One of the reasons I love the fall is because of the NFL. Although I need to garner all of my religious faith to remain a Jets fan, I absolutely adore watching the weekly games with my son.
I am sure that I am not the only parent in America who had some explaining to do this past Sunday. Each day it seemed that yet another player was deactivated for horrific acts of domestic violence. The press kept reporting that it was a “bad week for the NFL.” I disagree. It was a bad week for America. Unfortunately, it takes something as popular as the NFL to focus our frenetic, multi-tasking minds on to an issue, which is horrifyingly prevalent across our nation.
This space is too small for me to take it all on, but I would specifically like to address the issue of corporal punishment of children.
Life was different when I was raised in the 1960-70’s. It did not happen often, but my parents hit my siblings and me when they thought we crossed certain lines. With hindsight, I can say some of it was effective parenting and some of it crossed the line.
I can still feel my father’s wallop across my five-year-old rear end, as I was about to run across the street. He gave me one hard spank, grabbed my arm, looked me right into my eyes and said, “You never cross the street without an adult. You could get badly hurt.” I cried from the physical and emotional pain, but I never did it again. My father feared for my life and he protected me in the way he knew best.
My mother also hit me a couple of times and once took it too far. As a divorced parent of four, she tried desperately to keep us in line. We were rambunctious and probably a handful for her. She once hit me with a belt for misbehaving. Even at twelve years of age, I knew then that the punishment did not fit the crime. I told her so and added that I would remember it for the rest of my life. I have remembered it. It did not significantly define my childhood or my life, but there was nothing helpful about it in terms of helping to shape me into a better person. In fact, it took me a while to draw close to her again. We did draw close and were deeply connected until her death.
My wife and I make a conscious choice not to hit our children. I don’t think that makes us better people than those who choose to do so within appropriate boundaries. Our youngest is still not careful enough when she crosses the street. We have talked to and even yelled at her. I wonder sometimes if a “potch on the tuchus” might be more effective. If we don’t get through to her with our current parenting approach, I would regret her getting hurt forever.
Adrian Peterson, the star Minnesota Vikings running back, crossed the line when he beat his son with a tree branch (a “switch”). I don’t think a four-year-old child can do anything which deserves the kind of beating his wounds seem to indicate. Peterson said that he did so because his parents raised him in the same way. That is a dangerous excuse. How we were raised has great impact on us all. But, it is up to each of us how we integrate it all into our own parenting philosophy. The impact of these decisions lasts a lifetime.
Judgment is one of the hallmark themes of this Holy Day season. We should indeed be wary of how we judge others. And, still, we must speak out to protect the innocent, even if they happen to be connected to our favorite players on our favorite teams. We do, indeed, have a lot of explaining to do to our children these days.
These past weeks have brought a recipe of complication and hardship which have sent us reeling in disbelief. From Ebola, to ISIS, to racial strife, to the suicide of a comedic hero, to existential danger in Israel. I find myself waking in the middle of the night to check the news wire and see if things have gotten any worse.
I know I am not alone in my concern for our fragmented world. And yet, I also wonder and worry about us….you and me. I don’t just mean “worry about us” as it relates to world events. I worry that the world keeps throwing so much at us that we stop making time to look in the mirror to be sure that we ourselves are in balance. I am not suggesting that we be selfish. But I wonder if we use the complications of our world as a disguise from doing our own inner-work.
I fret that we obsessively watch the world; react to the world; yell at the world—and, then, well, we forget to look at the mirror and inquire about our own role in the drama we call life.
We rabbis are beginning to prepare for the Jewish Holy Days. The coming season is one we refer to as the season of Teshuvah—of turning; of change, of reflection, of renewal. In the coming weeks, we will be reminded that we all have primordial purpose; a reason we are here on earth. During the year, our vision becomes clouded and unclear. The burden of our responsibility is heavy; indeed, we work diligently to fulfill everything we are supposed to get done and be for everyone else. And, so, we forget to remember why we were put here in the first place. We forget that we are unique and important and vital to the cosmic process of our beautiful universe.
These days, we cannot help but be called by events in the world. We are summoned to do our part in picking up the pieces of brokenness. I hope we feel the need to create clarity in the fog of confusion. But, we are also called upon to change and evolve as human beings if not first, then at least simultaneously.
I am asking my community during these days to pay attention to the complexity of the world, but to also take a few minutes away from the world’s noise and reflect. I am asking them to think about how they are doing; to think about why they are here; to think about how fulfilled they are in life; to think about their relationships; to think about their jobs; to think about how they act; about the way they are treated.
How are we doing in the midst of the madness? While the world has gone a bit mad, I wonder about all of us, who constitute in small pieces, the makeup of our world. The world does not just exist on CNN; it exists within our own reflections as well. When we look, I wonder how it is that we love, speak and share. I wonder about our sense of compassion, sensitivity, jealousy, anger, guilt, joy and sadness. I wonder which parts of ourselves we need to change, so the world can change also.
The world is trembling. There is much for us to say and do in response to it all. But in the meanwhile, I am thinking about what we owe ourselves in our own process of evolution.
I hope as we head towards the Season of Change, that we find the renewal within to help renew our world.