Chinuch Chassidi – Rabbi Chen · Episode 18 · 9 Cheshvan 5784 · 19:59
Rabbi Peretz Chen | - Iron Swords - This is how we'll spare our children from iron anxieties!
Episode description
These are days of war, anxiety is rising, and our dear children may be the first to be affected. What should we do to protect them and help them remain steady? Watch. Take it to heart, and above all, may we hear good news and merit the complete Geulah very soon. Amen!
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:00 Hello to you all. Wow, what days we’re going through. The Iron Swords War is in full swing. With Hashem’s help, may the names of those enemies, those accursed people who have caused and continue to cause so much suffering to Jews, soon be wiped from the face of the earth. May we never again know of them, their deeds, or even their memory, with Hashem’s help. But our responsibility as parents at this time is this: Iron Swords, yes; ironclad anxiety, no. We must not let anxiety take hold of our children’s lives with the strength of iron, G-d forbid. So what can we do—and what must we do—to reduce our children’s anxiety as much as possible in days like these, when what’s happening naturally gives rise to so much fear? Let’s picture what things look like right now. In many, many families, people spend part of the day in front of a screen, listening to all the commentators, all the analysis, all the strategies and predictions: this is going to happen, and then that will happen. I happened to be at a fire station in Ashkelon. All the guys were sitting in front of a screen, and suddenly a bright red banner popped up at the bottom: “Hostile aircraft, hostile aircraft have entered such-and-such a community.” Everyone watching immediately became anxious and worried. “Oh no, hostile aircraft! Who knows—it could reach me soon.” Or the radio is on at home all the time, and every few seconds it beeps with an alert somewhere else: “This is a real alert. Enter a protected space.” Say I live in Ashkelon, and the alert is in Be’er Sheva or Tel Aviv or anywhere else—I still hear every alert. But let’s remember that my child is home with me. So either... either he sees
02:10 it on the screen or he hears all those warnings and beeps on the radio. What does that do to him? Honestly, what difference does it make to me right now to know there’s an alert in another city, one I don’t live in? If the purpose is to say a chapter of Tehillim for the people there, fine. But otherwise, what does it really accomplish? If there’s an alert in my city, I’ll hear the siren even without the radio warning. The sirens are audible. So why do I need to hear it? But what does my child take in, constantly? Another siren and another siren—it’s getting closer, closing in on me. And when he hears about “hostile aircraft,” for example—those reports have been popping up from time to time lately—I understand that it might be a small drone they’ll bring down any moment, or maybe a mistake. But I don’t know what’s going through his mind. He might be picturing hostile aircraft. Perhaps he once read a children’s book about planes that bombed somewhere, and in his mind, those are the hostile aircraft. Those are the connections he makes. It’s that plane, coming now, and who knows what it will do? That can make him very anxious. In professional terms, a child doesn’t have the same anchors that we adults have. What do I mean by anchors? Let me give an example. A man loses his job, comes home and tells his son, “You know, they told me today that I’ve been fired.” He’s simply passing along information. The father might be worried too, but he knows that although he’s been fired, he’ll find another job. There’s no shortage of
03:58 work in his field. But in his son’s mind: “Wait, Dad’s been fired. That means he has no job. That means there’s no money. That means that in a few days there won’t even be bread, the fridge will be empty, we’ll have nothing to eat, and we’ll go hungry all day.” It can leave him frightened and anxious. The father mentioned it casually; it was just news about what happened today. He may not even be worried, because perhaps he has experience with this sort of thing. It doesn’t alarm him, because he knows he can find another job very quickly. But his son doesn’t have those same anchors. He doesn’t understand the situation the way his father does. It could cause him tremendous anxiety and worry. Suddenly we notice that he’s eating less. Suddenly he seems less focused and isn’t functioning as well. Why? Because he’s become anxious: who knows what will happen now? That’s exactly what’s happening now. Reports are coming at us from every direction, and people who sit in front of a screen all day or listen to the radio constantly are flooded with information. More information and more information, until they become frightened and anxious far beyond what the actual situation warrants. As adults, we can still put it in perspective. All right, that commentator said something—but there are other commentators. Who says what he said is true? Children don’t know how to reason through those things. They don’t have the anchors we have. That’s why it’s up to us to make sure they experience as little ironclad anxiety as possible—anxiety as hard as iron, which, G-d forbid, could take hold and stay with them long afterward.
05:49 So what do we do? First, as I was saying about all the information people are exposed to, everyone keeps saying there’s no point in taking it all in. It really doesn’t help anyone. Of course, it brings the media a great deal of business, and of course it arouses our curiosity. But when children are exposed to it, it can harm them. So instead of having the radio at home tuned to a station that constantly broadcasts alerts from all over the country—if I live in the south and there’s an alert in Kiryat Shmona, why do I need to hear it right now? Again, if it’s so we can say a chapter of Tehillim, wonderful, but usually that’s not quite the purpose—it’s better to put something else on at home. Play music, soothing and cheerful things; keep things as calm as possible. Again, if there’s a siren where we are, we’ll hear it. As much as possible, let’s spare the children exposure to all these things. But today I want to offer a particular tool that can be very helpful with anxiety in general, and especially now. It’s a very effective approach called the method of action. We know that, generally speaking, in our world, action is the main thing. People talk: “I’ll do it,” “I went,” “I did this.” But when it comes down to it, did you do it or not? That’s what matters. Action is the main thing. Are you doing something or not? A person who is busy doing things is a healthy person, much more protected from all sorts of confusion around him. There’s even a source for this in halachah: when a person is engaged in doing something good and positive, he is protected from harmful influences in his surroundings. It says in halachah, in the laws of salting meat—for, as you know, when
07:45 When preparing a chicken for eating—after slaughtering it, when you want to make it kosher for eating—you have to salt it. You spread a lot of salt over the chicken, over the meat, and the salt causes the meat or chicken to release the blood inside it, because eating blood is forbidden. But that raises a question: just as the salt causes it to expel the blood, couldn’t it also cause the blood to go back in? Who says it only draws the blood out? Who says the process works in just one direction? Maybe it works both ways? So halachah says, “Agav tarid le’aflutei, lo bala”—because it is busy expelling, it does not absorb. While it is occupied with releasing something outward, it cannot absorb it inward. These words of halachah carry a great lesson for life. Sometimes a person lives in an environment that may not be the most suitable for him in terms of values or religious and spiritual life. How can he protect himself from that environment? Who says it won’t influence him and pull him down? “Agav tarid le’aflutei”: when a person is busy giving outward, contributing and influencing others, he does not absorb from his surroundings. That is the secret of the many Chabad shluchim who live in places that, seemingly, are not their natural environment, in Israel and abroad. Who says the shliach will influence his surroundings rather than the other way around? When he is busy giving outward, he does not absorb inward. When we are occupied with positive action, we absorb less. So the ma’aseh method is a method divided into four stages. Each of the letters in the word ma’aseh—mem, ayin, shin, shin, and alef—points to a different action
09:48 that helps in a situation of anxiety. So let’s go through those four things briefly, but focus on one central one that I think is very, very important to put into practice. It has tremendous power right now, especially now, to give strength to children and to people in general. The first letter in the word ma’aseh is mem, which stands for commitment. In other words, one of the things that can cause a great deal of anxiety at a time like this is a feeling of loneliness. There is pressure now, there are missile attacks, and things can happen. How can I, small and alone—a young child—face those challenges, those great threats? A child can sometimes feel alone in this struggle, and that can be very frightening and weaken his self-confidence. So mem, commitment, means commitment and connection: You are not alone. We, your family, are committed to you. We are connected to you. You are not alone in all this. You are not facing it by yourself. You are here together with us. We will be with you. No matter what happens or how it happens, we are with you all the time. You will not be alone for even a moment. That already gives the child tremendous strength, confidence and a sense of calm that, with Hashem’s help, everything will be all right. The letter ayin in ma’aseh stands for encouraging action. To keep a person, and especially a child, from getting caught up in anxious and distressing thoughts, get him involved in doing things. I met a Jewish doctor who came from Boston especially now, during the war, to help here in Israel. A serious man with his own clinic—he left everything and came here to join the effort. I said to him, “You came? That’s remarkable.” He
11:58 said to me, “What do you mean? I could have sat at home in Boston, comfortable, watching and keeping up with the latest news. But I felt I had to act, to do something. That in itself eases my anxiety about what’s happening. If I sat there, I’d be terribly anxious: What’s happening? What’s happening in Israel?” It’s his country, he has family here, it matters to him. These are his people. He said, “Instead of sitting there caught up in anxiety, I decided to come here and do something. Now that I’m here, I don’t even have time to think about what’s happening. I’m simply busy doing things.” And you can see it: the more we are occupied with positive action at a time like this, the less time we have for thoughts, imaginings and fantasies about what might happen. Just get up and do something. It really heals the soul at a time like this. It keeps all the wrong things from entering our thoughts and imaginations, overwhelming us and leaving us behaving like anxious people—immobilized, inactive and under pressure. Just get up and do something. Anyone who is busy taking action now is doing much more for their emotional health. Now, at home, the children are not going to go out and distribute treats or other things to soldiers; that isn’t realistic. So what can we do with them at home? We can involve them in activities. For example, suppose someone lives in an area where there are missiles and schools are closed—though most areas are probably like that—and people are staying home rather than going out much. So
13:48 Friday comes, and at home we bake small rolls, for example, and give them out to everyone in the building, along with Shabbos candles and a note of good wishes, and perhaps something else. The children organize it. They help, pack everything, distribute it and write the notes. That gives them tremendous strength: We are doing something for others, encouraging others, caring for others. This activity has tremendous power to ward off all the troubling thoughts and confusion. Quite the opposite: the child feels that he is giving and encouraging others, and “while occupied with expelling, it does not absorb” [?]. He does not absorb all the pressure and confusion of the moment. So we can say to our child, “We’re sending packages to the soldiers; write them notes.” Between us, even if we don’t end up sending them to the soldiers, the very fact that the children sat down, wrote the notes and did it matters. We tell them how much it will strengthen and encourage the soldiers, and afterward we can show them a message from a soldier saying, “Thank you so much. Your words helped me and gave me strength. Because of you, I’ll be able to do my part in the war for the Jewish people.” That is something we can do; it isn’t complicated. Or gather them at home and say, “Let’s say Tehillim,” and explain how much our Tehillim can accomplish: in their merit, the Jewish people will be victorious and the soldiers will succeed in their missions. Think of all kinds of activities like these, where the children contribute, give and do something. It will give them a great deal of strength and leave less room in their minds to worry about what might happen and how, and for all kinds of stress and anxiety. Simply put, the ayin in ma’aseh means encouraging action. Encourage them to act. It’s just like a soldier who is
15:40 Right now he’s in the middle of a mission. He’s a combat soldier, and he has a very, very significant and dangerous mission. If he starts thinking about his fears and what could happen, it won’t work. But because he’s busy doing something, because he has a goal and a mission, he isn’t thinking about it at all. He has no time to think about it; he’s focused on his objective. He has a mission. He needs to catch that terrorist, eliminate that person, capture that position. He has no time to start thinking about anxiety. He’s busy acting, almost like a machine. In the same way, when we encourage children to do things, to take action, it helps keep them occupied with positive activity, with less room for nonsense to enter their heads. The next part of the Ma’aseh method: we said the mem stands for commitment and connection—we’re with you. The ayin is encouragement to act. The shin in Ma’aseh stands for questions. If we feel that our child is a little stressed, is becoming anxious, and we want to calm him down—say there was just a siren and the child is all shaken up—we can ask him questions that get him thinking a little. Where exactly were you when the siren sounded? Where were you, and where did you go? Questions like that make him think a little and bring him back down to earth, bring him back to us. And the alef in Ma’aseh is putting the event in order. Often, part of the stress is that everything has become a jumble in the child’s head. It’s unclear what happened or who was there, and he no longer even understands what frightened him. So we can tell him what happened: We were in that room earlier,
17:29 and there was a siren and a bit of an explosion, and that frightened us a little. Put it in a clear, orderly way for him, but reassure him that everything is okay and we’re together. Knowing the sequence of events—what happened and what came next—reduces anxiety. And, of course, make it feel as normal as possible. That is the Ma’aseh method, which helps when something has happened that might cause anxiety. But to me, the most significant part is the ayin: encouragement to act. Simply encourage action. So our task now, during this period, is to help our children avoid, G-d forbid, these “iron anxieties” by getting them to do things—as many things as possible. That includes ordinary household activities: keeping up the regular routine of waking up and going to sleep, having whoever is responsible for washing the dishes wash them, and whoever is responsible for tidying up tidy up. These ordinary activities are very important; they provide stability. But along with that, there should be activities specifically for this period—things that make the children feel that they are contributing and helping, that the Jewish people will succeed through their actions. That will help a great deal. First, because it really does help: every positive action helps. But it will also give them the feeling that we are helping, being useful, giving. That leaves less room for the frightening thoughts and anxieties we don’t want to take hold now. May it be Hashem’s will, first of all, that no Jewish man or woman be harmed, that we all be healthy and whole, and that those accursed enemies simply disappear from here. Let them leave; let them not be here. We don’t want a trace of them
19:23 to remain here. And may the Jewish people, with Hashem’s help, see great success and a great victory this year. May Hashem have mercy on us and send us Moshiach. Because that is the comfort we are ready for and want to receive after what happened. We want to welcome Moshiach Tzidkeinu here. May we merit the Geulah very soon, with kindness and mercy, with Hashem’s help. Then we will all travel to the holy city of Jerusalem, to the Third Beis Hamikdash. May we merit that very soon. May there be good news, and nachas and good health from our children. Good news.