Thoughts on Parashat Vayigash 5785
A man, very advanced in his age, calls an insurance company and says that he wants to buy insurance. The agent says: “Good, very good, how old are you?” The man says: “I’m a hundred years old.” “100 hundred years old???” – replies the agent – “Oy, I’m afraid we cannot help you” – The man replies: “No, no, you have to sell me this insurance because your company already sold insurance to my father”. “How old is your father?” – the agent says – “He is 120 years old”. “120 years old and we sold him insurance?? Well, ok, come by Tuesday, and we’ll see what we can do.” The man says: “I can’t come on Tuesday, my grandfather is getting married”. “Your grandfather is getting married?? How old is he??” “He is 148”. “148 years old and he is getting married??” Oy, like it is his choice…” – replies the man – “His parents are marrying him off!”
In our parasha this week (i.e. last week), Jacob, who reaches the age of one hundred and thirty, makes a pretty bitter statement about his life: “[…] Few and hard have been the years of my life, nor do they come up to the life spans of my ancestors during their sojourns.” (Gen 47:9). Many people, particularly the young, often fear aging, sometimes even to the point of being terrified. In our culture, where youth is celebrated and aging is viewed with negativity, this fear can be exacerbated. While it’s true that growing older can mean losing certain advantages, there are also considerable benefits to gaining maturity. Today, I want to share some stories and insights from Talmudic and Rabbinic literature that address these perspectives and challenge ageism in our society.
The Talmud tells the story of Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria who was appointed to be the head of his rabbinic academy at the age of eighteen. Soon after receiving his post, he had a conversation with his wife where she expressed concern over his well-being; perhaps people would judge him because he appeared young and cast him out of the study hall. That night, a miracle occurred and his hair turned white so that he appeared “like a seventy-year-old” (Talmud, Berachot 28a). Because he now looked older, people took him seriously and gave him the space to lead. Maimonides, reflecting on the story hundreds of years later, wrote that Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria worked tirelessly throughout his youth to attain knowledge and wisdom, and he truly deserved this position. Perhaps if he appeared a bit older, others would show him the respect his wisdom deserved; he wouldn’t have to plead with God for the same “crown” as Abraham.
This story highlights one of the key advantages of aging: older individuals are typically treated with greater seriousness and respect than their younger counterparts. While this principle isn’t universally applicable, the Torah emphasizes its importance by establishing it as a binding law: “You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an older person” (Lev 19:32). Rabbinic Judaism takes it even further and makes this law absolute: the midrash tells us the Ten Commandment tablets that Moses shattered were kept alongside the new tablets in the Ark of the Covenant. It teaches that we must continue to respect the elderly, even when they are intellectually “broken.”
For our Rabbis, aging was a gift, not a burden. Perhaps because most of them were old! Who knows. There is a verse in the Book of Daniel that describes God as “the Ancient of Days” whose garment is like white snow and whose hair is white like lamb’s wool (Daniel 7:9). Many people criticize this portrayal of God as overly human and masculine, but that’s not the message of this verse! The essence of this image lies not in God’s humanity or gender, but in His age. When interpreted correctly, it highlights two advantages of aging: the wisdom that comes from experience and the power individuals gain as they navigate life wisely over the years.
There is a nice linguistic midrash that sees the Hebrew word for elderly, zaken, as an acronym for ‘zeh shekaneh chochma’ — a person who has acquired wisdom. Some rabbis saw the driving force of this wisdom not in our life experience but in our internal psycho-physiological dynamic – over time, our spirits gain more and more control over our desires. In youth, the body’s physicality often significantly dominates the life of a person, to the extent that young people are often prey to hedonistic urges and impulses. Those impulses are sometimes destructive, and gaining control over them at a young age requires a lot of focus and effort. However, as physical drives diminish over time, our souls gradually take control over instincts and desires, particularly if we begin cultivating our spiritual selves in our youth. The fact that our souls gain more and more control over our lives makes us less animalistic and more human! The Chassidic Rebbe of Ger, who regularly visited people in nursing homes, expressed this idea in the following way:
“They barely have bodies left and their physical yearnings have long been abandoned. When I look at them, I see pure souls. And there is nothing more inspiring than spending time with pure souls!”
To truly appreciate the aging process and enjoy the advantages I’ve mentioned—such as respect, knowledge, wisdom, power, and a deeper sense of humanity—one must live wisely in youth. When someone says, “I wish I were young again,” it often reflects a sense of dissatisfaction and unfulfilled potential rather than a desire for the past. If you have found meaning in your life, you won’t long to return; GOD KNOWS I CERTAINLY WOULDN’T WANT TO GO BACK TO MY 20’s – would you? Instead, you’ll want to move forward, seeking to experience and achieve even more.
The Talmud outlines the various stages of life: age 30 is seen as the peak of physical strength, while age 80 represents the height of spiritual strength. In the secular, modern world, where physical strength and beauty are often prioritized, an 80-year-old is frequently viewed—unfortunately—as having little value. In contrast, within the Torah perspective, age 80 is considered a time of prime importance!
The Talmud further states, “For hedonistic people, the more they age, the more their minds wane; but for Torah scholars, the more they age, the more sharpened their minds become” (Kinim, 3:6). The lesson is straightforward: we must maintain a proper balance between the two realms we inhabit—physical and spiritual. During the height of our physical strength, it’s essential to focus on our spirituality and self-control to mitigate the potential harm our desires can inflict. Conversely, at the peak of our spirituality, we should engage with our physicality, harnessing our spiritual insights and energy to invigorate our bodies and delay physical decline for as long as possible.
As the famous aphorism says: “Watch your thoughts; thoughts become words, words become actions, actions become habits, and habits become who you are.” If we don’t build good habits while we’re young and miss out on valuing wisdom during our active years, it can really hurt our chances of enjoying a happy old age. Living meaningfully when we’re younger helps us sharpen our sense of purpose for later in life. But here’s the good news: it’s never too late to start! Even if you haven’t focused on wisdom earlier, you can still create new habits and find meaning as you age. Embracing wisdom in your later years can totally change your outlook on life. So, if you start making wise choices early on, time can work in your favor—maybe not always your friend but certainly not your unequivocal enemy. And for those who start a bit later, there’s always room to grow and discover new purposes, proving that it’s never too late to live your best life.
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Mirski
