Rabbi Peretz Chen | My child drives me to despair! How can I not give up on him? - Parshas Emor

00:00 Hello, everyone. How are you? What’s happening? How’s it going? In today’s class, with Hashem’s help, we’ll talk about one word that isn’t easy: despair. What happens? A son is born to us, or a daughter, and we’re so excited. Every little step forward—their first step, their first smile—fills us with excitement. We take pictures, tell the whole family, and they keep growing until, little by little, they become independent. Then they start doing things we really don’t like, things that run completely counter to our worldview. Of course, what counts as that differs from family to family, from person to person. For some, if a child doesn’t tidy their room and it’s always, always a mess, that’s what runs counter to their worldview. Sometimes it’s spiritual matters, or ways of behaving that we just can’t stomach. We weren’t like that. Where did they get this from? Where did those genes even come from? And it drives us crazy. When it keeps happening, more and more intensely, it can leave parents feeling utterly hopeless. What, there’s no chance anymore? How many times have we tried, how many times have we spoken to them, how many times have we pleaded? We’ve poured our hearts out, and the same story repeats itself again and again. The child doesn’t—doesn’t—doesn’t make it to school, is late, comes up with excuses all day long. And no matter how hard we try or what we do, it happens again and again, until—okay, fine, don’t go at all. We’ve had enough. How long can we keep going crazy over this? How long can we keep talking to them about the same thing? If, G-d forbid, it’s a spiritual matter, how hard it is for parents when there’s something important to do spiritually and suddenly their child stops doing it. We’ve asked and spoken to them so many times, and they simply won’t do it. It can drive us crazy. It can completely wear us down.

02:03 It can bring us to despair and make us say things like, “I’ve simply had enough of you. There’s no hope for you. I’ve given up. That’s it, that’s it. I have no strength left. It’s over. Do what you want, and leave us alone.” These are words we find hard to say, but they come out of our mouths in moments like that. So today, with Hashem’s help, we’ll talk about despair. How far does this go? We’ll see how the holy Torah takes the most extreme situations, the ones most likely to make us despair, and tells us: Even then, don’t give up. First we’ll look more deeply at the Torah teaching. Where do we see in the Torah that, no matter what, we don’t give up? It’s also connected to the weekly parsha, Parshas Emor, which we’ll read this coming Shabbos, with Hashem’s help. Then we’ll bring that lesson home, to our own children. There are three places in the Torah where it commands an adult to “warn,” in the Torah’s language—that is, to educate—someone younger. What are those three places? The first is the prohibition against consuming blood. The Torah commands us not to eat or drink blood, because the blood is the soul. When it discusses this prohibition, the Torah emphasizes that an adult is commanded to educate a child about it. So the prohibition against consuming blood is the first place. The second place where the Torah specifically commands an adult to educate a child is the prohibition against eating creeping creatures. We’re forbidden to eat all sorts of creeping creatures and insects. With this prohibition, too, the Torah places a duty on an adult to educate a child: Don’t eat those creeping creatures and insects crawling around everywhere. The third place where the Torah commands an adult to educate and warn a child is in this week’s parsha, Parshas Emor. The Torah says, “Speak to the kohanim, the sons of Aharon,

04:17 and say to them.” The question immediately arises, and Rashi asks it: Why “speak” and then “say”? There’s a repetition here. Rashi explains that the Torah is commanding adults to educate children. What is the subject in this week’s parsha? At the beginning, it discusses the prohibition against kohanim becoming ritually impure through contact with the dead. So the Torah says: You, the older kohen, must educate and instruct the younger kohen not to become impure through contact with the dead either. In the Torah’s language, it is a warning to adults concerning children; in the words of our Sages, it is a warning to adults about children. The adult must warn and educate the child. The question is—and the Gemara asks this—why did the Torah choose to teach this point, that an adult educates a child, specifically in those three places: the prohibition against blood, the prohibition against creeping creatures and insects, and the prohibition against kohanim becoming impure through contact with the dead? The Gemara itself discusses this and explains why. But there’s a beautiful explanation that the Lubavitcher Rebbe once wrote in a letter to someone. There, the Rebbe explained from an educational perspective why the Torah chose precisely those three places. The central point, as we’ll explain in a moment, is that these are situations where we’d be most inclined to give up and say, “Okay, that’s as far as I can go. I’ve given up on that child, that young person, that student. There’s no chance. It isn’t going to happen.” And it’s precisely in those places that the Torah emphasizes: You don’t give up. You don’t give up. Let’s begin with the prohibition against consuming blood. Today we hear that and think, “What? Eat blood? Who drinks blood? What is that?” First, we need to know that the Gemara says blood was once a very powerful craving. People actually enjoyed it. It was a pleasure, a treat—like a steak—to drink blood. In fact, I recently spoke about this with someone who’s a chef by profession at our Chabad House. He told me that

06:25 he has a few colleagues at work, and there’s someone from Romania or somewhere like that who told him about a special dish they make with blood. It’s hard for us to hear, but that’s the reality. People used to be immersed in blood and enjoy it. So, in those days, if you saw someone drinking blood, you were looking at someone driven by appetite, because it was such a strong craving. This was someone whose whole day revolved around another craving, another pleasure, another way to make his body feel as good as possible and indulge himself. You might think, “Wait a minute. With a person whose mind works that way, who’s so absorbed in it, do I have any chance of influencing him? There’s no chance. He’s so immersed in his appetites. How could I influence him to pursue spirituality, to grow, to do things for his soul too? He’s nowhere near that.” But regarding the prohibition against consuming blood, the Torah says: Adults must warn children. Yes, yes, yes—you don’t give up. Don’t give up even on someone like that. You can influence him too, and you must do it. Moving on: the prohibition against eating creeping creatures and insects. For many people, the very thought is revolting. Forgive me for the example, but imagine seeing a plate that’s moving as you eat from it. It’s unpleasant even to say. So someone who’s immersed in eating creeping creatures and insects seems, on some level, beyond the reach of ordinary human conversation. He’s absorbed in things that are so repulsive. We might think, “Is there any chance of talking to someone like that, of influencing him, of trying to speak to him about growth, spirituality, the soul? Look where his mind is!” But here too, the Torah tells us: Adults must warn children. Yes, yes, yes—you don’t give up on someone like that either.

08:16 You go to him, influence him, strengthen him, and try to help him grow spiritually despite the situation he’s in, because we don’t give up on anyone, no matter what. Then the third place is in this week’s parsha, in the prohibition against kohanim becoming impure through contact with the dead. What’s the point here? What’s the catch? Tumah, becoming impure, is something spiritual. Can you tell by looking at an impure person that he’s impure? Outwardly, he looks exactly like a pure person. So where is the impurity? Come on, point to it for me. There’s nowhere to point. It’s something spiritual. A person who doesn’t believe in tumah shows that he has no faith. He says: What I can see exists; what I can’t see doesn’t exist. In his world, in his life, there’s no such thing as faith. So someone who doesn’t believe in tumah and purity has no faith. How can you strengthen him at all? How can you even talk to him? He’s not interested in faith or spirituality, in anything beyond what the eye can see, beyond human understanding. So there’s no chance. No, no, no—we won’t try to bring him closer or influence him. But the Torah tells us, repeating the word twice, “Emor” and “ve’amarta”: No, we don’t give up even on someone like that. But wait—why not, really? The one drawn to blood is a person driven by cravings. The one involved with crawling creatures is caught up in repulsive things. And someone who doesn’t believe in tumah and purity has no faith. How can we influence them? But no, we can influence them too, because they too have a neshamah inside. They too have one. As the Rambam explains—even a person... This

10:02 is brought in the Rambam concerning a man who doesn’t want to give his wife a get, and he is compelled to give her one. After they force him, after they beat him, he says, “I want to give her a get,” and she is considered divorced. The question is: But he didn’t really mean it. He said it because they beat him. The Rambam explains: He truly wants to. When he says, “I don’t want to give her a get,” that isn’t really him speaking. It isn’t his neshamah speaking. It’s his body, his yetzer hara, speaking. The truth within him is that he wants to, because everyone wants to do good. Everyone wants to connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So even someone who seems completely disconnected, completely distant, completely uninterested—there’s no such thing. We need to influence him too, because he has a neshamah, because deep down he wants to. And so, even someone who seems furthest away from us—whether it’s the matter of blood, of crawling creatures, or of someone who doesn’t believe in tumah and purity—we don’t give up on him. In fact, there is something very powerful here. The Torah’s wording is “to admonish the adults concerning the children.” What is hidden in those words? The Hebrew word for “admonish,” lehazhir, recalls the word Zohar, as in the Book of Zohar, the book of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai—Lag BaOmer is coming soon. Zohar means light, a great light. When I influence someone else, when I guide a child, what happens? I illuminate myself too. When we give something meaningful to someone else, we also give a great deal to ourselves. So the message of all this, the message of all this, is that we don’t give up. We don’t give up.

11:40 Even when it really seems hopeless. And the same is true in our own homes. Even when our children do something that’s just—well, it’s not normal; this isn’t the sort of thing we expect in our home—we don’t give up. There’s an amazing story I have to tell about a boy who simply wore his mother out. Whatever she wanted, he did the opposite. He turned the house upside down, and he turned his classroom at school upside down. They would call his mother in, and she was embarrassed all the time. She was simply at her wits’ end, helpless. She didn’t know what to do. In her distress, she decided to take her son to the Rebbe. One day she came to him. The mother and son entered the Rebbe’s room together, and she told the Rebbe about the difficult life she had with this boy. The boy stood beside her. When she finished, the Rebbe turned to him and said, “Tell me, do you try to behave well at school?” Without hesitation, he told the Rebbe, “No.” His mother heard that and felt embarrassed. Then the Rebbe said, “Tell me, do you try—does it matter to you—to make your mother happy?” Again, without hesitation, the boy said, “No.” His poor mother didn’t know where to hide. She was so embarrassed. Then the Rebbe turned to her and said, “You know, your son has the quality of truthfulness. It’s very strong in him, and in life, truthfulness is a very, very important quality.” When she heard that, she smiled. She smiled. Well, they left the Rebbe’s room. Time passed, and little by little the boy began to improve. Eventually, when, boruch Hashem, he had come a long way and left the foolishness behind, he spoke about the defining moment that changed him. Suddenly, when the Rebbe

13:47 said to his mother, “Look, your son has the quality of truthfulness,” he saw her smile. And he thought: This is the first time I’ve seen my mother smile because of something I did. After all, why did she smile? Because of what the Rebbe said about the things he did. This was the first time I’d seen my mother smile because of something I did. Until then, everything he did had annoyed her or upset her. He acted as though he didn’t care, but he did care, because she was his mother. Deep down, inside, he cared. Suddenly he saw her smile because of something he had done. It gave him such inner strength. From then on, he began to change. Until then, the message he had received was: You’re hopeless. People have given up on you. You’re no good. You have no chance of improving. And suddenly, what did this boy see? Here’s my mother smiling. I have good in me too. People haven’t given up on me after all. So these are the kinds of words we need to say to children, even when they do things we don’t approve of. We can—and certainly should—correct them and offer criticism. That’s our job; we’re their parents. But we should say it this way: “This behavior isn’t like you.” It’s the behavior. Not “You’re unworthy; you’re no good.” The behavior isn’t like you. We’re sure you’re capable of much more than this. With words like these, we’re drawing a distinction between the child and the behavior. You are sweet, beloved, blessed; we embrace you. The behavior isn’t right for you. You can do things differently. We’re sure of it. The behavior itself is wrong. You are okay. As people often say, you don’t tell a child, “You’re a thief,” right? That puts a label on him. Instead, you tell him that behaving this way isn’t right for him, but he himself is okay. And that way we won’t convey despair to them, because the truth is, in their hearts, they need us. They want us and want to be close to us, even when they act as though they don’t.

15:32 I once asked a very senior clinical psychologist about this. He said, “Sometimes, when children act as though they don’t care, you have no idea how much they care.” Why? Because they don’t have other parents. We are their parents. I’m their father; my wife is their mother. They need us very, very much, even when they act as though they don’t. So we mustn’t show them that we’ve given up on them. That can only push them further away, to places we really don’t want them to go. Instead, let’s try to speak in a way that brings them closer, that leaves an opening for closeness and connection. Then we’ll see much blessing, and then, with Hashem’s help—and only with His help—we’ll see a great deal of success. May there be good news for the Jewish people; may things be good for the Jewish people. May we soon merit the return of the hostages, and may we soon merit healing for all the wounded. May the Jewish people always have the upper hand. May we soon merit the coming of Moshiach and the resurrection of the dead, and be reunited with all the holy ones taken from us recently. If you enjoyed the class, if you feel you heard a message that was truly meaningful—I think it was—and if you agree, please share the class. Share it with a friend. Leave your thoughts in the comments below; I’m sure you have wise things to say. We’d really appreciate it if you gave this class a like and shared it, because when YouTube’s system sees that, it shows the class to many, many more people. Above all, may we merit good news, abundant blessing, and much success. Thank you very much. All the best; goodbye.