Neshamos Worthy of Nisyanos

Don’t Judge Our Children Too Quickly!

Erev Rosh Hashana 5783

I have much to share with you before Rosh Hashanah, from recent tales in the rabbinate to interesting teshuvah ideas for the pulpit. The very fact that a coronation is taking place on earth —that of King Charles III—at the same time, l’havdil, as our own coronation of the One True King is amazing in and of itself.

But instead I’d like to write on a personal note this week.

For the second time, I sent a daughter off to seminary. I find that at such moments, I tumble back in time, reflecting on the child’s life from the time she was born until now, and more crucially, reviewing how I was mechanech her—and all my children. The fact that these trips to the airport take place around the Yomim Nora’im only adds fuel to my cheshbon hanefesh.

The morning after her flight, I arrived at Shevach High School in Queens, where I am zocheh to teach halachah to the twelfth grade. I learned that an expert on technology was coming to speak to the students about its dangers. The new menaheles and I began discussing this issue, which many agree is the nisayon of our time. 

These two moments forced me to consider the fact that perhaps I have been going about this issue in my professional and familial life in a way that could use improvement.

Such a reckoning applies not only to this particular challenge, and not only to teenagers, but to all of us during this period of din.

In 1987, Bob Greene, who wrote a column for the Chicago Tribune that was syndicated in over 200 newspapers, asserted that it was an urban legend that soldiers returning from Vietnam were spat upon. He challenged his readers to respond if they had ever witnessed it.

“So if you are a Vietnam veteran and you were ever spat upon by a civilian after you returned home, please drop a line to this column,” he wrote. “No jokes, please. If it really happened, it is no laughing matter. It would help if you provide approximate dates, places and circumstances.”

The response was enormous, and his promised column to revisit the issue turned into four. He ended, “There were simply too many letters, going into too fine detail, to deny the fact.”

These letters—234 of them—were then compiled into a book. One assistant who helped him curate the book stated, “The raw honesty of emotion from individuals I might have stereotyped as unemotional macho men… As I touched each letter, I felt as if I was being allowed to touch the life of the person who wrote it.”

Looking back, it may be hard for us to imagine acting in such a contemptuous way toward soldiers. After all, there was a draft; on top of that, they hadn’t asked to be born at a time that would make them the right age to fight.

Why do I mention this? Today’s dor is warned frequently about the innumerable poisons they must avoid. Sometimes when we give these warnings, we must also share the following message: “It is not your fault that you were born in this generation. You never signed up to live in a spiritually decadent environment. As Chazal teach regarding Noach, you are like Avraham b’doro. You are like Yosef in Mitzrayim!”

If there were a midrash describing a time in history when anything one imagined could appear on his desk with the tap of a finger, we would’ve assumed it was a complete exaggeration.

I should have told my daughter that I never had to suffer the challenges she has faced, and how proud and amazed I am that she succeeded. The fact that so many of our teenagers can enter forbidden worlds fairly easily, without being discovered, and yet either avoid it or walk away is a neis nigleh!

This message is critical for two reasons. First, it’s true. Secondly, there are teenagers who do fail from time to time in certain ways, and they need to know how special they still are. They need to know that they are still irreplaceable members of our nation. We must avoid yi’ush among our legionnaires.

There is a message here for all of us as well. Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz and many others write that yi’ush and sadness lead to more aveiros, not fewer, and it certainly doesn’t help in the teshuvah process. Rav Chaim Kanievsky explains in Derech Sichah that in Olam Haba we are judged not only by Hashem but by a panel of gedolim from our own dor, as only they can understand our challenges.

I am not suggesting, chalilah, that aveiros today have less substance or impact. But we must remind ourselves that we live in a generation of unprecedented challenges. We need to remember that we are still here, still learning the daf, making time for Torah study, doing chesed. We need to be proud that we haven’t given up and that we are still striving to grow and succeed.

Here’s an interesting analogy. Antivenom is an amazing innovation. How is it made? Venom is taken from snakes, placed in a syringe and injected into a horse. The horse becomes ill, but because of its large body mass, it can withstand the poison. Once the horse recovers, its antibodies are collected—and that’s the cure.

Our successful bnei and bnos Torah have this rare antivenom. Some critical mass in their neshamos has been large enough and strong enough to withstand the poisons around them. We should be asking them how they succeeded and what tools they used.

As we go into the Yom Hadin, we plead with Hashem to have mercy on us during this dangerous time, confident that He will see the private battles that we win—and knowing that if we lose, we can get up and keep striving.

As we asked Hashem on the first night of selichos: ‘pneh nah el ha’t’laos, v’al l’chatos -Look toward the suffering, and not the sins’

Wishing everyone a kesivah vachasimah tovah!l