Permission to Believe (in Yourself)

When I was a new parent, I was determined to do everything “right.” I was convinced that if I read enough parenting books, the wisdom would implant itself from the pages straight into my brain. I read every new parenting book that came on the market.

Some of the books were helpful. But many were contradictory and left me more confused than before. There were as many different methods and approaches as there were books. I started to wonder what made someone a parenting expert after all. And why didn’t my children respond magically the way the kids in the books did?

Finally I reached a point where I’d had enough. I was not going to touch another parenting book.

I realized that I was looking for answers everywhere except within myself. Nobody knows my family and my children better than I do. I had the answers inside of me, I just had to start believing they were there.

As mothers, we are prone to losing faith in ourselves. Judgment from outsiders is almost unavoidable. Many mothers feel they can’t get through a day without someone—a teacher, a neighbor, an in-law—pointing out how their parenting is wrong in some way. The hardest critic, though, lives inside of us. We may have an ideal image in mind of the parent we want to be, and it’s frustrating and demoralizing when we can’t meet that standard.

It’s natural not to want to persevere at a task when we don’t feel successful at it. When we don’t feel good about ourselves as parents, the results are disastrous. If being with our kids makes us feel like a failure, the result is we don’t want to spend time with our kids.

If you are someone who works with parents in any capacity—a teacher, a speaker, a parenting “expert”—the greatest gift you can give a parent is to help them build confidence in themselves. And by doing so you will be doing a favor for their children too.

In the eighteen years I’ve been a mother, I have been through many phases. I have been a full time stay-at-home mother, a part-time working mother, and a full-time working mother. I have breastfed and bottle-fed, I have had hospital births and homebirths. Having lived through each of these phases, I know that as our circumstances change, our parenting style may change as well. I am less likely to be critical of mothers and their parenting choices, because I’ve probably done it too at some point. I have come to realize that there is no single right way of doing things.

A friend of mine told me that for years she felt inadequate because she never took her children on trips during school vacations. The thought of schlepping them all over town on busses and trains was overwhelming for her. Instead they’d stay home and do arts and crafts projects.

When she told me this I had to laugh, because I’m the mother who spends every vacation schlepping my kids on trips all over the city. The thought of having them run riot with arts and crafts supplies all over the house makes me feel dizzy.

Becoming a better parent can be as simple as believing that you’re an effective parent. The psychological term is “self-efficacy,” meaning that you believe you have the skills and abilities to cope with whatever life (and your kids) throws at you. Children sense when we really believe in what we are saying and doing. When we trust ourselves, our children trust us.

Believing in yourself doesn’t mean that you have the answer to every question on the spot. You recognize when a problem is beyond your ability to cope and you’re not afraid to go outside yourself to seek support – whether from family, friends, teachers, mashpiim, community organizations or mental health specialists.

Surround yourself with people who respect you and believe in you, but will also be honest with you. Keep a distance from people who are hyper-critical and are always giving unsolicited advice. If people feel they have to make comments about your parenting choices, the best response may be to give a big smile, say, “Thank you!” and move on.

Having a mashpia is essential. Choose carefully – a mashpia should help you build confidence in yourself, not foster an unhealthy dependence. Parenting support groups can be invaluable, but sometimes a mother’s group can be a highly competitive environment with a lot of guilting and shaming of mothers who don’t conform to a particular parenting style. Choose a group that is warm and accepting of different parenting styles.

People have different standards and priorities. For one woman, the most important thing may be having a spotless house, while for another it may be saying Chitas or playing creative games with her kids.

It’s up to you to choose your own standards. Prioritize. Changing even one aspect of life is difficult, a tremendous investment of time and effort. Decide what has to be fixed now and what can be tackled at a later time. Don’t worry about the judgment of people who have different priorities.  

Role Models

I have many different parenting role models. Every time I pass a mother on the street and get that twinge, “Why can’t I be more like her?” she becomes my instant role model for the day.

A role model does not have to be someone you feel comfortable discussing your life with, or someone whom you’d like to emulate in every aspect. For that matter, she does not have to be someone you know very well, or know at all! Any time you notice something you admire in someone else – they are your role model for that moment. Take note of it. Jot it down. Even if you initially felt inadequate around this person. Turn it around. What is it that you admired? What are they doing you can learn from?

We see bits and pieces of people’s lives. We see Chanie whose sheitel always looks perfect and Gittel who speaks so patiently to her children and Rivka who never skips Chitas and Devorah who is always doing marvelous projects with her kids, and somehow we put all these different people together and imagine a single supermom who is doing everything perfectly. But it is not a real person we are imagining. It is a phantom. In reality everyone has their own struggles.

Once I was in the pizza shop with my kids, and at the table behind us there was a mother with four rowdy little boys. Trying to keep them under control, she looked over at my boys and said, “Why can’t you eat nicely like those    kids over there?” Little did she know that just a month before, in the very same shop, my perfectly behaved tzaddik emptied all the drinks out of the shop’s refrigerator case, to the consternation of the storeowner and other customers.

Stop Using the Word Failure

We need to stop using terms of disrespect when we talk about ourselves or about other mothers.

“She lets her kids walk all over her.”

“These kids are out of control.”

“This house is a pig-sty.”

Every mother, even the most “incompetent” and “out-of-control” one, has served countless meals and washed countless loads of laundry and woken up countless nights to take care of a baby or sick child. I’m not talking about extreme cases of neglect or abuse. I’m talking about the mothers we all love to bash, the mothers eating themselves up with guilt over their perceived failures – the mother who gives in to tantrums, or lets them stay up too late, doesn’t serve enough fresh vegetables, or talks on the phone when she should be reading to them.

Don’t globalize the problem. If you have trouble getting your kids to put away toys, you have trouble getting kids to put away toys. If your kids won’t eat their vegetables, they won’t eat their vegetables. It does not mean you are sloppy, neglectful, lazy or a pushover. Words like these trigger our parental anxieties and turn small, manageable problems into raging power struggles.

Parenting is a tough job. Some people have more support, more energy or more money than others. Every mother is doing her best. You may be passionate about a certain aspect of parenting and find it shocking and horrifying that there are parents in this world who don’t care about it as much as they should. Rest assured that those parents care about their children very much, and perhaps there are things you do that they find equally abhorrent. If you feel that you must speak up about a certain issue, there are ways to do it with respect and sensitivity, in a way that acknowledges the mother’s ongoing efforts.

I once attended a parenting class where the speaker said, “There is no reason that the beds should not be made every morning!” Instantly I thought of at least ten valid scenarios where the beds might not be made. I have no issue with the sentiment itself—I fully agree that taking five to ten minutes a day to do simple chores can make the rest of the day much less stressful. I do object to the way the message was delivered.

Does Self-Acceptance Lead to Laziness?

If we relax, become less self-critical, does that mean that we accept low standards and poor parenting? Shouldn’t we expect more of ourselves?

Relaxing our own self-judgment doesn’t mean we relax our standards. It means recognizing that we are imperfect beings who are striving to do the best we can. We don’t have to wait to feel good about ourselves until our goals are met. We need to start feeling good about ourselves now—and then we will have the strength and confidence we need to become better.

As mothers, we know our job is important. We know that it matters when we remember a child’s request and keep our word. We know it matters when we listen patiently when our child wants to tell us something. We know that anger and yelling can damage a child’s sensitive spirit. But do we need to live in fear of ruining a young life in order to do our jobs properly? We can live b’simchah, confident in the knowledge that we are doing the best we can for each child, trusting in Hashem to guide us and give us the intelligence, sensitivity and strength we need.

What Parents Really Need

There is a well-known minhag that when we bring a child to cheder for the first time, we throw candies and tell the child that Malach Michoel threw them. In a sichah of Shavuos 5745, Rebbe asks, how do we introduce a child to Torah learning by telling him something that is not true?

Because this is such a widely accepted minhag, it must be that what we tell the child is true according to Torah as well. The Rebbe explains that kol hascholos koshos, all beginnings are difficult, and it takes extra kochos to overcome the initial resistance. Therefore we shower the child with extra love and closeness, to make his initiation to learning pleasant. When we say that Malach Michoel threw the candy, this is the truth. The source of the blessing is Malach Michoel, and the parents are his messengers. Since a young child is attracted to small things like candy, this is what we give him. But these gifts we give contain within them the higher powers that are needed for the education of that child.

To take this a step further, as parents we also need great gifts and great siyata di’shmaya to embark on the all-embracing job of educating our children. In order to make ourselves a keli for these blessings, we need to take a kinder look at ourselves and at others. And in this way we will draw upon ourselves Hashem’s brochos, brochos b’chein, b’chesed u’verachamim—with grace, kindness and mercy.

Twelve Pesukim: 12 Tools for Life

A New Look at the Psycho-Social Stages of Development in Light of the 12 Psukim

By Chaya Shuchat, based on a speech by Miriam Leah Laufer

Mazel Tov! Your baby is born, completely helpless and dependent on you for every need. It is now your job to raise this child into a healthy, independent adult with strong chassidishe values. Quite an awesome undertaking and many of us feel woefully unequipped.

On Rosh Chodesh Iyar 5736 (1976), in two sichos, the Rebbe introduced six psukim and taught how they are fundamental to the chinuch of every Jewish child. The first two are from Tanach, the next two are maamarei Chazal, and the next two are from Tanya. During the Lag B’Omer parade that same year, the Rebbe introduced another set of six, following the same pattern: two from Torah sheb’chsav, two from Torah sheb’al peh, and two from the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. The order of the psukim was not random but carefully structured by the Rebbe. In the above two sichos the Rebbe explains how these psukim are essential tools in the development of a Jewish child. The Rebbe urged us to teach these psukim to our children and repeat them at every opportunity.

Each passuk is a guidepost, showing us the way through each stage of a child’s development. 

1. Torah: Identity

תורה צוה לנו משה מורשה קהילת יעקב

The Torah that Moshe commanded us is the heritage of the congregation of Yaakov. (Devarim 33:4)

The first developmental task of a child, from the moment it is born, is to develop a sense of its own identity. A baby lives within its mother for nine months, and for the first few months after birth it still sees itself as an extension of its mother. Gradually it learns that there is an outside world, separate from itself. A child’s experiences during infancy set the stage for its emotional development for life.

The Rebbe emphasized that from the moment a child is born, we surround the child with psukim of Torah. The first passuk that we teach a child, the one we sing to a baby when it first awakens to the world, is Torah tzivah. 

Why this one? Why not Bereishis—the first passuk in Torah?

The expression used in this passuk is morashah—inheritance. There are three ways of acquiring something—we can buy it, receive it as a gift, or inherit it. When we buy something we are limited by how much money we have. A gift, too, has certain limits, since what we receive depends on our relationship with the giver. You give a bigger gift to someone you’re close to than to a casual acquaintance. You also would not give the same gift to a five-year-old child as to an adult. But with inheritance, there are no limits. You do not have to do anything to earn it, and the size or value of the inheritance is not in proportion to the person. The first life lesson we teach our children is that the Torah is a morashah—it is our inheritance and cannot be taken away. The Torah is what defines us—this is our identity.

2. Shema: Security

שמע ישראל הוי' אלקינו הוי' אחד

Hear O Israel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One. (Devarim 6:4)

When children reach the age of one or two, they enter the exploratory phase. They learn to walk and climb and do many other things independently. They want to look and touch and taste and feel everything. As their world expands, children begin to realize that the world can actually be a scary place. Children need to have a secure base, a secure attachment to their parents, to feel safe enough to explore the world.

The second passuk, Shema, instills in children the awareness that Hashem surrounds them at all times. No matter where they go, Hashem is with them. The Shulchan Aruch states that when we say the word echad, we should have in mind that Hashem is one (alef) in the seven heavens plus earth (eight, the gematria of ches), and in all four directions (gematria of daled). This gives a child a tremendous sense of safety and security. I can leave the nest and learn to be independent—because Hashem is always with me.

3. Bechol: Initiative

בכל דור ודור חייב אדם לראות את עצמו כאילו הוא יצא ממצרים

In every generation one must look upon himself as if he personally had gone out of Egypt. (Pesachim 116b) 

During the pre-school years, ages three to five, children develop many new skills. They learn to color, to use scissors and glue, to build things out of Legos and blocks. They are not just moving for the sake of movement—they have a goal in mind and are learning to plan the steps needed to accomplish a task. At this age children love to be little helpers, bringing food to the table or putting toys away. But sometimes a child may not be able to achieve the goal exactly as planned and then gets frustrated, acting out by kicking, hitting or throwing objects.

At this age, the child has formed a strong sense of identity (Torah) and feels safe and secure (Shema). At this point we can begin to teach the child: You have a responsibility in this world. We all have our personal Mitzrayim, our limitations that keep us from doing what we need to do. We have a yetzer hara that we must overcome. But just as the Yidden went out of Mitzrayim we have the power to go out of our own Mitzrayim. That is our job and our mission—the obligation of every one of us.

4. Kol Yisroel: Community

כל ישראל יש להם חלק לעולם הבא שנאמר ועמך כולם צדיקים לעולם ירשו ארץ נצר מטעי מעשי ידי להתפאר

All Israel have a share in the World to Come, as it is stated: “And Your people are tzadikim.” They shall inherit the land forever. They are the branch of My planting, the work of My hands, in which I take pride. (Sanhedrin 90a)

During the toddler years children tend to play next to each other but not with each other—known as parallel play. Slowly, children learn to incorporate others into their play. They develop the sense of being part of a group, and then face the challenge of figuring out exactly how they fit into that group. At this point their identity is still fluid—they may see themselves in terms of their position in the family or their standing in class. They learn the intricacies of group dynamics—how you have to act to be part of a group, who is in the “in-group” and who is on the outside. During this stage children have to develop a strong sense of themselves while also learning to get along with others.

The passuk of Kol Yisroel has within it these dual lessons on being an individual while being part of a community. The word kol refers to each of us as an individual, while Yisroel emphasizes how we are part of a klal. Each of us is a unique creation of Hashem, netzer mato’ai maasei yodai, in whom He takes pride. We teach our children that there is a place reserved for them in Olam Haba which they can earn through their own efforts. We are each given our own role and task to fulfill that will lead to the reward. This gives our children the cheshek they need to learn Torah and fulfill mitzvos with joy, knowing that they can make a difference. Yet we are connected to all other Jews. We are part of Klal Yisroel and all of us are tzadikim, each in our own way. The passuk of Kol Yisroel instills in children the confidence they need to be strong individuals, among other strong individuals who share a common goal and purpose.

5. Ki Karov: Competence

כי קרוב אליך הדבר מאד בפיך ובלבבך לעשותו

It is within your close reach to follow the Torah in speech, feeling and deed. (Devarim 30:14)

Children ages six to 12 move beyond simple activities like coloring and pasting to master many complex skills. They can read a passuk and explain it to others. They are learning to express their own thoughts through speech and writing. They may practice a game or a musical instrument until they become very good at it. They are starting to discover that they have individual talents that set them apart from their peers. At this stage children can also develop feelings of inferiority, if they are unable to earn the respect and admiration of their teachers and parents through demonstrating their skills.

The message of Ki karov is that each of us has a mission to fulfill in this world and Hashem gives us the capabilities we need to achieve it. We have control over our own speech (b’ficha), thoughts (bilvavcha) and actions (la’asoso). Everything else is not in our hands. We are responsible for developing our individual talents, but if someone else has a talent that we don’t have, this means that this talent is not necessary for our avodas Hashem. We need to concentrate on our own work without comparing ourselves to others.

6. V’hinei: Perception

והנה ה' נצב עליו ומלא כל הארץ כבודו ומביט עליו ובוחן כליות ולב עם עבדו כראוי

Behold, Hashem is standing over him, and fills the whole earth with His glory, and He searches his mind and heart [to see] if he is serving Him as is fitting. (Tanya, Chapter 41)

Young children are very concrete thinkers. As they grow older they mature in their capacity for abstract thought—to reason, to think about hypothetical situations, to plan future events and to understand the consequences of actions. This capacity does not become fully developed until the early 20’s.

A child’s understanding of Hashem is simple and uncomplicated. Children have a direct perception of Hashem that doesn’t require a lot of elaboration.

In the maamar Shoresh Mitzvas Hatefillah, the Tzemach Tzedek quotes, “Ani mispalel ledaas zeh hatinok.” I daven with the knowledge of a child. This maamar contains very complex ideas from Kabbalah and Chassidus to meditate on during davening, so why does the Tzemach Tzedek talk about the knowledge of a child? The Rebbe explains (Sefer Maamarim Melukatim, Emor 5737) that no matter how vast and deep our understanding of Hashem may be, our davening must be permeated with the simplicity of a child—the knowledge that we are children speaking to our Father.

Children have an innate awareness of Hashem. Our task as parents is not to instill this awareness but to make sure that it doesn’t get covered up as they become more immersed in the velt. As they get older they are exposed to more information and begin to grasp the vastness of the universe—the earth is just one planet out of millions of stars and galaxies. I am just one person out of billions! The age-old question arises—does Hashem, Who is so great and fills the entire universe, really care about me? Is what I do important to Him? The passuk of V’hinei instills in a child not only a sense of awe at Hashem’s greatness, but that Hashem is very much part of our lives. We are important to Him and He watches what we do because He cares.

7. Bereishis: Creativity

בראשית ברא אלקים את השמים ואת הארץ

In the beginning Hashem created the heavens and the earth. (Bereishis 1:1)

During adolescence, teens develop greater powers of self-expression. They learn to plan projects, to build displays, to write stories and essays, to perform on stage. They gradually assume more leadership roles in the community—leading Shabbos groups, going on mivtza’im, babysitting, working as counselors, giving shiurim. All these efforts put their creativity to the test as they prepare to enter the adult world.

Children who are shy or lack confidence may feel swallowed up during this stage, as if their voices are not heard and they don’t matter. They may be overlooked when it comes to summer jobs or school activities. They may not know how to express their ideas in a way that will make others pay attention. They see their peers flourishing, creating and achieving wonderful things, while they feel worthless and powerless.

And here is where the passuk of Bereishis comes in. All powers of creativity derive from Hashem. When we are successful we must remember this and thank Him humbly. When we are not, we can always turn to Hashem and ask Him for help to open up, to find our own voice, our own niche, the way in which we can contribute something to this world. Hashem is the Baal Habayis of this world Who invested each of us with some of His creative powers. We need not be intimidated by others.

8. V’shinantam: Diligence

ושננתם לבניך ודברת בם בשבתך בביתך ובלכתך בדרך ובשכבך ובקומך

And you shall teach the Torah to your children, and you shall speak about it when you are home and when you travel, before you lie down to sleep and when you wake up. (Devarim 6:7)

When we teach our children the psukim in a way that is mindful of their developmental stage, taking their personality and emotions into account, children become enthusiastic learners and want to learn more and more. They will come to you begging, “Teach me today’s Chitas! Tell me the Hayom Yom!” Our challenge as parents is not to “make” our children learn but to quench their thirst in a natural way.

When the Rebbe Rashab was four or five years old, he came to his grandfather, the Tzemach Tzedek, in tears. He had learned that Hashem had appeared to Avraham and he was crying because Hashem did not appear to him. The Rebbe explains in a sichah (Likutei Sichos Chelek 20, Vayera) that this story was not told just to teach us how special the Rebbe Rashab was. Every Jewish child has the potential to desire Hashem to the point of tears. It is our job as parents and teachers to stimulate that excitement in our children.

Throughout the day there are teaching moments—sitting around the supper table, while walking down the street, when you put the children to bed and when they wake up. The weekly parshah, stories of tzadikim, chassidishe vertlach—children eat them up and readily absorb them. We have a wealth of material available to us in many different formats—books, CD’s, videos, charts, games—to make learning exciting and accessible for our children.

9. Yagati: Perseverance

יגעתי ולא מצאתי אל תאמין. לא יגעתי ומצאתי אל תאמין. יגעתי ומצאתי תאמין

If someone says, "I have worked hard, and I have not been successful," don't believe him. If someone says, "I have not worked hard and I have been successful," don't believe him. If someone says, "I have worked hard, and I have been successful," believe him! (Megilla, 6b)

We’ve been through eight steps so far and at this point you may be saying, this is all too much! Can we really be expected to be teaching Torah to our children every second, in between cooking meals, washing laundry, driving carpool, not to mention pregnancy and nursing babies! I don’t have the time, I don’t have the patience, I don’t have the knowledge.

Raising children takes effort. If someone says, “I put no special work into my children and they turned out fine,” don’t believe them. But if someone says, “I tried and I did not succeed,” don’t believe them either. The passuk of Yagati teaches us that no effort is in vain. Whatever you put into your children will pay off in the long run. The Rebbe Rashab tells us to spend a half hour a day thinking about the chinuch of our children. If that’s too much, can you start with 15 minutes? Five minutes? Take small steps each day to invest a little more time and effort into your children and you will see the dividends.

The word matzasi does not mean “I succeeded” or “I achieved.” It means “I found.” That means that the reward is not according to our efforts—it is much greater than our efforts. It’s like paying one dollar for a lottery ticket and winning a million. You didn’t work for that million dollars, it came to you. But it would not have come if you did not put that dollar in. So put a dollar into your child, put in five minutes, ten minute, whatever you can. Every Yid has the power to figure out what Hashem wants from them and to bring it into actuality.

10. V’ahavta: Love

ואבהת לרעך כמוך רבי עקיבא אומר זה כלל גדול בתורה

Rabbi Akiva says that to “Love your fellow as yourself" is a great basic principle of the Torah. (Vayikra 19:18, Midrash)

Young children are naturally self-centered. As they grow we teach them the skills they need to be sociable human beings: to share, cooperate, take turns, have manners. But at what point do we learn to truly bond with other people, to be as invested in their success as we are in our own, to transcend our own needs and desires for the sake of others?

Some people, unfortunately, never learn this important life skill. They may learn the trappings of civilized behavior but at heart they are completely egotistical, thinking only of how to advance themselves.

The essence of Torah is to grow to become a person without ego—or rather, to see others as an extension of our own ego. As Perek 32 of Tanya explains, “As long as we make the body primary and the soul secondary, it is impossible to have true love and friendship between them…” When we place less emphasis on materialism and more on matters of the soul, it comes naturally to us to feel our essential unity. Although our bodies are separate, we are one soul.

Having progressed through the psukim, the next developmental step is to think beyond yourself. How can I inspire others as I have been inspired? How can I teach these psukim to someone else in a way that will be meaningful to them, in a way that speaks to their mind and neshamah?

11. Purpose

וזה כל האדם ותכלית בריאתו ובריאת כל העולמות עליונים ותחתונים להיות לו יתברך דירה זו בתחתונים

And this is all of man and the purpose of his creation, and the creation of all the worlds, higher and lower: To be [make] a dwelling place for G-d in this lowly world. (Tanya, Chapter 33)

The children we raised are now adults—working, married, raising their own families. As we go through adult life we face many challenges. Sometimes our trials are in worldly areas: parnassah, health, childrearing. Sometimes they may be in the spiritual realm, confronting our own doubts and crises of faith as well as the questions and challenges of others. At a certain age people may have a mid-life crisis, wondering, Why am I here? What is the purpose of it all? Have I achieved anything noteworthy in my life? Without a clearly defined goal, we go through life in a haze, never quite able to lift ourselves up above our surroundings.

Chassidus is unique in that it teaches us how to achieve balance between our physical and spiritual lives, between body and soul. It teaches us that our purpose in life is not to achieve material success, nor is it to soar in the heavens while leaving physical cares behind. Our mission here is to merge heaven and earth—to combine the two into a place that has all the advantages of both heaven and earth. We are here to create something unique, something that all the angels cannot do, something that nobody but us, as souls in bodies, can accomplish. We are here in this world to make a dirah b’tachtonim, a dwelling for Hashem in the lowest world. And this gives us the strength to rise above our circumstances and all the difficulties we face in life. We know that davka through facing this hardship and meeting this challenge, we are elevating this part of the world. Every single thing we do has meaning and purpose. It is all part of the Divine plan to help us reach the ultimate goal, the dirah b’tachtonim.

12. Yismach: Joy

ישמח ישראל בעושיו פירוש שכל מי שהוא מזרע ישראל יש לו לשמח בשמחת הוי' אשר שש ושמח בדירתו בתחתונים.

The Jews should rejoice in their Maker. Every Jew should share in G-d's joy, Who rejoices and is happy in His dwelling place in this world. (Tanya, Chapter 33)

I recently saw a feature in a parenting magazine on how to make the most out of your trip to Disney World. The “expert” advice was to start planning your trip a year in advance! Only then can you make sure to get the best deal on hotels and reserve the shows and rides of your choice. Because who wants to go to Disney World and squander even one second of potential fun?

From a secular, western perspective, true joy is very difficult to achieve. We live in a future-oriented society, where we are always planning and saving for some future event, or trying to avert some future calamity.  From an early age we are taught to start saving for retirement. So we go through our lives focusing on some theoretical age when we will reap the benefits of all that we worked for all our lives. Except that moment never comes. When people reach retirement age, even those with comfortable savings, they suddenly find themselves bereft and alone, and start to wonder—is this what I saved up for all my life?

From the point of view of Chassidus, joy isn’t something you plan for or save up for. It doesn’t come from parties or vacations or new furniture. Joy arises naturally as a result of living as a Jew, secure in the knowledge that we are serving Hashem and are partners with Him in this very special project, to make the world into a home for Hashem. And our joy is a shared joy. The ultimate stage of development for a chossid is to share in Hashem’s joy, to do mitzvos only for His sake. Then we will feel the exuberance that Hashem has when He sees His creation come to life, to recognize Him and invite him into the world that He created. Hashem’s simchah becomes our simchah, and this leads us to the ultimate simchah and the greatest one of all—the coming of Moshiach.

Dreams of Redemption

A “Poetry in Motion” display in the New York City subway is titled “Heaven,” and it begins,

“It will be the past …

“Not as it was to live

“but as it is remembered.”

Is that how we imagine heaven? A trip back to the nostalgic past?

Our view of the past is colored by our experiences and perceptions. We don’t remember it as it was but as we would have liked it to be. We filter out the negative and remember only the beautiful parts.

Many people similarly think about Moshiach as a trip back to the past. Each day in our prayers we say, “May the Holy Temple be rebuilt speedily in our days.” There was a Holy Temple, two in fact, and they were destroyed. Moshiach will come and rebuild the Temple, and we will all go back to Israel and relive the glory days of the past.

But is that all?

Did we have to go through all this time in exile just to get back to the starting point?

Studying Chassidus makes us realize that the future Redemption is not about going back at all.

In a letter to Israeli president Yitzchak Ben-Tzvi, the Lubavitcher Rebbe writes:

“From the day I went to cheder and even before that, I began to weave in my mind an image of the future Redemption—the Redemption of the Jewish people from its final exile, a Redemption in such a manner that all the suffering and persecution of exile will make sense… It will be in such a manner that we say wholeheartedly and with complete understanding, “On that day it will be said, ‘I thank you, G-d, for You have been angry with me.’”

The Rebbe did not envision Moshiach to come and fix his or the world’s problems, or restore the world to a previous state of perfection. The Rebbe desired something much more than that.

He wanted a Redemption that would make us thank G-d for the exile. A Redemption that will make us say, Yep, I get it now. I see how none of this could have happened without the years and generations of pain that came before it.

And the Rebbe did not just dream about it. He made it happen. He sent out emissaries and set up a network of institutions around the world with one mission—to prepare the world for Moshiach. He charged all of us with the task of spreading goodness, to do one more mitzvah, to brighten someone’s day and thus bring light to the entire world.

And he made us desire Moshiach with the same longing and intensity that he himself experienced. He communicated his passion to us with such urgency that we could not help but be caught up in it, to be as driven as the Rebbe himself is to bring Moshiach.

When we approach the third of Tammuz, the day the Rebbe’s physical body was concealed from us, many are seized with longing and nostalgia for the past. We badly want to hear the Rebbe’s voice, receive his guidance and advice on both personal and global matters.

But the Rebbe does not want us to dwell on the past. Not now. We have work to do. We need to channel that longing into action—purposeful deeds that will bring about the complete revelation of Moshiach. We don’t want the past—we want to go towards the future, which will be incomparably greater than anything we’ve experienced thus far. It will have all the benefits of the past plus something more—and that “something” is our effort, the efforts of all the Jewish people since the beginning of time. Rebbe, we are ready.

Doing Work in Mighty Waters

Doing Work in Mighty Waters

Farbrengen notes, Gimmel Tammuz, 5774

While cleaning for Pesach this year I decided I was ready to purge some 30-odd years’ worth of accumulated papers. My filing cabinet had broken under the strain and I had to reduce the burden to a more manageable level. I set to the task without pity. My first year teaching papers – out. My seminary and high school notes – over and done with. Notes from elementary school? Who needs them.

The purging process was coming along quite nicely and I had filled about a half-dozen paper recycling bags, when I came to a small red notebook. I leafed through it and saw that it held the notes I had taken of the Rebbe’s sichos from when I was eight or nine years old.

As a child growing up “out-of-town,” a farbrengen of the Rebbe meant going to shul and listening to the sichos over a loudspeaker via a telephone “hook-up,” or on a video screen when the farbrengens were broadcast on cable TV. As children we were taught to take notes when the Rebbe would speak, whether or not we understood the Rebbe’s words. The Rebbe spoke much faster than my eight-year-old hand could keep up with, and my attention span wasn’t very long, so the notes were mostly brief sentence fragments. Still, it was possible to discern in them some thread of an idea. This notebook, I could not throw away.

As children, many of us grow up with the illusion that we will one day give our children all the things we never had. And of course, it goes without saying that our children will have all the things we did have. However, the reality is that, for better or worse, our children lead different lives than we did. We may not always be able to give them all the things we loved and enjoyed in our own childhood, let alone the things we never had. Each generation has its own struggles, its own challenges and its own triumphs.

It is 20 years since Gimmel Tamuz, 5754.

I was 20 years old on Gimmel Tammuz, on the verge of adulthood. My children were all born after Gimmel Tammuz, and some are on the verge of adulthood themselves. A whole generation has grown up after Gimmel Tammuz.

In secular culture, each generation has a term with which to define itself. There is the hippie generation, the yuppies, the gen-X, gen-Y, the millennials. Those who follow Chabad closely know that each decade has its own flavor and theme. The Chofs, the Lameds, the Mems, the Nuns – each one is qualitatively different, in the style of the Rebbe’s sichos, the projects, the activities, the hora’os.

As a child growing up in the Mems, what did that mean? It meant being a soldier in Tzivos Hashem, which was founded in 5741. It meant living with the motto, “We Want Moshiach Now.”

I was eight years old the first time I saw the Rebbe. We were spending the summer with my grandparents in Philadelphia and made the two-hour drive to New York. It just so happened that there was a Tzivos Hashem rally on that day, during which the Rebbe addressed the campers of Camp Emunah and Gan Israel.

Chassidim would hold the first day they came to the Rebbe as their “chassidishe birthday.” So I was curious to know what the Rebbe said on that day, Rosh Chodesh Elul, 5741. Because it was Rosh Chodesh, the Rebbe discussed the concept of the Jewish people being likened to the moon, the “smaller light,” which receives light from the sun.

 “And if so,” says the Rebbe, “a Jewish child can think: How can I accept the shlichus of the King of the universe, and be confident that I can fulfill the shlichus, if I am small?”

And the Rebbe’s message to us, the children of Tzivos Hashem, was: We are not small. Or rather, we are small, but because we are part of the greatest of the great, we can accomplish great things, far in excess of our puny little powers.

And if this was true for my generation, the children of the Mems, the first Tzivos Hashem cohort, how much more for our children. We grew up with unprecedented access to the Rebbe. We could see the Rebbe on a daily basis, if we wished. We have shelves filled with kuntresim, albums filled with dollars that we received personally from the Rebbe.

Our children do not have this. They don’t have the “things” that we received from the Rebbe. But, in some mysterious way, they have something greater than this. They have the Rebbe himself.

There is a verse in Tehillim, yordei hayam ba’aniyos osei melacha b’mayim rabbim. There are those who go down to the sea in ships, who do work in mighty waters. The Baal Shem Tov explains that “going down to the sea” is a reference to the neshamah coming down into the world. The word aniyah has two meanings. It refers to a ship, but it can also mean ta’aniyah va’aniyah – mourning and lamentation.

Some neshamos descend into the world in ships. They are fortunate to enter the world into a nurturing environment, with parents who protect them and provide them with a proper Torah education. Then there are those who enter the world in turbulence – they are born without the safety of a ship, without the security of a loving, peaceful home, without an atmosphere of Torah and mitzvos. And then there are those who “do work in the mighty waters.” These are the people who are given the mission of rescuing those who are in the sea without a ship. Forsaking the safety of their own ship, these special souls brave the storms to bring other souls back with them.

Now, you might think that if you were one of the unlucky ones born into chaos and turbulence, and didn’t merit a safe, secure childhood, then that’s that. There is nothing to be done about it except wait to be rescued. However, in a sichah of Yud Shvat 5725, the Rebbe explains that actually, we all have all three aspects within ourselves. We each have a part that is confused, aching and tempestuous, and we also have within us a part that is calm, peaceful and secure. Regardless of where we started out, we can all find our way to our inner “ship” – the strength and stability we have within. And what’s more, regardless of our own woes, we are all gifted with the ability to set aside our own needs and jump into the great waters to help someone else.

Before Gimmel Tammuz we were fortunate enough to coast along on a comfortable ship. We could see the Rebbe on a daily basis. The Rebbe was always available to us to answer our questions, our fears and our doubts. The Rebbe constantly generated new ideas and charted our course of action. The Rebbe led, and we followed.

Yes, the Rebbe still leads, and he still gives his answers and brochos. I believe that very strongly. But we are not on our comfortable ship anymore. We are out there in the open seas, and sometimes we may feel that we are floundering and lost at sea. But it’s our choice. We can see ourselves as lost and adrift, or we can fight our way back to the ship, bringing others back with us.

A chossid once came to the Tzemach Tzedek and asked him to bless his son with a good memory. That way, his child would come to the Rebbe and soak up the words of the Rebbe and the ways of chassidim, and b’derech m’maileh, as a matter of course, he would be a yerei Shomayim.

The Tzemach Tzedek responded that his goal was to create chassidim through avodah, not derech m’maileh chassidim.

This is not to say that memories are not important. We need to give over our memories, we need to share with them with our children. But more important than the memories are the avodah and the mission. The Rebbe’s expectations of us are very clear.

One thing that the pre-Gimmel Tammuz generation shares is an overwhelming sense of indebtedness to the Rebbe. After all, the Rebbe would stand and give, give, give, and we would take, take, take. Brochos. Dollars. Lekach. Kos shel Brachah. Kuntresim. And even when we thought the Rebbe had already given everything he could give, the Rebbe would surprise us and add something new. We saw day in and day out how the Rebbe transcended the rules of nature on our behalf. And that created a strong sense of hischayvus, an obligation to give back to the Rebbe. How could we go to the Rebbe and take directly from his hand and then not keep the Rebbe’s hora’os? How could we look the Rebbe in the face?

And this is what I find so awesome about our children, the generation that grew up after Gimmel Tammuz. Because somehow I see in them the same hischayvus. I see them running out to mivtzoyim and farbrengens. I see them staying up late to finish Chitas and Rambam. I see them going off on Shlichus. My sons have Rebbeim and mashpiim who are in their mid-20’s -- and somehow they are instilling our young bochurim with chassidishkeit and yiras Shomayim. Where do they get it from? They didn’t hear it from the Rebbe’s mouth. They didn’t stand on line for dollars, and if they did it was at an age they can barely remember. But the hischayvus remains. This is something I find deeply inspiring about today’s generation. And this is something the Rebbe alludes to in the maamar “Kimei Tzeischa Me’eretz Mitzrayim Arenu Niflaos,” where the Rebbe teaches that the geulah will come about primarily through the avodah of the final generation, immediately preceding the Redemption.

The Rebbe explains that during the time of the Beis Hamikdosh, G-dliness was clearly revealed. There were ten miracles apparent to the naked eye, many of which were obvious even to common people. As a result, it was easy to serve G-d. It was something that came naturally and made sense intellectually. There was less spiritual darkness, and G-dliness was more accessible and understandable to us. There was no real challenge, no mesirus nefesh involved.

Similarly, there were times during galus when the darkness was not that overwhelming. It did not demand great mesirus nefesh to serve Hashem.

However, this is not true of our time, the generation immediately preceding Moshiach’s coming. The forces of darkness increase daily, and there are many challenges to overcome – in particular, not to be affected by those who mock. To overcome these challenges, we must reach deep inside ourselves, to a level of mesirus nefesh that transcends all boundaries and limitations. And this, in turn, will draw down the innermost level of Hashem into this world.

The Rebbe concludes: “May it be G-d’s will that this occur most speedily; that our present deeds and divine service hasten the time when we will greet our Righteous Moshiach. And then, we will witness the actual fulfillment of the prophecy, ‘As in the days of your exodus from Egypt, I will show you wonders.’”