Mishneh Torah, Tithes 7-9

Insight

Parenting often feels like a constant state of "tevel"—that raw, unrefined, and complicated state of produce before the tithes have been separated. In our homes, we are constantly managing the "mixture" of our children’s needs, our own exhaustion, the demands of work, and the endless, unceasing flow of household logistics. Maimonides, in Mishneh Torah, Tithes 7:1, explains that when dealing with sacred obligations, we cannot simply rely on the idea that "it will all work out in the end." We cannot drink from the wine before the tithes are separated, hoping that the dregs left at the bottom will retroactively account for our responsibilities. In life, as in the laws of tithes, intent is not enough; action must precede enjoyment.

However, the beauty of the Rambam’s perspective is that he offers a framework for these complexities, acknowledging that life is often a messy, intermingled container. He recognizes that sometimes we need to be stringent—to stop and intentionally separate the "holy" from the "ordinary"—so that we can move forward with clarity. This is the essence of intentional parenting. We often rush through our days, "drinking from the top of the barrel," trying to manage our children’s behavior, their emotional outbursts, and their developmental milestones without stopping to designate what is truly important. We hope the structure of our values will just "happen" at the end of the day or the end of the week. But just as the Rambam warns against the false security of retroactive separation, parenting requires us to pause.

On this day of Rosh Chodesh Tamuz, we enter a month traditionally associated with the "narrow straits" leading toward Tisha B’Av, but also a month of renewal. It is a time to look at the "mixture" of our family life and ask: What needs to be separated? What needs to be set aside as a priority? By creating these tiny, intentional boundaries—these "tithes" of our time and focus—we stop being passive participants in the chaos of our children's development and start being active architects of our home culture. We don't have to be perfect; we just have to be intentional. The Rambam teaches us that even when we are dealing with demai—produce of uncertain status—we can still create a system that brings order to the doubt. We don't need to be afraid of the uncertainty of parenting; we just need a process for handling it. When we acknowledge that our time is a resource that requires "tithing," we stop feeling guilty for needing a break or setting a boundary. We are simply, as the text suggests, ensuring that what we consume and what we give our children is "acceptable."

Text Snapshot

"If he says: 'The two lugim that I will separate are terumah; the ten are the first tithe, and the nine are the second tithe,' he should not begin drinking and leave over the quantity designated as terumah and the tithes at the end. Instead, he should make the separations and then drink." Mishneh Torah, Tithes 7:1

"The name demai is a composite of the Aramaic words da mai, meaning 'This, what is its status?'" Mishneh Torah, Tithes 9:2

Activity

The "Tithes of Time" Jar (5-10 Minutes)

This activity is designed to help you and your children visualize the concept of setting aside the best parts of your day before you get lost in the "mixture" of chores, screens, and chaos.

1. The Setup: Grab a jar or a small box. Label it "Our First Fruits" or "The Best Bit."
2. The Conversation: Explain to your children (or just to yourself, if they are too young) that just like the farmers in the Torah who set aside the best part of their harvest before eating, we are going to set aside the "best part" of our day.
3. The Action: Ask each family member to name one "tithe"—a tiny, high-quality moment they want to protect today. It could be "five minutes of reading without phones," "a calm conversation at dinner," or "one act of helping without being asked."
4. The "Separation": Write these down on slips of paper and put them in the jar. By doing this, you are "separating" these moments from the rest of the "ordinary" day. You aren't saying the rest of the day is bad; you are saying these specific pieces are holy, intentional, and protected.
5. The Follow-through: Before the day ends, ensure that you have "consumed" these moments. If it was "five minutes of reading," make sure it happens before the evening chaos sets in. This teaches children (and reminds parents) that when we prioritize the important things first, the "ordinary" parts of the day feel much more manageable. It turns the "mixture" of a busy day into a life of deliberate choices.

Script

When your child asks, "Why can't I just play/watch TV/have a snack now? Why do I have to do my chores/homework/quiet time first?"

"I know it feels like we’re waiting, and that’s hard. But think of it like this: we’re doing the 'tithe' first. We’re setting aside the most important part of our day—getting our responsibilities done—so that everything that comes after it can be enjoyed without that little 'worry-cloud' hanging over us. If we eat the best part of the harvest first, we don't have to worry about whether we did what we needed to do. We’re just making sure our day is balanced so we can have more fun later, guilt-free."

Habit

The "Micro-Separation" Habit: Every morning this week, before you engage with your inbox or your first major household task, take one minute to name the one thing that is "terumah" for your day—the one interaction, task, or moment of peace you are choosing to prioritize. Treat it as if it is already separated from the chaos. If the rest of the day falls apart, you have still "tithed" your time toward what matters most.

Takeaway

You do not need to be a perfect parent to be an intentional one. Like the laws of terumah, parenting is about moving from a state of uncertainty (demai) to a state of clarity. By setting aside small, manageable "tithes" of your time and focus, you create a structure that honors your family's values without requiring you to be a superhuman. Bless the chaos, keep the boundaries, and remember that even in the middle of a messy week, you are doing the work of creating something holy.