
September 11, 2008
If a man has a wayward and defiant son who does not heed his father or his mother and does not obey them even after they discipline him, his father and mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his town at the public place of his community. They shall say to the elders of his town, ‘This son of ours is disloyal and defiant; he does not heed us. He is a glutton and a drunkard.’ Thereupon the men of his town shall stone him to death. Thus you will sweep out evil from your midst; all Israel will hear and be afraid.” (Deuteronomy 21:18-21)
Can it be that God really wants us to execute disobedient children? It’s not only we modern Jews who find this law pretty extreme. In the Talmud in Sanhedrin, the rabbis dealt with the law of the rebellious son by means of an exquisitely close reading of the text.
The desire to do something wrong isn’t a sin — as long as you don’t act on it.
First, the Torah says “ben,” a word that means son but is frequently understood to mean child. But not here; the Mishna says — a son, but not a daughter. Then we learn that the law cannot apply to a minor, one who is not yet bar mitzva, because he has not yet reached the age of responsibility for the mitzvot and is therefore not subject to judicial punishment. But because the Torah says “ben,” it cannot be referring to a full-grown man who is no longer under his parents’ authority. Therefore, the rabbis limit the period during which a child may be declared a rebellious son to a maximum of three months from the time he becomes bar mitzva.
However, this still leaves a window during which parents might bring their son to be executed, so the Mishna continues: The Torah says, “his father and mother,” so both parents must be living and both must agree to bring him to the elders; his parents “shall take hold of him,” so neither can be missing a hand or a finger; “and bring him,” so neither can be a amputee, lame, or limping; “They shall say,” so neither can be mute; “this son of ours,” so neither can be blind; “he does not heed us,” so neither can be deaf.
The Mishna also says that “if his mother is not fit for his father,” the boy cannot be declared a rebellious son. In the gemara, Rabbi Yehudah explains that this last statement means that the parents must match physically — they must sound alike, look alike, and be the same height.
By this point, it’s hard to imagine that any parents could meet the criteria required to declare their child a rebellious son. But just in case someone were to try, the gemara concludes, “a case of a rebellious son never was and never will be. So why was it written? Study [it] and receive a reward.”
Still, if the law of the rebellious son is strictly hypothetical, never intended to be applied, why is it in the Torah? With 612 other mitzvot, we don’t really need hypothetical laws to promote Torah study. So this law must serve an important purpose.
And I believe it does.
Even with the best kids in the world, parenting is sometimes incredibly difficult and stressful. And so, at some point every parent — perhaps dealing with an infant who won’t stop crying, or a toddler who has just discovered the word “no,” or a teenager who will only communicate by shrugging and rolling her eyes — at some point every parent has said, “I’m gonna kill that kid,” and at least for a moment has really meant it.
The Torah says, okay, it’s normal to feel that way sometimes — that momentary impulse doesn’t make you a monster or a horrible parent — and then it lays out a legal procedure to prevent parents from acting on that feeling engendered in the heat of the moment.
The Torah doesn’t say, “You must not feel that way.” After all, you can’t control what pops into your head. Human beings feel anger, lust, greed, jealousy, and much more. It’s hard to imagine that anyone makes it through even a single day without some negative, even sinful thoughts. But taken by themselves, momentary thoughts and feelings have no force. The thought, the desire to do something wrong isn’t a sin — as long as you don’t act on it.
The Torah never commands us not to have negative or immoral thoughts or feelings. What it does command us to do is to control them. We don’t sin with our feelings, because these are beyond our control. We sin by acting on those feelings, because our actions are within our control. This is the crucial — and comforting — message of the law of the rebellious son.
Rabbi Joyce Newmark, a resident of Teaneck, is a former religious leader of congregations in Leonia and Lancaster, Pa.
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