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Draft edition

By Rabbi Shalom Landau.

Blunting His Teeth

Opening There is a simple question worth asking before Passover, and not everyone asks it: Where does the wicked son come from? The Haggadah, the book we read at the Passover meal, introduces us to four sons: the wise son, the wicked son, the simple son, and the son who does not know how to ask. We read about them, we explain them, and we teach them. But look closely at the text. What is the difference between the wise son’s question and the wicked son’s question? Both ask about Passover. Both look at the same table. The difference is not in the question. The difference is in the answer each one received. What Breaks a Soul A child can survive doing something wrong. He can survive confusion, doubt, and even a fall. What is much harder for him to survive is being treated as if the fall is who he is. This is where the real pain lies. A father gets angry. A teacher lets his disappointment be heard. A child shows weakness and is met with shame and rejection. In moments like these, the child learns something very deep. He does not learn that what he did was bad. He learns that he is bad. Once a person believes there is no good in him, his weakness stops being something that happened. It becomes who he is. A hard moment does not break a soul. Losing faith in that soul is what breaks it. A New Look at the Four Sons Let us go back to the Haggadah. It says: “You, too, blunt his teeth.” The commentators explain that this is a sharp answer, meant to deter him. But there is a simple insight here that we need to stop and think about. If the wicked son’s question and the wise son’s question are so alike, what made the wicked son wicked? The answer he received. We told him, “Blunt his teeth,” and with that we sealed his fate. We did not correct him. We did not draw him closer. We labeled him. We called him “wicked,” and now he believes that this is who he is. We turned him into the wicked son. This is not an accusation. It is an insight. A parent may react to his child’s fall with anger and frustration. He does this not because he is bad, but because he is afraid of losing his child. Without noticing, he may end up doing exactly what he fears. The rejection that was meant to hold the child back is sometimes what pushes him away. Turning It Toward Ourselves But do not think this is only about raising children. One of the deepest ideas in Hasidic teaching is that a Jew, every Jew, is defined at his core by his soul. He is defined by the divine spark inside him, and not by the outward things he has done or that have happened to him. His true self is not defined by his hardest moment. This also touches on how we look at ourselves. How many times does a Jew fall and feel let down by himself? Then the “blunting of the teeth” comes from inside. He is the one telling himself, “This is just how I am. I’m worthless. There’s no point.” In that moment his weakness begins to become who he is, this time from the inside. The Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, teaches that the divine soul is a person’s true essence, and the animal soul is only its outer clothing. The struggle is not who you are. It is your inner work. And there is a huge difference between “I am fighting” and “I am like this.” In Closing So what is left for us to do? Our task is to be the ones who do not lose faith. This is true for us as parents, as teachers, and as friends. Above all, it is true for us as Jews who are working on ourselves. We need faith in the inner good of others, and faith in the inner good of ourselves. This does not mean ignoring what was done. It means separating the deed from the person. The deed was bad. He is not. When a person feels that others see the good in him, during his fall and after it, he has the strength to get up. He does not get up by running away from his failure. He gets up because he believes that his failure is not the last word about him. This is the true power of the commandment “Love your fellow as yourself.” It is not a feeling. It is a way of seeing. It means seeing in your friend, in your child, and in yourself what is truly there.

Putting It into Practice

The next time a child, a student, or a friend falls, stop for a moment before you react. Ask yourself: Is my reaction about the deed, or about the person? If you feel that you are speaking to the “wicked son” in him, know that you may be making that side of him stronger. Speak to the spark. It is there.

Questions and answers

Q: Where does the wicked son of the Passover Haggadah come from?

Rabbi Landau answers: There is a simple question worth asking before Passover, and not everyone asks it: Where does the wicked son come from? The Haggadah, the book we read at the Passover meal, introduces us to four sons: the wise son, the wicked son, the simple son, and the son who does not know how to ask. We read about them, we explain them, and we teach them. But look closely at the text. What is the difference between the wise son’s question and the wicked son’s question? Both ask about Passover. Both look at the same table. The difference is not in the question. The difference is in the answer each one received.

Q: What really breaks a child's soul after he does something wrong?

Rabbi Landau answers: A child can survive doing something wrong. He can survive confusion, doubt, and even a fall. What is much harder for him to survive is being treated as if the fall is who he is. This is where the real pain lies. A father gets angry. A teacher lets his disappointment be heard. A child shows weakness and is met with shame and rejection. In moments like these, the child learns something very deep. He does not learn that what he did was bad. He learns that he is bad. Once a person believes there is no good in him, his weakness stops being something that happened. It becomes who he is. A hard moment does not break a soul. Losing faith in that soul is what breaks it.

Q: How does the idea that a Jew is defined by his soul apply to how we see ourselves?

Rabbi Landau answers: But do not think this is only about raising children. One of the deepest ideas in Hasidic teaching is that a Jew, every Jew, is defined at his core by his soul. He is defined by the divine spark inside him, and not by the outward things he has done or that have happened to him. His true self is not defined by his hardest moment. This also touches on how we look at ourselves. How many times does a Jew fall and feel let down by himself? Then the “blunting of the teeth” comes from inside. He is the one telling himself, “This is just how I am. I’m worthless. There’s no point.” In that moment his weakness begins to become who he is, this time from the inside.

Q: What is our task as parents, teachers and friends when someone falls?

Rabbi Landau answers: So what is left for us to do? Our task is to be the ones who do not lose faith. This is true for us as parents, as teachers, and as friends. Above all, it is true for us as Jews who are working on ourselves. We need faith in the inner good of others, and faith in the inner good of ourselves. This does not mean ignoring what was done. It means separating the deed from the person. The deed was bad. He is not. When a person feels that others see the good in him, during his fall and after it, he has the strength to get up. He does not get up by running away from his failure. He gets up because he believes that his failure is not the last word about him.

Q: How should I react the next time a child or student falls?

Rabbi Landau answers: The next time a child, a student, or a friend falls, stop for a moment before you react. Ask yourself: Is my reaction about the deed, or about the person? If you feel that you are speaking to the “wicked son” in him, know that you may be making that side of him stronger. Speak to the spark. It is there.

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