“You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.”
Parshas Emor opens with a linguistic redundancy: “Say (Emor) to the Kohanim… and you shall say (v’Amarta) to them.” (Vayikra 21:1). Rashi explains that this extra "saying" is a command for adults to warn their children.
Usually, the Torah teaches the obligation of Chinuch (education) through subtle hints or variations in spelling. Why, specifically regarding the laws of Tumas Kohanim (priestly purity), does the Torah need a glaring "double-speak"?
The Law of Competing Influences
Rav Zalman Sorotzkin, in his work Oznaim La’Torah, offers a brilliant psychological insight. In the self-help world, we often talk about the "Environment vs. Willpower." Most of the time, the environment wins.
When a parent tells a child to keep Shabbos or eat Kosher, the "street" (the Jewish community and peers) usually reinforces that message. But the Kohen has a unique challenge. When all the other kids are playing ball near a cemetery, the young Kohen is told, "You can't go there."
In this instance, the home and the street are at war. The peers are providing a powerful counter-narrative to the father's instructions.
“Repetition is the mother of learning, the father of action, which makes it the architect of accomplishment.”
When the street isn’t reinforcing your values, you cannot simply say it once. You need Emor AND v’Amarta. You need to redouble your efforts, offer deeper explanations, and provide constant, gentle reinforcement. When the external world pulls one way, the home must pull twice as hard—not with more force, but with more consistency.
The "Invisible Curriculum" of the Home
This theme—that a child’s behavior is a mirror of their surroundings—takes a darker turn in the story of Miriam, the daughter of the priestly family of Bilgah.
The Talmud (Succah 56b) relates that Miriam became an apostate, married a Greek officer, and eventually entered the Holy Temple to kick the Altar. She screamed, "Lukas, Lukas! (Wolf, Wolf!) How much longer will you consume the money of Israel without helping them?" Because of her actions, her entire family was penalized.
The Sages explain: "What a child speaks in the street, he heard at home from his father or mother."
“Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.”
The family wasn't punished because Miriam married a Greek—sometimes children fall under the spell of the "street" despite a parent's best efforts. The family was punished for her cynicism. The idea that the Temple was a "waste of money" wasn't something she learned in the Greek streets; it was an attitude she likely absorbed at her own dinner table.
The Modern "Street" is Everywhere
Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky notes that in Biblical times, daughters were mostly influenced by the home, while sons were influenced by the street. Today, that "hermetically sealed" home environment no longer exists.
The Mishna Berura points out that we no longer penalize a father for the choices of his children, because the "street" (now amplified by social media and the digital world) is an omnipresent force.
“The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice.”
However, the lesson of Miriam bas Bilgah remains a warning for us all. While we cannot control every influence our children encounter, we can control the "background noise" of our homes. Do they hear us complaining about the cost of tuition? Do they hear us mocking communal leaders? Do they hear us treating our religious obligations as a "burden"?
If the "street" is going to be loud, our homes must be warm, consistent, and—above all—sincere.
The Takeaway
In a world where the "street" is constantly shouting at our children, one "Saying" is not enough. We need the Emor of clear instruction and the v’Amarta of a lived, positive example. Our children may eventually walk the street, but they should always carry the melody of a loving, sincere home in their hearts.
Good Shabbos!
