This Torah portion at publication time is “Chayei Sarah,” the Life of Sarah. Ironically, the portion begins after Sarah’s death, giving no details at all about her life. One interpretation of this is that while the specifics of our lives might not be recalled by future generations, our legacy lives on through the way our deeds and actions impact those around us.
Life is precious and fragile, temporary and fleeting. We human beings are not meant to be here forever; we are born, we live, we age and we die. Many of us are afraid to speak of aging and dying, especially our own aging and dying. As a rabbi, and as a 74-year-old human being, I believe that great comfort can be found in speaking openly and truthfully about the natural process of life.
Some of us may be blessed with an abundance of years; others may not. Most of us have never been taught or trained to appreciate our aging process in a healthy, fulfilling, graceful and grateful manner.
Like most aspects of our lives, aging is complex. Growing older can bring blessings; inevitably, it will also bring challenges. Our Western culture is acutely focused on staving off the physical aspects of aging, mostly the decline of the body — gray hair, sagging skin, decreased physical mobility, weakening bones, aching joints. We place a high premium on looking and staying young.
We all celebrate the aging, growth and development of babies and children. What if we seniors decide to celebrate our own aging in the same way? What if we appreciate the gifts that each new stage of life, including old age, can bring?
Here are just a few benefits I see to growing older. We can: be less concerned with what other people think; say no when our truth is no; limit our social interactions to those relationships that are most meaningful, loving and fun; relish our calm, relaxed time at home without FOMO; discover our own truths about life; and experience the radical self-acceptance of arriving at a quiet, gentle place of self-love and shalom in our own skin.
Our tradition teaches us to honor and respect our elders and to view every stage of life as a sacred journey. Proverbs 16:31 teaches, “Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is attained by the way of righteousness.” The Holiness Code in Leviticus 19:32 commands, “You shall rise before the aged and show deference to the old.”
Along with the wisdom and reverence that aging brings, Judaism also teaches that we have a responsibility to pass our gifts along to the next generation. One of my favorite stories in the Talmud is about an ancient Israelite named Honi.
One day Honi saw an old man planting a tree; he asked the man, “How long will it take for that tree to bear fruit?”
“Seventy years,” replied the old man.
“Do you think you will be alive in 70 years to eat its fruit?” asked Honi.
The old man replied, “I found a world full of carob trees. Just as my ancestors planted for me, I too am planting fruit trees for my children and grandchildren.”
I love this teaching because rather than just expressing gratitude for the sustenance his ancestors had provided for him, the old man took actions to provide sustenance for his descendants in the years to come.
Judaism teaches us that we remember a loved one who has died and impacted our lives by remembering them on their yahrzeit, the anniversary of their death. We do this as an act of love, respect and spiritual continuity. We recall our loved ones on the anniversary of their death rather than on their birthday because when a baby is born, we don’t know how their life will unfold and who they will become; a baby is a blank slate. On the day of a person’s death, however, we know who they were, what gifts they taught us and how we want to remember them.
What sustenance and teachings will we leave for our descendants? Perhaps if we learn to understand and appreciate the gifts inherent in the final stages of our lives, we will have richer teachings to pass along to the next generations and, in doing so, leave the world a little bit better than we found it.
May we all learn to see and value our lives with honesty and compassion, appreciating our wins, acknowledging our shortcomings and finding the courage to pass along the wisdom we have gained from the mistakes we have made along the way. May this perspective help us treasure every minute of this one precious life we have been given.
ANDREW KLEIN is a rabbi emeritus at Temple Habonim in Barrington, R.I.