“These are the words that Moshe spoke to all of Israel …” (Devarim 1:1)
Rashi writes that these were words of rebuke. By specifying the names of the different places where the Jewish people angered Hashem, he was alluding to those incidents to save their honor.
The Shlah writes that before Moshe Rabbeinu explicitly recounted the episodes he first enumerated their virtues and intrinsic qualities (1:13), “Provide for yourselves distinguished men, who are wise, understanding and well-known to your tribes …”
This approach is as it says (Mishlei 9:8), “Do not rebuke a scoffer, lest he hate you; rebuke a wise man and he will love you.” Do not reprimand a person in a demeaning manner. Don’t tell the individual he has done bad, or he is a bad person. He will not like you, nor will he listen to your words. Rather, tell the individual that he is intelligent and it would not be appropriate for someone of his stature to act in a certain way. Make him your friend and he will be more willing to accept your words.
The Ish L’Rei’eihu comments that one should speak gently, not with anger, as Shlomo HaMelech says (Koheles 9:17), “The words of the wise are heard when spoken softly.” Our sages tell us, in a similar vein, “Words that emanate from the heart, enter the heart.” The Talmud (Bava Basra 60b) teaches that in order to do that effectively, one must first act properly himself before requiring others to do so.
The question presents itself: Is it permissible to rebuke one’s parents or grandparents for doing something wrong? And if it is, how should it be done?
The Talmud (Sanhedrin 81a) warns that when someone sees his father transgress, he should not tell him that he has done wrong. Rather, he should gently note the halacha, in a way that will not embarrass his father.
The Sfas Emes draws our attention to the incident (Shmuel I, 19) where Yonasan rebuked his father, Shaul, for seeking to kill Dovid, and asks: How was Yonasan allowed to rebuke his own father?
He explains that the Talmud is referring to rebuke that is extended after the person has already sinned and the sinner has no way of correcting the transgression retroactively. But in this case, Shaul was only speaking of killing Dovid, but he had not yet done so. Thus, Yonasan was permitted to admonish his father in order to prevent any transgression.
The Oznaim L’Torah clarifies that by Moshe personally reproaching the Jewish People his words were more effective and had maximal impact. He himself had witnessed their transgressions, was deeply distressed and moved to do something about it – a reaction that would not be as potent when transmitted by someone else in his name.
This is analogous to a prominent orator whose speeches made a powerful impression on his audiences. After his passing, an anthology of his talks were put into print. Many people bought the sefer, however, the consensus was that they were just lacking the fire and the passion. “Words that emanate from the heart, enter the heart.”
A rebbi in a yeshiva wrote the following letter:
A talmid of mine would continuously speak to me negatively of his father. He complained that his father didn’t care about him and thought very little of him.
Eventually he no longer spoke to his father because he thought his father was a deadbeat and thought only of himself.
One day the father called to ask if we could talk. He didn’t want his son to know about our meeting, and we agreed to get together away from the yeshiva. By this time, I was certain that I would be meeting a slouch with no middos and a total lack of interest in his son.
To my amazement, it was immediately obvious that the father was a very special individual who was dedicated to the welfare of his son. He cried that he didn’t know how to convince the son of his good intentions, as his son would not listen to him and wouldn’t accept anything from him.
The father gave me a handsome sum of money to dispense to him whenever he needed something. “Tell him it’s a loan,” he said, “and then forgive the loan.” However, the father made me promise that I would never disclose that we had met, because the son would then reject anything I gave him.
This went on for years. Whenever the boy needed money he would come to me, and I would give him the funds. The boy would continue to tell me how his father did not care about him. Although I guaranteed him that it was otherwise, told him that a father always cares about his son, and tried to convince him that he was wrong, the boy stubbornly stuck to his guns. Every time he kept calling his father a deadbeat, I would think to myself, “If only every father was a deadbeat like yours!” But I had to remain silent; I could not divulge the secret that the money was his father’s.
Soon it was time for the boy to marry. He would not listen to any suggestions from his father. His father was concerned, as he wanted to ensure that his son had a promising future.
Then I got a call from the father who related that he had heard that there are other children who do not value their parents. He suggested that I give a powerful shiur on kibbud av v’eim and perhaps I would make an impression on the boys, including his son, to do teshuva.
The father gave me a nice sum of money to incentivize the boys with refreshments and perks to come to the shiur. There was also a cash reward offered to the boys who attended the shiurim.
However, the son refused to hear one good word about his father. I did not know what to do. The son eventually got married, had children, but still would not talk to his parents.
I kept the father’s secret because I had promised not to tell his son anything and not to breach his confidence. Yet, I never heard a bad word about the father from anyone else. The father kept begging me not to say anything to his son. Every day I debated whether I was doing the right thing. Perhaps it was my duty to shout into the boy’s ears that he was transgressing grave Torah prohibitions every single day, and was also losing so many precious mitzvos that he could fulfill.
The rebbi concludes:
This story does not have a good ending. I no longer have a connection with the family. Perhaps one Yom Kippur the now-young man was inspired to atone for his terrible sin and the prophecy of “the heart of the children will be turned back to their fathers” has come true.
I write this letter in order to inspire a rectification of this situation wherever possible. Young people should know how much their parents sacrifice for them, even if they themselves are not aware of it. Young people should realize that no matter how much they refuse to recognize it, their parents care for them, they worry about them, and their hearts ache for their children.
May these words reach the appropriate individuals who can inspire the young people to higher levels of honor and respect for their cherished parents.
