“One who writes his property for others [in his will] and leaves his children [with nothing]—what is done is done, but the spirit of our Sages is not happy with him. Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel says, if his son does not act kshura, properly, we remember him for good” (Bava Batra 133b).
It is not easy to raise children; and raising them to follow in one’s religious path is doubly difficult. G-d chose Abraham to be the founder of His special nation specifically because G-d knew that Abraham “would command his children and his household after him, that they may keep the way of the Lord, to do righteousness and justice” (Breisheet 18:19). Yet despite Abraham’s teaching and leading by example, only one – perhaps two[1] –of his eight children remained within the fold. Yitzchak did somewhat “better”, with one of his two children following in his path. It is only Yaakov who succeeded, after many bumps along the way, in having all of his children carry on the path of the patriarchs.
Yet Yaakov was an exception – and it is no coincidence that we are known as Bnei Yisrael. Neither of Moshe’s children followed in the Jewish path,[2] and the trend continues throughout Tanach. To cite one example, Chizikiyahu, perhaps the most righteous of the Jewish kings, fathered Menashe, the most “anti-religious” of the many non-religious kings.
The trend continues throughout Jewish history, and helps explains why, after 4,000 years, there are only some 12 million Jews in the world. While tragically, many were killed, it is likely that many more converted or assimilated. While this may not be stressed in a typical yeshiva education, such is the reality, which we ignore at our own peril. For example, approximately half of the Jewish people in Spain chose to stay in 1492 and publicly profess loyalty to Christianity.
Today’s generation is one of the more successful in all of Jewish history – certainly the most successful since the Enlightenment—in keeping our children in the fold. This should give us some pride, but is also great cause for concern. The norm – for at least the last 250 years – is for Jews to abandon religious observance and the rate of those leaving observance has begun to rise in recent years.
Whether the trigger point might be poverty, financial corruption of so-called Orthodox Jews, rabbinic infighting or a perception that the Torah itself is no longer a moral beacon, we must be prepared to deal with the questions, doubts and challenges our children will present. If not, we could quickly reach a tipping point where we witness, G-d forbid, a repeat of the dropout rates we witnessed during the first half of the 20th century[3].
What our attitude should be towards our “wayward” children – at least financially—would seem to be the subject of debate of our Mishna cited above. While one may legally disinherit a son, and no reason is given or needed, it is unwise to so do and is frowned upon by our Sages. Who else should be the beneficiaries of our estate if not our children[4]? Rabban Gamliel argues that that may be so under normal circumstances, but if one’s children are not acting properly, he recommends we do exactly that. Why reward a child who does not follow in a proper path[5]?
Interestingly, the Gemara wonders whether Rabban Gamiel is arguing with or explaining and elaborating on the words of the Sages. The Gemara attempts to bring evidence from the actions of Yossi ben Yoezer, the Nassi, official leader, of the Jewish people, who inaugurated the period of the zugot, the five pairs of rabbinic scholars who were the link from the Anshei Knesset Hagedolah to the Tannaim of the Mishna. This great sage had a son ”who did not act properly” whom he disinherited. Whether or not that was appropriate was the subject of Talmudic debate, with the Gemara concluding that no proof could be brought in this particular case – perhaps because this debate took place hundreds of years later, and no one was privy to the exact circumstances of the case.
Nonetheless, the Talmud concludes with Shmuel’s instructions to Rav Yehuda to “keep away when one transfers his inheritance even from an evil son to a good one”.
While Rabban Gamliel’s view may be emotionally satisfying, it is, generally speaking, not good policy. While one might debate the wisdom of disinheriting a truly evil child, there is little doubt that disinheriting somebody today because of one’s religious views is at best counter-productive and a good recipe for family strife.
[1] This is based on the Rabbinic teaching quoted by Rashi (Breisheet 25:17) that Yishmael did teshuva. In any event, even if Yishmael himself followed in the path of Avraham Avinu, sadly, his descendants did not.
[2] In fact, they were involved in idol worship (see Rashi, Shoftim 18:30, Bava Batra 109b). Combined with the teaching that the descendants of Haman studied Torah in Bnei Brak (Sanhedrin 96b), it is easy to see that one never knows what will be from generation to generation. Like wealth, righteousness (and evil) are a galgal chozer baolam, most cyclical.
[3] And as we all know, the rate was astronomical and impacted all. The list of great rabbinic figures at the turn of the 20th century who had children who became irreligious would be almost identical to a list of the greatest rabbis at the turn of the 20th century.
[4] While during one’s lifetime, a person of average means should give 10-20% of net income to charity, at death one should give more, as one also shares part of his capital. Bill Gates and Warren Buffett reflect deep Jewish values with The Giving Pledge. While their focus is on billionaires, even many with much less can and should be leaving 50% of their estate to charity.
[5] The Gemara never quite defines what acting improperly means. The Mishna uses the term kshura, which literally means “straight”. As the Netziv so beautifully explains in his introduction to Breisheet, yashrut, straightness, is defined by our attitudes and actions towards our fellow man. While traditional rabbinic thought—reflecting a much different reality than our own—distinguished little between moral and religious failings, for us today, such a distinction is crucial in our relations with the “non-observant.”
