God is in the Details

by Wendy Mogel

At least once a year we are supposed to engage in heshbon hanefesh, accounting of the soul. This includes taking a personal inventory of your own behavior and the lessons you may unwittingly be teaching your children. In Judaism, God is in the details, and one of the most important details is everyday courtesy.

The Rabbis teach that respectfulness and courtesy are redeeming virtues even when the Jewish people do not fulfill the other precepts of the Torah. They call these practices derekh eretz, and say: “A Torah scholar who does not have derekh eretz is worse than a dead animal.”

In our competitive, over-scheduled world, we often get in the habit of looking for shortcuts and finding creative justifications for breaking rules and putting our own needs ahead of those of the community. It is easy to forget our children are watching.

You need look no further than the carpool drop-off lane at your child’s school to know exactly what I’m talking about. Rudeness is so rampant that administrators nationwide are found to write parents letters begging them to be polite and follow the rules. I know, because I have a collection of these letters. They range from moving sermons to stand-up comedy routines, but all have a shared goal: to convince parents – those same parents who so badly want children to follow rules at home – to follow carpool rules that are designed for safety, efficiency and fairness.

All of us do things we don’t want our children to emulate, more often than we realize and often in undramatic, everyday ways. It’s always a good time to find ways to practice derekh eretz, beginning with the details of daily living.

Our Sages have plenty of suggestions for how to do this. The rules are as sensitive, countercultural and ethically sharp today as they were years ago. Here are some of my personal favorites. Many of these come from “Guide to Derekh Eretz,” an introduction to the subject by Rabbi Shaul Wagschal.

• To protect a rabbi from possible embarrassment, you shouldn’t ask a question if you suspect he may not know the answer.
• Invite guests to Shabbat dinner by Wednesday so they won’t think the invitation is an after-thought.
• In the days before locks, people were required to knock on the door of their own house so that they wouldn’t startle those already home. The proof text? God stood by the portal of the Garden of Eden and summoned Adam, as the verse says, “And the Lord called to Adam and said to him, ‘Where are you?’”
• Laws of lashon hara (wrongful speech) prohibit gossip, even in its most subtle, peripheral form, called avak lashon hara (the dust of gossip). For example, the Rabbis warn us never to praise anyone too highly because too much praise can invite the other person to compare the image you’re presenting to his own.
• If the court sentences a man to death by hanging, one must never say to one of his relatives, “Hang up the towel,” because the word hang evokes shameful memories.
• When the Rabbis noted that the rich brought their bikkurim (first fruit offerings) in silver bowls and the poor in woven baskets, they instituted a “baskets only” rule.
• When dancing on certain holidays, some of the daughters of the rich exchanged dresses with the daughters of the poor in order that the latter would not be embarrassed.

To these venerable laws I would like to add three suggestions of my own that will give parents frequent opportunities to teach by example:

• A parent must lay down his or her phone when greeting his child. The laws of derekh eretz state that when in public you should try to greet others as soon as you spot them so they won’t think you’re ignoring them or trying to avoid them.

Your child deserves as much consideration. Get off the cell phone before they get in the car. If the phone rings during the first few minutes of your greeting, don’t answer it.

Think of the phone as the snake in the garden. It’s an alluring temptation to always connect, but the caller knows how to leave a message. If you don’t answer the phone immediately, your child gets a message too – that greeting someone in person takes precedence over any other activity.

• It is forbidden to cut ahead in the carpool line. Why? Because it is a theft of time.

The Babylonian Talmud explores the problem of two boats simultaneously approaching a bottleneck in a river. If it is impossible for both to pass together, they should compromise in the following way: one boat goes first, and the captain of this boat compensates the second boat for the time that it lost waiting.

What is your compensation for waiting your turn in the carpool lane? It is the knowledge that you are teaching your child patience and courtesy.

• A mother or father should not fib on a child’s behalf, not even to maintain the purity of the college transcript. In my travels to schools around the country, I hear stunning examples of parents who commit unethical acts in the name of helping their children: the father who signed his daughter’s name to an e-mail he wrote to her English teacher contesting a grade; the mother who rewrote her son’s college application essay without his knowledge; the parents who research and even write their children’s papers for them.

The Rabbis say that one should not break a promise to a child, because doing so will teach the child to lie. If you tweak the rules for your children, you are breaking the agreement you made with them when they were young. Back then, you taught them to tell the truth. When they see your hypocrisy they will lose respect for you, imitate your behavior or both.

Jewish law provides rules that are meant to be followed even when your daughter absolutely must get to the orthodontist on time, even when you’re tempted to say, “Just this once.”

The commandment to honor one’s parents helps elevate the laws of derekh eretz to prominence. We can ask, “Do I deserve the reverence of my child? Am I the kind of parent my child can learn from and be proud of?”

Whatever motivates you – your entry ticket to the gates of heaven, how your children will treat your grandchildren or your child’s next letter of recommendation – it is the time to think about not only crimes but misdemeanors and, if we are right by the Rabbis, even dust.

A Response

by Jane Geller Epstein

The article by Wendy Mogel opens up a good discussion on derekh eretz, providing biblical, rabbinic and personal observations on positive human interaction. Children learn from observation and modeling, based on watching those they love and whose love they want to earn in return. Because children differ due to innate personalities, a variety of physical and mental limitations and family context, what a child experiences throughout her/his development becomes a factor in whom s/he will become as a teen and adult. Listening to and watching adults is as much an “experience” as what one actually does. Hearing what others say, either directly or indirectly, can be as significant as being hugged or harmed.

I would guess that all of us have said things about others that we wished our young children did not hear. Once words are articulated, they cannot be taken back. Thus, we have to be careful with our words. As an educator and parent, I used to hear 3- and 4-year-olds trying to shame other children, calling them names or critiquing their “work.” Teachers are usually sensitive to such verbal abuse, but they do not always hear every conversation happening in a classroom or on the playground. Parents have to partner with teachers to let children know that each individual is worthy. We are all different from each other in many ways. But, all of us are valued for who we are and many others out there have the potential to be our next best friend. The words we use and the tone in which they are said can be damaging. Friends become enemies. Derekh eretz compels us to become conscious of this effect on others and to transmit this attitude toward our children.

Another area of social development that impacts on how we treat others is exercised in self-control, especially in terms of sharing and taking turns. This is impossible for the very young. They have no self-control and they have no social conscience. At an early age, however, children can gradually learn through interaction, through being reminded that others are equally entitled to the same toy, to a piece of the cake, to our undivided attention. Sharing things, sharing time with Mommy, sharing a place next to a favorite relative can be a major issue for pre-schoolers. Helping these children to understand that their turn will come, that others have the same desires, that all of us have to give up and hold back at times is difficult to learn, but essential to harmonious social interaction. A two-year-old is less inclined to understand and to be patient. A four-year-old should have already acquired a level of mastery in these skills to relate appropriately, most of the time.

Children who feel good about themselves will have an easier time of relating positively toward others. Their self-confidence, without arrogance, will guide them toward “doing the right thing” for themselves and with others. Acknowledging a child’s achievements, providing love and lots of hugs at the right time, and also setting up age-appropriate limits are ways of helping our children become mentchen. A child who feels all-powerful will not understand the human limits of others. A child who does not feel secure will demand comfort through unacceptable means. A child who is given total freedom will not learn self-control and sensitivity toward others. Derekh eretz is the Jewish term that describes how we move our children from self-centered, disorganized personalities to loving, caring human beings. The job is difficult and complex. But, as our Rabbis taught us two thousand years ago, “It is not yours to complete the task, but neither are you free to desist from it.”

The Perfect Young Family Shabbat (Confessions of a Jewish Early Childhood Educator)

by Maxine Segal Handelman, Early Childhood Consultant, USCJ

We strive every week in my house for Shabbat joy. What does this look like? Our lights are on timers, our friends and shul are within walking distance, sundown guides our candle lighting time, I bake hallah every week, and the phone almost never rings in our house on Shabbat, since most know we won’t be answering. In our previous apartment, there were two families with whom we were very good friends who lived within two blocks (one of them lived across the parking lot behind our house). These were our “usual suspects” – we could always count on doing Shabbat dinner together at one of our houses. We were all quite comfortable calling each other Thursday night or Friday morning and asking, “Where are we doing Shabbat dinner? What should I bring?” We have since moved a mile west, the family across the parking lot moved to St. Louis, and while the walk to the other family’s house is still do-able, it is no longer assumed that we will always be together. Wendy Mogel’s comment in her article in this issue of Your Child was cause for some mild alarm. She writes, “Invite guests to Shabbat dinner by Wednesday so they won’t think the invitation is an after-thought.” We are still in the habit of figuring out our Shabbat dinner plans sometime around Thursday.

I was also alarmed when I read advice from Colin Cowie, event planner, about How to Make People Feel Really Welcome in O: The Oprah Magazine, November ’06. He writes, “Whether you’re in the African bush or a Park Avenue penthouse, you want to disarm your guest with an enthusiastic, jolly greeting and a smiling, relaxed face. So prepare in advance: If the guests arrive while you’re chopping onions and you haven’t laid out a place setting, they’ll either feel like intruders or think, Oh God, I’d better roll up my sleeves and jump in. No, you want to take care of them, to appeal to their senses as soon as they step over the threshold.”

I had a painful flashback to the Shabbat, not long ago, when we had invited a new-to-town family for Shabbat dinner. My husband, who normally cooks the meal (I am the hallah and dessert person) had not arrived home from work yet and I was running around the kitchen like a chicken without a head when the guests arrived. The fish was not seasoned let alone in the oven, the table was partially set and the brownies were still just an intention. And while I don’t think the children minded at all when they got to help lick out the bowl from the brownies, I knew that this was not the way to participate in the mitzvah (obligation) of hakhnasat orhim (hospitality) even without Colin’s advice.

The irony of ironies is that I wrote a children’s book, The Shabbat Angels (URJ Press) which tells the story of the two angels, Tov and Rah, who peek in the window of each family’s home on erev Shabbat. If the house and the people are ready for Shabbat and joy is in the house, Tov blesses the family, “May next Shabbat be just like this one.” But if the house is a mess and the family is not ready for Shabbat, Rah curses the family, “May next Shabbat be just like this one.” I look around my house some Fridays, at the strewn toys and the piles of papers and the unreturned phone calls and the dishes piled up, and I think, “Rah’s curse takes effect once again.”

I laugh sometimes when I think about the workshops I taught for young parents about Shabbat before I had children of my own. About the strategies I suggested for keeping children at the Shabbat table longer, about the discussion topics I put forth for family table talk. I recently gave such a talk. My five- year-old daughter was snuggled in my lap as I prepared. I asked her to help me think of all the things we do to prepare for and celebrate Shabbat. I was impressed when she said, “Set lights for Shabbat, because they’re resting.” Turning on the closet lights and other Shabbat lights is her job. She also mentioned “Buy flowers” and “Set table, make hallah and cook dinner.” When I asked her how long the kids stay at the table for dinner, she responded, “Not a long time.” Which is how we all like it. When the kids have eaten what the grown-ups deem as enough, the children all disappear from the table. Sometimes they play in the living room adjacent to the dining room, sometimes they run upstairs to the playroom. And then the grown-ups get down to the real business of Shabbat: having a conversation with more than two sentences in a row without interruptions like “Can I have a snack?” or “She took my toy!”, enjoying the company of old and new friends, unwinding from the week, living and breathing Torah in the building of community and the refreshing of the soul. Never fear, the children always reappear for dessert and sometimes a song or two. We sing all of Birkat HaMazon (Blessings After the Meal) aloud so even if the children act like they’re not paying attention, the melody seeps into their souls.

Do my guests ever think their Shabbat invitation was an afterthought? They might, but they come anyway. Still, maybe I could work on the Wednesday invitation thing. I might be able to successfully invite some of those people who are always booked by Thursday. Do my guests ever arrive and walk into my kitchen, roll up their sleeves and get to work? Sometimes, but then again, those are some of my favorite people. I can certainly try to be as prepared as I can, but even Abraham had his guests stand by as he rushed about to make them feel welcome. I can do at least that well. My children are learning that Shabbat is a joy even if I don’t (especially because I don’t) force them to stay at the Shabbat table. My house may not be spotless but the hallah is always sweet, and somehow, time is carved out and sanctified, and souls are refreshed. May next Shabbat be just like this one.

Preparing for Shabbat with Young Children

• Bake hallah with your children. Trust them to crack the eggs. Buy extra eggs.
• Buy prepared frozen hallah. Let your children help paint the defrosted hallah with egg to make it shiny and sprinkle it with poppy or sesame seeds (or both).
• Have your child help you set the table for Shabbat. Make sure you leave extra time to make this a lesson about which side to place the fork.
• Let your child choose which hallah cover to use.
• If you don’t turn lights on and off on Shabbat, give your child the job of setting the lights for Shabbat.
• Keep a dish with coins collected during the week and a tzedakah box next to the Shabbat candles. Let children put coins in the box right before lighting.

Celebrating Shabbat with Young Children – Friday night

• When you light the candles, keep your eyes covered for a few extra moments after you say the blessing. Think about the wonderful guests at your table, the tasty meal you’re about to enjoy, and all the things you have to be thankful for that happened during the past week. Let everyone else wonder what you are doing.
• Kiss and hug your family and guests.
• Bless your children and your spouse. Invite them to bless you too. Consider letting children taste the Shabbat wine.
• Did you know we use some of the same words in the brachah for “al netilat yadayim” (blessing on washing our hands) that we use for shaking the lulav, “al netilat lulav.” When you say the blessing over washing your hands, shake your hands like a lulav.
• Help children say “motzi (the blessing on bread that starts most meals).”
• Don’t make children eat their vegetables on Shabbat.
• Let children show off what they learned in school. Sing their songs with them.
• Let children leave the table to play with their friends. Invite them back when it’s time for dessert.
• Really enjoy your guests. Talk for a long time.
• Sing birkat hamazon (Blessing After the Meal) aloud so children can learn it.

Celebrating Shabbat with Young Children – Saturday

• Let your children cuddle in bed with you when they wake up.
• Take time to sing Modeh Ani (Blessing on Waking Up) in a round.
• Allow sugar cereals.
• Meet up with friends on the way to shul (synagogue).
• Linger over lunch.
• Have a box of toys for Shabbat only.
• Nap.
• Send your kids to a friend’s house for a play date (next week, have that friend to your house).
• Take a walk or go to the park – the whole family.
• Read a lot of books together.
• Do Havdalah (the prayer of separation after Shabbat ends) and sing the blessings together. Sing Eliyahu HaNavi and Shavua Tov.

Book Suggestions

• The Blessing of a Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teaching to Raise Self-reliant Children. Wendy Mogel, NY: Penguin Compass, 2001. Drawing on the wisdom of the Torah, the Talmud and important Jewish teachings, The Blessing of a Skinned Knee provides a new road map for parenting.
• A Day Apart: Shabbat at Home. Noam Sachs Zion and Shawn Fields-Meyer, Jerusalem: Shalom Hartman Institute, 2004. A step-by-step guidebook with blessings and songs, rituals and reflections.
• Zen Shorts. Jon Muth, NY: Scholastic Press, 2005. Not a Jewish book, but this story beautifully describes the peace and wisdom that are perfectly suited for a Shabbat cuddle.
• The Friday Nights of Nana. Amy Hest, Cambridge, MA: Candlewick, 2001. A book celebrating the Jewish Sabbath traditions and special time with grandparents from a child’s perspective.
• Just Enough Room. Miriam Feinberg, NY: United Synagogue of America Commission on Jewish Education, 1991. A wonderful story for Shabbat, truly illustrating the joy of sharing Shabbat and the mitzvah of hakhnasat orhim (hospitality). (Available through the USCJ Book Service, booksvc.uscj.org)

Garlic Dip
by Allison Gardenswartz

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