GOOD MORNING! Two weeks ago the Shabbat of Hanukah coincided with the beginning of the Hebrew month – Rosh Chodesh – and synagogues all over the world had the pretty rare opportunity to remove three Torah scrolls from the Holy Ark to use during the morning service.

Earlier that week I happened to be in a meeting with a local rabbi and he mentioned that this particular Shabbat was a gabbai’s dream. (A gabbai is the person appointed to manage the particulars of the service – a program director of sorts.)

When I asked why, he explained that there was so much going on during the services of a Shabbat that coincides with both Hanukah and Rosh Chodesh, with plenty of opportunities to hand out so many additional honors, that a synagogue gabbai couldn’t help but be super excited.

I told him that I had been a gabbai for almost forty years and yet had no special affinity for this Shabbat over any other. The rabbi asked me, “Do you enjoy telling people what to do or telling them to be quiet? Do you enjoy shooting people dirty looks?” When I responded in the negative, he told me, “You aren’t a real gabbai – a real gabbai loves ‘shushing’ people, a real gabbai loves being in control.”

Of course, this reminds me of a joke. Upon hearing that his mother-in-law was in a terrible car accident, Bob hurries home to pick up his wife and they rush to the hospital. They see her doctor outside the emergency room and they breathlessly ask, “How is she?”

"Well," answers the doctor, “She’s pretty critical right now.”

"Oh thank God! We thought she was seriously hurt.”

"I don’t think you heard what I said – she’s very critical!” said the doctor. They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders, “You’ll get used to it.”

This week I would like to discuss the essence of proper criticism, which is particularly relevant to this Shabbat’s Torah reading.

Reuven, you are my first born [...] unstable like water [...] you desecrated and ascended my bed. Shimon and Levi are brothers [...] in their rage they killed a man and uprooted an ox [...] (49:3-7).

This week's Torah portion contains our forefather Jacob’s final directives to his children, his last will and testament, as it were. Naturally, one would suppose that a final message to one’s child would be one of love and empowerment.

For the most part, Jacob’s individual message to each child was exactly that; describing that particular child’s strength and unique contribution to the family as a whole. Yet, curiously, Jacob also singles out a few of his children for fairly severe criticisms.

Even more troublesome, the criticisms that Jacob levels at his children are related to actions that took place many decades before – almost fifty years prior. If Jacob felt that they should have been criticized for their improper behavior, then why did he wait so long to rebuke them?

The great medieval commentator known as Rashi addresses this question. In his commentary on Deuteronomy 1:3, Rashi explains that Moses waited until the end of his life to admonish the Jewish nation for their many misdeeds in the desert. Rashi points out that Moses followed the example of (his great-great-grandfather) Jacob and waited to rebuke the Jewish people until right before he died.

Rashi goes on to explain that the reason that Jacob waited until the end of his life to criticize his children was because he was concerned that if he had criticized Reuven earlier then he would have driven him away, and that Reuven would consequently attach himself to Jacob’s wicked brother Eisav.

Yet, if that were true, what difference does it make when he criticizes him, either way he may end up driving him away?

Criticism is a very tricky concept. The word criticize is actually derived from the Greek word “kritikos,” which means to judge, and the kritikoi were the judges who gave verdicts. Thus, the very word itself implies a dispassionate view of the circumstances.

Most people do not understand this. They criticize actions of others that they find bothersome, not behavior that is detrimental to the perpetrator’s wellbeing. In other words, our criticism of others is usually about us, not them. A classic example of this is “shushing” others in synagogue.

When criticizing one’s child there is yet another layer of complication. With our children we don’t merely criticize actions that we find annoying; we criticize actions that we feel reflect poorly on us or our family. This comes from the mistaken notion that our children are merely an appendage, an extension of ourselves.

One of the most complicated aspects of parent-child relationships is rooted in the decisions that a child makes for himself/herself regarding profession, spouse, clothing, appearance, etc.

To be sure, often our children make poor decisions, inevitably leading to mistakes. But as much as we would like to help them avoid what we feel are mistakes, we must internalize that their lives are their own and that, in fact, their decisions might actually be the right choice for them. (Of course, there are also some extreme situations in which we must step in to save them from making a critical error, but those should be rare.)

Likewise, our forefather Jacob recognized that criticizing one’s children can be fraught with peril. He was therefore extremely careful about how and when he leveled criticism at his children. To this end, he made two remarkable innovations:

First, he waited until the end of his life. At that point it was clear that the criticism wasn’t about Jacob’s own embarrassment stemming from their behavior. He didn’t have much longer to live and how his sons then chose to lead their lives would have no emotional effect on him. It was thus clear that the criticism was about them, not Jacob.

Second, he didn’t merely criticize their actions; rather, he pointed out character flaws that they could identify and work on to improve themselves. He told Reuven that his impulsive behavior led him to careless and unworthy acts, which ultimately made him undeserving of leadership.

He then told Shimon and Levi that their uncontrolled rage led them to make poor decisions, which could have very well brought peril upon the entire family. By criticizing in such a manner, he conveyed the message that he was simply trying to help his sons – not control them.

This is the key to effective criticism: We must convey that our criticism comes from a place of care and concern and not because we are bothered by what they did or because their actions reflect poorly on us. We need to express that our criticism stems from our love for them and a true desire to see them get the most out of life.

Vayechi, Genesis 47:28 - 50:26

The parsha, Torah portion, opens with Jacob on his deathbed 17 years after arriving in Egypt. Jacob blesses Joseph’s two sons, Manasseh (Menashe) and Ephraim (to this day it is a tradition to bless our sons every Shabbat evening with the blessing, “May the Almighty make you like Ephraim and Manasseh” because they grew up in the Diaspora amongst foreign influences and still remained devoted to the Torah. The Shabbat evening blessing for girls is “to be like Sarah, Rivka, Rachel, and Leah”). He then individually blesses each of his sons. The blessings are prophetic and give reproof, where necessary.

A large retinue from Pharaoh’s court accompanies the family to Hebron to bury Jacob in the Ma'arat Hamachpela, the burial cave purchased by Abraham. The Torah portion ends with the death of Joseph and his binding the Israelites to bring his remains with them for burial when they are redeemed from slavery and go to the land of Israel. Thus ends the book of Genesis!

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“Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain –
and most fools do.”
— Benjamin Franklin