Imagine if someone came over and told you, before krias haTorah this Shabbos, that “the Aseres Hadibros that we are about to lain are very nice, but they don’t really apply today — or at least one of them doesn’t apply.” What would you answer? I would probably answer that the last time I checked, “Open Orthodoxy” is not something that we ascribe to, and neither is Conservative or Reform. Whatever the Torah and Chazal teach us is eternal and applies today just as it did when we heard it at Har Sinai.
That is why, when someone recently said something to me about the fifth commandment of the Aseres Hadibros, the mitzvah of kibbud av v’eim, it was jarring to my senses, to say the least.
Should We Throw in the Towel?
This person said, “Today, we can no longer demand kibbud av v’eim from our kids. It may turn them off…”
Now, there is one thing about which he is not wrong. We are living in a different generation than our parents, and certainly a different one than that of our grandparents and great-grandparents. The social norms of the world are very different. The concept of respect — even respect for elders — is virtually non-existent in the wider world. Therefore, teaching this concept and cultivating a generation that understands what it means to respect parents, elders, rabbeim, teachers, and mentors requires forethought and wisdom.
But that doesn’t mean it can’t be done. That doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be done and that we should just throw in the towel and say, “Okay, there goes one of the aseres hadibros…”
It is our obligation to teach kibbud av v’eim to our children and talmidim/talmidos in a way that it can be niskabel.
In fact, we have even more of an obligation to teach this vital mitzvah to our children in today’s world, because otherwise they will not learn it by osmosis, as it was learned in previous generations.
Fear of Parents, Fear of Shabbos
Rav Shamshon Raphael Hirsch explains the juxtaposition of two commandments in the posuk that states, “Ish imo v’aviv tirau v’es Shabbsosai tishmoru — Every man, your mother and father shall you revere, and My Shabbos shall you observe.”
It is a famous question: Why does the Torah write Shabbos after the commandment to fear one’s parents? The well-known answer offered by Chazal is that if a parent tells you to desecrate Shabbos, you are not permitted to listen to them.
Rav Hirsch, however, teaches another lesson. He explains that Shabbos represents yiras Shomayim. Keeping Shabbos properly can only be done if a person has yiras Shomayim. You cannot, however, expect a child to have yiras Shomayim, because yiras Shomayim is abstract. How are you afraid of someone if you don’t hear him or see him?
Thus, Hashem gave us the mitzvah of morah and kavod for our parents. Once a child achieves yirah of his parents, he can expand those feelings to also include Hashem. From Rav Hirsch we see that there was a time when one didn’t have to explain what the concept of fearing one’s parents was. It was natural. It was understood even by the simplest of people.
A Lifelong Lesson — Watching My Father Interact With His Parents
On a personal note, a large percentage of my friends did not have grandparents. Their parents survived the war and lost their parents. Therefore, these friends never had the opportunity to observe how their parents honored their own parents (i.e., the friends’ grandparents). I was zoche to have grandparents who not only survived World War II, but even survived World War I.
Until I was in my 20s, I was able to observe how my father z”l honored his parents, and it was above and beyond anything we see today. Although there was a lot of humor and familiarity, there was simultaneously tremendous kavod and morah that I saw in their daily interactions. The familiarity and humor in their interactions did not in any way infringe on the tremendous respect and deference that my father had for his parents.
I didn’t need to be taught about the parameters of this mitzvah; I was able to absorb it just by seeing it. Yes, of course, my level of kibbud av v’eim didn’t even come close to that of my parents, but we recognized and were cognizant of our place vis-à-vis our parents.
The Path to Turn Off
Today, the concept of honoring parents, elders, or, for that matter, anyone is so far removed that it is not something a child will learn from the very air that he breathes. Our children may not automatically learn how to do this mitzvah unless we teach them. Unfortunately, that is where it becomes tricky.
If we tell them, “Do this! Don’t do that! You should have seen how my father honored his father…,” it is liable to just turn them off. It won’t be accepted.
Today, the old-fashioned way of making demands and having expectations of kavod just doesn’t work. Chazal teach us that just as it is a mitzvah to rebuke someone if it will be accepted, it is also a mitzvah not to tell someone something that will not be obeyed.
If you just make demands of a child because you are the father and he is obligated to listen to you, especially if those demands are made at a time when he doesn’t want to listen, this will often backfire. Teaching respect must also be done with a tremendous amount of chein.
Not a Turn-Off
In truth, it is vital that we teach today’s children to honor and fear their parents — kibbud and morah — and not throw in the towel.
Rav Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler cites a Yerushalmi that shows the importance of teaching yirah. The Yerushalmi states, “Serve Hashem out of love, because he who loves will not hate. Serve Hashem out of fear, because he who fears does not kick back (rebel).”
From here we see that if we do not want our children to kick back and rebel, there has to be an element of yirah in a relationship.
The question, therefore, is: How do we teach this mitzvah to our children without turning them off and making them think that we are just doing this for ourselves?
Creating a Family Discussion, at a Non-Threatening Time
For example, let’s say you want to teach a child that at a Shabbos table, children should not begin to eat until the father starts to eat. Let’s say the soup is brought to the table and the father has not yet taken a spoonful of soup, when Yankele, the son, eats some soup. If Totty looks at Yankele with angry eyes and exclaims, “Yankele! You MUST wait for me to eat first!” it will not go over well. That is not chinuch.
What Totty should have done is on one weekday, on a simple Tuesday night, when everyone is sitting and shmoozing at the supper table, in an unthreatening atmosphere, somehow direct the conversation to painting such a scenario. He should then discuss it with Yankele: “Yankele, what do you think? It is kibbud av v’eim to make sure that Totty eats first before you start eating.”
If he understands on his own, that is great. If he doesn’t, an entire conversation — an entire family discussion — can ensue as to why this is kibbud av v’eim. When things are explained in a non-threatening atmosphere, they will almost always be accepted.
Another simple example: Let’s say father and children are walking home from shul. When they reach the house, they are about to enter. In truth, a child — or perhaps the oldest child — should open the door and let Totty go in first. That is kibbud av. But if the child is not taught this, he will never know.
This makes for a great discussion — not on Friday night, when you are about to walk into the house, but sometime during the week, when you can steer the conversation so that this subject comes up.
Another scenario: What does a father do when he says something and the child disagrees and retorts, “Totty, what are you talking about?” At that time, he should probably just say, “I hear what you are saying. Let’s talk about it a different time.” Then, at the right moment, perhaps a few days later, a father might have a shmooze with the son about how the Shulchan Aruch suggests one should correct his father: “Totty, perhaps you might have overlooked such-and-such,” or, “Totty, I am not sure if you noticed…”
A Different World Requires Different Tactics
The kids in today’s generation are wonderful. They are not malicious at all. The only thing is that there are some things that previous generations may have understood naturally that are not automatically understood today. The world is different, so the children are different.
Parents today need to teach with patience, not under duress, but in an unthreatening atmosphere, so that all these concepts can be readily understood and, slowly but surely, readily accepted.
This isn’t a luxury. We must teach yirah, because a yorei is not bo’et; one who fears doesn’t kick back. If we don’t teach them fear the right way, how, then, can we complain when they kick back?