Honoring Parents Forever

Parshat Kedoshim 

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

Chapter 20 verse 9 contains a mitzvah that seems to be a repeat from Shmot 21:17 that addresses the punishment to be placed upon one who curses one’s parents.

The various Midrashic comments on the verse in Shmot note that our verse in Kedoshim serves to clarify some of the nuances of the law, such as that a person is in violation of the law not only on the occasion of cursing both parents (which seems to be the implication in Shmot), but even if one curses one or the other. Another clarification from our parsha is in the death penalty that is included in the verse: stoning. [An understanding of Biblical death sentences is beyond the scope of this discussion.]

The Midrash and some commentaries – in both verses – note that the prohibition is only on cursing one’s parents, but not on cursing one’s grandparents. Of course, one might suggest that the reason the prohibition doesn’t extend that far is because a person would never have the need to curse one’s grandparents.

Of course, a person should never have the need to curse one’s parents, but we are all familiar with circumstances that have unfortunately ruined a relationship between parent and child.

In my school years, I was acquainted with some kids whose parents had either been through a very difficult divorce, and one case in which the father still hadn’t given the mother a get after many years of separation. These young men I knew had zero respect for their father, and were probably in violation of this mitzvah – for understandable reasons.

Hopefully people can be given the strength to never bring their relationship with their children to this point – because the parent is then in violation of a different mitzvah from our parsha – 19:14 “Do not put a stumbling block before the blind.”

How far does the prohibition extend?

Rashi on the verse notes that one may not curse one’s parents even after their deaths. The Torah Temimah explains that a curse causes damage to the soul.

Your own age does not matter, notes Targum Yonatan, as you may NEVER curse your parents, even when you are old.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch adds that “even in their deaths, the influence of the parent never ceases.”

It is this last point that may give the most insight into this mitzvah. Why it is presented in the negative is perhaps meant to strike home how important the respect for the parent must be. Despite any negativity one must have experienced in life. Your parents brought you into this world, you owe them the respect that comes from their simply having given you the gift of life.

I have met a few people – in the last few weeks alone – who have suffered the lost of a parent. One had a not-so-positive relationship with the parent. One was so-upset at the parent’s early death. I know of circumstances in which the parent took his own life, leaving behind a shattered family and a tremendous amount of pain. In all cases, the shiva was sat, the kaddish was nonetheless recited, and the act of mourning was certainly carried out publicly. What goes on in private is not my business.

And so there is a mix of emotions which accompany the circumstances that might bring about a feeling that “the parent deserves a curse.”

On the other hand, the inverse message is probably true as well. And that is that if a person honors (Shmot 20:12) and cherishes one’s parents, and reveres one’s parents (Our parsha – 19:3), that a blessing is heaped upon the individual. The Torah promises long life in the Ten Commandments – and certainly that would be a blessing.

But it goes further – because the need to honor one’s parents goes beyond the grave. Not just in the respectful funeral and beautiful matzevah (grave stone), but in talking about the parents, thinking about the parents, quoting the parents, remembering the parents, honoring parents becomes about so much more than bringing in a little schnapps to shul on a yarzeit. It becomes about how we promulgate legacies; how the grandchildren and great grandchildren that carry the names of the deceased are taught about their forebears and encouraged and trained to keep their legacies alive.

Those of us who are blessed to have parents (and they should all be blessed with long, healthy and happy lives!) must do our best to honor and appreciate them in their lives.

Those who are on the other side, whose parents are deceased, can do much more than remember parents on yarzeits, but can honor their memories every day of the year. We can learn, give tzedakah, do mitzvos, and continue to support Jewish causes in their names. This will promulgate their continued impact in our lives.

Partners in Creation (and Infertility)

For those who struggle with infertility, the battle is one which is often waged in private, with very little support from family or friends, unless a choice is made to share the information. I don't think it is anyone's place to impose their advice or opinions (or to say such insensitive things like "So when are you guys going to have a baby?"), unless said advice or opinions are sought by those who struggle. While I certainly don't have answers beyond doing research, preparing the body with the proper nutrition and vitamins, and seeking out the best medical help possible, here is a religious approach that suggests there is more to what meets the eye than medical charts. 

Parshat Tazria

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 Last week I quoted the Midrash Aggadah on “Yom HaShmini” who raised the possibility that one of the interpretations of Kohelet 11:2 which speaks of seven becoming eight, is that of Rabbi Yehuda bar Simone who said that "Seven" refers to the days of the Niddah period. If the laws of Niddah are followed (7), the Midrash suggests in the name of God, a child will be born who will be circumcised on the 8th day.

 Sounds like a pretty good guarantee.

 In another passage in the Midrash Aggadah on our parsha, we are reminded of how there are three partners in the creation of a human being: the father, the mother and God. This notion comes from the Talmud (Kiddushin 30b, Niddah 31a), and many homiletical teachings emerge from it.

 But perhaps the most profound thought, certainly one that crosses the mind of God-fearing parents when their children are born, is how clearly one can understand that God is in this world when one observes a newborn.

 Of course the initial passage above is a nice thought. But there are plenty of people who observe these laws meticulously and still struggle with infertility (as well as those who don't follow them, who have no problems). If only such a guarantee came with a warranty.

 Alas, as everyone knows, it’s not always so simple.

 In his Toldot Yitzchak, Rabbi Yitzchak Caro utilized a Talmudic teaching to explain how an expectant parent must pray for the fertilization to take root in the first three days, from day 3 to day 40 pray for a male child, from day 40 to the end of the first trimester pray that it shouldn’t be a miscarriage, from 3 months to 6 months pray that it should not be a stillborn, from 6 months pray that it should be born in peace.

 If so, he concludes, it seems that the health of the child and success of the pregnancy is dependent on prayer much more than on nature.

 With regard to the praying for a “male” child – well, this passage is on the segment that says “When a woman conceives and gives birth to a male.” (For those who like “The Godfather,” think of the blessing Luca Brasi gave Don Corleone at the Godfather’s daughter’s wedding.) [Of course there are people who "want" to have a boy. There are also people who "want" to have a girl. Most people are happy to have a child and gender does not matter.]

 Otherwise, the passage speaks for itself about prayer’s role in all of this.

 When I was in his class, Rabbi Moshe Tendler would often tell us that there are so many possible genetic mutations that could take place in the development of a fetus, it is a miracle that anyone is born without some kind of problem. Baruch Hashem.

In our world of science and rationalism, we tend to aim to find explanations for why things go right, and even moreso for when things go wrong.

 But maybe, just maybe, we don’t have all the answers because some causes and cases go beyond the realm of the natural world. An unhealthy woman gives birth to a completely healthy and normal baby. A healthy woman can’t carry a baby to term. What’s wrong with this picture?

 I don’t have the answers. But the Toldot Yitzchak did offer a suggestion, which I believe is only highlighted due to Rabbi Tendler’s insight about genetics. There is a need for prayer that goes far beyond our understanding, and enters the realm of the cosmos in terms of where it sits, lies and waits, and then returns to influence the world.

 Are following the laws of Niddah and committing to prayer guarantees that a child will be born, and in good health? Of course not. But as the old Jewish joke goes: a performer in a live show has a heart attack and dies on stage. As the stage manager comes out to give mouth-to-mouth, a woman in the audience yells out “Give him an enema! Give him an enema!” She is told, “This man is dead. An enema won’t help.” “Well, it wouldn’t hurt!”

While the punchline of the joke, "It can't hurt" is more than likely true with respect to prayer and Niddah observance, the other side of it, "That maybe it can really help" is certainly not worth dropping at the wayside.

 Let those who are struggling to have that child find fulfillment in a more dedicated commitment to the laws of Niddah and to prayer. Especially praying for someone else who has similar needs . Who knows? Maybe sooner than later, prayers will be answered.

 Amen. May it only be so for all of us.

Bringing the Children Along

This was written the week after the horrific shooting at an elementary school in Newtown, CT in 12/2012, in which 26 people, 20 of whom were children, were killed by a _______ (not sure how to describe this 'person.') The loss is too difficult to comprehend, and the vacuum in all of our hearts is sucking at air because we all feel the pain of those mourning for the children with whom they will never have the opportunity to "bring them along" any more.

Parshat Vayigash

by Rabbi Avi Billet

A not-too-farfetched reading of the end of Chapter 45 can indicate that only one person intended to go down to Egypt to stay there.  "… And bread and foot for his father for the journey" (45:23). "He saw the wagons Yosef had sent to carry him…" (45:27) "Israel said, 'My son Yosef still lives: I will go and I will see him before I die.'" (45:28)

It is particularly poignant that Yaakov/Yisrael was the only one excited about the journey. He travels "with all that was his" to Beer Shava, where he brought sacrifices. (46:1) God promises to go down with him (specifically), and that He will take Yaakov up from Egypt. (46:3-4) Yaakov's sons then make sure their wives and children are on the wagons that were sent "to carry him." (46:5).

The final indicators are in verses 6-7, when we see "They took their cattle and their possessions to come to Egypt: Yaakov and all his children with him." This is followed by "His sons, grandsons, daughters and granddaughters and all of his children – he brought with him to Egypt."

Every pronoun is in the singular – about Yaakov.

Why did they not bring all of their belongings in 46:1? Why does it emphasize twice (in 46:6-7) that all his children were with him – first in the general sense, and then in the more specific – before listing them individually? Wouldn't once be sufficient?

And why does it say "He brought them with him to Egypt?" Why did he have to bring them? Did they not go of their own accord?

The Or HaChaim explains that they were only going in order to accompany their father, and had no intention of staying in Egypt. But after the prophesy in Beer Shava, they realized they were meant to go and stay there as well. Which is why they willingly and deliberately put their children on the wagons: if you're going to go, you may as well go in style.

The Malbim further notes that the zodiac indicated there would eventually be enslavement, but that they  (Yaakov's sons) would not personally be enslaved. For the shvatim (the individual tribes) themselves, there was nothing to worry about. But their children, destined to be the first ones enslaved, exhibited hesitation. This is why Yaakov needed to "bring them." Would you want to be dragged along for Grandpa's joyride if he will die soon, leaving you to be enslaved? Didn't think so.

Or HaChaim applies the same thought process to some of the Shvatim themselves – that they too didn't want to go, but needed Yaakov to drag them against their will.

Being dragged along for the ride of someone else's destiny is never easy. When adults get jobs that cause them to move, and their children are uprooted from the system and friendship circle they know so well, it can be traumatic. Those who make aliyah to Israel are sometimes faced with this challenge with their children, especially with kids who were a little older by the time they make the move.

While any move nowadays is hardly comparable to the destiny of being enslaved for a few generations, the natural hesitation, fears, or just plain ambivalence that comes with the prospects of the move are real challenges that aren't easily overcome.

The same is true of certain aspects of how we live. Some schools and parents are quite successful in inculcating a regimen of halakhic observance in their students and children.

Fathers who go to shul bring their kids to shul. Mothers who make prayer a fixture of their lives teach their children that prayer is important to us.

We teach our sons to wear tzitzis, even though the extra garment might not be preferred. We learn Torah in the home, even though a computer game or a toy or a book is more appealing right now.

At the shabbos meal, the kids are present for the zemiros and the bentching. In fact, children learn to say their brachos before and after they eat, even though it isn't "natural" to remember God all the time.

Children are given the opportunity to give tzedakah, to deduct a portion of their allowance. They see their parents write donation checks and understand that we do not keep for ourselves all the money we earn. There are people who are more needy.

If we volunteer at a soup kitchen, we bring our children along, when appropriate.

The fact is, while they are under our protective wings and care, our children share in our destiny – whether they like it or not. We don't have the same opportunity that Yaakov's descendants had, to have an inkling of what the future will bring. But we must bring our children along for the ride, because without proper Jewish living in the present, there will not be a Jewish future.

Honor and Reverence

Parshat Kedoshim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In the listing of ingredients for the proper pursuit of holiness, the Torah puts reverence of one's parents and the observance of the Sabbath at the forefront, on just about equal footing.


Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch clarifies that the term used in the Torah "Imo v'aviv tira'u," which is often translated as "fear your parents," is better understood as an instruction to "be mindful of our parents and of our obligation to fulfill their wishes."

More importantly, Hirsch says, it is not "the good that parents do for their children, but the mission given to the parents concerning their children that is the basis of the mitzvah of honoring one's parents."

As to why observance of the Sabbath is attached so closely to the commandment to fulfill the wishes of the parents, Hirsch explains, "A child who sees his parents observing the Sabbath will learn from their example to place his world at G-d's feet; obedience to parents leads to obedience to G-d."

In a larger sense, the mitzvah of reverence for the parents should be an easy one to fulfill. If I owe everything, life itself, to my parents, I should logically want to repay the kindness and fulfill their every wish.

But Hirsch twists the idea on its head. It's not just about the fact that parents bring children into the world. Their responsibilities to their children do not end there. It is they who are to mold and shape and guide their children, so that their children will understand the role their parents play in raising them not only as ethical human beings but as incredible Jews.

This reverence of parents, then, is merely a reflection of the reverence of G-d that the parents demonstrate and display to their children on a daily basis.

Whenever I try to talk to younger children about G-d, I always use their parents as the example. "When you want something and you ask your parents for it, do they always give it to you? Or do they sometimes say 'No?'"

What's fascinating is that the Sabbath and honoring one's parents share similar billing in the Decalogue, and both appear there with a different action word. We are told in Shmot 20 to "Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy," and to "Honor your parents."

In his book "Or HaDeah," Hassidic Rabbi Uri Langer suggests that just as Shamor and Zachor were said in one saying with regard to the Sabbath (Rosh Hashana 27), Kavod and Yirah – Honoring and Revering were said in one saying with regard to how one is to relate to one's parents.

It is easy to honor one's parents when they are gone – to say kaddish, to commemorate a yahrzeit, to say the kel malei rachamim, to speak of them in a respectful way. On equal footing is the obligation to revere them – to listen and to fulfill their will - when they are alive. One reveres one's parents through following their ways.

In the end, the responsibility is two directional. The child has to follow the ways of the parent, but the parent must make the life choices and commitments to be admired by and desirable to the child.

It is no one else's responsibility. Not the school, not the shul, not the rabbi, not one's friend, not even one's own parents (the children's grandparents). It is my responsibility. It is your responsibility. The honor is earned through bringing the children into the world. We will all surely be honored once we're gone.

But the reverence is what we really aspire to, and truly want from and for our children – to follow the path we have chosen and to want with all their hearts and souls to carry it to the next generation.

Maybe observance of the Sabbath is a good first ingredient to achieving the reverence. But even observance of the Sabbath requires a lot more than "not violating the law." We must make Shabbos a day of holiness of beauty and the beginnings of a family bond that creates reverence of the holy day and reverence of G-d.

Through this first ingredient, may those of us who are parents merit to enjoy the honor and reverence we receive as we model it for our children through our own honor and reverence for G-d.

Looking Out For Father

Parshat Vayigash
by Rabbi Avi Billet

When Tzafnat Pane'ach reveals his true identity to his brothers, he says "I am Yosef. Is my father still alive?" (45:3)

Speechless, the brothers say nothing, forcing Yosef to say, "I am Yosef your brother whom you sold to Egypt." He recognizes that all was part of God's master plan, and makes clear he will not take revenge against them in any way.

Why is Yosef's first question "Is my father still alive?" From all the talk that has transpired between Yosef and the brothers, it seems to be beyond question that Yaakov is still alive.

While some (Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch and others) suggest Yosef revealed himself at this moment to determine if the brothers were lying – had they been using their father as a tool for a sympathy vote? –