The Call of This Time – Educate for Personal Strength

Elevating our children. Finding their positive, unique strengths. Valuing their importance. All these ideals we have been discussing will not develop in a vacuum. They require the proper environment, a culture which cultivates and fosters these endeavors. Let us contemplate: What are the necessary components for building such a society? What can we do to better our environments in this regard?

The Torah writes, vayishkan Yisroel betach badad ein Yaakov, and Yisroel rested securely, alone, like Yaakov. Rashi explains that the Yidden were widely scattered, ish tachas gafno v’tachas te’einoso, each one “under their own grapevine and fig tree.” Klal Yisroel was not gathered and settled closely together. Nevertheless, they were secure, safe from their enemies, without relying on the strength of numbers. 

It is axiomatic that descriptions in the Torah of practical matters, such as wars and battles, are meant primarily as guides in our spiritual struggles. Thus, Rashi is cautioning us against relying on the strength of the group, on being part of a community. Rather, we must develop an inner strength, as individuals, and in this way, we can be secure in who we are. If we examine the prevalent rubric that governs our social structures, we will find this to be an area that sorely needs our attention. 

These days, we have created powerfully insular communities. We erected walls around us, protecting ourselves from the rampant violence and promiscuity found outside them.  There are cracks in the walls, to be sure, and struggling individuals are at risk of falling through these cracks. However, our efforts have been largely successful, sheltering us from the pernicious influence of the outside world. As a result, we come to view the Yeshiva, the organization, the mass asifos – all the various manifestations of our togetherness – as representative of our fortitude, the bulwark of our defenses for all the values we hold so dear. 

Yet this very achievement is a double-edged sword. In emphasizing the community’s role in our lives, we risk downplaying the importance of the individual. Our children might come to identify themselves mainly as members of the various groups or institutions they are affiliated with. In such a system, public perception can become a chief means of deciding a proper course of action. True, this can be a positive force, keeping us on the straight and narrow. However, when we need the strength to stand up against a communal shortcoming, or when we need to stand strong in our own convictions, trusting our own moral compass to withstand a private assault on our standards; in these cases, the communal force will fall far short of our expectations.

We must extend greater efforts developing the midah of badad. I know what is right, and I have the power to remain true to my values. I rely on a bedrock of personal commitment that supports me from within, even when I stand alone, without the emotional support of being one of the crowd.

However, stressing the value of individuality can lead to a dangerous misconception. If we take this concept too far, we might reject the value of the community altogether, and overly focus on our own self. Such self-absorbed characters will proudly proclaim, “I do what’s right for me, and others are not my concern.” This, too, is an unhealthy extreme. We are certainly not advocating becoming isolated from the community and living in a personal bubble.

Here, again, Rashi guides us to finding the right balance in our approach. The pasuk elaborates on the concept of badad, describing it as ein Yaakov. Rashi explains that the midah of badad does not encourage seclusion. Rather, we should be alone in the way Yaakov Avinu blessed us, as he told us, v’heishiv eschem el eretz avoseichem, we are meant to return, together, to our ancestral homeland. Although this pasuk seems to refer to being involved in a collective effort, Rashi understands it as modifying the simple meaning of badad, and connecting the private and public spheres.

We are not meant to be isolationists, pursuing our individual goals without regard to our surroundings. We must always bear in mind the bigger picture, realizing that we are part of a larger concept. In Rashi’s example, everyone rests tachas gafno v’tachas te’einoso, each person occupied with cultivating his particular cheilek of Eretz Yisroel. However, he does this as a part of the tzibbur, all of whom, through their individual efforts, are collectively accomplishing the settling and developing of Eretz Yisroel. In a similar vein, every Yid has his own tasks to perform, pursuing the particulars of his personal avodah. However, we do so as a member of Klal Yisroel, comprised of many like-minded individuals, all united in pursuing the same goals, albeit in their own, individual ways. 

We must find ways to impart this message to our children. Our education must promote the attitude and understanding that they are important as individuals. This means that they can develop a personal commitment, an individual connection to our values that they can rely on without resorting to communal perception. 

To do so, we must be forthcoming in acknowledging our current deficiencies in this area. How do we relate to our children? What is the yardstick we use to measure their success? Let us be honest – by and large, it is the extent to which they conform and succeed in Yeshiva, to which they perform according to a predetermined standard we have set for them. 

Your child sits by your Shabbos table, and you have a priceless opportunity to connect to him. What do you do? You take a sheet with a list of questions supplied by the Rebbi or Morah, and you drill him on how well he knows this list of yedios, how well he listened in class. The individual in this illustration is simply non-existent. 

You ask your child to set the table for Shabbos. He does so eagerly, yet you come and inspect the table with a frown. “No, no,” you exclaim. “The spoon goes on the other side of the plate!” The child’s performance is measured solely on how well he matches up to the arbitrary standards of proper table-setting etiquette.  

We must elevate our child as an individual. We must make sure he understands and believes – what you think is important, I value your ideas, your way of doing things. Perhaps you can pose an interesting question at the Shabbos seudah, and then encourage your child to offer an opinion, and express genuine interest in his response. Similarly, you can value his involvement in Shabbos preparations for what he has to offer, for the role he plays, whether the table fits your vision of perfection or not. 

With this understanding, we can appreciate that elevating the child’s perspective in no way undermines our own role in their chinuch, because we are there to help them connect their individuality to the bigger picture. We must help them shape and form their ideas and guide them to find their place in the bigger picture, as part of the tzibbur.