Community Torah Corner - May 23, 2025

Rabbi Danny Nevins
Head of School 
Graduation D'var Torah
There is an unusual teaching in the Talmud, Tractate Yoma 78b, in which the sage Abaye quotes his mother’s Aramaic aphorisms: 
 
Abaye teaches, this is what my mother taught:
How do you raise a child? First you bathe them in warm water, and anoint them with oil.
דְּאָמַר אַבָּיֵי, אֲמַרָה לִי אֵם: רְבִיתֵיהּ דְּיָנוֹקָא — מַיָּא חַמִּימֵי וּמִשְׁחָא. 
When they have grown a bit, you feed them eggs with dairy.
גְּדַל פּוּרְתָּא — בֵּיעֲתָא בְּכוּתָּחָא. 
When the children grow yet larger, give them pottery to smash….
גְּדַל פּוּרְתָּא — תַּבּוֹרֵי מָאנֵי. כִּי הָא דְּרַבָּה זָבֵין לְהוּ מָאנֵי גְּזִיזֵי דְּפַחְרָא לִבְנֵיהּ, וּמְתַבְּרִי לְהוּ.
 
We all understand the first two things said by Abaye’s mother about bathing babies and feeding them soft foods. But why did she insist that children be given pottery to smash? Is breaking things part of growing up?
 
Well, if you have ever cared for a toddler, you know that they do like to make a mess. Rashi says that smashing things can satisfy their desire. It’s a harmless outlet for their aggression. Who knew? Parenting advice from the Talmud.
 
Perhaps there’s an additional reason why Abaye’s mother encouraged him and other children to break pottery. When children learn about the brokenness of things while still safely at home, they are better equipped to confront a world that is profoundly broken. If so, then part of education is about confronting that which is broken and flawed, and learning how to build meaning even when circumstances are so far from ideal.
 
It’s not only the exterior world that can be broken. We know that life can sometimes leave people broken-hearted from loss and disappointment. Psalm 34 acknowledges this fact, and claims that God is closest to people in such times: The Lord is close to the broken hearted and rescues those with downcast spirits; קָרוֹב ה' לְנִשְׁבְּרֵי לֵב וְאֶת דַּכְּאֵי רוּחַ יוֹשִׁיעַ: 
 
Psalm 147 calls God the healer of broken hearts, הָרֹפֵא, לִשְׁבוּרֵי לֵב. What a beautiful description for God. Many people, including Israeli captives who have been released, testify to the role their faith played in building their resilience, in sustaining their hope.
 
But what can a person do to heal their broken heart? Allow me to share a teaching on this by Maimonides. In preparation for Shavuot, I have been studying his essay known as the Eight Chapters, or Shmoneh Perakim, an introduction to Pirkei Avot. In Chapter 5 Rambam says the following:
 
פירוש המשנה לרמב"ם מסכת אבות - שמונה פרקים פרק ה
אם התעוררה עליו מרה שחורה, יסירה בשמיעת שירים ומיני נגינות, ובטיול בגנות ובבניינים נאים, ובישיבה עם צורות נאות, וכיוצא בזה ממה שירחיב הנפש, ויסיר דאגת המרה השחורה ממנה. 
If a person experiences a dark, bitter emotion, they should treat it by listening to songs and music, by wandering in gardens, by exploring beautiful buildings, and by contemplating art. Such things will expand their soul, and their bitter dark worries will pass from them. 
 
Now, this is not modern psychological advice, and no one today would say that taking a walk in the park or listening to some music would suffice to treat a major depression. But there is something to be said for experiences that expand one’s consciousness as a strategy for helping through challenging times. Note the examples given by Rambam–they include both nature and culture, movement and contemplation, and their purpose is to push back at weighty concerns that can narrow one’s world, until a larger reality can draw us back.

In other words, a sense of wonder at the marvels of the world can strengthen you and give you a purpose when things get hard. I believe that a varied education such as what you have received at GOA is really a toolbox for flourishing in the future, no matter what life throws at you. It’s hard to predict which lesson you learned here will turn out to be a key that opens the door and allows you to move מצרה לרווחה, from confinement to expansive freedom.
 
Perhaps the greatest story of the Torah is the Exodus from Egypt, יציאת מצרים, and as many of you know, the word for Egypt, mitzrayim, means a narrow place. The exodus can be read, and has been read by many cultures, as an allegory for expansion from confinement of any kind, whether physical, psychological, political or spiritual. 
 
As you prepare to walk across the stage as graduates, to start your individual journeys of higher education, I encourage you to cultivate your curiosity, to expand your knowledge, to explore new forms of culture, and to cherish the marvels of this world. To be sure, there is much brokenness, within and without, and none of us is free to ignore such challenges. But, equipped with a GOA education, with a sense of purpose, with friendships and with support, you already have everything you need to build back this broken world. I am grateful for our time together, and I can’t wait to see what you accomplish in the years to come. Blessings to each of you, to your families and friends. 
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