18 Jul PARSHAS DEVARIM CAREFUL CONSIDERATION OF CHINUCH CONCESSIONS

The idea was
good in my eyes.
(1:23)
Parashas
Devarim begins
with Moshe rabbeinu
reviewing the main events that occurred
in the 39 years since the Jewish People
left Har Sinai. In recalling their request
to send meraglim (spies) to reconnoiter
Eretz Yisrael before proceeding to the
Land, Moshe castigates them for the
disorderly manner with which they made
their request, but he concedes that “the
idea was good in my eyes.”
The Talmud (Sotah 34b) deduces from
Moshe’s statement — “The idea was
good in my eyes” — that he felt that it
was a good idea to send meraglim,
but Hashem did not. Hashem was aware
that sending spies would end in disaster,
and He did not want them to go.
This is difficult to understand.
If Hashem knew that the meraglim

would end up poisoning the minds of the
nation against Eretz Yisrael, why did He
agree that they could go? Hashem should
have told Moshe, “Tell them that I am
God, I call the shots, and I said ‘NO!’”?
Rabbi Mottel Katz, the late Rosh
Yeshivah of Telz in Cleveland, Ohio,
deduces an important lesson in chinuch
from this incident.
There are times that children want to do
something that their parents deem
inappropriate. Our parental instincts tell
us to lay down the law and prohibit them
from doing what they want to do. We
reason to ourselves that we are required
to be mechanech (educate) our children,
and sometimes this means that we have
to say, “No.”
But is it always right to say no?
We learn from the meraglim, says
Rabbi Katz, that there are times that we
have to concede, even if we know that
what our children want to do is wrong!
Hashem realized that the people simply

were not ready to accept His denial
of their request. Had Moshe returned
from Hashem with a negative
response, they would have thought
to themselves, “How are we
supposed to go and fight against a
country without sending spies?
Everyone knows that you do not
fight without intelligence
information.”

Had Klal Yisrael been on a high-
enough spiritual level to accept Hashem’s

refusal, He would have said no.
But Hashem realized they were not
ready to accept His decision
wholeheartedly, so He did not refuse
their request.
Sometimes, notes Rabbi Katz, chinuch
is all about conceding. We have to know
when our children are able to accept a
“no,” and when they are just too set on
doing what they intend to do to accept
our refusal.
This concept is actually mentioned
clearly in the Talmud (Yevamos
65b) as well: “Just as it is
a mitzvah to say words that will be
accepted, it is also a mitzvah not to
say words that will not be
accepted.”
Rabbi Mottel Katz adds a personal
anecdote that is so incredible that,
had I not seen it myself in his notes
and confirmed the authenticity of
the notes with his son, I would
never have included it here. The
incident that he describes, while
not dated, must have occurred in
the late 1940s or early 50s.
“One day, the boys came over to
me in yeshivah and asked me to
change the yeshivah schedule for
one night,” writes Rabbi Katz.
“They wanted to daven Maariv
earlier than we regularly did.
“When I asked them why they
wanted to daven early, they
explained that there was a
heavyweight championship bout
being fought in New York that
night, and they wanted to listen to
the match on the radio. If we
would daven at the regular time,
they would miss the fight.”
“Of course the very request was
inappropriate, not to mention the
questionable propriety of yeshivah
students listening to a fight between

two humans trained to beat each other
until one of them could no longer stand
up.”
“I realized that if I refused, the boys
simply would not understand why I
refused. Having grown up in America,
they were accustomed to the finest, most
respectable citizens flying in from all
over the country to view these matches.
They considered watching or listening to
the radio broadcast of two adults
pummeling each other a perfectly normal
means of recreation.”
“I decided,” concludes Rabbi Katz,
“that since these boys would not begin to
understand why I was refusing their
request, it would be better to allow them
to daven early and listen to the match.”
I am sure that this was probably one of
many difficult dilemmas Rabbi Katz had
to face. He had learned in Telz back in
Europe. What would his Roshei Yeshivah
have thought of such a request?
Rabbi Mordechai Gifter often related
his memories of his arrival in Telz and
finding that the only thing that existed
there was Torah. How difficult it must
have been for a person who had been
privy to witness such exalted devotion to
Torah to permit his students to end their
studies early for a heavyweight
championship match.
But this was a new world. The student
body of Telz at the time was culled from
various small communities throughout
the United States; many of them had
attended public elementary schools in
their youth. They could not be expected
to fully appreciate the value of Torah.
Of course, there are many cases in
which parents and mechanchim have to
say no. But in this case, Rav Mottel
learned from the best Teacher.
If Hashem permitted Klal Yisrael to do
something that He knew was wrong
when He realized they could not accept
His refusal, then the Rosh Yeshivah of
Telz had to find it in himself to do the

same.

And so, dear parents, must we.