We are going to discuss the ideas and values that we can teach through example. First, however, let's examine how "priming the lines of communication" can fill the first requirement of any lesson: getting the kid's attention.
B: There was a time, Rabbi E.E. Dessler zt"l wrote in a letter to a student, when psychologists believed that physical punishment in education was counter-productive. It taught a child to be violent (by giving him a violent example). This concern, wrote Rabbi Dessler, came from their belief that there existed an overriding need to build up a child's self-confidence (which in moderaton, of course, is essential). How was a "modern" parent to boost self-confidence? By becoming less of a parent and more a friend.
And this was their mistake: a parent who acts as a close friend - an equal - to his child, loses the right to strike, or even to direct his life in any meaningful way. Any attempt to interfere could well be viewed as an unprovoked insult, liable to draw a like response.
However, if the family relationship is that of a father (or mother) to a son (or daughter), with all the respect and "distance" that presupposes, then a child would never dream of rebelling in the face of reasonable punishment. Punishment delivered in such an atmosphere will carry no lessons of violence.
The success of a parent in communicating with his children hinges largely on a fine balance. Warmth and love are the hallmarks of the Jewish home, yet they must be offset by a tangible presence of awe and respect. To a certain extent - and more so with fathers - over-familiarity should be limited. When there is a natural "distance" between parent and child, parents are more likely to be looked up to for guidance.
C: King Solomon wrote: "The words of sages are heard when (spoken in) calm." The wisest of men taught us that emotionally-charged shouting does not penetrate to the heart as well as words calmly chosen and presented. In fact, if we fail to restrain ourselves, our children may well learn a lesson from us and imitate the style rather than the content of our speech!
This is echoed in the Rambam's "recipe" for rebuke: "You should speak (to the sinner) gently, (using) soft speech and you should let it be known to him that (the rebuke) is for his benefit..."
D: Punishment, perhaps a parent's most effective tool of communication, is also potentially the most destructive. It will be discussed in detail in a later chapter.
In this vein, Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe wrote that "there is no greater incentive for self-perfection than (the prospect of) child raising." Often without realizing it, parents are teaching their children as much as twenty-four hours a day. And their "classes" are more influential and practical than those of the greatest professors, since parents are a child's most prominent and accessible role models. A child, however, finds it as easy (if not easier) to pick up what we don't want him to, as that which we do. Therefore, the only way to ensure that our children will learn only good things from us is to become perfect ourselves. Or, as an alternative, give up the unreasonable expectations we have for them. After all, we're their best example.
THE MESSAGE:
Each time a parent does a mitzvah, there is the potential either to draw his child closer to avodas HaShem, or to lead him away. We must be aware that we are constantly "on stage" and our audience - our children - will develop their attitudes toward mitzvah-observance based on our performance.
"Looking at mitzvos"
Rabbi Moshe Feinstein described how one mitzvah can be kept two ways, each inspiring an opposite reaction. Some people, he wrote, observe Shabbos at great personal sacrifice. "How difficult it is to be Jewish," some of them sigh. These parents are showing their children how much was sacrificed to remain loyal to the Torah: "There would be much to be gained by ignoring its laws...but still, Shabbos is worth keeping." Seeing this, Rabbi Feinstein observed, a child may conclude that "it's nice, but I'm not cut out for this level of sacrifice." From there it's a short step to chillul Shabbos.
On the other hand, a father could inject into his "presentation" the feeling that not only is Shabbos worth the sacrifice, but it's worth much more (in reality, there's no sacrifice: God decrees each individual's wealth, and even if some amount of effort is required to earn it, a Jew could never be expected to work for it on Shabbos or Yom Tov. Therefore, Shabbos-work wouldn't help anyway). Expressing such an attitude sends an entirely different message, one much harder to reject.
There are families where Shabbos is eagerly anticipated and joyously kept; where each new opportunity to perform a mitzvah is welcomed with smiles and open arms and where the price tag is ignored. It is such a family that stands to pass on the whole spirit and content of the Torah to its next generation. It is children of such a family who will continue to be found around the old dining room table long after they have built their own.
"Honoring whose parents?"
More often than not, we receive less respect from our children than we would like. Perhaps part of the blame could be placed at our own feet: for how good an example is our observance of the mitzvah of Kivud Av Vo'aim? We are, after all, the sons and daughters of our own parents. How do we relate to them (or their memories) in front of our children? Do we show them every measure of the consideration that we demand for ourselves? It's as predictable as wine stains on a Pesach tablecloth that children will pick up their parent's actions quicker than their ideals.
"Not in front of the kids"
We are all aware of the restrictions the laws of loshon horah (slander) place on our speech. Many people are also aware that there are individuals and groups at the fringe of religious society about whom the full extent of these laws don't apply. However, one should try to shield his children from negative speech even about those of whom it is actually permitted. Loshon horah of any type can be habit forming.
Arguments, according to the Menoros Hamaor, are also best avoided near children (even to protect the honor of the Torah), not only for fear that a child will learn to enjoy them, but also because of the hurt and insecurity he can experience seeing a parent involved in a fight.
A Rav once bemoaned the state of disuse into which the phrase "not in front of the kids" had fallen. There was a time, he said, when a ten-year-old could justifiably be called "innocent." Today, is there a fifth-grader who doesn't know all the shul politics, the maneuverings on the board of the local yeshivah and which rebbe is about to be fired? Seeing someone so young, yet so battle-worn and cynical, leads one to wonder what happened to the sweet, good Jewish child of years gone by. Might this not have started at home, at the Shabbos table, with parents who lacked the moral fiber to say; "not in front of the kids?"
"With and without thought"
Rabbi Dessler was once in the home of a young couple when their child fell, bumping his head on the corner of a bed. The parent's first response was to jokingly tell the child to "hit the bed back." Immediately, Rabbi Dessler stopped them, saying "you'll teach him to be vengeful." It's never too early to educate children in good character traits.
HONESTY:
"Then don't threaten so often and you won't have to..."
Besides the actual "lesson" we teach when we are inconsistent, we make the job of raising our children much more difficult. The power of warnings is weakened by their misuse. Punishment - and its threat - is a valuable weapon in a parent's arsenal. Used correctly, a threat, or even the hint of one, could quickly bring a troublesome child back into line. It is only when we misuse warnings that they are ineffective. The most common mistake - and the easiest to make - is failure to back words with action. Once a child sees his parents ignore his failure to respond to even one warning, the whole system of communications begins to break down.
Failure to deliver a promised reward carries with it similar dangers - besides promoting a painful lack of trust in those who should be the most reliable. The easiest people to hurt are children. To deny them something for which they have looked forward - even something as small as a hug - can dig into their hearts like a knife. Therefore, great care must be taken to limit, as much as possible, promises and threats (to maintain their effectiveness) and if reward or punishment has been earned, to deliver it immediately and in full.
Dishonesty in business and personal affairs cannot but cheapen all the lessons that might otherwise reach a child. We've all heard the story of the father who rebuked his son for his dishonesty - minutes before avoiding a bothersome phone call with the words "Tell him I'm not in..."
"IN THE HOME..."
The Rambam says it very clearly: no one can avoid being influenced by his surroundings. To ensure that a child has the proper environment within which to grow as a Jew, parents must build a house to double as a fortress; a zone free of spiritual pollution.
It is a reflection of the power of outside influences that the first public institution for teaching adolescents was established in Jerusalem. Why there? Because "out of Zion shall come Torah, and the word of God from Jerusalem." Tosafos explains that a student who "sees the great holiness and the kohanim working at their divine service will concentrate his heart better to fear heaven and will learn Torah." How much more careful must we be to remove from a child's path things that could actually prevent his growth.
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Everything a child sees at home with the permission of his parents has their implicit approval. We must ensure that what comes in meets our standards.
"...AND IN THE HEART"
Finally, the enthusiasm with which our informal chinuch-lessons are (or aren't) presented, can be a barometer of their eventual success. A student of an American yeshivah was once sent on a fundraising trip to North Carolina (or thereabout). After he was admitted to one home, the young man related, he watched the owner race upstairs, wake his children, bring them down and stand them in front of the student, saying: "If you grow up the way I want you to, you'll eventually be like him!"
Although they lived far from a major Jewish center and the strong religious identification that goes with one, I doubt there would be much ambiguity in the home of someone whose ideals are so clear and method of teaching them so straightforward.