02 Sep GUIDING WITHOUT BREAKING: LESSONS FOR THE NEW SCHOOL YEAR

As the school year
begins, we are once
again reminded of the
importance of
educating our
children in the proper
way. Education is not
only about sending them to the right yeshivot
and pointing them toward the right path. It
requires a strategy, with much thought and
planning, along with constant follow-up to
adjust and guide them as needed. It is no
coincidence that our parasha falls at the
beginning of the school year and highlights
several of these very ideas. Let us analyze
what the Torah teaches and learn how to
internalize its lessons.
The parasha speaks of the ben sorer u’moreh,
meaning a wayward and rebellious son who
refuses to listen to the guidance of his parents.
The Torah describes how, despite being
admonished and disciplined, he persists in a
path of gluttony, defiance, and disregard for
authority. Chazal explain that the Torah is not
merely speaking about one child’s behavior,
but about the dangerous trajectory that
unchecked habits and small missteps can
create if not addressed early.

The obvious lesson is that parents and
educators must intervene early, before bad
traits become ingrained, guiding children
firmly yet lovingly so they can grow into
upright individuals. But there is a much
deeper message here that requires some
observation to uncover.
The Torah describes the case of the ben sorer
u’moreh: a child who steals small amounts
from his parents in order to buy a bit of meat
and wine. At the very first signs of such
behavior, the parents taunt him and punish
him harshly. Yet this approach brings no
results—if anything, it pushes the child
further into rebellion. With no choice, the
Torah concludes that such a child may have
no future.
But how can it be that the Torah seems to
“give up” on a child? Wouldn’t the correct
message be that we should never give up, and
always keep striving to guide our children
toward improvement? The answer is
surprising. The Torah does not place the
primary blame on the child, as we might
assume, but rather on the parents.
The Torah analyzes the parents’ reaction:
instead of showing patience, understanding,
or constructive guidance, they immediately

punish the child—even for something as
small as stealing a few coins to buy a
hamburger and a bit of wine. Perhaps the
proper reaction should have been different: to
overlook a minor misstep, to sit down for a
calm conversation, to acknowledge his
desires, and to gently redirect him. For
example, they might have offered him
something else to enjoy, while explaining
why drinking alcohol is harmful. But the
parents in the story did none of this. They
responded only with criticism and
punishment.
As a result, the child comes to feel guilty,
worthless, and unsupported. When a child
believes that his parents are not on his side,
the natural outcome is rebellion. What may
have begun as simple curiosity or youthful
mischief turns into outright defiance. And
unless the parents change their approach—
shifting from punishment to guidance—the
child may never recover.
This is true not only for parents but also for
rabbis and teachers in school. When the
environment is overly strict, children often
do not react positively. Parents must know
their child’s nature and needs—while they
would not want to place him in a yeshiva
with weak guidelines, on the other hand,
they should also avoid placing him in an
atmosphere that is too rigid. If, during the
year, they see that the school’s approach is
overly strict and the child is not responding
well, they should immediately raise the
concern with the administration. If there is
no improvement, they must seriously
consider changing schools for the benefit of
their child.
It could be that this is the meaning of the
pasuk that emphasizes, “aino shome’a b’kol
aviv u’v’kol imo, vayisru oto v’lo yishma
aleihem”—“he does not listen to the voice of
his father and the voice of his mother, and
they discipline him, but he does not listen to
them” (Devarim 21:18). Why does the pasuk
repeat that he does not listen to his parents
twice? The Torah is teaching that the parents
keep relying on the same failing methods of
education. They should have realized that if
the child did not listen the first time, simply
applying more force the second time would
not work either. Moreover, even if the child
would comply under pressure, that would
not be considered true chinuch—education—
but mere training, no different than training
an animal. Such an approach only leads to a
child who outwardly obeys when forced but
drifts away the moment he grows strong
enough to resist his parents’ control.
The reason he does not listen is because all
he hears is constant criticism. When a person
is always blamed, he eventually stops
listening. The child is simply reacting like

any normal human being; at a young age he
does not yet have the maturity to rise above
such negativity. But the Torah expects the
parents to act with responsibility, to guide the
situation in a proper and constructive way.
And if the parents themselves do not know
how, then they must seek guidance from
those who do — whether from rabbis,
mentors, or professional advisors.
Another idea we learn here is that the
requirement for a ben sorer umoreh is that the
parents must speak with one voice and even
appear similar. Chazal therefore say the case
can never truly happen. Two questions arise:
why not, and if it cannot happen, why did the
Torah teach it at all?
The lesson is clear: the downfall of the ben
sorer umoreh is rooted in parents who are not
united in their guidance. When parents speak
with one voice, the child gains clarity and
knows what is expected, making it far easier
for him to follow. The Torah teaches that if
the parents were aligned, the failures seen in
their child would not occur—and that is the
powerful message the Torah seeks to convey.
This extends beyond the home—parents
must also align themselves with the child’s
teachers, rabbanim, and roshei yeshiva.
Respecting the school’s guidelines reinforces
one consistent message. For example, if a
yeshiva forbids phones, parents should not
provide their child with one and then instruct
him to hide it. That only teaches the child that
rules can be broken as long as you avoid
being caught. This mirrors the mistake of the
ben sorer umoreh, who tried to steal without
being detected, and when caught, he rebelled.
At the same time, boundaries must be set
with wisdom. If expectations are too high or
rigid, the child may feel forced into secrecy.
In the story of the ben sorer umoreh, had the
parents fostered a more open relationship,
allowing the child to feel comfortable asking
them for money, the entire dynamic might
have shifted. If he knew he could approach
them honestly, it would have removed the
sting of temptation and reduced his drive to
sneak, steal, and rebel.
Let us conclude with a heartfelt tefillah that
all our children merit a successful year of
Torah learning, growing in middot tovot and
strengthening their yirat Shamayim.