Cultivating the Next Generation

MyLife Essay Contest

The Problem

 “Will my daughter marry Jewish, like I did?”

 “Will my son go regularly to the synagogue, like I do?”

 “Will my children have the same feelings towards the Rebbe that I have?”

 Across the spectrum of Jewish affiliations, parents wrestle with the same dilemma: How can I ensure that the passion and dedication that I have towards my Judaism will be transmited to my children? Are these Seder nights, Hebrew schools or farbrengens doing what they are supposed to be doing? Because once my child is old enough to make his own decisions, he will be beyond my reach. Someday, I may be that parent, standing from afar, questioning what I could have done differently.

This essay will begin by examining the nature of hierarchical transmission—the flow of ideas from a primary level to a subsequent level. After pinpointing the inherent limitations of the system, two solutions will be suggested. Through this educated understanding, we can focus our child-rearing efforts on an effective methodology, thereby cultivating the next generation to be self-motivating and enthusiastic Jews.

The Behavior of Transmission

In simple terms, the entire objective of Kabbalah and Chassidus is to bridge the gap between G-d and man. In the beginning, reality comprised of a single, infinite entity; now we have a finite world replete with variety. How could such an impossibility have occurred? Yet, if we can somehow craft a logical structure explaining this paradox—how the finite emerged from infinite—then mortal man can work backwards and reach the eternal G-d.

The rubric of Kabbalah is that of a hierarchy of worlds. At the top of the structure is the world of atzilus, utterly ethereal in substance. Through a series of cascading emanations, our physical world of asiyah is formed. If atzilus is spiritual and asiyah is physical then what, precisely, occurred to cause such a result? Which aspects of atzilus successfully cascaded down into our world, and why did certain elements fail to make it?

Based on Eitz Chaim by Rabbi Chaim Vital, Chassidus¹ presents a simple rule for how any given instance of transmission occurs:

The pnimius of the upper world becomes the makif of the lower world, and the chitzonius of the upper world becomes the pnimius of the lower world.

Let us do a careful reading of the above passage, since this contains the crux of hierarchical transmission. Pnimius means ‘internality’ or the inwardness of an entity. For example, a person’s pnimius refers to his thoughts and feelings that are embedded within him. By contrast, chitzonius means ‘outwardness’ – the external manifestation of the entity. In a person, this would be the outward expression of his thoughts and feelings. Makif refers to the abstract inclination and can be translated as ‘motivation.’ For example, when a person feels drawn to a particular piece of art, the attraction is not caused by an astute cognition but by an undefined inclination.

Juxtaposing the hierarchical model of the Kabbalistic worlds onto the hierarchy of the parent-child relationship, we can understand this passage to mean:

The thoughts and feelings of the parent become the abstract inclination of the child; The outward expressions of the parent become the thoughts and feelings of the child.

This is to say, we can have an intense devotion to Judaism, but that will only get translated to the child’s peripheral reality; it will never become his personal drive. His internal identity is solely based on our external expression of our Jewish consciousness. To give an analogy of a teacher and student²: a teacher has a crystallized comprehension of a particular subject and he wants to convey his knowledge to the student. It is not possible to pluck the knowledge out of his own brain and implant it into his student’s cranium. Instead, he relies on language to explain the idea; he uses graphs and diagrams to depict it visually; he questions and quizzes until he feels that the student has grasped it. But is the student’s knowledge identical to his own? Not at all. Words and diagrams cannot fully encompass the brain’s cognition—and the student’s access to this knowledge lay solely on these externalities.

It follows, then, that the system of parental transmission is destined for deterioration, since the child’s personal zeal is inefficiently derived from an emanation. Nevertheless, by pinpointing this pattern, when we do see our children expressing a more diluted Judaism than we harbor, instead of being panic-struck, we can at least understand why. Transmission is not channeled through our hearts or minds, but through what we do and say. And that can never quite capture the intensity of the soul.

Short-range Solution: Invest in Emanation

The most obvious solution to this default is to populate our lives with plentiful communications of Jewish identity. Every moment of our waking day is filled with expressions. We walk, talk, work, eat, browse internet, play games, schmooze, laugh, cry… These are all emanations of who we are, and these are all the elements our children will internalize and subsequently model from us. Therefore, the more ways we can articulate our Judaism – the more we can talk about it, sing about it, eat around it – the more fodder our children will have to cultivate their own identities.

Long-range Solution: Facilitate a Creation

The above method, while certainly pedagogically sound, is still bound by the limitations of emanations. No matter how much effort we invest into increasing the quality and clarity of our Jewish lifestyle, ultimately we are limited to what can be expressed. Our internal passions will always remain abstract to the next generation. Thankfully, there is yet another means of transmission which bypasses these parameters. For this we need “etzem”.

Etzem means essence, the life-blood of an entity. It is neither a thought nor a feeling but a thing³; it cannot be transferred through pictures, gestures or words. It is our very substance that cannot, by definition, be communicated to someone else⁴.

Yet, while etzem is unable to be ‘emanated’—or expressed—to someone else, it can actually be physically transferred to another⁵ . We see quite literally that a husband and wife can talk endlessly and fervently about having and raising children, but the creation of another human being—a child composed of one’s essence, bearing one’s own DNA—will only occur through a physical act of procreation. Even more so, when that etzem emerges within the child, not only is there no qualitative loss, but the next generation can even surpass the previous one. The Rashab interprets the sages’ proverb “Yafeh koach haben mikoach haav– The abilities of the son are greater than the abilities of the father” to imply that, in fact, a child may nurture and develop his etzem to better effect than his own parents.

Returning to our investigation: if the transmission of etzem is so potent, how can we use this model for Jewish child-rearing? The answer is very simple. Etzem is transmitted through physical creation. Therefore, Jewish education must include extensive opportunities for physical creation. Don’t only sing with your child, but encourage him to compose; don’t only give your child what to read, but guide her to write; if your child is inspired by a Chasidic story, help him paint it. Transmitting etzem does not happen through the child modeling after the parent, but by the parent facilitating the child to create.

Practical Implementations

 At Home: Think about your preschooler coming home before Chanukah proudly brandishing his garishly-painted, bottle-cap menorah. The excitement and sense of ownership!

Yet, as we mature, we decline in producing and increase in consuming. As a family, replace as much of your store-bought Judaica as possible with hand-made items. The Sunday before Chanukah, build a family menorah; craft mezuzah cases; design your own meat/dairy stickers for the kitchen — simply have fun personalizing all the Jewish objects in your life.

In School: Have creation be an intrinsic part of the Jewish day school curriculum. From the youngest grades through high school, encourage children to write creatively about their Torah learning. This can include the whole gamut of language arts: from historical fiction and mystery thrillers, to research and chidushei Torah.  When learning concrete halachos, include modeling and construction projects. Additionally, it is imperative that Jewish schools implement sophisticated art and technology programs for both boys and girls. A boy may know a hundred pages of gemara, but this is derived from his teacher’s chitzonios. Have him build a light-up mezuzah case sporting a touch-sensor and you have generated a passionate Jewish etzem.

In conclusion then, by remaining complacent, indeed the next generation will retain weaker values than ours. But by enhancing our outward behaviors — our emanations, and by promoting creative opportunities — our etzem, then G-d willing our children will be more vibrant than we could ever be.