Maybe your parents didn't sign you up for piano lessons, or you never got that trip to Disney World. But what about something more fundamental, something tied to your very identity? That's what we're diving into today: the idea of personal responsibility when it comes to fulfilling obligations that, ideally, our parents would have taken care of.
Our text from Yalkut Shimoni on Torah, specifically section 225, grapples with this very issue. It all starts with the verse in Exodus 13:13: "And first born of your children you shall redeem." The question posed is: what happens if a father doesn't redeem his firstborn son? Does the obligation simply vanish?
The text teaches us to say, "And all first born of my sons I will redeem" (Exodus 13:15). Rabbi Yosei the Galilean makes a fascinating comparison. The Torah commands us to both redeem our sons and teach them Torah. If a father neglects the latter, the son is obligated to teach himself. So, shouldn't the same logic apply to redemption?
But then comes the pushback. Maybe, just maybe, redeeming your son isn't quite as important as teaching him Torah. After all, what if we applied this logic to circumcision? If a father fails to circumcise his son, the son certainly has to circumcise himself. But according to Yalkut Shimoni, you can't necessarily apply the same standard to redemption.
So, where does that leave us? The text presents a fascinating principle: Just because something is a command for the father doesn't automatically mean the son must step in if the father fails. Each commandment, like circumcision, Torah study, and redemption, has its own unique weight and implications.
Yalkut Shimoni then arrives at a powerful conclusion. There's a common thread running through these commandments: they are all things a father should do for his son. But if the father doesn't fulfill his duty, the son is obligated to do it himself. And from here, the rabbis derive a list of core obligations: to circumcise his son, to redeem him, to teach him Torah, to teach him a craft, and to marry him off. Rabbi Akiva even adds teaching him to swim! And Rebbi includes manners.
This brings us to the famous passage about the four sons from the Passover Haggadah. This section of the text draws a connection between the verse "It will be when your son will ask you tomorrow saying" (Exodus 13:14) and the different types of children who might ask about the meaning of Passover.
But the text makes it clear that "tomorrow" has multiple meanings. It can refer to the very next day, as in "Tomorrow the sign shall come to pass" (Exodus 8:19), or it can refer to a time far in the future, as in "Tomorrow your children will say to our children" (Joshua 22:24).
And then, the four sons: wise, simple, wicked, and one who doesn't know to ask. As we find in Deuteronomy 6:20, each son requires a different approach. The wise one asks about the details ("What are the decrees, laws and rules?"), and you explain the intricacies of Passover. The simple one asks, "What is this?", and you tell him, "With a strong hand he took us out" (Exodus 13:14).
The wicked son asks, "What is this work for you?" By excluding himself from the collective, he demonstrates his heresy. The text says we should respond, "It is because of what the LORD did for me when I went free from Egypt" (Exodus 13:8) emphasizing that he wouldn't have been freed. And the one who doesn't know to ask? You must proactively teach him, as it says, "You shall tell your son on that day."
So, what's the takeaway here? It's about responsibility, both parental and personal. It's about recognizing that we are part of a chain of tradition, where each generation has a duty to the next. And even if that chain is broken, we have the power – and perhaps the obligation – to repair it ourselves. What traditions, obligations, and values have been passed down to you? And what will you do to ensure they continue to resonate for generations to come?