Rabbi Yair Spitz
Former Menahel at Yeshivat Or Chaim
Imagine this: all of your kids are sitting in the den, each on their (or your) electronic device. One is playing a multiplayer game, another binge-watching the latest Netflix show, a third posting Instagram pictures, the fourth texting with friends and the fifth completing an Amazon purchase. You then state: “It’s time to go to Shul for Tefila!” All five immediately put down their devices, get up and follow you out the door. Seems impossible, right?
Somehow, though, despite being surrounded by the most dazzling features of Western Civilization, the most alluring and tempting aspects of Greek Culture, when Matityahu states מי לה’ אלי (‘Whoever is for Hashem – come to me!’) all five of his sons hop to and from that statement of religious devotion began the rebellion of Chanukah.
What did Matityahu do to have five kids who were willing to live in caves in the desert, away from the comfort of their homes and families, sleeping in caves and eating grass, putting their lives on the line for their religious freedom?
One possible answer lay in a less known fact about Matityahu and his family. Matityahu was from the house of Yoyariv, one of the 24 Cohanik families serving on a regular basis in Beit Hamikdash. Like most aristocratic Cohanic families at the time, they lived in Jerusalem. Living in Jerusalem during this era meant having all of the comforts of the big city, including easy access to almost all material goods, culture and society. This as opposed to village life which would have been very limiting both physically and socially. Matityahu was a significant person, a leader among the ruling class with five sons to carry on his name and legacy. Even so, when Antiochus the 4th decreed the edicts against religious observance, Matityahu chose to leave Jerusalem, with all of its comforts and privileges, and return to his ancestral village of Modi’in. It couldn’t have been easy for him, or his sons, to make such a dramatic move. Matityahu was not a young man at this point and leaving Jerusalem meant turning his back not only on the physical comforts of city dwelling, but also leaving behind his political and religious position among the city’s leadership.
Maybe this can explain why when faced with a difficult choice between “going with the flow” or choosing a difficult life based on religious devotion his sons chose the latter. In his act of leaving the negative environment and influences of the city, Matityahu gave up and sacrificed a lot more than his kids needed to. This Mesirut Nefesh undoubtedly deeply impacted his kids.
And this presents to us, as parents and educators, a difficult question – what really matters to us? What are the things our kids think are the most important to us? The answer to this may not be as clear as one may think.
It isn’t just a question of what you talk about with them and claim is important. There are many ways in which we demonstrate what is important to us and what our priorities are. Rather, it is reflected through what we spend our time and money on, what captures our attention on the news and during social gatherings, what we get excited and speak passionately about, what we sacrifice for when the need arises and much more.
An interesting example of this can be found in the Israeli settlement movement. Since the settlement movement began almost 50 years ago, hundreds of thousands of religious families have moved to Judea and Samaria, built homes, institutions and flourishing communities. But for most of them, at some point, living there was not simple.
Some lived for years in secluded areas, in prefab homes, with limited resources. Most have experienced time periods of peril just driving to and from work. Choosing to live and remain there was a continuous act of Mesirut Nefesh. This is one of the explanations given to an interesting phenomenon. As in all religious communities, a certain percentage of children who grow up in settlements do not remain “on the Derech” religiously but it is extremely rare to find any who go “off the Derech” politically. Rather, they retain a political outlook which emphasizes the importance of the entire Land of Israel above other ideals, even such as security and peace.
Although their parents and the community around them care deeply about religious observance, they were and continue to be Moser Nefesh on Eretz Yisrael and therefore that is what is inculcated most deeply within their kids. Even if they were to choose a different path when it comes to their own religious observance, they stayed true to what their parents put their lives on the line for.
Our Mesirut Nefesh transfers to our children on a deeper level than anything specific we can teach them or tell them.
Chanukah is a good time to ask ourselves – what am I Moser Nefesh on? What are the ideals in my life that supersede all others? And in what way is this demonstrated in my life? Do I even have such a thing in my life? Are my kids aware of it? Am I?
