As parents, we have many hopes and dreams for our children. Among these are imparting our Jewish values effectively, so that they will shape their thinking and decisions and life choices. And yet, we want our children to be autonomous human beings, expanding their inquisitive, critical thinking.
The two can seem at odds with each other- expecting our children to embrace our values, black-and-white truths. And yet, giving our children the freedom- and respect- of exploring their thoughts.
How to reconcile the two?
While we certainly have an obligation to guide our children’s questions about Judaism, about Hashem…to concrete answers and eternal values, the journey to getting to these answers can be filled with discussion, with input from the child- because it is through the child’s input that they come to see the soul of Judaism, not just the immediate answers.
Judaism has “the discipline of thought as well as the discipline of action,” Rabbi Soloveichick so poignantly describes, “. . .[but] Judaism expresses itself not only in formal compliance with the law but also in a living experience . . . that there is a flavor, a scent and warmth to the mitzvot . . .”
And perhaps a key to having this “living experience” is for the child’s thoughts to be respected, and taken seriously in relation to his questions.
When a child asks a question, oftentimes, they have begun formulating an answer. When children feel safe to share this formulation, it can contribute to the journey of arriving to an answer.
As busy parents, this can prove to be quite a challenge. It is quicker- and might also feel ‘safer’- to give an immediate, rushed response to our child’s question, as opposed to exploring the question with them, sometimes allowing complex thoughts and feelings to surface.
An example…
Quick to Answer:
Child: Mommy, why can’t we see Hashem?
Mom: Because He wants us to look for Him.
Encouraging Autonomy:
Child: Mommy, why can’t we see Hashem?
Mom: That’s a great question. Why can’t we see Hashem? What do you think?
In the case of my own daughter, she contributed that maybe Hashem was “testing us.” I agreed with her that it can certainly be a test to listen to what He wants, or for some to believe that He exists.
We discussed this challenge for a while, and then I concluded with the idea, with the concrete value that if we could openly see Hashem, it would not be such a challenge to do the right thing, as it would be obvious that He is watching us, and that He expects us to make the right choices.
But because we have to make choices without seeing Hashem, it is very precious to Him when we do the right thing, because it’s not always easy! And that sometimes it can help to remember how much Hashem loves us, and appreciates how hard it is to do the right thing.
Hopefully, with her input, and a defined answer given in conclusion, she will take this knowledge with her for a lifetime, appreciating the unique flavor that she gives it.
An answer, a value, that is not simply one of mom’s and dad’s, but one she can truly call her own.
ב"ה

devory rosenberg wrote...
Fran Prager wrote...
As the parent of a teenage boy, I am grateful for those magical moments when a single word or a brief comment from him will open up an opportunity for me to plant another seed of my values, given to me from my parents, from Torah and from Judaism.
And it is very hard to have those moments is this crazy - rush rush- cell phone - texting - multitasking- technological world we live in. Finding time to just "hang out" with your child provides the best opportunities for those magical moments. The best example I can think of is when my dad would take me fishing. We would sit there for a long time, being very quiet, just waiting -and waiting and waiting - then BINGO - when you least expect it you get a bite. And that one little opportunity to catch a fish makes all that time you spent patiently waiting worth it.
Rishe Deitsch wrote...
Since five of my kids are married and the others are teenagers already, I know that we have a very brief window of opportunity to pass on values. Ten or twelve years at most. May Hashem help us not to waste those precious years on cell phone calls and what Fran calls the technological world we live in. Thanks, Shula!
Jeovanna wrote...