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Nick and Jake and the Pains of Parenthood Some of you may have heard about Nick Crews, a retired submarine commander of the British Royal Navy, who, last month, created an international sensation with an email that he sent to his three children. The email was released to the press by his daughter, with his permission.  I am going to read some parts of the email. Please bear with me, as some of you may find it difficult to listen to. “It is obvious that none of you has the faintest notion of the bitter disappointment each of you has in your own way dished out to us,” he wrote to his three adult children. “We are constantly regaled with chapter and verse of the happy, successful lives of the families of our friends and relatives and being asked of news of our own children and grandchildren. I wonder if you realize how we feel — we have nothing to say which reflects any credit on you or us.” With that introduction, he hits them where it hurts. “Each of you is well able to earn a comfortable living and provide for your children, yet each of you has contrived to avoid even moderate achievement. Far from your children being able to rely on your provision, they are faced with needing to survive their introduction to life with you as parents,” he complains. “I can now tell you that I for one, and I sense Mum feels the same, have had enough of being forced to live through the never-ending bad dream of our children's underachievement and domestic ineptitudes. I want to hear no more from any of you until, if you feel inclined, you have a success or an achievement or a REALISTIC plan for the support and happiness of your children to tell me about.” He signs the email, “I am bitterly, bitterly, disappointed, Dad.” Nick Crews’ email was immediately dubbed “The Crews Missile” and unleashed a storm of commentary both for and against his words and tactics.  David Brooks of the New York Times labeled it “a lousy leadership model” that tried to “bludgeon bad behavior.”  Others thought it was about time that this father broke his silence and gave his children a piece of his mind. It made me think of this week’s parasha. It is the final chapter of the Book of Genesis. Jacob, reunited with his family in Egypt, is about to die. Before he does, he gathers his children around his deathbed for his final words to them.  Like Nick Crews, Jacob has some things to get off his chest.  Reuven, Jacob’s first born approaches.  Jacob remembers how young he was when Reuben was born, how excited he was to be a father for the first time, the hopes and dreams he had for Reuben in his youth. “But,” continues Jacob, “You turned out to be an impetuous person, you disrespected me, you desecrated our home with your reckless and immoral behavior. Because of how you have acted, you have forfeited your right to leadership in our family. ” With these final words from his father, Reuben is dismissed. Next, Simeon and Levi approach their father.  “Ah,” says Jacob, “two sons who are so unlike me.  I am a builder, but the two of you are destroyers.  Cursed be your rage, for in your anger you murdered the entire community of Shechem, when their Prince kidnapped your sister Dina.” With that, they take leave of their father. Nick Crews and Jacob – two fathers who are bitterly disappointed in how their children – in Jacob’s case some of his children – turned out.  Both fathers held their tongues for a long, long, time, but eventually felt compelled to speak.  What does Judaism say about this?  What are the obligations of a child to his or her parents?  Must children give Nachas to their parents?  “Nachas” being a sense of pride and pleasure at the accomplishments of our children –the very thing that Nick Crews complains that he DOES NOT get from his offspring.  Rabbi Jonah Gerondi, a 13th century Spanish Sage wrote, “Now the essence of the honor of parents is to give them pleasure, whether in words or in deeds. And he who pains them by his speech (or actions) bears an insupportable sin….” Noam Zion of the Hartman Institute in Jerusalem labels this maximalist position, “The Yoke of Nachas.” It leaves no room for the child to live their own life, make their own decisions, and to suffer from own mistakes.  My own feeling is that one does the best with one’s children when your are raising them and try to instill in them the values and skills they will need to make their way in the world.  Then they need to go out and live their own lives, and make choices, perhaps, that we would not have made for them, choices that we can see may not be the best ones for them. But we, as parents, need to accept their choices, support them where we can, try to understand them, and, above all, continue to love them.  Of course, it is not that simple. Rabbi Judith Edelstein writes beautifully of the conflicting tensions within all parents when we have something we want to say and wonder whether we should say it: “What guidelines should we follow when we choose what to say and how to speak our "truth" to our adult children, not only at significant moments but also during every day communications? Is honesty the best policy, or is it wiser to restrain ourselves, despite our insights and desire to advise?  I have been pondering this dilemma for the last few years as my children have become adults, and I struggle with my own urge to continue to teach them. Are my words for their benefit or are they really about my own need to retain control? I think about this because I am concerned about my final legacy and realize that all the conversations between now and my final words will have a cumulative impact.”  The Midrash explains why Jacob waited until he was on his deathbed to rebuke his children.  “I did not rebuke you all these years,” Jacob tells his children, “so that you would not leave me and stay with my brother Esau.”  Jacob knows that criticizing ones children can drive them away and make matters far worse than they otherwise would be. The Stone Chumash comments on this. “This implies a general rule for those who wish to admonish others in a constructive way. They must weigh their words carefully, lest their sincere comments do more harm than good.”  Shabbat Shalom