious to everyone, but, speaking for myself, I am so not living up to it... yet.)

As a general rule, I would not recommend looking at the Torah for Parenting models; the Torah presents many examples of dysfunctional families, and very little guidance in terms of what parents can do right. Kayin and Hevel, Yitzchak and Yishmael, Yaakov and Esav, Yosef and his brothers - this is not the place to look for advice on raising kids.

But at the start of Parshat Ki Teitzei, in the controversial law of בן סורר ומורה (ben sorer umoreh), the rebellious 12-year-old who is put to death, the Torah teaches us a very important lesson in how to raise a family.


I am not the first to say this; Rav Shlomo Eliezer Eidels, in his 16th century commentary to the gemara, argued that the whole point of the בן סורר ומורה segment is to teach us about parenting.
The gemara noted that because of legal nuances, the בן סורר ומורה is physically impossible; it has never happened and it cannot happen. It is recorded in the Torah for us to learn it and thereby receive reward. This promised reward, says Rav Eidels, is the fruit we will receive when we follow the lead of the story of the בן סורר ומורה.

Rav Eidels viewed Jewish parents in his day, the late 16th century, as grossly irresponsible. He wrote, “בזמן הזה אין נותנין לב לזה, וכל אחד מחפה על בנו אף שהוא באמת חייב מלקות ומיתת ב"ד, ואין מוכיחין אותן, והנערים הולכים רוב ימיהן בביטול תלמוד תורה…” “In our day, no one pays attention to [their children’s wild behavior], and each one covers up for his son even though he is liable for lashes and capital punishment. No one rebukes them, and the kids go most of their days without learning Torah.”
So Rav Eidels contended that the purpose of recording the law of בן סורר ומורה in the Torah was to teach Jewish parents to scold their children. In Rav Eidels’s own words: ע"י זה יוכיחו וייסרו את בניהם, when parents read this section and see what can happen, they will be inspired to rebuke their children.


I agree that this law presents parenting advice - but, במחילת כבוד תורתו וגדולתו, to me, the message is precisely the opposite of what he intended. It does not teach parents to rebuke their children; rather, it teaches parents that, often, the best approach is more sophisticated.

My proof is in the law ofבן סורר ומורה itself. This child who is off the rails, who is such a danger to society that he must be put away, is not unrebuked, he is not the product of parents who fail to teach him. As the Torah itself says, ויסרו אותו ולא ישמע אליהם, his parents rebuke him and he fails to listen. The parents report, איננו שומע בקולנו, He won’t listen to us! And the beit din whips him for a warning, and he continues to sin anyway.

The message of בן סורר ומורה is not, “Go rebuke!” Rather, the message is that although sparing the rod may spoil the child, using that rod can do a fair bit of damage, too!


Let’s look more closely at the בן סורר ומורה, and understand the nature of this child’s problem, and then we’ll understand what the Torah is teaching us.

The בן סורר ומורה is, essentially, an addict. He loves meat and wine - but, stresses the gemara, he doesn’t eat especially fine meat, he doesn’t drink especially fine wine. He isn’t a gourmet; he’s stuffing his face with whatever he can find.

The בן סורר ומורה steals in order to feed his habit. The gemara stresses that he steals from his parents, because that’s a money supply that’s always around, and so he is able to develop the addiction.

And eventually, according to the gemara, he will kill in order to be able to feed this addiction.
בן סורר ומורה is a lesson in immunizing our children to addiction.


Rabbi Dr. Avraham Twerski is a world leader in addictions treatment and founder of at least two drug rehabilitation centers, and he points out in many of his books that addiction often comes from a search for happiness, or, at least, a desire to escape unhappiness. The addict is not happy with himself, he’s not happy being himself, and so he seeks an escape. Our בן סורר ומורה finds a way to lose himself in gluttony and alcohol, and he becomes so dependent upon them for escape that he will do anything to get them.

Others have other addictions. Look at Paroh in Tanach, and his addiction to power and control. There are people who are perennially convinced that their next relationship will be the one to bring them happiness. Look at people who spend on the newest fashion, car, extension for their home, whatever, seeking that which will end the misery that is their current life and bring them lasting joy.


With בן סורר ומורה, the Torah tells us that we can’t tell these addicts to snap out of it. We can’t yell at a child for pursuing pleasure, and expect that he will suddenly become happy with his lot. When it comes to protecting our children from addiction, “Just say no” is of limited use.


Some parents try another tack: Rather than fight it, they try to provide the happiness that their children seek. Disneyworld, the latest toys and fashions, school and camp wherever the kids want to go... This is the anti-בן סורר ומורה - but, as we all know both instinctively and empirically, this doesn’t work, either.

King David had a son named Adoniyahu, and Tanach tells us that he refused to rebuke Adoniyahu, he never saddened this son of his. So Adoniyahu, accustomed to getting his way, launched a coup to take the throne. And when he was defeated, and his life was spared, he tried again!

You can give a child every object in the world, every experience imaginable, but that will not give a child happiness.


Rather, to quote Rabbi Dr. Twerski from his wonderful book, “Positive Parenting,” the job of a parent is to provide a child with the skills for achieving happiness on his own. When children grow up to become adults who can make themselves happy, then they don’t need to pursue food or alcohol or drugs or power or acquisitions - they are happy on their own.


Parents can do this, parents can provide these tools for their children, if they embrace a mystical concept called צמצום (Tzimtzum). צמצום means withdrawal. In mysticism, it refers to the way that Gd creates the universe and embraces all of it, but simultaneously withdraws immanent control and permits us freedom of choice.


In the parenting world, צמצום means that we step back, that we are careful not to overshadow our children, that rather than rebuke harshly, we show our children respect as individuals and we help them learn to make themselves happy.

*צמצום means that when a child breaks a rule, we don’t take it personally and demand an apology for having broken our rule. An apology may be appropriate - but it should never be about our parental egos. צמצום - our egos are not present at all.

*צמצום means that we don’t put ourselves out there as stars; we don’t excel in front of them in a way that will intimidate them. If I think my daughter might be insecure about how fast she can run, I don’t show her how fast I can run. If I think my son might be insecure about his reading skills, I don’t comment in front of him about how many books I have read. צמצום - we remain in the background, rather than make ourselves the focus.

*צמצום means that we don’t solve problems for our children to make them happy; rather, we help them figure out how to solve problems and make themselves happy. Rabbi Dr. Twerski tells the fictional story of a child, Notti, who comes home from school and complains about a teacher. Notti had answered a question in class, and the teacher had said it was the dumbest answer he had ever heard in his entire life. Of course, what the teacher did was grossly inappropriate, and the parent can talk to the principal - but telling Notti that he’s going to intervene is the opposite of צמצום; the parent is now solving the problem, instead of teaching Notti to do it. As Rabbi Dr. Twerski asks, “Are Notti’s parents going to intervene 20 years later when Notti’s supervisor at work mistreats him?” Rather, Notti’s father could say, “Boy, you sure got yourself a humdinger of a teacher this year.” Then the father and son can talk about tough teachers, and Notti can come to the confident conclusion, on his own, that he can withstand the ineptitude of a poor teacher. This is צמצום - stepping back and allowing the child to be the one to solve the problem.

Of course, צמצום does not mean that the parent is absent. Absentee parenting is criminal negligence. צמצום is the art of being home, being present, being involved, and yet removing one’s ego, not being the overshadowing star, and helping our children gain self-confidence and learn to solve their own problems.


I should note that this concept of צמצום is important not only for parenting, but also for the way we interact with each other. True, we aren’t each others’ parents - but the more we employ צמצום, avoiding overshadowing others, avoiding taking control of situations, the more we can help others to shine.


Rabbi Dr. Twerski never uses the term צמצום in his book; that’s just my own watchword. Nonetheless, the message of צמצום is there throughout his book. I’ll close with one story, which I believe encapsulates the message perfectly.

When Rabbi Dr. Twerski was a child, one Rosh haShanah, his family hosted a visiting rabbi. On Rosh haShanah afternoon the rabbi invited him to play chess. Young Avraham Twerski thought this was inappropriate for the day, but the rabbi assured him it would be fine. They played two games.
Later that day, Rabbi Dr. Twerski’s father called him into his study. Here is the rest of the story, as he tells it in his book:
When I entered his study, he was engrossed in a sefer, and I stood by respectfully silent, awaiting his recognition. After a few moments he looked up and said softly, “You played chess on Yom Tov?”
“Yes,” I said. “Rabbi C. said it was allowed.”
My father said nothing. He returned his gaze to the sefer, and slowly, barely perceptibly, shook his head in the negative. The message was clear: Even if technically not forbidden, it was not in the spirit of Rosh haShanah to play games. I felt terrible. I had desecrated the holy day.
I remained standing respectfully, waiting to be dismissed, digesting the reprimand I had received. Then my father looked up, with a twinkle in his eye, and said, “But you did checkmate him, didn’t you?”
“Twice,” I said, softly but happily.
My father returned to his sefer, and after a few moments smiled. “Geh gezunterheit.”

There was none of the ויסרו אותו rebuke of the בן סורר ומורה. There were no lashes, there was no courtroom drama, no apologies were demanded. The father said as much as he needed to say, and then, in an act of צמצום, he withdrew himself and his disapproval from the scene and allowed his son to re-establish his self-esteem.

Regarding this story, and the overall lesson of צמצום, I echo the words of the gemara and Rav Shlomo Eidels for all parents: דרוש וקבל שכר, Learn it, and you will receive reward.

-
Notes:
1. The comment from Rav Shlomo Eidels is in Maharsha, Chiddushei Aggadot to Sanhedrin 71a. The Hebrew I quote from Maharsha is what I believe to be the correct text. The one printed in the Vilna shas has מכפה instead of מחפה, but is clearly a mistake by a sofer thinking of יכפה אף.

2. Many are bothered by the point I raise, that the parents of the בן סורר ומורה did, in fact, rebuke him. This leads them to analyze the Torah's text and find hints at why their rebuke was inadequate - such as the idea that the parents did not rebuke with the same voice.

3. "Just say no" is an incomplete approach. In his book, Positive Parenting (pg 307), Rabbi Dr. Twerski points out that in the early days of the “Just say no” campaign, research psychologists looked at kids’ responses to this approach, and were surprised to find 13 and 14 year-old kids responding, “Why? What else is there?”

4. The fictional story of Notti is on pages 65-66 in Positive Parenting; the chess story is on page 236.