Ish is a man, a distinguished man, a gavra, as translated by Targum Onkeles. The translation rendered by the popular translator transforms the word ish into av. For our purposes, I will use the word ish as a springboard for understanding the profundity of the pasuk. Fathers are human beings and, as such, influenced by their emotions. Many spend their time, money and health to provide their children with the finest material and spiritual advantages. Thus, it is not unreasonable for a parent to be entitled to some return in the way of Yiddishe nachas. Understandably, when this does not occur, especially when a child acts up and literally throws everything with which his parents have provided him with into a life of wasted opportunities, that the parent would reasonably be hurt, annoyed, angry, fuming – all depending on the parent’s personality. The reaction at first is chastisement, but how the parent delivers it marks the difference between a parent/father and a gavra/ish.
A father might react subjectively, “How dare you act in such a disgusting manner after all I/we have done for you? Where is your hakoras hatov, appreciation, gratitude? Do you think money grows on trees? Do you have an inkling what your education has cost us? Do you have any idea what we have given up to provide for you?” And the list goes on.
As a result, what should have been a loving chastisement, ends with the father getting carried away and injecting his personal emotions into the discipline. This does not only not benefit his son, but it is also counter intuitive. A discipline born of frustration, punishment rooted in anger, is exactly the last thing this boy needs – or can handle. A father’s rebuke must be one that solidifies a relationship, reflects a bond that is intrinsic, unbreakable and filled with love. A son is not an outsider being corrected; he is part of the father himself. The chastisement should not be one of rejection – but an expression of connection.
In a perfect world, this is how it would be. However, as I prefaced my words, I realize that fathers and mothers are human and can take just so much. So what does one do when he must chastise his child? He should act like an ish – objectively, as a man disconnected personally from the situation. No pain – no emotion – just simple talk, encouragement and a road map to return home.
Nonetheless, a father must never forget his duty – regardless of the pain associated with it. A teacher rebukes a student to correct behavior. A judge punishes a defendant as a means of upholding justice. A father chastises his son to build a future. Life’s difficulties are challenges that can take a toll on one’s life and relationships. Our Torah guides us in navigating these challenges. Tzaar gidul banim, the “pain” associated with raising children can take a toll – but the nachas we derive washes away any difficulty. We must be patient. Hashem is that way with us. He is patient. Veritably, we have caused Him “pain,” but, as a loving Father, He does not issue the verdict as a judge, but rather, guides us to improvement. He sees beyond what we are to what we can become.
When one offers rebuke properly, it is one of the most sensitive areas of human interaction. A person’s heart is vulnerable, and his sense of dignity is easily affected. No one is comfortable when others tell him where he has fallen short, even when the criticism is justified. Indeed, even well-meaning words can cause pain if they are not expressed thoughtfully and with sensitivity.
Nevertheless, the Torah obligates us in tochachah, rebuke. This teaches us that we should not avoid necessary rebuke, but we must give it correctly. The distinction between harmful criticism and constructive rebuke is, not only in what we say, but in how we say it and the intent behind it.
When we offer rebuke with care and genuine concern, the subject of the rebuke senses this and responds positively. Indeed, rebuke administered in such a manner does not create distance, but rather, strengthens a relationship. It can inspire growth and serve as the impetus for the subject to change his life trajectory.
Not all rebuke must be administered. At times, we can give rebuke with such care that the subject does not realize until later on that he had been given a message concerning his behavior. Someone had the foresight to understand that, in his case, he might interpret any direct conversation in the wrong way. The following story, of which I have seen many variations, underscores this idea. I like this version best.
A young, novice rebbe was starting his journey in the world of chinuch. He approached a senior rebbe who had been a successful educator, having inspired students of all stripes. The younger rebbe began the conversation, “Shalom Aleichem. I was your student thirty years ago.” The senior rebbe replied, “Forgive me if I do not remember you. What is your name?”
After they exchanged pleasantries, the younger rebbe said, “I teach in a cheder. It was my vocation of choice because of you.” “I am grateful, but I do not remember any incident in which I interacted with you in an extraordinary way,” the senior rebbe replied.
The young rebbe replied, “Let me remind you of a story, and then you will understand.
“When I was a young boy in cheder, one of my classmates — who had not yet become bar mitzvah— received an expensive watch. In those days, no one had a watch before they turned bar mitzvah. Only if they came from a wealthy family would they receive a watch as a gift. All my classmates gathered around him to see the new watch. We were all jealous. During the break, the boy put the watch on his desk and, when he returned, the watch had disappeared. You came into the classroom and told us that whoever took the watch must return it. Of course, no one did. Then you told us to stand by the wall with our eyes closed, and you checked our pockets one by one until you came to me and found the watch in my pocket. I was sure I would get in big trouble but, to my surprise, you took the watch without anyone noticing, sat back in your chair, and said to the other boys, ‘I want you to know that the watch was not stolen; one of the boys who was struggling with his yetzer hora took it. We have to give him the opportunity to fix what he did. This boy is not a thief, and he is not a bad boy.’
“I was so relieved that you told everyone to close their eyes, so they would not know it was me. I thought that, later on, you would take me to the side and reprimand me. I waited for you to confront me, but, as the days went by, you did not mention anything to me. After some time, no one remembered the incident. And I was so amazed that I thought to myself that, if this is what it means to be a rebbe, then I would also want to be a rebbe in cheder. That is why I became a melamed.”
“Do you remember the incident? Do you remember that it was me who took the watch?”
The old rebbe replied, “No, I do not remember.”
“How come the rebbe does not remember? The rebbe saw it was me!”
“I did not see,” said the rebbe, “because my eyes were also closed…”
This defines a rebbe and the quality of Torah chinuch as opposed to its secular counterpart. A rebbe does not see the bad in his students. He sees his struggles, and he attempts to help. He does not see negative activity – only the yetzer hora at work. With such objectivity, one is able to focus on the student – not on his own personal ego. Likewise, a mochiach, one who rebukes, must focus on the sin – not the sinner. Otherwise, he has no business rebuking – or teaching, for that matter.
