I do not know exactly how Israel ranked on the international
mathematics test for youth, even though during the preceding
weeks they totally neglected all of their other studies to
focus on feverish preparations, but the State of Israel can
console itself in the fact that the great United States of
America was not among the leaders but was nosed out of 28th
place by Portugal.
The issue is not the level of math studies among Israeli
youth but rather a fundamental issue of education and touches
on every subject: there can be no success in any area, be it
secular or religious, without reiterating over and over again
the need to accept a yoke — to take responsibility and
show a sense of earnestness. Ever since certain people began
to invite their friends to their son's no'am ol
mitzvos rather than to a bar mitzvah and began to flee
from the yoke of responsibility by looking for the
pleasantness in every facet of life, we have declined
precipitously, much more than can be accounted for by
yeridas hadoros.
Undoubtedly those who formulated the bold change in the
traditional appellation for the bar mitzvah celebration after
identifying a need in our impoverished generation, wanted to
instill in the young bar mitzvah boy the sense that the yoke
of mitzvas is a pleasant matter in order to make the Torah
and mitzvas beloved in his eyes. Indeed every sensible person
who has the merit to keep mitzvas feels the great
pleasantness in them.
But this important definition must be accompanied by a
suitable explanation, for sometimes the young man takes in
the pleasantness and does mitzvas for the sake of the
pleasantness and then, when he finds something a bit
unpleasant or finds another pursuit to be more pleasant, he
gives preference to the other, more immediately pleasant
pursuit.
The "old-fashioned" style of education used the term ol
mitzvos according to its simple meaning, and taught youth
that it was better to accept the yoke without "additions."
They were taught to be responsible and consistent, without
sugar-coating everything in "pleasantness."
Actually the proponents of pleasantness are right, for
Mesillas Yeshorim begins by stating man was created in
order to derive pleasure from Hashem. Yet it seems that just
as everybody acknowledges that one must accept the yoke when
it comes to the Kingdom of Heaven, similarly we must accept
the yoke of mitzvas. And here lies the secret of success.
Success comes through acceptance, through absolute
commitment.
Am Yisroel received two crowns not when it began to observe
mitzvas but at Matan Torah, when it accepted the yoke of
Torah and mitzvas.
Seeking pleasantness in every aspect of life started when the
whole of humanity began to pursue liberty and freedom from
the dictators and despots who ruled the world. And after
getting a taste of freedom they failed to sober themselves.
It is incumbent upon us to come to our senses and recognize
the inherent danger in the pursuit of pleasantness, which is
no less wrong than the danger and hardship lying in the
tyrannical regimes that once reigned.
The pleasantness will eventually arrive, but in order to
reach the yearned-for pleasantness one must invest great
efforts and realize that sometimes the longer path is shorter
(and the shorter path longer). Chazal provide us with the
parable of the path beginning with thorns—where no
pleasantness is to be found—that must be traversed
before reaching smooth ground.
One dear avreich, a talmid of HaRav Meir
Chodosh zt"l, told me that when he was a
chosson he spoke with the Mashgiach about saying a
shtikel Torah during Sheva Brochos, noting that
at the time it was not so common to say a shtikel
Torah, possibly in order to avoid embarrassing
chassanim who had none to say. The Mashgiach replied
immediately, saying perhaps it would be good to cause
embarrassment to make sure everyone has one.
Well said! Ever since we began to become overly-sentimental
softies who take pains not to embarrass he who has none, we
brought about a situation in which indeed he has none, for
necessity is the secret to our existence, both spiritual and
physical. Without this foundation we will achieve nothing.
Today we teach children that nothing is mandatory, that
everything lies in the realm of good advice and those who
heed it will find pleasantness and blessings for good. We are
afraid to burden the child with responsibility, taking pity
on him due to his tender age, and fail to understand that
this type of rachmonus destroys every effort toward
building him spiritually.
*
I would like to conclude with a story: Once a coachman came
to town ready to work. He was told the town already had a
longstanding coachman whom he would have to speak with before
taking any work. He went. The veteran coachman turned to the
new coachman and said, "You will have to pass the wagon-
driving test. If you pass the test you will begin work. But
if not, you must leave town."
Confident in his ability the new coachman agreed. Then the
veteran coachman begins asking questions. "What would you do,
worthy coachman, if you started to sink in the mud?"
"Simple," says the new coachman. "I would reduce the load by
taking all of the heavy items out of the wagon."
"Good," says the veteran coachman. "And what if you take
things out and the wagon is still stuck in the mud?"
"Then I would ask the passengers to step down as well."
"Good," continues his questioner. "And what if even then the
wagon remains in the mud?"
The new coachman raises his hands in defeat. "I have no idea
what to do in such circumstances."
"If so, do you recall the condition we established: that if
you failed the test you must leave the town?"
"Yes, I do," says the new coachman, "but please reveal to me
what you, as a coachman of long experience, would do in such
a situation."
At this point the veteran coachman raises his head and booms
triumphantly, "A veteran coachman knows better than to drive
into the mud."
This telling story illustrates the point at hand. The old
approach to education avoided the mud and taught young people
to fear getting mired in the mud, whether in gashmiyus
or ruchniyus. One simply does not go in.
Now that experts have popped up in every field, there are
experts available to extract students from every type of mud
they may encounter. They really are well-trained and their
expertise should not be belittled, but their ability to
succeed is limited to a certain degree, for we fail to heed
the veteran coachman's advice. There are experts in economics
with sterling advice and knowledge on damage control and
extracting even an entire country from the mud, but there is
not even a single wise man like the veteran coachman who can
teach an entire nation how to avoid getting stuck in the
mud.
There are experts in education who specialize in rescuing
young people from their travails and in weaning them of
various evils, yet so far not a single chochom has
risen up to issue a warning not to get stuck in the mud.
Instead we have become like the new coachman who has an idea
and a solution for every situation but has not attained the
wisdom of the veteran coachman, who must have gained his
knowledge from past experience.
What is the difference between a wise man and a clever man?
The clever man knows how to extricate himself from situations
that the wise man knows how to avoid.
Many "clever" people have emerged in our generation in every
field. Each of them is a true craftsman and an expert in his
field with a certificate to prove that he knows how to
rehabilitate innumerable people and put them back on their
feet. But has anyone stopped to think why we need so many
forms of rehabilitation to put people back on their feet? Are
we dealing with the disabled?
Without an understanding of accepting the yoke and taking
responsibility one may indeed come to be in need of
rehabilitation, chas vesholom.
