One of the hugest things I was raised with is the very important concept of respecting one’s elders.

Yes, I know we all are, but it was like in technicolor, 24/7.

There’s a grandparent in the room?  They get the best seat and the most attention.

A parent says something?  You hop to it, pronto.

The younger you are, the less honor and veneration you get.

The older you are, the closer you are to the Sinai experience, and therefore, the holier you are – by definition.

Yes, I was a normal child, and didn’t always agree or like the things my parents did.  But boy, did I know to be careful with how I expressed that.  Not because I was angelic, and not because I was punished or intimidated or anything unhealthy like that, but it was part of the air I breathed that this was a core and central part of being a Jew and a mentsch.

Now I’m trying to raise my kids this way.  It’s not always easy, or guaranteed.  But the results are priceless.  And the only reason it works is because it’s a third party – God.  He made up these rules, not me.

There’s the rub, right there.