One of our jobs as parents is to help our kids see. When they’re craning their necks, we hoist them on our shoulders. When they’re straining to see the stage, we take them to a better spot. When they can’t make out the board in class, we make sure they have glasses. And when they’re struggling to see the truth, we give them Hashem’s glasses. On the holiday of Shavuot, we celebrate the fact that we can.

Shavuot: the day we learned to see

Shavuot is the day that Hashem gave us His glasses. Two thousand four hundred forty-eight years earlier, Hashem had looked through these same lenses – the Torah – and created what He saw on the other side, as we are taught, “He looked through the Torah and created the world” (Midrash Rabbah Bereishit 1:1; Zohar Teruma 61). Hashem crafted a world with the potential to fulfill the vision He saw when he put on those glasses. To be a place that reflects the principles of truth, justice, divine service, mercy, brotherhood, peace – all of the guiding concepts that describe how things ought to be.

Looking around, it feels like the world is far from its intended state. The profound, almost unbelievable lack of justice and moral clarity we see worldwide is so pervasive that it can feel like we’re living in an alternate universe, where right and wrong have traded places. The good guys are labeled bad, murderers are celebrated as heroes, and victims are condemned as oppressors. We are living in the “upside-down world” described by Chazal (Pesachim 50a), coming to fruition in real time.

Yet we are a people that hold firm to Hashem’s glasses, to the way things should be. When Hashem gave us the Torah at Har Sinai, His message was as straightforward as it was challenging: “Despite the confusion you see in this world, I am giving you a lens through which to perceive things clearly. Train yourselves to wear these glasses and you’ll be able to discern truth, even though it will sometimes feel like you’re the only ones who do.” Not only did Hashem offer us His glasses on that day, He also instructed us to pass them on to our children, as it says, “And you will teach them to your children” (Devarim 6:7).

Giving our kids moral glasses

How do we teach our kids truth? How do we instill them with moral clarity? The first step is to know that we’re allowed to. Children naturally want to see their parents as the arbiters of what is real and good. They don’t know what to believe in this incredibly confusing world, but they trust that we do. They look to us as beacons of truth, so we must strive to be that for them. We are their first set of glasses.

Truth is a psychological anchor. Recognizing the correct from the inaccurate helps kids feel like there is a firm base on which to stand in a world where truth and morality are seen as shifting sand. Kids need the stability of knowing that good and evil don’t change just because people wish they did. When we teach our children that there are objective standards for truth and that goodness has an immutable definition regardless of what culture says, we infuse them with a solid, consistent point of reference, a north star, around which they can orient themselves and their approach to life.

Helping our kids know right from wrong pertains to current events, such as the war in Israel or antisemitism worldwide, but it goes far beyond that. They need to hear a moral perspective about the cultural issues they are likely to encounter, depending on their level of exposure (which is probably higher than you think). For example, secular-religious relations in Israel and progressive ideology in America are two complex issues that are likely to enter our children’s purview. They should see that we have something to say about it, and that our viewpoint is rooted in an authentically Jewish perspective on life. 

We also need to help them understand moral issues closer to home, such as how to think about conflict in the community, how to act towards family members whose lifestyle is antithetical to Torah values, and how to relate to a prominent Jewish figure involved in scandal. Kids hear, think, and talk about all of this anyway. Our job is to ensure that a principled yet compassionate perspective based on the Torah is part of that conversation.

Having what to say

If we’re going to help our kids develop moral clarity, we need to have an inkling of it ourselves. As parents, we must take time to grapple with the issues of our day so that we can deliver a coherent response to our children’s questions. The imperative of dah ma shetashiv, “know what to answer” (Avot 2:14), applies not only to people we encounter in the outside world, but also – and perhaps especially – to the ones in our little world at home.

Fortunately, guidance has never been more at hand. Sefarim and shiurim are available on every conceivable topic. And a Rav is never more than a phone call away. But just as importantly, we have each other, people like you and me who are trying to figure out how to make sense of this perplexing world of ours. If we can look beyond the hock, engage in real conversation, share what we’ve heard and seen, and open ourselves to listening and learning, we will enhance each other’s understanding of the issues that matter to us and our families.

Transmitting knowledge

As parents, we may struggle with how and when to tell our kids what we think. We worry about timing, what words to use, and how we will be received. Often we end up holding our tongues, later wondering what made it so hard for us to use them.

We must find the confidence to step into the role of transmitters of the truth as we understand it. We need not be experts, and it’s fine to say that we don’t know something or need to think about it (as long as we do). But as parents, we all recognize the moment of choice where we either let our kids see us or we don’t. Where we share our deeply held convictions or we hold back, hoping that they’ll figure it out along the way. This is a mistake. If we don’t help them understand right from wrong, truth from falsehood, who else will do it? Moreover, is there anything more essential to bequeath to our kids than the wisdom we’ve accumulated over a lifetime?

Seize the opportunities you have with your children. And there are plenty: While you’re learning together (you may have to go off script), standing around munching in the kitchen, walking to shul, sitting down as a family for dinner, driving to an appointment, putting your child to bed, and of course, the sacred space of the Shabbos table. Any of these venues can be turned from a scene of mundane activity into a setting for a meaningful communication of values.

Kids absorb values by watching us, but they sometimes need to hear things stated explicitly. When appropriate, we should find a way to calmly but firmly say, “What that person did was wrong,” or, “Yes, there are people who believe that, but it isn’t true, and here’s why,” or, “When that kind of thing happens, this is how the Torah teaches us to handle it.” Our aim is not to badmouth another person or launch into a lecture, but to gently mold and shape our children’s thinking so that it gradually comes into consonance with what is true and good. That way, when they look out at the world, they’ll do so with a sound, thoughtful, coherent, value-driven perspective.

Celebrating Shavuot

I’m unaware of optometry being a uniquely Jewish profession, but it seems like fitting ourselves for glasses is part of our tradition. As Moshe recalls the events of Har Sinai, he refers to it as the day when Hashem gave us “eyes to see” (Devarim 29:3). Because having eyes does not yet mean knowing how to use them. Learning to see clearly comes from inculcating G-d’s gift of the Torah into our way of life – one that we celebrate this coming week.

It’s never been more critical – and more challenging – to maintain moral lucidity. As the relentless assault on truth continues from all directions, let’s rejoice in the fact that we have a lens – the Torah – to help us see things for what they are. Let’s also give our kids the security and clarity that can only come from clinging to a standard outside ourselves, a source about which we say in our Thirteen Principles of Faith, “I believe with perfect faith that this Torah will not be exchanged and that there will not be another Torah from the Creator, Blessed by He.“