Let us imagine someone who sets himself a goal, surely a worthwhile endeavor. He wants to complete a task, to achieve an objective, to reach a certain destination. First, he decides on the necessary steps that will bring about the desired outcome. He then considers his shortcomings, and even equips himself with the tools he might need to overcome the obstacles that will surely come his way.
If we are discussing an attempt at career advancement, or attaining secular knowledge, this makes perfect sense. After all, he has not yet reached his goal; until he receives his degree, he is not yet a doctor. He is occupied with something that is still beyond him, and so he develops the skills, the resilience, whatever he needs to help him reach his goal. But his entire focus is on something not yet in his grasp. Therefore, when he faces a struggle, it is not inherently meaningful; he does not really care about his present situation. He is grappling with the future consequences of his possible failure, and that is the only thing important to him.
The process of Torah education is completely different. We are not preoccupied with the future, trying to reach some point outside of ourselves. Our efforts are not directed at becoming, at eventual success. Rather, we are metzuva v’oseh, we have a clear, immediate obligation. We are fully occupied in the present, dealing with whatever mitzva is at hand. There can be nothing more meaningful, literally earth-shattering in its cosmic significance, than the performance of a mitzva. My purpose is not the consequence of my action, I am not merely clearing obstacles out of my path. The struggle itself is of importance, as I am occupied with successfully performing this specific action. The everyday situations I face, the minutiae of regular life that make up the very fabric of the world I live in – these are not just steppingstones to some future goal. My life, in the present moment, has real, intrinsic value.
In general, this is a much healthier approach to our personal development. There is no unnecessary burden, no overwhelming pressure that one’s future depends on his present success or failure. One simply deals with his current obligation to the best of his ability.
According to this understanding, we must reevaluate our approach towards education. Certainly, we need to teach our children to perform mitzvos properly, and we need to give them the practical guidance and encouragement to perform the technical aspects of the mitzva properly. However, if we are completely focused on the external performance, on doing the actions properly, we will find ourselves, once again, caught up in a future-oriented mindset. No matter where we stand, our present performance is bound to be deficient; we have not yet achieved the level we strive towards. If we are focused on the actions themselves, we are always occupied with improving our performance, towards the goal of eventually attaining a more satisfactory experience.
This is not Jewish education. We are not only involved in the externals; we also seek to involve the lev, the heart, by developing our connection to a mitzva. It is difficult to develop an emotional connection to some abstract, future endpoint.Therefore, this will always remain an effort based in the here and now, firmly grounded in the reality of the present.
R’ Yisroel Salanter (Ohr Yisroel 30) elaborates on the nature of this connection. When dealing with our youth, he writes, the primary approach towards avodas Hashem needs to be with simcha.
What does simcha mean? What makes someone happy to be involved in avodas Hashem? When the individual relates to what he is doing, when he feels a personal connection to his work, he will feel happy and fulfilled with the performance of the mitzva. Now, this does not mean that he should be happy while performing the mitzva, perhaps due to some extrinsic motivation. Rather, he is satisfied and fulfilled to be doing the right thing. It sits right with him; it is an apt and fitting undertaking at his stage, at his own level.
It is only possible to feel this simcha if we are connected to what we are doing. And if we are looking to connect our children to a mitzva, then the focus will not necessarily be on the details of the action. It will be on what is before the child right now, what is relevant to the child.
We know rachmana leeba ba’ee, Hashem wants our heart to be involved in our work. The heart represents the centrality of a person, the ideas that are central to his life, to his very being. Therefore, to develop this connection, we must delve deeper into the mitzvos, and ask ourselves: What does Hashem really want from us? Each mitzva contains unique ways to impact our lives and connect us to Him. We must find a way, as an individual, to develop an affinity with each mitzva.
Let us briefly lay out some possible steps towards approaching mitzvos in this way, and then attempt to concretize these ideas with a practical example.
We are seeking to develop an inner connection to a mitzva. However, a young child might not have the appreciation for a certain topic. Sometimes, education might begin by abstaining. Instead of engaging in the mitzva in a superficial way, we hold back, and do not yet involve the child. In this way, we avoid giving him a wrong impression of the mitzva. At the same time, we impress upon him the seriousness of the endeavor, that he must wait to begin until he is ready to deal with it properly.
We can then begin to give him an appreciation for the concept. If we have delved into the mitzva and found a point of connection, we can attempt to transmit this message to our child. We build it up slowly, step by step, and he will gradually relate to the concept with its proper importance.
Finally, we are ready to educate them to perform the mitzva. Instead of implementing this arbitrarily, we should find a place where this topic is relevant to them, where it speaks to their heart, where they find it practical and meaningful.
As a practical example, let us examine how one can educate their child for tefilla. Many of us can relate to the struggle of getting a young child to join us for some meaningful davening time. First and foremost, it must be clear that we are not merely aiming for the child to stand in his place and say the words obediently, like a well-programmed robot. Davening is about developing a close connection to Hashem, relating to devarim ha’omdim b’rumo shel olam, matters that are way, way above us, and our education should reflect this understanding.
If your child is not yet ready to daven properly, leave him at home. We do not want to teach him that the shul is a playground. We are looking to develop a connection to davening, and he is too young to appreciate that. Therefore, the first step is for him to view a shul properly, as a makom mechubad, a place that demands a certain decorum. Thus, the first step in chinuch towards davening might entail not allowing him to join you yet!
We now ask ourselves – what is the connection to davening I am looking to instill in my child? Perhaps it is emuna, a strong conviction in how Hashem is involved in my daily life. We can begin to develop this awareness in our child by sharing ideas and stories at the Shabbos table.
Finally, we are ready to educate the child for actual tefilla. Since we want the child to connect, to enjoy, to perform the mitzva with simcha, we might try to add some geshmak to their experience, whether this means some nosh, spirited singing, or a tempting kiddush.
However, we explained earlier that R’ Yisroel is referring to connecting to the mitzva itself, to develop an intrinsic connection to tefilla. While incentives are helpful, and they have their time, they should not take the place of educating towards real connection to tefilla.
Instead, we must try to find an area where the child will understand the role davening can play in his life. For example, children often go through a stage when they have frequent nightmares. When this happens, we can encourage them to repeat hamapil. For many children, this can have a calming effect. We have thus educated them to speak to Hashem at a time of need, and that He responds to our requests.
On the other hand, certain children are more intellectual, and will not easily buy in. In this case, you have an opportunity to discuss the topic with them. Explain to them that when we have a problem, we can always turn to Hashem, and how this can have a positive effect on our lives. In this manner, we are educating for tefilla, without a siddur or any formal prayers.
When we reach a further stage, and the child is joining us for ‘real’ davening in shul, we can show them a few pages, an amount they can be reasonably expected to say with kavana. However, we should not choose a section just because there is a greater halachic obligation. We should find a part of davening they can relate to, they will feel a connection to, something relevant to their personal lives.
This is how we should guide and educate our children for mitzvos. He is faced with an obligation in the present moment, but we do not need to focus on the external action. We can work to develop their connection, staying firmly in the present, according to his current emotional state.
There is yet another component to developing the lev, the inner connection to a mitzva. Tena beni libcha li, give your heart to me (Mishlei 23:26). Circumstances can sometimes require us to sacrifice, to prioritize, to give up something important for a mitzva. If we simply demand this from our children, it can easily stir up feelings of rebellion. But there is a better way.
We know that the Avos were singled out by Hashem because of their nisyonos, how they withstood various tests He set for them. The Gra explains that Avrohom Avinu spent his lifetime developing his mida of chesed, kindness and giving. Therefore, Hashem tested him by asking him to perform the akeida, to sacrifice his only son, an action that went against his most basic nature. By performing this mitzva, Avrohom demonstrated that his chesed was not merely a product of his natural compassion, but an expression of his avodas Hashem. When he was asked to, he was able to engage in the completely opposite behavior.
We find the same idea by Yaakov Avinu. He exemplifies the mida of emes, of truth. He was challenged to raise his family in the home of Lavan, the greatest swindler ever, and retain his integrity.
We can therefore ask the question: Where do we find a similar test for Yitzchok? His defining mida was yirah. What action could Hashem possibly ask of him that could not harness the power of yiras shamayim?
Perhaps we can suggest that the act of the akeida tested Yitzchok, as well. The Torah demands v’ohavta, we should love Hashem. We can then expect v’chol nafshecha, we should stand ready to give our lives for Hashem. Only love will cause a person to give up that which is most precious to them. Yitzchok was tasked with mesiras nefesh, giving up his life for Hashem, and this was a test on his ahava, not his yirah.
Tena beni libcha li – developing our lev means giving of ourselves to Hashem. If we develop a child’s connection to a mitzva, if he feels a deep love and affinity for his avodas Hashem, he will not need any other motivation or incentive, and much of his inner conflicts will be resolved. He will naturally be happy and willing to sacrifice for what he holds dear, for his connection to the Ribono shel Olam.
