Concurrent Parshios

Parashas Mishpatim

Zoveach laelohim yacharam bilti lעHashem l'vado ... one who offers to other gods shall be destroyed, one may only [offer] to G-d alone (Shemos 22:19)

There are many methods of categorizing the mitzvot of the Torah: e.g., mitzvos aseh and lo sa’aseh [mitzvos requiring an action or refraining from an action] or bein adam laMakom and bein adam l’chaveiro [between man and G-d and between man and man]. Mitzvos can also be categorized by type. Rav Hirsch refers to three divisions: eidos - ritual mitzvos like taking the lulav and esrog on Sukkos or eating matzah on Pesach - chukim - mitzvos that are ordained by G-d and whose reason is untenable - e.g., parah adumah [the red heifer] or sha’atnez [the prohibition of mixing linen and wool] - and mishpatim - mitzvos necessary for society to function smoothly [e.g., the prohibition of stealing, murder, incest or returning lost objects]. Often, we find entire parshios of the Torah dealing with one area of mitzvos; e.g., our parashah, parashas Kedoshim in Sefer Vayikra, and parashas Shoftim and Ki Tetzeh in Sefer Devarim deal primarily with the area of mitzvos that enable society to govern itself. While there are other subjects that are also presented, there is usually some kind of clear delineation between the areas.

For example, in this week’s parashah, the Torah deals with the laws governing servants, maidservants, murder, accidental death, kidnapping, inflicting injury directly or through one’s property, theft, witchcraft, bestiality, the mitzvah quoted at the beginning of this essay, the proper treatment of converts, collections of loans et al. The Talmud, in a different context, questions whether the juxtaposition of seemingly unrelated laws has any halachic significance and offers a difference of opinion as to whether concurrence of subjects is only significant in Sefer Devarim or has meaning everywhere in the Torah. However, even the opinion that semuchim - juxtaposition of subjects - is only significant in Devarim would agree that this limitation is only in terms of deriving halachot from one area to another by use of hekesh. All would agree that the Torah must have had some reason for the connection between concurrent teachings organized in a single chapter. For example, while the law forbidding witchcraft and the law forbidding bestiality may not share common halachot, the prohibitions themselves are clearly related and it is thus logical why they are taught in one parashah.

However, it is somewhat difficult to understand the connection between the mitzvah of not offering sacrifices to g-ds other than Hashem to the mitzvos that follow of not causing distress to a convert, to a widow or to an orphan. The relationship between the latter three is fairly obvious; each of them has no one to protect their interests and as such, G-d takes special interest in their welfare. Idolatry, however, seems to be totally unrelated to this subject and could have been more logically brought in connection to the mitzvoth of Elokim lo s’kallel venasi b’amcha lo sa’or - You shall not demean Hashem and a prince among your nation you shall not curse (ibid. 22:27).

Ibn Ezra explains that the prohibition of serving idolatry is addressed here to the converts mentioned in the next verse; i.e., you are welcome to join the nation provided that you renounce your ties to other gods. Chizkuni supports this by noting that both witchcraft and bestiality, mentioned beforehand, are attributes of the nations of Canaan , the people most likely to want to convert so as to avoid banishment from their lands or death if they fought.

Ramban strongly rejects this and writes that the reference here is to the Celestial angels who are referred to as Elokim (see Tehillim 86:8) or Eilim (see Shemos 15:11). In his view it is easy to mistake G-d’s powers [the angels] for G-d Himself and make them the object of our worship. We do so because we want to create a G-d with whom we are comfortable, making Him in the image that fits our needs. We prefer a G-d whose vision is limited to the areas where we are not afraid to have our actions exposed. If He is also watching over the converts, widows and orphans, it means that He is Omnipresent and not subject to our whims. This is the essence of the structure of Jewish living and is thus very much at home in this parashah.

ALTARATIONS
Parashas Yisro


Mizbach adamah ta’asu li … v’im mizbach avanim ta’aseh li, lo sivneh eshen gazis … velo sa’aleh v’ma’alos al mizbechi … You shall make an altar of earth for me … and if you make an altar of stone, do not build it out of cut stone … and you shall not ascend my altar using steps … (Shemos 21-23)

Many years ago, I was walking home from shul on Friday night with my then six or seven year old oldest son. He looked up at me and asked the following question: Why does the Torah prohibit ascending the ramp to the altar by using steps whereas we find no similar prohibition in regard to the menorah which was lit by a kohen who ascended three steps. If there is a prohibition of ascending steps during the Divine service because the action causes the robes of the kohen to open and reveal his private parts, should this prohibition not extend to other parts of the service as well?

I had no answer for him and the next morning, when we went to the yeshiva to daven, I proposed that we ask the rosh yeshiva for his opinion. After tefillah we did so and the rosh yeshiva had no ready reply. My son was absolutely amazed that he had managed to stump the rosh yeshiva and that feeling of accomplishment stood him well for quite a few years afterwards. Through the years he has received a couple of answers, none of them completely satisfying. With your indulgence, I’d like to take another stab at it.

Before doing so, however, I would like to pose another series of questions; hopefully, the answers to the latter will help shine light on the former. In this last part of Yisro, the Torah refers to a number of seemingly unrelated restrictions: 1] the requirement to construct the mizbeach from earth rather than stone, 2] when using stone [a requirement in the Tabernacle and Battei Mikdash (see Devarim 27:6)] the requirement to insure that it was not quarried in the usual manner by cutting it with a metal saw. The Torah specifies that this was forbidden since metal is associated with weaponry and is thus unsuitable for use in the area. If so, why is there no similar prohibition regarding the shulchan which was made of wood and theoretically also required cutting? 3] The Torah then specifies that the kohen was not to ascend the altar using steps, for in doing so his robes would open and he would be deficient in his modesty. This would seem to have nothing to do with the previous command? 4] What do these restrictions share other than applying to the mizbeach?

Obviously, the entire Divine service is deeply symbolic. I would suggest that the mizbeach hachitzon [the altar in the Temple/Tabernacle court used for the sacrifices as opposed to the mizbach ha-zahav – the altar inside the kodesh usd for the incense] has a far different symbolic meaning than do the other utensils. The shulchan, mizbeach hazahav and menorah symbolize G-d’s relationship to mankind. The menorah symbolizes Torah and the Divine knowledge and wisdom that has been imparted to mankind. The shulchan represents the bounty of Divine sustenance given to man whereas the mizbeach hazahav – the altar of gold used for the offering of the incense – represents Divine forgiveness for the incense was source for kapparah. All three keilim are symbolic of G-d’s relationship to man - a relationship that changes and is based on each man's standing and understanding. As such, the relationship is far less subject to misinterpretation or perversion.

The exterior mizbeach, on the other hand, represents or symbolizes man’s relationship to G-d, his efforts to bond himself to Hashem through his actions [korbanot]. This bond to Hashem is contingent on a number of factors: it must be precisely as outlined by G-d, for otherwise we have created a god whose parameters, commands and will have been determined by man rather than by G-d. Furthermore, the normal relationship between G-d and man [if one can make reference to a normal relationship] allows for a set of logical circumstances wherein the rules are set aside by other contingencies. For example, halachah allows for the concept of pikuach nefesh wherein the requirements for mitzvah observance are set aside because of an emergency situation. The Talmud seems to imply that the basis for this is logical [chalel alav Shabbos achas k'dei sheyishmor Shabbasos harbeh - violate one Shabbos on his behalf so that he might observe many other Shabbasos]. The exception to this are the three cardinal sins: idolatry, murder and forbidden relations. These are not included because it would seem that it is self-understood that our relationship with G-d is predicated on society being free of these anti-Divine aspects.

The three mitvot outlined at the end of this parashah correspond to these three sins: mizbeach avanim corresponding to idolatry, refraining from using a cutting implement corresponding to killing and no steps corresponding to modesty and forbidden relationships. They only applied to the mizbeach, for it was the altar upon which the korbanot were offered that symbolized man’s desire to draw close to his creator. It is specifically as regards the altar that G-d allows no alterations, for the altar, more than all of the other utensils in the Tabernacle symbolizes the way we view G-d.

May it be His will that we always serve Him in the way that He chose.

THE FEAR FACTOR I
Parashas B’shalach

ha-mibli ein kevarim b’eretz Mitzrayim l’kachtanu lamus bamidbar ... halo zeh hadavar asheer dibarnu eilecha b’Mitzrayim laimor, chadal mimenu v’na’avdah es mitzrayim (Shemos 14:11-12) - are there not enough graves in the land of Egypt that you took us to die in the desert ... this is what we said to you in Egypt when we said: Leave them alone and we will be servants to Egypt!

Rav S. R. Hirsch writes that these pesukim reveal that am Yisrael does not lose its sense of humor or cynicism even in the darkest moments in history. Rashi wonders where the source is that Jews had actually said to Moshe, chadal mimenu v’na’avdah es mitzrayim - leave them alone and we shall be servants to Egypt. He points out that this statement is the implication of the comment made when Moshe and Aharon left Pharaoh’s palace in dejection, having tried to win freedom for the Jews but having worsened their working conditions instead. The pasuk (Shemos 5:21) states: Vayomru ailehem: yeireh hashem aleichem veyishpot asher hivashtem es reichenu b’ainai Pharaoh uv’ainai avadov loses cherev b’yadam l’hargenu - And they [Israel] said to them [Moshe and Aharon]: Hashem shall reveal Himself to you and He will judge, for you have ruined the scent of us in the eyes of Pharaoh and in the eyes of his servants by providing a sword in their hands with which to kill us.

Two questions seem to immediately present themselves; one grammatical, the other logical. Our pasuk, for some reason, changes person in midstream - chadal mimenu - literally, leave him alone in third person singular which then changes to v’na’avdah - and we shall serve in third person plural.

Furthermore, the source that Rashi offers, for you have ruined the scent of us in the eyes of Pharaoh and in the eyes of his servants by providing a sword in their hands with which to kill us, seems to be telling us something entirely different than the quote from our pasuk, leave them alone and we will be servants to Egypt. The former phrase seems to suggest that the Jews were accusing Moshe and Aharon of being failures; you promised that we would be redeemed and all you accomplished was worsening our conditions of servitude. Indeed, Moshe then voiced this very complaint to Hashem. In the latter citation, however, the complaint seems to be that G-d was going to allow them to be killed in the desert and that there was therefore no point in having been redeemed from Egypt. And indeed, Moshe later raises this point when he pleads with G-d not to destroy them at the incident of the golden calf. There he says (32:12): lamah yomru Mitzrayim leimor, b’ra’ah hotziam laharog osom beharim - why should Mitzrayim state that He took them out with evil intent so as to kill them in the hills - a parallel to what the Jews were claiming here.

Perhaps, in our resolution of the first question, we can find a means of dealing with the second. I would like to suggest that the reference in the first phrase -
chadal mimenu - leave him alone - is to Israel as a nation or group whereas the phrase v’na’avdah - and we shall serve - uses the third person plural because it is referring to Jews as a collective of individuals. Whoever was speaking in this pasuk noted that the Jews as a singular nation did not yet exist, they had not yet shed their past identities and taken on their national character which would mold them into a single people who could be referred to in singular. The second phrase therefore refers to them in third person plural, indicating they still needed time in the forge of Egypt, for it was there that the refinement process would take place.

This was the essence also of what the Jews told Moshe when he failed to convince Pharaoh to release them from Egypt. They believed that G-d would one day remove them, the message and promise to their forebears was still clear to them. However, they were not sure that they were ready to begin their mission as a people, and when Pharaoh hardened their work load, that only served to convince them that G-d agreed.

This fear of not being worthy, of lacking the requisite ability or merit, seems to repeat itself throughout Chumash. We find that upon hearing the Divine voice reveal the Torah at Sinai, the people plead with Moshe to serve as the conveyor of the Divine message, for they are concerned that their intrinsic shortcomings may lead them to die. Similarly, we shall iy”h see that this fear factor rears its head at the time of the manna and slav, the m’raglim and the other incidents of rebellion in the desert.

The Kotzker rebbe zt”l is reported to have once said: It is one thing to remove the Jews from Egypt. It is a greater miracle to remove Egypt from the Jews. Part of the legacy of our years of servitude in Egypt is the sense of our being unable to fulfill what G-d expects of us, a fear that can often cause us to become depressed or paralyzed. Little do we realize that by very definition G-d would not expect us to accomplish something that we were physically - or spiritually - incapable of. It’s a message we would do well to consider and share with our children.

ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS
Parashas Bo

V’haya lachem l’mishmeres ad arba’ah asar yom ... And it shall be for safekeeping until the fourteenth day (Shemos 12:6).

Rashi poses a question: Why was it necessary to select the animal used for the first korban Pesach on the 10th of Nisan and watch it until the fourteenth, a requirement that was never repeated? He answers by citing a Mechilta. R. Masya ben Cheresh said: Scripture (Yechezkel 16:8) teaches, And I [G-d] passed over you and I saw you and behold, the time was a time of love - i.e., the time had come to fulfill the vow that I made to Avraham that I would redeem his sons. But they did not have mitzvos in which they were absorbed which would have brought them redemption, as the verse (ibid.) states: and you [Israel] were naked and bare. He [G-d] therefore provided them with two mitzvos - the blood of the Pesach and the blood of circumcision.

Rashi noted that there is a clear difference between the offering of the original korban Pesach and those offered subsequently, a discrepancy that has obvious significance. If we interpret the word l’mishmeres at the beginning of the pasuk as indicating that one had to select the animal a number of days beforehand so as to be sure that the animal was free of any blemishes that would disqualify its use as a korban, why was there no such command in later years when a blemish would also disqualify the animal? That clarified, we might also ask how does the citation from the Mechilta answer the question?

The Mechilta also seems to be somewhat unclear. The first part of the verse suggests that Hakadosh Baruch Hu figuratively looked at His calendar and saw that the time to fulfill His promise to Avraham had arrived. If this was the reason for the redemption, what difference would it make if the nation was naked and bare? Secondly, how do the mitzvos of circumcision and korban Pesach serve to rectify this deficiency anymore than any other mitzvah. If Am Yisrael required something to prove their readiness for redemption, why these two mitzvos? One might suggest that these two were chosen, for they have special import in that they are the only mitzvos aseh for which the punishment for failure to fulfill them is kares. This is somewhat disingenuous, however, for G-d could have chosen to make any of the 246 other mitzvos aseh punishable by kares!

These questions belie a more common one often posed by our children and students. If G-d knows what is going on in my head, if He is truly a yodeia machshavos, why do I need to enunciate my tefillos or even do mitzvos? Interestingly, Rashi [12:13, c.v. v’ra’isi es ha-dam] writes in regard to the commandment that they paint their door posts with blood: Everything is revealed to Him. However G-d says, I use My eyes to see that you are absorbed in My mitzvos and then I pass over you. Clearly, as far as G-d is concerned, actions speak louder than words or thoughts.

One might recognize G-d’s power and even acknowledge His dominion. However, if man is not “absorbed” in the performance of His mitzvos, they are but a fleeting thought that does not bear witness to his essence. The redemption from Egypt was not only time bound in the sense of being dependent upon reaching the appropriate time in history for Israel to begin its Divine mission. It was also bound by the people having reached a level of commitment that takes a demonstration of absorption in mitzvos to prove. Perhaps the mishmeres called for before the offering of the original korban Pesach was not simply to determine whether or not there was a blemish in the animal chosen. It was also a period of time called for to determine that there was no blemish in Am Yisrael - that she was absorbed in mitzvos and thus truly ready for redemption.

Two mitzvos - korban Pesach and circumcision - bear witness to Am Yisrael’s perfection, for they are the two acts that symbolize the special covenant between G-d and man; circumcision on the personal level and Pesach on the national level. It is thus fitting that they are the only mitzvos aseh for which the punishment is kares, for failure to fulfill them is a declaration that I have no connection - either privately or publicly - with the Covenant with G-d. And that Covenant has to be backed by actions, for words by nature cannot create an eternal bond. Just as the bond between man and woman is not accomplished by verbalization but rather, through actual kinyan, so too does the relationship between G-d and man demand action and absorption in His mitzvos.

LESSONS IN DISCIPLINE I
Parashas Va’era

One of the questions dealt with by most of the commentaries pertains to the meaning of hachbadas ha-lev - the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart. To what extent did Pharaoh lose his bechirah chofshis - free will? If he was compelled to act as he did, how could he be punished for refusing to agree to Moshe’s request? Furthermore, what purpose was there in continuing to meet with him and present this request if it was clear and pre-ordained that he would refuse them? Granted that Pharaoh and the Egyptians deserved a special measure of punishment for having overdone the role in serving as the forge through which am Yisrael needed to pass and be purified before beginning their manifest destiny. Understood that the ruler and his people were to serve as the stage for the performance of a set of miracles that would forever impress humanity with G-d’s power and His intervention in history. Nonetheless, why were Moshe and Aharon called to keep on entering into a dialogue that led nowhere? Could they have not just showed up at the royal palace and held a press conference announcing the plague that was about to occur?

Rav Hirsch [especially developed in his commentary to the Pesach haggadah, Nachalat ha-Sar], sees each makah - plague - as one in a series of sets of three designed to uproot Pharaoh’s [and by extension humanity’s] overblown self-confidence and self-reliance. This is alluded to by the inscription on Moshe’s staff of detzach adash b’achav - the acronyms for the plagues. While this may help us understand the necessity of each one of the set which teaches us a different lesson, why the repetition?

Rambam [Hilchos Teshuvah 6:3] seems to suggest that the episode with Pharaoh was meant to teach humanity a critical lesson; man can reach a point through his sins where teshuvah is no longer a possibility. Pharaoh was the vehicle used to deliver this message and thus Hashem hardened his heart and removed his free will to preclude his agreeing to Moshe’s request. Many of the late rishonim seem to object to this view.

Abarbanel writes that it is impossible to conceive that man could reach a point from which there is no return. The essence of the Divine relationship with man is lo echpotz b’mos ha-mes ki im b’shuvo medarko vechayah - I [Hashem] do not desire that the dead [i.e., the sinner] shall die, rather that he return from his path [i.e., teshuvah] and thereby live. However, teshuvah does not necessarily preclude punishment. If a person steals, he must still compensate his victim and not simply rely upon the fact that he has changed his path. By hardening his heart, Abarbanel concludes, Hashem enabled Pharaoh and his people to suffer the punishments that they needed to achieve atonement.

Perhaps there is a somewhat different approach based on an idea that I saw in the Sefer ha-Ikkarim of R. Yosef Albo. When a person does teshuvah after suffering or being punished, there are two reasons why he might have repented; he may seek a means of relieving himself from that suffering and seek to avoid its continuance through teshuvah or he may have seen the correlation between the sin and his suffering and concluded that he needs to repent. Both paths of teshuvah seem to be motivated by his desire to end the suffering, but the former lacks the intellectual acceptance that is at the heart of the latter and that is ultimately an integral part of true teshuvah.

G-d punishes man through midah k’neged midah to demonstrate to man that what happens to him is directly connected to what he does. Moreover, Divine punishment [see what is said to Kayin and to Noach] is portrayed as being ba’avur ha-adam - on behalf of man, rather than being b’glal ha-adam - because of man; i.e., it is meant to bring man to an elevated level of Divine consciousness and is not a reaction to what man has done.

When Moshe and Aharon were first told to go to Pharaoh, they were warned that he would not agree to their request. However, they knew that it was not unlikely that as each makah struck Egypt, he would change his mind about listening to them, not because he accepted G-d’s demand that he do so, but out of fear of what was about to transpire. How oblivious can anyone be to what even the royal magicians saw as being G-d's hand. But G-d hardened Pharoah's, allowing Pharaoh to overcome his fear so that his natural disinclination to allow the Jews to leave Egypt would persist for as long as possible. Moshe and Aharon are commanded to continue their dialogue with Pharaoh to demonstrate that is being given the chance to repent but stubbornly refuses to do so. And Pharaoh is punished because he should have overcome his natural stubborness, for he still maintained his free will.

Ultimately, when we discipline our students or children, we are confronted with the a dilemma. Are they truly remorseful or are they simply trying to avoid further punishment? It takes a great deal of s’yatta dishmaya to be certain, a great deal of wisdom to be able to discern if they got the message. We can only be comforted by the fact that their hearts are hopefully not being hardened by external factors.

FALSE MODESTY
Parashas Shemos

Vayashav Moshe el Hashem, vayomar, Hashem, lamah harei’osa la’am hazeh, lamah zeh shelachtani ... vayomer hashem el Moshe, ata sir’eh asher e’eseh l’Pharoh... And Moshe responded to Hashem and said: G-d, why have You made it worse for this nation, why did You send me? And Hashem answered, now you will see what I shall do to Pharoah (Shemos 5:22-6:1)

Rashi, quoting the Midrash, points out that Hashem silently criticized Moshe for this statement, noting that when Avrohom was told to offer Yitzchak, he did not complain or wonder what G-d was doing [hirhur acher ma’asei] even though it seemed to contradict the promise that Yitzchak would be the continuation of Avraham’s legacy. The comment deserves further explanation, for the situations do not seem to be similar at all. In the case of the akeidah, Avraham could have very well believed that Hakadosh Baruch Hu had changed His mind [which was the case earlier when Avraham only had Yishmael and needed reassurance from Hashem that he would nevertheless have a son through Sarah]. His silence is an indication of his great faith and his willingness to accept a Divine decree.

In this case, Moshe’s complaint was not that the worsening conditions of enslavement could be interpreted as a sign that G-d had figuratively changed His mind about the geulah. That would have been a complaint that would stand in contradistinction to Avraham’s great faith in G-d and would justify eliciting the expression of G-d’s disappointment. In truth, however, Moshe was only voicing a question as to why G-d had allowed the Egyptians to increase the workload, a fact that seemed to pointless in the scheme of the pending geulah. G-d had told Moshe that Pharoah would not listen and Moshe accepted that there would be a process that would include great miracles. This process, however, did not necessitate worsening conditions for the Jews.

Furthermore, as Sifsei Chachamim points out, we find elsewhere [when the Jews worshipped the egel and when Korach rebelled] that Moshe “complains” and in those cases, Hashem does not recall Avraham’s silent faith. Finally, Hashem’s response to Moshe does not seem to answer the question that Moshe posed. Moshe complains why G-d made things worse for the Jews and Hashem answers now you will see what I am about to do to Pharoah. If the question was out of place, don’t answer and if it is a fair question then wouldn’t one expect the response to be something along the lines of “this is a test of am Yisrael’s mettle” or “I am giving them stress so as to reward them at a later date” or “this is a test to weed out those who do not truly believe” - all of these responses that appear elsewhere.

When Moshe is given the role of leading the people out of enslavement, we find that he is extremely reluctant to take on the role. He notes that he is a kvad peh uk’vad lashon, he speaks with a lisp and he is less than eloquent. Clearly, Moshe understood that the geulah was to be accomplished primarily through speech - the miracles of the staff, the tza’raas, changing water into blood and even the plagues were meant to be reinforcements to the message which was the medium through which geulah would come about. Ultimately, G-d wants people who listen to His word because He has spoken, not people who follow because they are impressed with His power [see Rambam in Hilchos De’os: ha’mamin b’Moshe ub’nevuaso biglal nissim she’asah, yesh b’libo dofi - one who believes in Moshe’s prophecies because of the miracles that he did is deficient in his heart]. Thus, when Moshe complains that he lisps and suggests that Hashem find someone else to deliver the message, Hashem is figuratively angry with Moshe, reprimanding him and reminding him rhetorically mi sam peh l’Adam - who is it that has given man the power of speech. Doubting or belittling one’s ability when Hashem has clearly chosen you to undertake a mission is misplaced modesty and ultimately a sign of lack of faith. G-d says that you are capable and you say that you are not? How could a descendent of Avraham - the man of faith - even consider this!

When Moshe complained about the increased workload, he did not mean to say that G-d was acting inappropriately. Rather, he suspected that the reason why this had transpired was because of his ineffectiveness in convincing Pharoah. G-d had told him that Pharoah would be reluctant at first but He had not told Moshe that the conditions of enslavement would also change. Moshe assumed that it was his fault, for it had only taken place once he had begun to raise the question of ending the slavery [mai’az ba’si el Pharoah]. Had G-d allowed Pharoah to worsen their conditions and had then immediately set them free, one could assume that this was all a part of the Divine plan [and perhaps the last part of the fulfillment of the answer to Avraham who had asked b’meh aida ki arishenu - how will I be sure that my children will be worthy - to which Hashem had responded by describing the period of exile which would give them spiritual strength] Hashem sees this as another expression of Moshe’s false modesty, a trait unbecoming the man who has been selected to lead the people out of slavery.

Ki ein bayit asher ein sham meit

In the summer, I received an e-mail concerning an incident that had taken place in Monticello, N.Y. on a motzaei Shabbat. The writer was one of the community activists who had intervened in what he described as a base scene of debauchery that included young women and men from across the spectrum of observant Jewry. To his credit, he ascribed no blame for the incident. Many of the bloggers in our community did not share his reticence and were quite willing to serve as both judge and jury and let their learned comments loose. Their tone suggests that they understand their subject despite their lack of expertise in dealing with teenagers. "I was a teenager, I have sired teenagers, therefore I can analyze the problems of teenagers." The parallel would be: I have a headache, I've given others headaches, therefore I am qualified to perform neurosurgery.

Later, I received a second e-mail from the same source announcing that the problem had been solved. He and a group of askanim had come to the site early, before the parties began. They made arrangements before Shabbat whereby the local pool hall would be for boys and the local bowling lanes for girls. They put patrols in place to guarantee separation and voila, the situation was and is under control.

I have the greatest respect for the person behind the e-mails; he works tirelessly, is very well meaning and has a great deal of real life experience. But like many practitioners, he focuses on the symptoms rather than dealing with the malaise itself. This is not a criticism; his role is to deal with problems once they manifest themselves. However, my experience has been that the problem we are facing as a growing avalanche of kids at risk uses the Catskills as their latest venue, is a fault of the type of schools and families that we have allowed to develop.

As a high school level mechanech for some thirty years, I firmly believe that no-one has complete expertise in understanding teenage behavior; it remains the world's most inexact science. The consolation in dealing with adolescence is that it usually lasts for six years and then miraculously cures itself. That said, I do have a sense, even without statistical data to support my theory, that many readers will agree that the analysis I offer deserves further exploration. A caveat: I begin this diatribe by pointing out that I do not yet have a complete, step-by-step plan for implementing what I feel is the real resolution to the kids at risk phenomenon. Nevertheless, I present it to you and would greatly appreciate your direct feedback.

To begin, I propose that the identification of students as being kids at risk be expanded rather than limited to those who exhibit high risk behavior vis-a-vis alcohol, tobacco or substance abuse. The adolescents throwing rocks or harassing women on busses in Ramat Beit Shemesh are as much a part of this problem as are the kids in Monticello. So too are the students at our mainstream yeshivot who have to appoint a designated driver to take them back to the Beit Midrash after attending weddings. All exhibit conduct unbecoming a Jew and should be called off the derech even if the first group is considered a greater indication of departure from halachic norms than the latter two.

Additionally, I would like to remove from the equation, for the meantime, those adolescents who are clearly at risk because of sociological or psychological factors. Physical, verbal and/or sexual abuse, ADD, ADHD or diagnosable learning difficulties need treatment in and of themselves, and while they are clearly behavioral modifiers, they are often treatable through medication, therapy or various compensations and modifications.

I direct my comments to those adolescents who come from what seem to be stable, loving homes, who have been mainstreamed educationally and who nevertheless just don’t fit in. There are those who blame their departure from the derech to exposure to the internet and to the electronic and print media, blasting them as an evil the extent of which has never raised its head against the innocent youth of our people.

Frankly, I don’t think that the internet, as addictive as it can be [ask any serious blogger’s wife], is the cause of people going off the derech. Rather, once the person has begun to slide down the slippery slope out of Judaism, the internet may function as an outlet for various frustrations or as a means of seeking information that had heretofore been avoided. Drugs and alcohol can be viewed in the same vein: kids experiment because there is a void they are trying to fill. If that void did not exist, or if there was something as fulfilling/satisfying that could fill the void, they would avoid the temptation because they are aware of where it can lead.

In my relationships with adolescents through the years, and in talking to colleagues in the field, I have a sense that the overwhelming majority of kids at risk would like nothing more than to remain within the system. The fact that they experiment, or engage in illicit behavior, is no indication that they have chosen to abandon the derech. I would not be at all surprised if the kids who rented bungalows in Monticello for their weekend of partying [which I am sure included promiscuous behavior and a great deal of chilul Shabbos] nevertheless made kiddush Friday night and made sure that the food was glatt!

Ki ein bayit asher ein sham meit. There is no home in which one will not find someone who is dead spiritually. Reportedly, Dr. Abraham Twerski has named this phenomena SDS - spiritual deficiency syndrome. Intellectually, our schools have been a phenomenal success. In the post-war period we have created a true dor deah. Our kids collectively learn more Mishnayot, more dapei gemara, more rishonim and achronim than previous generations. It is true that previous generations learned more deeply on an individual level - we would be hard-pressed to match the level of Slobodka and Volozhin - but that is because a decision was made in the wake of the Second World War to expand the yeshivot quantitatively at the expense of their quality. Spiritually, however, our yeshivot have become morgues. Little or no time is spent on real mussar; a yeshiva that has a short seder where talmidim who barely understand Hebrew rote-read Sha’arei Teshuvah or Mesilat Yesharim is paying lip service to the idea of mussar. Machshavah and communal responsibility are subjects that are almost never discussed on the high school level. Rav Yaakov Kaminetsky zt”l would often stress in his Thursday afternoon shmuzzen that talmidei yeshiva had an enormous debt to society in return for the opportunities provided them by the ba’alei battim who supported the yeshiva. Is there a single rosh yeshiva who echoes this sentiment today?

Instead of challenging teens within the yeshivot to discuss their feelings about their personal role in the world and to examine their Jewish personna, the mashgiach, mashpia, rosh yeshiva engages in a monologue focusing on how awful general society is and how superior we are as Jews. This often confounds the young man - or woman - who hears that he or she is a member of an am hanivchar but doesn’t really know what that implies or means. If he is superior, is he wrong in acting like a behemah when he burns garbage cans to protest infringements on his royal territory? When his mind has been distorted by years of hearing about his entitlement, is it any surprise that he relates to a woman like a cockroach and will shove her to the back of the bus if she invades his turf, because he ranks higher in the pyramid of life. Moreover, the talmid or talmidah often looks at their surroundings and wonders in which way is he or she really superior? In ethical behavior, in the treatment of his environment?

What transpires in the beit midrash when the rosh yeshiva or mashgiach tells the student that tefillah raises him to a level of kirvat Elokim that is the greatest source of joy that man can experience? A percentage of kids will accept this without even needing further elaboration, for they are endowed with a natural sense of spirituality that can recognize the satisfaction of a relationship with G-d. Another percentage wait for the speaker to demonstrate how this is possible and when he fails to do so, are frustrated but not yet ready to throw it all away. And then there is a percentage who say that the words of the teacher are empty phrases and when they recall them, deem them to be completely out of touch.

I have heard many speakers talk to high school students in Israel and the U.S. Those who made the greatest impact were the ones who understood that they were not standing in the beit midrash in Baranovich or Kaminetz. Those who had the least impact were those who were either back in Eastern Europe or who walked into the beit midrash poorly prepared to face reality. I recall one speaker in particular, an entertaining and eloquent man who called me after his presentation to ask for my critique. He could not understand why I felt that his talk had been a disaster. I found that his cynical attempts to denigrate popular culture had backfired whereas he felt that he had struck responsive chords because he had elicited so much laughter. Little did he realize that he had caused great damage because his remarks were so obviously based on a limited information bank. I would suggest, for example, that these type of rabbis avoid historical issues unless they are truly well versed in the fields they mention. There’s almost nothing more shattering to a teenager than hearing someone whom they are told to respect reveal his foolishness or ignorance. Kids are extraordinarily adept at discerning when the emperor is wearing no clothes.

A recent conversation with a young man who is no longer at risk, for he has completely left the derech, was an eye opener for me. I asked him why assimilating the worst of general culture was so seductive; e.g., multiple body piercing, tattoos, emulating gangs by adopting their greetings and hand communications, contemporary music motifs and language patterns borrowed from rap/ebonics. He answered with one word: passion. I then realized that this young man, driven away from our faith despite having received an excellent yeshiva education, viewed Judaism as something dry and suffocating, for his soul had never been developed. Without passion our souls cannot thrive and without our souls our bodies are seduced by general culture. Passion for what we do and finding real meaning in our mitzvos and learning is the only antidote to the malaise.

In pharmacological research there is a stage wherein an antidote has been developed and even field tested but is not ready for mass distribution because the manufacturer has not yet managed to synthesize it and thus make its production economically viable. I feel that the same is true in dealing with SDS - spiritual deficiency syndrome. We know what will work, we simply have not yet developed the means to inoculate as many people as possible. The challenge to do so is twofold: to those engaged on the battlefields and to those who stay back and provide the financial support. Until we develop a method of producing passionate talmidim, we will remain mired in expressing compassion for those who have left the fold.