Thursday, February 27, 2014


Rabbi Doniel Staum, LMSW
Rabbi, Kehillat New Hempstead
Social Worker, Yeshiva Bais Hachinuch/ASHAR


The American investment banker was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellow fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them. The fisherman replied that it had only taken him a little while.
The American asked why he didn’t stay out longer to catch more fish. The Mexican answered that he had enough to support his family's immediate needs.
The American then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?" The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, and stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life."
The American scoffed, "I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats, and with time you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise."
The Mexican fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?" The American replied, "15-20 years." "But what then?"
The American laughed, “That's the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich; you would make millions."
"Millions?! Then what?"
The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, and stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."

            The labor involved in the construction of the Mishkan was arduous, but finally it stood complete. “Moshe saw the entire work; and behold! – they had done it as G-d had commanded, so they had done! And Moshe blessed them.”[1] Rashi, citing the Medrash, quotes the blessing that Moshe gave them, “יהי רצון שתשרה שכינה במעשה ידיכם – May it be the will that the Divine Presence rest upon your handiwork.” Moshe concluded his blessing by stating the verse “May the pleasantness of my Lord, our G-d, be upon us – our handiwork may He establish for us; our handiwork may He establish.”[2]
          Kesav Sofer questions the diction of the blessing. When G-d began teaching Moshe about the construction of the Mishkan, He explained the purpose, “They shall make a Sanctuary for Me – so that I may dwell among them.”[3] If the purpose of the Mishkan was so that the Divine Presence could rest there, what was Moshe’s added blessing? If the Divine Presence did not rest there the whole effort would have been a futile endeavor! Was Moshe’s blessing no more than a message of hope that everything work out as planned?
          Furthermore, when one begins a blessing with the words, “יהי רצון - May it be the will” the next words invariably are, “Hashem, our G-d”, thus reading, “May it be the Will of Hashem, our G-d…” What did Moshe mean “May it be the will”? Whose will was he referring to?
          The verse in Divrei Hayamim[4] quotes the words of Dovid Hamelech’s instruction to his son and successor, Shlomo, about the materials he prepared for the construction of the Bais Hamikdash. “With all of my strength I have prepared for the House of my G-d, the gold for [things to be made] of gold, and the silver for silver, and the copper for copper….” The wording seems superfluous. Why does Dovid say that he prepared “gold for gold, silver for silver, and copper for copper”, and not merely that he prepared gold, silver, and copper?
          When G-d originally instructed Moshe to solicit contributions for the Mishkan from the nation, He stated, “Let them take for Me a portion.” Rashi explains that the term “for Me” indicates that the contributions should be purely for the sake of G-d’s Name.
          Kesav Sofer notes that when one donates money or resources he may be doing so to increase his prestige and honor. He may be motivated by the knowledge that he will be lauded and praised for his magnanimity.
One who contributes with such underhanded motivation essentially does not give “gold for gold”. Rather, he gives gold for the sake of honor and to see his name on plaques. For this reason, even one who loves money and wealth may be able to donate great amounts of money to charity. In his mind it is an investment. Some people buy goods and merchandise, while he buys glory and a prestigious reputation.
For the construction of the Mishkan, G-d demanded donations that were offered for no ulterior motive other than for the sake of glorifying His Name. Those who donated gold to the Mishkan had to do so solely for the construction of the golden vessels. Giving to the Mishkan required inner strength to overcome one’s natural selfish love of money and material possessions. There was no personal glory to be gained from the donation, only the benefit of knowing that one had a share in the construction of the House of G-d.
When Moshe blessed the Mishkan by stating that G-d should rest His Divine Presence there, he was not invoking “the Will of G-d.” Rather, he was referring to the “will of the people”. Moshe was conveying to them that the sanctity and merit of the Mishkan was dependent on their desire and will to sanctify the Name of G-d and to perform His Service altruistically. Moshe was saying to the people, “May it be your will that the Divine Presence rest upon your handiwork.” “It is essentially in your hands. If you desire it and strive for it then G-d will surely fulfill His Word that, “They shall make a Sanctuary for Me – so that I may dwell among them”.”

The first of the four special Torah portions read during the weeks prior to Pesach is Parshas Shekalim. The portion discusses the mandatory contribution of a half-shekel to the Temple treasury by every male over the age of twenty.
The first collection of the half-shekel was done in the desert. There is a prohibition to count Jews directly. In order to reach a consensus the nation was called upon to each contribute a half-shekel. The half-shekels represented the population of the nation. The shekalim were then used for the construction and upkeep of the Mishkan.
“…This shall they give – everyone who passes through the consensus – a half shekel of the sacred shekel…The wealthy shall not increase and the destitute shall not decrease from half a shekel – to give the portion of Hashem, to atone for your souls.”[5]
The equal contribution of the nation symbolized the necessity for unity and harmony in their pursuit of national goals. “Passing through the consensus” in the same manner, i.e. contributing the same amount, represented the need for every individual to give up his selfish personal interests for the sake of enhancing national welfare.
The unity also accorded the nation atonement and forgiveness. When the masses join together, the unification alone is an incredible merit for the entire nation.
While the Bais Hamikdash stood, each year the entire nation was required to donate a half-shekel to cover the cost of the daily public offerings. The law demands that all sacrifices be purchased from money collected for that year. The fiscal year for public offerings began and concluded in the month of Nissan. Therefore, the Rabbi's ordained that the portion of the Torah describing the first giving of the half-Shekel be read on the Shabbos of or before Rosh Chodesh Adar, one month before the half-shekel was due this served as a reminder that the due date for the obligatory donation of a half-shekel was imminent. In exile, we read the Torah portion as a reminder of the events that transpired at the juncture of the year when the Bais Hamikdash was standing.
The half-shekel served as a reminder that ultimately we are a people with a collective responsibility to utilize all of our assets and resources for the Service of G-d, which includes caring for all His elite Children. 

Our Sages relate that the merit which enabled us to triumph over Haman and his nefarious plot was unity. Queen Esther demanded of Mordechai, “Go, assemble all the Jews to be found in Shushan, and fast for me… Then I will go into the king though it’s unlawful; and if I perish, I perish.”[6] It was not only with the merit of penitence, fasting, and prayer with which Esther sanguinely enter into the chambers of Achashveirosh. It was also with the merit of the assembly of all the Jews together!
Unity is not limited to feelings and lofty thoughts. It also includes resources and physical abilities. This is part of the reason why giving gifts to the poor is one of the mitzvos of Purim[7]. On Purim – when we were saved because of our selfless unity - we must demonstrate that our money is not merely for retirement funds, luxurious vacations, and self-pampering. “Go, assemble all the Jews” includes being cognizant of the plight of our brethren and seeking to assist them in whatever manner we are able.
Every human being has desires and things that he wants. “Where there’s a will there’s a way”. The question is what the “way” we are seeking is and does that way include the needs of others?

“May it be the will”
“Gold for gold and silver for silver”

[1] 39:43
[2] Tehillim 90:17
[3] 25:8
[4] I, 29:2
[5] Shemos 30:12-16
[6] Esther 4:16
[7] Matanos Laevyonim

Thursday, February 20, 2014


Rabbi Doniel Staum, LMSW
Rabbi, Kehillat New Hempstead
Social Worker, Yeshiva Bais Hachinuch/ASHAR


          Shortly before our wedding in February 2002 (Adar 5762), I was speaking with Rabbi Dovid Katzenstein shlita, the (then) Menahel (Dean) of my yeshiva, Yeshiva Shaarei Torah in Monsey, at his home. We were discussing different aspects of marriage and he was offering some valuable advice. The last idea that he mentioned was perhaps the most important advice about marriage that I have ever heard.
          He related that several years earlier he was involved with a couple who were having some serious familial issues. The situation was deteriorating rapidly and they were in desperate need of guidance. They were hoping Rabbi Katzenstein could help them salvage their marriage.
          Rabbi Katzenstein met with each spouse individually to ensure that they would be able to express their feelings uninhibitedly. One of the points the wife raised was that she was very hurt that her husband never bought her any presents. When Rabbi Katzenstein recounted her complaint to the husband, he was quick to deny the allegation. “How can she say I never buy her anything? I always buy her a birthday present, a Chanukah present, and an anniversary present!?” 
          Rabbi Katzenstein explained that he was missing the point. “Of course it is nice (and necessary) to buy a gift for your wife on all of those occasions. However, those are not the gifts she is referring to. She is complaining about the lack of spontaneity; gifts out of the clear blue. If your wife likes red jelly beans, then on a Tuesday afternoon in November bring home a bag of red jelly beans for her. If she likes vanilla milkshakes, surprise her with a milkshake on a hot afternoon in July.
“It’s not the present that really counts. It’s the message that it sends; ‘I was thinking about you today.’ Your wife wants to know that you think about her even when she’s not with you. You have to go the extra mile to demonstrate your desire to invest in the marriage in order to show her that she is paramount in your mind.”

          When Moshe addressed Klal Yisroel to relate G-d’s precise instructions about the construct of the Mishkan (Tabernacle), and to appeal from them all of the necessary materials for the construction, they were unexpectedly forthcoming. The materials were quickly donated with great exuberance and philanthropy. “Every man whose heart inspired him came; and everyone whose spirit motivated him brought the portion of G-d for the work of the tent of Meeting, for all its labor and for the sacred vestments.”[1]
The response was so positive that Moshe was compelled to stop the campaign. “Moshe commanded that they proclaim throughout the camp, saying, “Man and woman shall not do more work toward the gift of the sanctuary!” …the work had been enough… and there was extra.”[2]
          Their remarkable response demonstrated a genuine desire to rectify the spiritual damage they had wrought in committing the egregious sin of the golden calf. However, there was one elite group who did not respond with the alacrity and zeal of the rest of the nation. The verse notes that, “The leaders (נשאם) brought the Shoham stones and the stones for the setting for the Ephod and the Breastplate.”[3]
          Rashi cites R’ Nassan[4] who notes the word “נשאם - nesi’im – leaders”, is spelled without the two letter yuds that it normally has. The deficiency in the spelling of their title alludes to the deficiency in their donations to the Mishkan campaign. They assumed that the general contributions would be insufficient for the construction. Therefore, they magnanimously offered to shoulder the burden of providing everything that would not be donated by the masses. However, when the campaign was over there was virtually nothing left for the leaders to donate, except for the stones for the Ephod and Breastplate.
Although the intent of the leaders was noble, their initial passiveness was viewed as an inappropriate display of languidness.
          The commentators question the Torah’s criticalness of the leader’s response. In a sense, it seems like the end vilifies the means. Had the people indeed been indolent in their response as was expected and the leaders would have donated everything that was still needed, one would imagine that the leaders would have been lauded for their generosity. Should they then be criticized because they did not fathom the nation’s eager response and therefore had almost nothing left to give?
The situation seems analogous to a wealthy close friend who promises a newly married couple that - as a wedding gift - he would give them everything they didn’t receive from anyone else. Thus, instead of receiving another mixer, set of salad bowls, or a silver mezuzah case, the couple knows that they can count on that friend to get all the things they really want. Although that gift may lack surprise and novelty, it will surely be welcomed by the young couple.
Why then was the offer of the leaders viewed with such contempt?

The truth is that in order to understand the Torah’s criticalness toward their donation we must reexamine the analogy. What if it wasn’t a friend who was making this offer to a young couple but it was a groom making such an offer to his new bride? Just prior to the wedding he explains to her that he did not buy her a new piece of jewelry to give her on their wedding day because he knows that she will be receiving a great deal of jewelry as presents. However, he assures her that after all the wedding gifts have been opened, he would buy her whatever jewelry she wanted.[5]
One can imagine the contemptuous disdain that the bride would feel toward her groom. Although the groom may have meant well, he fails to realize that it’s not merely the beauty or value of the gift that matters. There is incredible sentimental value that a gift given on one’s wedding day possesses. The gift forever symbolizes the joy and love they feel for each other on that day and, therefore, the loss of such a gift is simply irreplaceable.
On their lofty spiritual level, the Princes were remiss in this regard. Had they felt the proper level of devotion and excitement to construct the House of G-d, they would have jumped to contribute without reserve. The “House of G-d” does not require physical material as much as it requires passion and the desire to be close to G-d and to perform His Service. The emotional excitement (or lack thereof) was more important than the amount of materials contributed.

Rabbi Paysach Krohn, noted lecturer and author, relates a personal story which taught him an important lesson: In the shul where he davens (prays) there was an older unmarried fellow with whom he maintained a convivial relationship. In fact, each Friday Night when they would meet in shul Rabbi Krohn would invite the man to join his family for the Shabbos seudah (meal).But each week the man politely declined.
One Friday night Rabbi Krohn decided to be insistent. In a jocular manner he told the man that he simply had to come. “I know that each week you have a reason why you can’t come, but this week we are not accepting any more excuses!”
The man asked Rabbi Krohn if he wanted to hear his real response. Realizing that he was about to be rebuked, Rabbi Krohn replied that he was prepared to hear what the man had to say. The man looked up and continued, “What nerve do you have to invite me to your home on Friday night? Don’t you think I make plans for Shabbos? Throughout the lonely week I try to figure out where I can squeeze myself in for a meal in the most unobtrusive manner. Then I come to shul and, after davening, as everyone is going home to eat their meals you invite me. Why don’t you think about me in the middle of the week? If you called me up on Wednesday night I would gladly oblige. But being invited just prior to the meal sends a message that you think I am an unfortunate soul with nowhere to go!”
Although he was the subject of the rebuke, Rabbi Krohn relates this story so that others can learn from his mistake. In fact, after hearing the story, I realized that the message of the story was personally applicable. Each week shortly before Shabbos my wife and I make it a point to call our parents and my Bubby in order to wish them a good Shabbos. The truth is that we are in contact with our parents throughout the week. Therefore, the ‘Erev Shabbos phone call’ is generally terse. We only call to wish them ‘a good Shabbos’.
When my Bubby was still living alone in her Manhattan apartment throughout the week, we would often only see her or speak to her on weekends. I realized that the brief two minute phone call Erev Shabbos was insufficient. At that time, many of my Bubby’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren would also call her to wish her a Good Shabbos. It was also a hectic time when she was making her final preparations for Shabbos. Although she undoubtedly valued our phone calls, that was not the time when she could use it most.
I realized that a phone call in the middle of the week would mean so much more to her. I tried to make it a point to call her once a week during a mid-week morning or evening. If one of my children was in the vicinity and I gave them the phone to say a quick hello to “Bubby Kohn” it is that much more meaningful. Although our conversations were usually quick, (we may discuss the weather, what new milestones my children have reached, and how she was feeling) I knew that the message the phone call sent her was far more valuable. It conveyed to her that we were thinking about her. As she sat alone in her apartment with the news blaring in the background as her only company, she was reminded that she has children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren who were thinking about her.[6]

          I once heard the following classic thought: “Men think women love flowers even though they die. The truth is that women love flowers because they die!”
Building and fostering relationships is an ongoing process that requires long-term repeated investment.
“The leaders brought the Shoham stones”
“Every man whose heart inspired him came”

[1] 35:21
[2] 36:6-7
[3] 35:27
[4] Bamidbar Rabbah 12:16
[5] [Note: It is NOT advisable to try this at home!]
[6] Currently, my Bubby lives at Fountainview Assisted Living in Monsey. Now that she is local, I try to visit her each week. May Hashem grant her many more healthy years.  

Friday, February 14, 2014


Rabbi Doniel Staum, LMSW
Rabbi, Kehillat New Hempstead
Social Worker, Yeshiva Bais Hachinuch/ASHAR


          Rabbi Yaakov Yosef Herman zt’l was a person of incredible faith, and legendary adherence to Torah. For many years Rabbi Herman lived on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. This was during the early 1900s when keeping Torah and mitzvos was not in vogue in America. Still, his commitment to Torah was staunch and unyielding.
          In her beautiful book, “All for the Boss”, Rebbitzin Ruchama Shain a’h, the daughter of Rabbi Herman, documented and captured the greatness of her father’s life and the challenges he faced and overcame.
          She relates that one Friday evening, a policeman knocked on the door of their apartment with an urgent message for her father. “Mr. Herman, there is a fire raging in your fur store! The fire department is doing its best to douse the flames, but I would advise you to get there as soon as possible.” Rabbi Herman thanked the officer but replied that it was his Sabbath and he would not be able to come down to the store until the following evening.
The policeman was incredulous, “Won’t you at least come down to survey the damage?” Rabbi Herman politely shook his head and thanked the officer again.
The rest of Shabbos passed like any other. Rabbi Herman showed absolutely no sign of anxiety or concern. He sang Shabbos zemiros, repeated Torah thoughts, and did not even hurry to recite havdalah after Shabbos was over.
After Shabbos, Rabbi Herman traveled down to Seventh Avenue where his fur store was located, expecting to see it gutted. To his amazement, his store had been untouched. It was the adjoining fur store that had gone up in flames and reduced to rubble.

“And you (Moshe) speak to the Children of Israel saying, ‘But my Shabbos you are to observe; for it is a sign between Me and you for your generations, to know that I am Hashem Who sanctifies you.”[1]
The Torah makes it clear that Shabbos is not only about acting in certain ways and refraining from certain activities, but it must also be a cognitive experience. Through Shabbos observance a Jew should come to realize and understand that G-d is the source of all holiness and sanctity.
This idea is especially apparent from the laws governing the many prohibitions of Shabbos. Although there are specific labors that are forbidden on Shabbos, performing any of the forbidden labors does not automatically render one liable for desecrating Shabbos. The doer’s personal objective must be taken into account. The rule is, “מלאכת מחשבת אסרה תורה – calculated (i.e. planned) labor is forbidden by the Torah.”
In other words, whether a specific labor is forbidden or not is partially contingent on the motive of the doer. Thus two people may perform the same action, yet one will be liable for desecrating Shabbos, while his counterpart will be exempt. It all depends on what their intent was when they performed the action.[2]
Rabbi Yitzchok Hutner zt’l explains this concept in his characteristically profound and poignant manner[3]:
The status of a vessel or a tool is dependent on its purpose. A small leather pouch may be used for money or to store marbles. If it is used to store money it becomes a wallet; if it is used for marbles it is a toy.
There is a prohibition on Shabbos of “hotza’ah” - to transport objects from domain to domain. However, one only transgresses this prohibition if one transports an object of value. If the transported item does not possess any value, carrying it does not violate a Biblical prohibition. Therefore, transporting a vessel may not be forbidden in and of itself. It will depend on the motive of the carrier and whether there is anything in the vessel.
For example, if one transports an empty silver goblet, he has transgressed the violation of carrying because the goblet is his object of interest, and therefore is valuable to him. However, if the goblet is filled with wine then he is not (Biblically) liable for transporting the goblet since his primary intent was to transport the wine[4]. This is true even if the goblet is more valuable than the wine. Halacha is concerned with the value of an object in regard to the specific act being performed. In regard to this specific act, the doer was not really interested in the goblet. He was only using it to facilitate the transportation of the wine which he wanted to drink along the way. Therefore, he is not liable for carrying the goblet.
This example demonstrates the concept of “מלאכת מחשבת” in regard to the prohibitions of Shabbos. It is not merely the act that matters, but also the motive and intent of the doer.
Rabbi Hutner continues that the concept of determining what is the “ikkar- priority” and what is the “tafel- accessory” is not merely one of the myriad laws regarding the prohibitions of Shabbos. Rather this concept is fundamental in regards to understanding the essence of Shabbos, and the role it plays in the life of a Jew. 
The Mishna[5] states that G-d created the physical world with “ten utterances”. Throughout the initial week of creation, utilizing those utterances G-d created, fashioned, and formed the entire natural world and everything therein. However, when the world stood complete at the conclusion of the six days, it lacked purpose and direction. It was essentially, a creation without meaning. With the onset of Shabbos, G-d invested into the world a new concept, i.e. holiness! At that point, it immediately became apparent that creating holiness was the purpose of creation. Holiness was preeminent; the rest of creation was an accessory. It suddenly became clear that the world - which until now seemed like an end unto itself - was merely a “vessel”, a conduit for holiness, and a means to reach a higher goal and purpose.
There is only one being created that could appreciate and grasp this concept, man. Every other being, survives based on instinct and nature, and therefore cannot realize the transiency of the temporal world around them. Only man, endowed with cognition, can appreciate the significance of Shabbos and the message it espouses. One who has the ability to ponder and comprehend the significance and purpose of life can understand that this whole world is merely a vessel, and a means to a greater existence.
The ability to appreciate the message and significance of Shabbos was essentially created on the sixth day when G-d created man with intellect and the ability to think. Without the creation of man, the message of Shabbos could not have been understood. Shabbos essentially caused there to be a drastic shift in the purpose of creation and that change was only appreciated in the mind of man.

The verse in Parshas Vayakhel states “You shall not ignite a fire in any of your surroundings on the day of Shabbos.[6]” Zohar notes that this prohibition is not merely a warning against igniting physical fires, but also for igniting ‘emotional fires’. On Shabbos one is obligated reach such a state of contentment that he cannot be moved to anger.
On the words of the verse, “For six days work shall be done and the seventh day is a day of complete rest, it is sacred to Hashem[7],” Rashi comments that complete rest implies, “מנוחת מרגוע ולא מנוחת עראי - A permanent resting; not a temporary resting“.
Rabbi Chaim Shmulevitz zt’l[8] explains that a “temporary resting” refers to one who is not permanently altered by the Shabbos experience. Although he observes Shabbos, and perhaps even sanctifies Shabbos, it does not have a lasting effect on him, but fades away with the puff of the extinguished havdalah candle. A ‘permanent resting’ refers to one who achieves a complete transformation. The Shabbos experience has such a profound affect upon him that he emerges from Shabbos a more elevated person than he was when it began. He becomes invigorated and revitalized with a newfound ability to confront the challenges of the week with faith, tranquility, and serenity.
How do such transformations occur? It begins in one’s mind, when one has his priorities straight. Throughout the week one often feels that the labors he engages in are an end unto themselves. He becomes tense with pressures of deadlines, angry because of missed opportunities and failed endeavors, and anxious with the uncertainties of tomorrow. But then Shabbos begins! The sun sets on Friday afternoon and the world is enveloped with holiness and sanctity. Suddenly, one is reminded that all of his weekly activities are secondary. He remembers that this world is merely a receptacle, a medium through which one can achieve holiness and ulterior purpose.
That realization which begins in the recesses of one’s mind eventually manifests itself in one’s conduct and how he lives his life. It begins with an understanding of what is the vessel and what it the content.
As the sun sets on Friday and darkness descends on the world, suddenly, there is light!

“My Shabbos …to know that I am Hashem Who sanctifies you.”
“A permanent resting; not a temporary resting”

[1] Shemos 31:13
[2] One whose intent was to accomplish something forbidden on Shabbos, he will be liable for desecrating Shabbos. But if his intent was to do something permitted on Shabbos, but in doing so he unwittingly transgressed a law, he will be exempt.
[3] Pachad Yitzchok, Shabbos, mama’ar 1:4-5
[4] he is only liable for carrying the wine
[5] Avos 5:1
[6] Shemos 35:3
[7] Shemos 31:15
[8] Sichos Mussar 5731, mama’ar 12

Thursday, February 6, 2014


Rabbi Doniel Staum, LMSW
Rabbi, Kehillat New Hempstead
Social Worker, Yeshiva Bais Hachinuch/ASHAR


Suppose, for example, that I am highly over-reactive to my children. Suppose that whenever they begin to do something that I feel is inappropriate, I sense an immediate tensing in the pit of my stomach. I feel defensive walls going up, I prepare for battle. My focus is not on the long-term growth and understanding but on the short-term behavior. I’m trying to win the battle, not the war.
“I pull out my ammunition- my superior size, my position of authority – and I yell or intimidate or I threaten or punish. And I win. I stand there, victorious, in the middle of the debris of a shattered relationship while my children are outwardly submissive and inwardly rebellious, suppressing feelings that will come out later in uglier ways.”[1]  

“You shall command the B’nei Yisroel that they shall take for you pure, pressed olives for illumination, to cause the candle to go up constantly.”[2] Rashi[3] explains that the verse utilizes an unusual expression – to cause the candle to ‘go up constantly’ – to demonstrate that the kohain had to use quality wicks and oils that would ensure that the flame would ascend on its own.[4]
Me’or V’shemesh notes that this mitzvah is symbolic of a parent/rebbe’s obligation to educate their children in the ways of Torah and mitzvos. Their goal is to sufficiently inspire, and cause the flame within the soul of their students and children to ascend on its own, so that they will not require any exterior or added motivation.
The Chofetz Chaim would dolefully note that there are some fathers who limit themselves to teaching their children a little chumash, and some other basic Torah knowledge. They then invest the bulk of their energy teaching their children other matters. When asked about their children’s ultimate connection with Torah and Judiasm, they reply that their children were raised in good Jewish homes with good Torah values, so they have little fear that their children will develop into anything but good Torah Jews.
However, this is a tragic mistake. Both a fire and a pot of boiling water heated atop a fire are scorching hot and can burn someone. The difference is that no matter where the fire is transferred to it will retain its heat. The boiling pot however, only remains boiling so long as it is atop the fire. Once it is removed from the fire it immediately begins to cool.
In addition, one can continue lighting other fires from a fire, and it will not diminish the strength of the original fire. The pot however, no matter how hot it is, if the water inside the pot is poured into another vessel, it will cool significantly, and if poured into a third vessel it will cool even more.
The same holds true in regards to the education of one’s children. The Torah is analogous to fire[5], a fire which penetrates the hearts of those who study it. If one achieves some mastery in Torah through great effort and study, the fire of Torah begins to burn within him. That fire has the power, not only to warm him spiritually, but it can also light up the hearts of others, including his own children and grandchildren.
But if one doesn’t invest much effort in teaching his children Torah, reasoning that his children will appreciate Torah and its values through osmosis of his home and community, that is like a pot heated by an external flame. The pot can indeed become boiling hot, but that heat is external and will only last as long as it is in close proximity to the fire.
A child raised in a Torah environment, albeit without much exposure to Torah study and understanding, is not so secure. He is in great danger of forfeiting all he has gained when he will be tempted and challenged by the aesthetic and sometimes spiritually sinister luring of the society surrounding.  
To prevent that danger, concludes the Chofetz Chaim, a parent must ensure that he has given his child the ability for their internal flame to ascend on its own, not merely to be heated with external heat.

Rav Samson Rafael Hirsch similarly explains that the job of a Torah teacher is to ultimately make himself superfluous. His ultimate goal is that his student will reach such love and achievement in Torah that he will feel connected to it even without the direct involvement of his teachers.
  In regards to education, the verse from Mishlei[6] is often quoted: “Chanoch linar al pi darko – educate a child according to his way”. But the latter half of the verse is often forgotten: “gam ki yazkin lo yasur mimenu – even when he becomes old he will not deviate from it.”
Shlomo Hamalech is noting that chinuch is not just about compliance, but about instilling values into our children’s souls, so that it becomes part of them for life.
It is all too easy for a parent/teacher to become caught up in the heat of the moment, and to focus on the short-term issue, and lose sight of the long-term education that needs to occur. In fact, parents need to constantly take stock of each of their children’s growth, and contemplate whether they - as parents – are doing enough to build and foster the innate uniqueness of their child.
Parenting is never easy, and very often it’s downright overwhelming. But we must maintain the hopes and dreams we originally had for our children when we began as parents – to build the next generation of Klal Yisroel. The only way to do that is by constantly ensuring that the fires within each child are ascending on their own. 

“To cause the candle to go up constantly”
“Even when he becomes old he will not deviate from it.”

[1] Stephen Covey “The 7 habits of highly effective people” (p.105)
[2] Shemos 27:20
[3] Quoting Gemara Shabbos 21a
[4] If inferior wicks and oils were used the flame would not catch without tilting and other adjustments.
[5] “Behold my words are like fire” (Yirmiyah 23:29; see also Berachos 22a)
[6] 22:6