RABBI YAAKOV ASHER SINCLAIR (Ohr.edu)
“I have sojourned with Lavan.” (32:5)
Life can be divided into two distinct phases: input and output. In one’s childhood, our brains are largely set to “record”, and we record by imitation. A child learns to speak by imitating his mother. A boy starts to learn by imitating his teacher. Part of raising a child is to encourage positive role-modeling and minimize contact with negative stereotypes.
In this week’s Torah portion, Yaakov sends a message to Esav that he “sojourned with Lavan.” The numerical equivalent of garti, “sojourned,” is 613. Yaakov was hinting to his brother Esav that Lavan’s negative influence had not rubbed off on him, that he still kept the 613 mitzvot.
A similar example is when Yaakov prays to Hashem (28:21) to return him in peace to his father’s house without Lavan’s negative influence. Even though already 75 years old, Yaakov was still concerned that the natural instinct to imitate might lead him astray.
This also explains the Torah’s praise of Rivka. Despite being surrounded from the cradle by evil people, she was able to sense that they were unsuitable role models, and she did not learn from them. Only an inherent holiness could have protected her.
The second phase starts when a child reaches maturity.
At this point, imitation should give way to our motivation. It is not enough for us to do things because “that’s the way we always did it at home.” Lessons learned through imitation must be re-learned and made our own. If not, we will never grow to be truly independent thinkers and doers. Not only that, but our own ability to be role models for our own children and students will be severely limited.
A quarter of an hour a week may be sufficient, but it has to be quality time. If one’s spouse or child were to comes and ask for advice, we would make sure to close the door, take the phone off the hook and give them our undivided attention. Should we not give ourselves the same attention?
In a world where the next unwanted distraction is just around the corner, it takes a little effort to create the silence of solitude that is the key to maturity.