Many people who start observing more of the Torah will often find themselves at the crossroads of personal transformation and communal or familial integration. When you embark on a journey of deepened faith, you venture onto a path that leads you to embrace the teachings of the rabbis and messiah. It's a lifestyle change. It is not merely an intellectual assent but a profound alteration of the soul, marking a transformation that affects every aspect of your life. What you wear, what you eat, and how you handle situations that were previously part of the mundane but now are modes of worship. However, this transformation presents a unique challenge within the context of family life, especially if you find yourself as the sole member undergoing this profound change. The excitement and fervor accompanying such a spiritual renewal can sometimes blind us to the turbulence it might stir within the sanctity of our homes. It's important to remember that while you may feel reborn and imbued with new convictions and understandings, your spouse and family may not share the same sentiment. Your spouse may have agreed to share their life with the person you were, not the person you are becoming. Your kids may see you as being an entirely different person. Your identity is changing, your old self is dying, and your family hasn't realized you've moved into a new life while they cling to a dead identity without realizing it has passed on.
This transformation is not just isolated to your thoughts or your own body, but rather, it expands into everyone around you, causing a reaction in those you are near. A light can't turn on without causing the darkness to be disturbed around it. The darkness must flee or transform into light itself. The Torah is a light, and those who don't see the light are still in a darkness of sorts.
In this walk, empathy and understanding are some of the greatest and most significant mitzvot. We are taught to "put ourselves in other people's shoes." Consider how you would feel if your spouse suddenly embraced a set of beliefs or practices unfamiliar and perhaps even uncomfortable. Your date nights have changed; what you once enjoyed together is now a contention, and what you celebrated together is now an embarrassment. Every "change" they made seemed to oppose you, not their old self. While nothing is wrong with an anniversary, let's use it as an example. Your favorite day of the year is your anniversary with you spouse and it's theirs too! You plan the same meal every year - remaking the day you both said 'I do'. But then your spouse says, "I found myself, and I can no longer eat that food. And I can't do the anniversary anymore, I use to enjoy it but now I can't - I feel it's wrong." How do you feel in that moment? You spent years together. You don't want to change, you want to keep things how they were! Their new faith isn't a source of joy for you. Their new faith is attacking a life you built with them! Right?
The path of wisdom in such situations is not forced coercion but compassion and inspiration. The sages and messiah taught us the value of patience and the long-term view in all aspects of life, including spiritual growth and practice. While every mitzvah we perform is of immense value, the manner in which we encourage our loved ones to join us in our observance is equally important. To force Torah upon our families, to demand sudden adherence to its commandments, is to risk instilling resentment rather than reverence. The goal is not to coerce but to inspire, to make the beauty of Torah and its observance so appealing that it draws them closer of their own accord.
Think about G-d's perspective as well. Would you want a spouse that is only doing things out of spite or because they felt like they had to? There would be no genuine love or dedication to you, but rather the faithfulness would be out of social pressure or embarrassment alone. When you leave, they feel more relieved, and when you arrive home - they see it as a burden because they feel they have to behave differently. However, how much more valuable is a spouse who gets to know you and falls in love with you, and everything they do is out of pure genuine love and dedication. Their faithfulness is then not out of spite or force, but out of pure unbound joy. They look eagerly to your arrival when you get home!
Therefore, let your approach be gentle, your demeanor pleasant. Avoid conflict and discord, so that Torah becomes not a source of contention but a fountain of sweetness in your home. When you prepare kosher meals, do so with care and creativity, making each dish a testament to the joy of observance. Let every Shabbat and Yom Tov be an occasion of beauty and holiness, a sacred time that your family looks forward to with anticipation, not because they are compelled but because they are genuinely moved by its significance.
In the luminous glow of your faith and observance, let your life be a beacon. Just as every mitzvah is a light, let your actions illuminate the path for your loved ones. Through the happiness and wholesomeness of your life, you can guide them away from indifference and towards the radiant light of Torah.
In this journey, remember that transformation is a process, not an event. It requires time, patience, and a heart full of love. Your role is not to be the agent of change but rather a living example of the beauty and depth that such change can bring. Through your example, may your family not only accept but also embrace the path you have chosen, finding within it the same light and joy that have illuminated your way.
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