Monday, December 17, 2007
Trifling
Recently, I had Big Girl on my bed and was getting her dressed for school. She was being uncooperative and did not want to get dressed. She pulled away for me and in doing so bonked her head against the wall. Not hard enough even to cry, but enough to say "ow."
I had the urge to say, "You see? That's G-d punishing you for not listening or cooperating. If you had just gotten dressed like I told you to, this never would have happened."
But I stopped myself before the words came out of my mouth and while I still had time to think about it.
Growing up with watered down Judaism, it was common place for my mother to say something to the above effect when something appeared tit for tat. If you lost your milk money, it was G-d punishing you for not putting it in your backpack like you were told. If you tripped, it was G-d punishing you for talking back to your mother five minutes before. That if something "bad" happened, (although not "too bad") it was a punishment directly from G-d.
But we didn't believe in G-d really, so what did this phrase mean? It meant we were looking for something/one to pin minor inconveniences on? I don't think so.
Maybe it's easier to discuss it from where I'm standing now. I can't imagine saying such a thing because I believe that Hashem is loving, not wrathful. I would prefer to think of Hashem as a doting grandfather rather than a stern taskmaster. I don't believe that hitting your head is a punishment from G-d because you didn't listen to your mother. I hit my head that's all. And it was pre-ordained from the beginning of time that at such and such a time, I would hit my head. Do I have yiras Hashem? Of course I do, that's a big motivation in my yiddishkeit. My my ahavas Hashem is greater. Were there times in my life that the yira outweighed the ahava? Yes, absolutely. And I can even pin those times on when my life seemed the most desolate. But even in the worst of times, it was ultimately my ahavas Hashem, and my belief that Hashem loved me, one of his creatures, that turned my situation around. I would never such words to my child because I believe Hashem has too much love for us to want to hurt us like that.
There again, I go subscribing human attributes to Hashem. Forgive me, I haven't met Hashem yet "in person" so I just have to describe it that way.
What do you guys have to say? What does Chazal have to say? Any of you grow up with this tit-for-tat attitude about Hashem? Any of you hold this way?
I had the urge to say, "You see? That's G-d punishing you for not listening or cooperating. If you had just gotten dressed like I told you to, this never would have happened."
But I stopped myself before the words came out of my mouth and while I still had time to think about it.
Growing up with watered down Judaism, it was common place for my mother to say something to the above effect when something appeared tit for tat. If you lost your milk money, it was G-d punishing you for not putting it in your backpack like you were told. If you tripped, it was G-d punishing you for talking back to your mother five minutes before. That if something "bad" happened, (although not "too bad") it was a punishment directly from G-d.
But we didn't believe in G-d really, so what did this phrase mean? It meant we were looking for something/one to pin minor inconveniences on? I don't think so.
Maybe it's easier to discuss it from where I'm standing now. I can't imagine saying such a thing because I believe that Hashem is loving, not wrathful. I would prefer to think of Hashem as a doting grandfather rather than a stern taskmaster. I don't believe that hitting your head is a punishment from G-d because you didn't listen to your mother. I hit my head that's all. And it was pre-ordained from the beginning of time that at such and such a time, I would hit my head. Do I have yiras Hashem? Of course I do, that's a big motivation in my yiddishkeit. My my ahavas Hashem is greater. Were there times in my life that the yira outweighed the ahava? Yes, absolutely. And I can even pin those times on when my life seemed the most desolate. But even in the worst of times, it was ultimately my ahavas Hashem, and my belief that Hashem loved me, one of his creatures, that turned my situation around. I would never such words to my child because I believe Hashem has too much love for us to want to hurt us like that.
There again, I go subscribing human attributes to Hashem. Forgive me, I haven't met Hashem yet "in person" so I just have to describe it that way.
What do you guys have to say? What does Chazal have to say? Any of you grow up with this tit-for-tat attitude about Hashem? Any of you hold this way?
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4 comments:
this post actually reminded me about the way i talk to a particular kid of mine, who does not listen.
i'll say, "if you had just listened to mommy the first time..." or "if you had listened to mommy that would not have happened..."
i've had kids who didn't listen and then they ended up getting hurt, too (jumping on the bed, etc.). so i'll say, "mommy wants to keep you safe. if you listen to mommy when she tells you x, you'll be okay."
no need to blame it on G-d - let the kid know that THEY need to listen! it's their listening that needs work, not G-d!
(of course, i mean addressing the kid in a loving way, not a punitive/angry kinda way).
and anyway, who needs all that baggage about G-d?
p.s. mazal tov on the raise.
Growing up I was taught to have a tit-for-tat attitude. I've called it "cause and effect Judaism" I don't hold that way anymore to say the least. Though I blogged about it a couple times.
Cause and Effect Judaism
Cause and Effect Judaism: Prayer for the State of Israel
I think kids tend to think in absolutes much more, and I try to be very careful about making things conditional. There's also a tricky balance between not wanting to promise that things will be fine when you can't know that for sure, but also wanting children to feel secure and safe in their relationships with G-d and with their parents.
I remember Ann coming home from preschool once and saying "If you say Shema and HaMalach HaGoel every night, Hashem will make sure that nothing bad happens." To me, this kind of thinking is a setup for disillusionment. But it's also something cheerful that kids should be able to believe to a degree.
I consciously try to phrase things very carefully, as in, "Mommy and Papa tell you to do X in order to keep you safe. If you listen, that will help keep you as safe as possible" without making a promise.
There are too many variables we can't control out there for us to play G-d.
I don't think I grew up with a tit-for-tat attitude towards G-d, and I definitely don't hold by such an attitude today. I don't have kids, but I think my instincts in the kinds of examples you used would be to say that the small, bad things that sometimes happen to us are the natural consequences of not behaving properly.
This is, in general, how I see G-d's hand in the world--G-d set up the world in such a way that when we do things that we shouldn't (and probably know we should), like not listening to our parents or not putting our laundry quarters in the same place each time, we are more likely to be distracted and hit our heads or to have to take a lot of time to hunt down the missing laundry quarters later. It's not a punishment as much as the natural consequence of being careless or distracted. (I don't extend this to anything big and bad, like cancer or genocide. I don't presume to understand a thing about why that happens.)
I also find this attitude of natural consequences to be very helpful when dealing with difficult people who seem to get away with being rude and difficult and whyever does G-d let them get away with it? The truth is, the natural consequence of being a difficult person (rude or whatever) is that people won't like you. So the rude person's punishment is that s/he won't have any friends, which is very sad and better, really, than any wrath I could imagine G-d bringing down on him/her. (Not that I very frequently want such a thing, but there was one time. A male boss cornered me in a windowless office, shut the door, and commenced to scream at me. Indeed, he had no friends at his place of work and his contract was ultimately not renewed.)
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