A couple with their son, Danny, arrive at the principal’s office. The principal greets them and informs them that he can no longer remain silent about Danny’s behavior, which he describes as wild:
“He throws markers at students, throws markers at teachers, throws markers at friends. We try to control him, but it’s not working. He is like Mowgli, the jungle boy.”
The parents explain to the principal that they are trying to educate their son, but unfortunately, their efforts are not bearing fruit.
“I will have to punish him severely,” says the principal. “What I propose is something a bit different, but we have nothing to lose.”
“We are willing to try anything!” declares the mother.
“Excellent. So we have scheduled for tomorrow at four, stoning.”
“Excuse me? You want to stone my Danny?” the mother bursts out. But the father stops her: “There’s no need to react immediately. Let’s hear the rest about this stoning.”
~~~
The feeling that arises when we read about the law of Ben Sorer Umoreh—a rebellious son—is similar to the reaction to the above sketch by the Dati-Leumi comedy group “Underdos.” It seems like a bad joke; it is absurd. Are we really supposed to stone a child because he behaves mischievously and does not listen to his parents? What kind of moral message is G-d conveying to us here?
Even the statement by the sages that a rebellious son never existed and that the entire purpose of this section in the Torah is for intellectual discussion does not alleviate the sense of absurdity. Even such a theoretical law does not seem morally right.
To understand the message the Torah is trying to convey, we need to look at the laws of the ancient world, with which the Torah engages - and offers an alternative.
In ancient Mesopotamia, where they adhered to the laws of King Hammurabi, a child who did not accept the authority of his parents and said: “You are not my father and mother,” would have his head shaved, be led in a 'shame parade' around the city, and then be expelled from his parents’ house and inheritance. His parents were entitled to sell him into slavery to the highest bidder.
Even in ancient Rome, thousands of years later, the law was similar. A child who did not obey his parents would be sold into slavery and would no longer be considered their child. In other words, a child who refused to accept the rules effectively lost their childhood.
These approaches present a shocking moral stance: the relationship between parents and children stands only when it is convenient and pleasant. When a conflict arises, the connection can be severed, and the child can be expelled from the family.
In contrast, the Torah presents a cynical critique of the prevailing laws in the region surrounding the people of Israel. It sarcastically offers the desperate parents one option: if you cannot educate him, then kill your son—with your own hands. You cannot run away, you cannot send the child to a distant place, and you cannot shift the responsibility to someone else. The education of your son is your responsibility until the day you die.
Therefore, the sages limited the law of the rebellious and defiant son: the parents must be identical in appearance, voice, and opinion to carry out the law of the rebellious and defiant son. In fact, the law of the rebellious and defiant son never happened and will never happen because of the criteria the Torah demands. This serves to clarify the Torah’s subtle hint that this is a sarcastic law intended to convey a message.
The message the Torah conveys shines like a moral lighthouse for generations: the connection between parents and children cannot be severed under any circumstances. Even if the son deviates completely from the path set by the parents, the responsibility to rehabilitate the education and relationship lies with them and cannot be avoided.
Tsefanya Sperling is a former shaliach in Memphis (2023-2024)For comments: asafsperling@gmail.com