The anomaly of the ‘Rebellious Son’, a child who has exhibited, between the young age of thirteen and thirteen and three months, seemingly irreparable errant behavior, who is condemned to death, leaves us wondering. 

The Talmud teaches that although at this juncture he hasn’t yet committed any capital crimes, nevertheless, it would be best to dispatch with him while he is relatively innocent before he becomes extremely guilty. His petty thievery and indulgent habits will no doubt cause him to evolve into a menace who will terrorize the populace with more heinous crimes.

Yet there is one caveat to the justice system’s attempt to ‘save him from himself’. Only if the parents ‘grasp him and take him out to the elders of his city’, do we implement this process. 

But if this child is doomed to failure, why should our noble efforts to stifle the inevitable be contingent on the parents making that choice? 

The answer is self-evident. It is never a parent’s ‘right’ to determine the fate of their young adult child. It is rather the fact that when the court observes a child whose parents are so frustrated to the point that they have given up all hope for his rehabilitation, that the court concludes this child indeed has no future. A child who senses he has been utterly rejected by his parents, is truly hopeless. That is how profoundly fatal, rejection from a parent is. 

How is it that parents could possibly come to such a conclusion? 

We are taught that the laws immediately preceding the story of the rebellious son tell a tale of descent that led to this dire situation. 

The Torah first relates the law of Yefas To’ar, the ‘woman of beautiful form’. In the heat of battle, where passions flow uncontrollably a soldier may catch a glimpse of a beautiful woman and instinctively be driven to ravish her. Acknowledging man’s fragility, the Torah permits a process by which he may ‘thoughtfully’ take her as a wife. 

The next set of laws discussed revolves around a man who has two wives, one beloved and one loathed, each bearing him a son, with the firstborn born to the hated wife. The Torah instructs that the father may not usurp the firstborn’s right to a double inheritance, in transferring it to the beloved wife’s son. 

Rashi, quoting the Midrash, teaches that each episode is the natural result from the prior. One who takes a Yefas To’ar as a wife will end up despising her. A home filled with hate will be plagued with a child who rebels. 

Is this concept understood simply as a consequential punishment for having failed spiritually, with each subsequent problem a payback for having come up short in our obligations? Or is there perhaps a deeper message in the evolution of these series of troubles? 

Perhaps it all begins with a improper attitude towards life and others. A person who views people merely as instruments and opportunities for their own gratification, is doomed to see everything in life only in the context of one’s own selfish needs. 

Even the enemy, the woman of beautiful form, must never be seen merely as an object for personal use. She is a person, with feelings, aspirations, and family. 

One who has violated that space of strangers, will come to act selfishly even towards family. 

Why did the Torah see fit to describe the inappropriateness of seizing the birthright of the firstborn in the context of  the son of the beloved wife over the son of the hated wife? Wouldn’t the story be just as relevant were both wives equally beloved but it was the firstborn child who was no good, that the father sought to deny him his due right?  

I believe the Torah is intimating that this father was using his son as a pawn in his conflicted life. Seeking to placate his loving wife, and sticking it to his loathed one, he confiscates the birthright from the innocent firstborn. What about the kid? Why should he suffer because the father wants to please one wife and taunt the other? 

Only a father who sees only his personal agenda as primary, blinded to the qualities, emotions and duties towards his own flesh and blood, his child, could possibly manipulate so insensitively his very own son for his own needs. 

Is it still a question how a parent could be so callous as to discard his own child out of frustration? This father can only fathom a son as a vehicle for his own promotion and success. In the absence of that, even his own child is dispensable. 

But it doesn’t just stop there. 

In our personal service to G-d there are moments or situations where we readily rise to the occasion responding positively and in accordance with His will. Yet, too often, there are times when our instincts get the better of us, when we too easily succumb to temptation. 

The Holy Baal HaTanya reveals that we each possess two life forces, two souls. A Nefesh Elokis, a pure and unadulterated ‘godly soul’ that dwells within us, unblemished. It is this component of our being that represents the impregnable good we each possess no matter how badly we are entrenched and sullied by sin. But there is a more exquisite and more elevated soul, the Nefesh Behamis, an ‘animal soul’. It descends from a much higher realm. Precisely because of its greater holiness it comes down couched in physicality, disguised in many layers that must be penetrated before we can nourish from its spiritual brilliance. 

There are parts of our lives where we easily, or at least without much resistance, access the godly soul connecting to G-d happily. It may manifest itself in acts of kindness, devotion in prayer, inspired study of Torah. Each of us seek connection readily in those areas we identify with without much struggle. 

On the other hand, most of our experiences in life relate to those arenas of life that tempt us away from consciousness of G-d, when we are driven by personal ambition, the pursuit of pleasure, and the desire for the easy path of least resistance. 

We write off our ability to conquer these distractions in instilling these moments with divinely driven purpose, by convincing ourselves that it is beyond our means, and not our personal objective or mission in life. 

 

We selfishly write ourselves off, callously discarding this most precious soul. 

The very verse that discusses the two wives, the beloved and the hated, the Baal HaTanya enlightens, is referring to the Nefesh Elokis, the godly soul, the ‘loved wife’, and the Nefesh HaBehamis, the animal soul, the hated wife. 

The Torah attests though that, the firstborn is the hated one’s, the firstborn, i.e. the primary soul, is that which appears as the son of the hated one! 

In our relationship with G-d we delude ourselves in sufficing to live with the lower force of the Nefesh Elokis, denying ourselves the greatness and pleasure of accessing the higher force, that of the Nefesh HaBehamis.     (ליקוטי תורה כי תצא) 

There are two vital lessons to be learned. 

We must perceive and treat others with appreciation for who they are and with admiration for what they have achieved, each one on its own level. 

We must never discard the rebellious child within us. It is that soul that is pining for discovery, waiting to shine forth in all its beauty. 

 

The Jerusalem Talmud states that parents who have initiated the process of the rebellious son may nevertheless pardon the son. 

 

Even a small sign of hope and sensitivity to a rejected child can regenerate that most vital connection. He is no longer sentenced to failure as long as a ray of hope and encouragement is expressed by his parents. 

 

The same is true with our selves. We must begin to strive to peel away the layers of resistance that is holding us back from attaining closeness to G-d. 

We must never give up. 

Our children are waiting for our loving attention.

G-d is waiting to explode with His love if we only turn attention to that part of Him that is our very essence.

באהבה,

צבי יהודה טייכמאן