The Builder and the Manager: On Raising Children

“Teach a child in the way that is right for him; even when he grows old, he will not turn away from it.” A Father’s Question “Teach a child in the way that is right for him; even when he grows old, he will not turn away from it.” A father sits and looks at his grown son, and in his heart he admits: I invested. I taught. I guarded. I supervised. So where is the “he will not turn away from it”? Where is the building? What happened? This is not the pain of one father alone. It is the pain of a whole generation. But maybe the question itself holds the mistake. Maybe what we thought was raising children was never raising children at all. The Parable: A Builder and a Manager Let us tell a parable. There is the builder who puts up a building, and there is the manager who runs a building. Both are on the site. Both are busy. Both check, give instructions and keep an eye on things. But there is one basic difference between them. When the builder finishes his work and leaves, there is a building. He is gone, and the building stays. The walls stand. The foundations hold. The roof does not fall in. The builder does not need to be there for the building to last. But when the manager leaves, there is no manager. That’s it. The workers wander around, but there is no direction. No one decides. No one coordinates. It was his presence that created the order, and when his presence is gone, the order falls apart. The idea itself is not so new. But its lesson is what sets the heart on fire. The Lesson: Raising Children Became Managing In our generation, raising children has moved from the builder’s field to the manager’s field. The modern parent is busy day and night. He manages schedules. He puts out fires. He responds to behavior. He reacts to every provocation. He punishes and rewards, supervises and approves. There is not a moment of rest. He is a manager. And, it seems, a good one. But when the child grows up and leaves home, what is left? Was a building built? Are there inner walls, foundations of faith, vessels of good character? Or is all that is left a habit of being managed from the outside, so that the grown man cannot manage himself, because no one ever taught him to live from the inside? This, in my opinion, is the root of the crisis. And that is why so many, far too many, “leave the path” the moment the management is taken away from them. Going Deeper: Inside and Outside In the Torah’s story of Abraham, there is a word from the same Hebrew root as “teaching a child.” Rashi, the great Bible commentator, explains that this word means a beginning. Raising a child is a starting point. It is an opening, the laying of a foundation. It is not one more step in a long chain of steps. The same root appears in “the dedication of the house.” That means setting the house apart for its purpose once, at its foundation. It is not done again each day. So when the Torah says, “Teach a child,” it is speaking about building something on the inside. It is not speaking about managing from the outside. Hasidic teaching puts it in its own holy language. “Managing” is work on the outside: on behavior, on reactions, on supervision from outside. “Building” is work on the inside: shaping the soul, planting true awe of Hashem and true love, and strengthening the “wise one” inside a person. Maimonides, the great medieval sage, teaches us in his laws of character that character traits are not rules of behavior. They are the way the soul itself moves. They are not what a person does, but what he is. For that you do not need a manager. For that you need a builder. This is a powerful foundation that Rabbi Shalom DovBer of Lubavitch, a great Hasidic master, wrote in his short work known as Kuntres Umaayan. He wrote that the purpose of a school for young men is not to put knowledge into their heads. Its purpose is to build them, “to make human beings.” A whole building, not the management of an institution. Closing: The Builder’s Guarantee So go back to the verse: “Even when he grows old, he will not turn away from it.” This is not a promise that depends on a miracle. It is a builder’s guarantee. If you built, the building stands. The builder has already gone, but the walls are there. If raising a child means building on the inside, building faith, character, a feeling of “I am a Jew,” then “he will not turn away” comes naturally. He simply will not turn away, because this is who he is. But if you only managed, then when the manager leaves, there is nothing. Dear fellow Jew, do not be a manager. Do not spend your whole day putting out fires. That is not what was asked of you. Be a builder. Build. Build one corner of truth that will still be there when you are not nearby. One word spoken from the heart and not from pressure. One moment in which your child felt that he is a soul, and not a problem that needs solving. The builder does not have to stay on the site forever. He has to build well. Do this, and “even when he grows old,” you will be able to rest calmly. Because the building will stand.