“The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice.”
Parshas Emor begins with a specific instruction: “And Hashem said to Moshe, ‘Speak (Emor) to the Kohanim the sons of Aharon and say (v’amarta) to them: Each of you shall not contaminate himself to a dead person among his people.’” (Vayikra 21:1).
Rashi notes the unusual redundancy of the verbs Emor and v’amarta (say and say). He explains that this serves as an exhortation for adults to "warn" (l’hazhir) the younger generation. According to the Tur, this is the Biblical foundation for the mitzvah of Chinuch—the sacred duty of educating our children.
The Power of "Soft Power"
The Modzitzer Rebbe, in his work Divrei Yisrael, observes that while the Torah often uses the phrase “Daber... v’amarta” (Speak harshly... and say softly), this is the only place it uses a "double dose" of softness: Emor... v’amarta.
In Hebrew, Daber implies an intense, direct form of speech, while Amira is gentle. To reach a child, the Torah suggests that intensity is counterproductive. "Connection is the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued."
By using only soft language, the Torah teaches that the only way to successfully influence children is through excessive gentleness. In previous generations, the "left hand pushing away and the right hand drawing near" might have worked. But today? We need both hands drawing them closer. As the saying goes, "You cannot influence someone you haven't connected with first."
The Wisdom of the "Fool"
There is a fascinating Midrash in Yalkut Shimoni about a man who left a will stating his son could only inherit his estate once he became a shoteh (a fool). Perplexed, the son sought out Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korcha. When he arrived, he looked through the window and saw the great Rabbi crawling on his hands and knees with a pacifier in his mouth, playing with his young son.
The Rabbi explained: To be a parent is to be a "shoteh." It requires an adult—perhaps a prestigious lawyer, a CEO, or a Great Rav—to shed their ego and get down into the sandbox.
“Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children, play is serious learning. Play is really the work of childhood.”
This is the essence of Emor v’amarta. Chinuch isn’t about lecturing from a pedestal; it’s about "becoming a fool"—humbling ourselves to meet our children where they are. It’s about making Yiddishkeit exciting and pleasurable rather than a cold set of demands.
The Dubno Maggid: When the Gift Becomes a Burden
“The danger of rituals is that we begin to value the form over the spirit.” — Unknown
In the second half of the Parsha, we read about the Moadim (the Festivals). These days are described as "Hashem’s appointed festivals"—a "moed" is literally an appointment or a rendezvous with the Divine.
However, by the time of the Prophet Isaiah, the tone changes. Hashem says, “My Soul detests your new moons and your appointed times; they have become a burden upon Me.” (Yeshaya 1:14). How did a "date with God" become a burden to Him?
The Dubno Maggid explains with a parable:
A wealthy man’s children were gravely ill. A doctor moved in and created a life-saving medicine. The children recovered. Later, the illness returned, but the children refused the medicine because it tasted bitter. The doctor, unable to help, eventually left. Whenever the father saw the doctor in the street, he would scowl.
The doctor asked, "Why are you angry? I gave you the cure; they just won't take it." The father replied, "I’m not angry at you. But every time I see you, I am reminded of the opportunity my children are throwing away. You are a walking reminder of what could have been."
“The greatest tragedy in life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it.”
The Moadim are like that doctor. They are "appointments" designed to heal our souls, to slow us down, and to reconnect us with our families and our Creator. But when we treat a Yom Tov as merely a "feeding fest" or a logistical headache, we miss the medicine.
The Seforno points out that the Torah calls them My festivals, but Isaiah calls them Your festivals. When we remove the sanctity and the spiritual growth, the holiday stops being a "Meeting with God" and becomes just another day of mundane human pleasure.
The Takeaway:
This week, let us embrace the "double dose of softness" with our children and our students. Let’s be willing to "act the fool" to build a connection. And as we approach our own sacred times, let’s ensure they remain appointments with the Divine, rather than just dates on a calendar.
Good Shabbos!
