My son and his family recently visited us for two weeks. They live in Jerusalem, so the trip was significant. Two adults and three kids, aged 6, 10, and 13, took up residence in our modest home and we all had a blast.
During their visit, I was reminded of what it feels like to have a busy household. Dishes were piled up in the sink, Legos were strewn on the floor, and dirty towels were everywhere. But this time, there was a difference: My son and his wife helped out. The kids even helped. Dirty dishes were transformed into clean ones. Messy floors were cleared of debris. This, I thought, was a sign of success: My husband and I had raised a son whose family members largely cleaned up after themselves.
What goes into raising responsible children? Was there a magic moment when we, as parents, portentously told our kids, “You must clean up after yourselves,” and that was it? Far from it.
What goes into raising responsible children? Was there a magic moment when we, as parents, portentously told our kids, “You must clean up after yourselves,” and that was it? Far from it. That message was repeated countless times in word and deed. Even if we did not order our kids to tidy up, we emphasized the need to respect the space of the people around them. We didn’t see the fruits until our kids were launched and started, amazingly, keeping neat, clean homes of their own.
Similarly, what did it take to raise children who take Jewish life seriously? Sure, there was Jewish day school, for which we stretched ourselves financially to and beyond our limits. But there are families that send their kids to day school and the kids seem to have absorbed almost nothing about living a Jewish life. Every day, the school would weave Jewish ideas into the children’s minds, and every evening, their father or mother would methodically tear the stitches out, mocking, scoffing, doubting, and casting aspersions on the school. Is it any wonder they didn’t take Judaism seriously?
No, school is not enough. It is important, but transmitting the desire to live a Jewish life and make a Jewish home takes more than teachers giving lessons. It takes the model of parents walking the walk, avoiding all the nearby non-kosher takeout joints, and driving across town for kosher pizza. Stopping work on an important project on Friday afternoon because Shabbat was coming. Not going to shul with a baby if there was no eruv. Waiting in endless carpool lines after driving for 30 or 40 minutes when there was a public school within walking distance. Making the sacrifices that showed our children that living a Jewish life mattered to us. We also showed them the joy of hosting Shabbat meals, singing songs, making Purim baskets, enjoying Pesach Seders, and countless other positive moments. And because it mattered to us, it mattered to them.
Of course, even a Jewishly committed home can raise children who shun religious observance. Why this happens is beyond my pay grade. Perhaps it is related to the influence of secular culture, perhaps a lack in the school, perhaps an inconsistency in the parents’ commitment. Or perhaps, as a rabbi wisely said to me when one of my own children gave up the religious lifestyle, “Orthodox Judaism is not for everyone.” Even if a child is not religious in the same way their parents were, their childhood experiences leave an imprint. The person raised in a religious home may be more likely to give to charity, host strangers in their home, or bring a meal to a sick friend. Despite the agnosticism they claim, they might even feel a flicker of faith.
I now see my grandchildren and watch their parents, my children, making their own sacrifices for the sake of passing on the tradition. Will their kids clean up after themselves when they become adults? I pray that I live to find out.
Elizabeth Danziger is the author of four books, including Get to the Point, 2nd edition, which was originally published by Random House. She lives in Venice, California.
