When a child leaves the path of Torah, parents find themselves fighting not only for his soul, but also for the peace of the home • The great pain was overcome, Sometimes, Couples of polar opposites: one entrenches himself in anger and a cold, religious gaze, and the other sinks into a sea of compassion and tears. • How do we prevent the crisis from tearing us apart and why is the marital bond the only lighthouse that will light the way back home? • Rabbi Ami Baram on preserving the strategic asset in the campaign
The day it is discovered that the child has abandoned the path is a day of deep personal devastation. Often we witness a rift between the parents.
For example, the grieving father may cling to the moral law completely; he seeks to see his son as a "disobedient and mischievous son" and cut off all contact with him. While the mother, on the other hand, is completely shocked by this thought. The home, which until yesterday was run in harmony of Torah and kindness, suddenly becomes a scene of conflict in which the parents speak completely foreign languages, with an abyss of misunderstanding, frustration, and sorrow between them.
This clinical phenomenon is known as systemic role polarization, which is intensified in extreme situations. When the family ship is hit by a huge wave of backlash, each parent instinctively clings to a different lifeline. One will try to control the intense pain through rigidity, anger, and erecting high walls of pure "view" to protect what exists. The other parent, on the other hand, will resort to absolute containment, prolonged crying, and a deep desire to protect the injured child at all costs.
This complex dynamic creates a destructive vicious circle: as one hardens his position to maintain boundaries, the other softens it.
Imagine a small rowboat caught in a storm at sea, with each rower pulling in the opposite direction in a desperate attempt to save the ship. The result is not a safe advance to a safe shore, but a dangerous spiral around the same axis, threatening to sink them all together in the depths. In such a situation, the couple begins to see each other as a real threat to the integrity of the remaining family.
The father sees the mother's softness as a dangerous psychological weakness that encourages the son's transgression and abandonment. In contrast, the mother perceives the father's harshness as cruelty and alienation that finally destroys the soul of the lost child.
To stop the dangerous spiral, it is necessary to understand a fundamental and important principle: both of you are right, and both of you are acting out of immense love and abysmal anxiety for the child. The father's halakhic view does not stem from heartlessness, but from a deep existential fear for the fate of his beloved son's soul. The mother's tears are also not evidence of weakness, but a pure expression of a deep-rooted and strong maternal bond that is never ready to let go. Once parents manage to look beyond the walls of anger and pain, and see the shared concern pulsing in both of their hearts, each in their own style, they can actually lay down their weapons and return to being partners in the journey.
Dear parents! Your marital alliance is now a critical strategic asset in the battle, and not just a privilege for a time of need. A child who strays from the path of God, even if he outwardly displays confidence and composure, experiences an existential upheaval and a painful disconnection from the sources of his life. If he looks back and sees that the earthquake he created also completely destroyed his parents' relationship, his hidden sense of guilt will deepen the alienation to tragic proportions.
The child desperately needs to know that the home he left behind is still standing, strong and surviving. Your shared, stable home is a vital psychological anchor for him, even as he now wanders far away.
Don't let the burning pain separate you at this difficult time. Communicate your grief openly, embrace your natural differences in coping styles, and show compassion for each other every day. When you regroup and find a shared, mutually agreed-upon middle ground, you can create a safe haven of unconditional love together.
Keep the door of the house and the door of the heart wide open to the wandering child. When he decides one day to return from the storm, he must know with absolute certainty that he always has somewhere to return: to a bright, strong, and loving home, where father and mother await him together in long and constant anticipation for his return home with joy and great love.
• Rabbi Ami Baram, founder and CEO of the association 'Connection - Believers in Together'"
