The Fruit of Life

A parable: Once there was a king who held daily court for his people.  They would line up for a chance to see the monarch, or better, to have a word with him.

One poor man showed up regularly.  In his rags he would present the king with a fruit on each occasion. The king graciously accepted it and then threw it aside, seeing the source it came from.

For ten years the beggar showed up at the palace and presented his gift.  One day, a monkey escaped from its cage, grabbed the proffered fruit, and took a bite.  Squealing in pain the monkey threw it aside, revealing a precious gem inside.

There is so much that we come to know as we age.  In the first years of life we watched our children scrape their knees, cry and then get up and be more careful.  When young we learned many things but that knowledge was a different kind of knowledge we possessed we grew in age. 

A young person quickly gains the know-how to navigate through interpersonal issues.  Then comes wrestling with learning how to recognize a friend from a potential partner changing past paradigms.  We learn how to achieve our financial goals, which flux with time, and live with someone who has different ideals from us.  Parenting brings new understanding.  Old age presents its challenges and new understanding comes along replacing the old.

Life is not linear.  It has bumps and jolts and lots of u-turns. 

When the curtain of life is about to draw to a close where are we?  What have we learned in all the decades of wanderlust?  The process of ongoing learning, unlearning and re-learning?  Bumps and diversions? 

Does anything stand inviolate at the beginning and end of time?

Yes.  The word for this in Hebrew in emet.  Emet means truth. It is unchanging.  Emet stands and alone remains at the end of the day and at the end of a life.

What you knew as a child is what you know now: 

Life is for giving and receiving love.

-The world is a giant playground filled with weird smells, sounds and fabulous colors.  It is meant to play in.  Use.  Don't uproot. 

-There are dangers lurking everywhere.  It pays to stick together. 

-Nothing should be wasted because it is so much more fun to repurpose. Ask any four-year old what to do with an empty carton.  Or ask any eighty-four year old why she does not throw out her old things.  You never know.

-Share with those that do not have.  What are you going to do?  Have it interred with you? Leave it to a family that will glare at each other in court over what remains?

Above is a distillation of the Ten Commandments.  Emet.

About the only thing missing is G-d.  And of course, where we began is where we end.  The first prayer we learned was the Sh’ma.  It will be the last words out of our mouths before our soul ascends.

So eat the fruit.  Enjoy but bite slowly in case there is a ruby hiding inside and more than likely, there will be.

The Rock of Age

What makes living so difficult is that we have received so many mixed signals.

When we were young, the choices were minimal.  In fact, there were only two: right and wrong.  Life was simple because that was what we were taught and what our intellect could grasp.  Every action of the kids in the sandbox had a definition - it was good or bad.  If little Yankle threw sand into Havvah’s face, Yankle was punished.

As we grew, more messages, often contradicting our primary understanding of behavior, began to emerge.  Now, it was more important to win than lose.  Possessions began to matter to the extent that they defined our life’s purpose.  People who had a lot of things counted for more than people who had less.  Coming out “on top” in school, sports, various competitions, play, music or whatever became the focus of our endeavors.           

About the same time, hues of gray became more numerous than the black and whites of youth.  Truths were fewer while relative or ephemeral truths grew more numerous.  It became harder to tell the good guys from the bad guys.  Now when Yankle threw sand at Havvah, we asked what Havvah did to provoke Yankle.

Growing up brought with it ‘relative morality’.  Nothing was absolute any more.  There were no rights.  No absolute wrongs.  Everything depended upon your viewpoint.  In order to be truly objective, you had to understand every facet of a tale before making a judgment.  Of course, this made making judgments rather difficult, if not impossible.

A legend tells that Abraham and Sarah were the first people to grow old. Until their time, people aged but on the outside their appearance remained the same.  They did not grow wrinkled, infirmed, or stooped.  Young and old looked alike. Father Abraham became distressed because people confused him with his son, Isaac. “Master of the Universe,” he begged, “Make a distinction between father and son, between youth and old age.  In this way the elderly will be honored by the young.”
“Very well,” God replied.  “I will begin with you.” Abraham drifted into sleep.  When we arose the next morning he looked at his reflection in a pool of water: his eyes had grown dim, his hair turned white.  He turned inward.

The story overtly says something about aging.  Yet, under this veneer, the tale also reveals another deeper change that happens with time.  The race with others comes to an end.  “More” did not make us better people.  It did not even have a cap: more was simply a limitless chasm that could never be bridged.   “More” was a yawning, insatiable hunger that refused to be filled.  Beating the competition was also short-lived.  Around the same time, we stopped blaming the victim and instead took their side.  Almost miraculously we discovered that we were born to give, not take.

Maturity, whether it comes early or late, is referred to in our tradition as the “Shabbat of our Life.”  When we finally grow beyond the limitations of relative morality and emerge on the other side of life, a remarkable transformation has happened. 

In the Torah portion of Va-eira, we are told that Moses and Aaron were 80 and 83 when they came to demand the release of the Hebrews from Pharaoh.  Why does the Torah bother to interrupt a vital narrative that will result in the creation Jewish nation to tell their age?  Because, as the Sages tell us, Moses and his brother were not ready to deliver the people, receive the Torah, guide the foundling nation until they reached the age of maturity.

             Time can be a great gift, the greatest one we will ever receive.  “With years, comes understanding” as the Talmud sagely tells.  Like Psalm 91 states, “With age, we will flourish like a cedar of Lebanon.  Planted in the courtyards of our God, we shall bear fruit, even in old age.”  Seek the growth that comes with maturity.

Length of Days

It was ordained that no one should live beyond 120 years.  That number represents the outer boundaries of human life.  Moshe rabbenu died when he was that age.  For this reason, Jews have often said as a blessing to one another, “May you live to 120!”

It seems that staying alive is an art: eat the right foods, do the right exercise, take the correct vitamins and you may be rewarded with longevity.  It is usually a blessing to live a long life, although it is not always.    The Jewish approach to life is one of quality not quantity.  What good does innumerable years of misery amount to?  The only positive part about such a long life is that it gives us ample opportunity to “get it together.”

Here is an authentic Jewish approach to meaningful years:

Rabbi Hannina said, “Much have I learned from my teachers, more from my friends, and yet more from my students.”   -Talmud, Taanit 7a

Events are teachers.  Failures are teachers.  Successes are teachers.  And students are teachers…only if we are paying attention.

Meaningful living is connected with growth.   Through the millennia we have hoisted the idea that learning ennobles the soul and enriches life.  It lends quality to our years.  There is an old adage, “the more things change the more they remain the same.”   What a terrible statement about life.  While it is true that human nature may remain the same we do not have to accept that for ourselves.   We do not have to sop growing just because we pass out of teenage years.  As David’s poem goes, “even in old age they shall bring forth fruit.”  -Psalm 92 

Growth can be ongoing.  And each time we gain wisdom our universe glows a bit brighter.  Life looms larger.  The colors of the world become invested with greater vibrancy.  And length of pales beside the quality of each moment lived.

When Rabbi Noach assumed the rabbinical post from his father, Rabbi Mordecai, his followers noticed subtle changes in the way he did things.  His ways were unlike his father.  The disciples gather and asked why he was conducting himself so differently.  He answered, “I do just as my father did.  Just as he did not imitate, so I do not imitate.”

A life that matters comes from an open heart and an open mind.   Open them to Torah.

Again and Again

A rabbinic colleague said number of years ago that he peered into the old records of his synagogue archives.  Specifically, he looked at the minutes of past Board Meetings that took place decades before.  He laughed as he told me, “You know, if you changed the names, they are the exact same conversations we have at today’s Board Meetings.”  I chuckled along with him and mused how life is not linear; it circles around and repeats itself. 

One of the things that time has taught me is that you cannot tell anyone anything they do not want (or cannot) hear.  Argue your point forever and if the person is not disposed to hear they will not listen.   Argumentation only works if at least one of the parties is willing to listen.

In the Mishna, Elisha ben Abuyah asked:

He who learns when a child, to what is he compared?

To ink written upon a new writing sheet.

And he who learns when old, to what is he compared?

To ink written on a well-used writing sheet.  

Is this a compliment or insult?  Does this mean that the young are fruits ready to ripen with each bit of information we feed them while the old are calcified?    Or does it mean that the old have vast resources through which they cull new information to determine its authenticity and meaning?  Are the elderly simply more discerning?

I suspect that Elisha’s statement means both.  It depends on the person.  Einstein is quoted as saying that insanity “is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”  What if Einstein was wrong?  What if the same thing never happens again?  Since physical circumstances – unless in a sterilized, controlled environment- are never exactly the same perhaps we can expect different results? 

I wonder if real maturity is the ability to confront life’s recurring problems and be open to different outcomes?  After all, if nothing ever changes, if we know for a certainty that such-and-such will happen, how can we grow?

Youthful joy starts and ends in wonder.  As a little green shoot juts out from the earth from a tiny brown seed, a youngster whoops and shouts.  It is a miracle.  A puppy born is awesome.  Sunsets, movies, bedtime, and swimming in the ocean are unforgettable experiences written on brand new parchment. 

We grow and experience these things many times over in a lifetime.  When they come to us again, how do we greet them? “I’ve seen that a million times?” Or do we have the ability to throw open our arms to an old friend, a reuniting of kinship and affection?

That we grow up is a gift of God.  How we grow up is a gift we give to back to God and to ourselves.

Life is circular.  The earth is round and events turn like the gentle revolutions of our planet.  Yet, age is a gift that allows us to experience thrill time and again.

 “When we pitch camp, we pitch camp in a circle.  When the eagle builds a nest, the nest is in a circle.  When we look at the horizon, the horizon is in a circle,” once said an Indian chief.

Hanukkah is here.  The old Hannukiah (Menorah) comes out.  We buy those familiar multi-colored candles.  We say blessings as we light them, sing songs, and bring gifts.   Is it old or new?  Have we stood here before or is this the first time in our lives?  New parchment or old? 

Take the well-used variety that is warmed by years of use and experience.

Greet each new day as the first day.  Take Hanukkah, please.