Discipline, reward and punishment is a critical part of the educational process. An astute and caring parent knows when and how much to discipline and how to be certain that it is an act of love. When a child senses his parent’s love, the discipline takes on a different image. If the parent metes out the punishment with anger or worse, the child will harbor a sense of fear, or an unpleasant attitude toward that parent. The first mechanech, Torah educator, was Avraham Avinu. Indeed, the paradigmatic pasuk describing Hashem’s love for Avraham is based upon Avraham’s devotion toward transmitting the Torah, its mitzvos and middos, character traits, to future generations. Ki Yedativ l’maan asher yetzaveh es banav v’es beiso acharav; “I have cherished him, because he commands his children and his household after him” (Berieshis 18:19). Rashi notes the use of lashon hoveh, the present tense, yetzaveh. (Although yetzaveh is in lashon asid, the future tense, it is used here in the present tense.) Rashi supports his interpretation of yetzaveh as expressing the ongoing present with a pasuk in Sefer Iyov, Kachah yaaseh Iyov, “So would Iyov do” (Iyov 1:5).
The use of the present tense is enigmatic, considering that, as of that time, Avraham had no progeny to command/teach. Yitzchak had not yet been born. Furthermore, if Rashi wanted to support the idea that yetzaveh, which is future tense, can still imply present tense, why did he cite a pasuk from Sefer Iyov? Other instances exist in the Torah in which something which takes place in the present is written in the future tense.
Horav Doniel Alter, Shlita, explains that Rashi is intimating a crucial requisite with regard to Torah chinuch. The primary foundation of successful chinuch is that the father educate himself in the present – before he educates his child. The best, most enduring form of chinuch, is example. It is not uncommon for parents to be lenient with themselves, while making strict demands on their children. They want their children to learn and daven, come on time, not talk during davening, and act as a ben Torah should act. Unfortunately, some of these parents serve as poor role models, almost to the point of hypocrisy for their children.
The parents who says, “Do as I say – not as I do,” undermines his own message. Words alone do not build a child. Consistency does. Chinuch is not limited to instruction; it is defined by how a parent lives. A child is always watching, absorbing what he sees and forming his values accordingly.
A father who speaks about the importance of learning Torah, yet his own sefer remains closed, sends a clear message. A mother who reiterates the importance of patience and pleasant interaction, yet reacts with anger, is unfortunately showing by example that she is either two-faced or a very weak person. The child, while young, does not analyze the contradiction his/her parents display, but simply learns from it. In his mind, talk is cheap; actions define the real person.
This creates a subtle, but lasting problem. A child may listen, comply, and even succeed. Outwardly, everything appears in the appropriate place. Internally, however, he follows the example he has observed. When he grows older and independence sets in, he will choose, not the ideals he was told, but rather the life he observed. What he has witnessed becomes his standard.
This is the meaning of V’shinantam l’vanecha. Chinuch requires more than teaching; it requires imprinting. This is achieved through steady, consistent example. A parent does not need to be perfect, but he must be sincere. Direction matters more than perfection.
When a child sees a parent working on himself – controlling his temper, speaking with care, making time for Torah despite difficulty – he observes what growth looks like. He understands that avodas Hashem is real and ongoing. This becomes part of who he is.
If a gap exists between words and actions, the child will follow the actions. This is not rebellion; it is imitation. A child naturally wants to resemble his parents. A parent’s task is clear. To raise a child with certain values, he must live those values himself. The strongest influence in the home is not what the parents say, but what they do, the modeling they present.
Avraham Avinu lived this verity. Long before Yitzchak Avinu was born, Avraham was being mechanech himself – in preparation. We now understand why Rashi cites the pasuk from Sefer Iyov. He, too, was offering korbanos for his sons, in the event they had sinned. Why did he not command them directly to bring the sacrifices? He felt that, by improving himself, he was educating his sons. He acted in the present, so that his sons would have an appropriate future.
After writing this, I took a step back and looked around at the not so few fathers who, for whatever reason, do not themselves serve as examples of those to whom Torah and tefillah play a pivotal role. Yet, they want their sons/daughters to do better, to grow up in a way in which the parents’ errors will not guide their lives, but rather, serve as an inspiration for improvement.
Let us take a candid look at such a father. He knows he is sending mixed messages. He demands one standard from his son, while his own behavior reflects another. The question is obvious: Does this disqualify him as a mechanech? I do not think so. A parent who struggled in his own youth, who did not find success in learning or davening, still knows what is right. Awareness does not disappear because one has failed to live up to it. On the contrary, sometimes failure sharpens that awareness. He does not want his son to repeat his mistakes. That desire is real, and it is valid.
The issue at hand is not if he may expect more from his child. The issue is how he communicates that expectation. Surely, the father is no fool. He cannot expect perfect behavior from his son if he, in fact, is doing everything to contradict his own expectations. All he will achieve is to create greater struggle for his son to deal with. If the father is honest and addresses the situation with sincerity and humility, however, his words can have a powerful effect.
“Son, I want to speak to you and share with you something that has been troubling me for quite some time. At first, I wanted to gloss over it, but then I realized that this would not be fair to you. You deserve the truth, and you deserve to be granted every opportunity to grow up to be a G-d-fearing, Torah committed ben Torah.
“Unfortunately, when I was your age, I did not take Torah study and davening seriously. The school passed me along through the system, not really caring one way or another. My parents were not happy with my choices. The school told them it was a phase that would pass. To discipline me now would only cause me to rebel and renege Judaism completely. How wrong they were! Had I been put in my place compassionately – but firmly – I would not be where I am today. I let those years pass. Today, I regret that decision. I want more for you. Do not repeat my mistakes. Build what I did not build.”
Such words, when a caring parent expresses them genuinely, carry weight. They are the words of a father sharing the truth. Nonetheless, words alone will not effect the desired results. The father must put action behind those words. He must demonstrate that he means what he says. He need not be perfect, but he must expend effort.
“I will no longer hang out in the hall schmoozing, while you sit in shul, alone, like an orphan. During the week, my business makes great demands on my time, but, on Shabbos, we will learn together.” When a child hears this, a renewed respect emanates from him toward his father. He no longer sees contradiction, but struggle. No longer does he see hypocrisy, but growth.
