We tend to look at the past with nostalgia, thinking perhaps that “our best years are behind us.”  But this terrible year has made me rethink that truism.  There is a line from a piyyut, a liturgical poem, for Rosh haShanah that says, “May the year and its curses end, and the new year and its blessings begin.” May it be so. May we make it so.  

Maybe the best years can be ahead of us.  But we have to really adjust our thinking, because we tend to approach aging with a sense of dread.  I remember my grandmother Olive, of blessed memory, would stop in the middle of her regular kvetch about whatever she was dealing with that day, fix me with a look, and say, “Oh Anna, don’t get old.” 

We may believe that life has a particular arc and that as we age our choices narrow. And it’s true. Aging is objectively, physically, emotionally, spiritually, HARD.  But I think we make it even harder than it needs to be, with all the fear, judgment, and assumptions people make about aging. 

The more and more gray hairs I collect, I notice all the comments.  And I notice, too, the very critical, fearful internal dialogue I have around aging.  

So I took notice of the incredible negativity around how Biden and Trump ended up as our presidential nominees as electionseason heated up earlier this year.  Even though there was a pretty clear and transparent primary process, for various reasons, so many people felt a sense of resignation about the candidates, like there were no real choices somehow for them in this election.

And their ages came up again and again as a reason.  Why couldn’t he retire?  Was he power hungry?  Was that outrageous claim he made or that rambling response an indication of senility or cognitive decline? Both candidates were criticized for their appearance, their stiffness and stumbles in gait and speech. 

Much more of the scrutiny focused on Biden. Which makes sense; he is four years older, and as the incumbent he has a demanding, more public-facing schedule. Whenever he travels or gives a speech it’s televised. As primary season concluded, more and more stories were done that alleged that Biden’s aides and advisors aggressively “sought to minimize signs of how age has taken a toll on the oldest president in U.S. history,” as if there was some conspiracy to trick that American people into believing Biden, at age 81, had no challenges with stamina, overall health, and wasn’t at all stressed with the weight of his immense responsibility.  

Now, we should be concerned with the physical and mental fitness of the leaders we’ve entrusted with the public welfare.  That is a legitimate question.  But this…was more than that. Viewed through the lens of fears around his age, he was criticized as stubborn, stuck, and out of touch. More time was spent focussing on Biden’s stutter than the incredibly important issues at hand he was addressing. 

So in July when Biden stepped aside, I felt a mix of emotions.  I could see that he felt he had more to offer, perhaps because of his age. But I was also relieved because his age had become a huge distraction.  

And, I admit, I also was a bit disappointed because I thought I’d have to find a different topic to write about for the High Holidays.  I thought to myself, “That sermon idea did not age well!”

But wouldn’t you know, age has remained an issue.  Now, Trump is the older guy.  He is now the oldest presidential nominee in history. When comments about his age, mental capacity, and energy level come up, it’s not necessarily seen as fair, especially after Democrats spent so much energy defending Biden’s age.  

So is it ageist to say that a candidate is weird, I wonder? Is it sort of like saying, “OK, boomer?”

An article last year from the American Psychological Association posits that ageism, that is, when people make generalizations about a person based on age, is the last acceptable prejudice.  The article points out that nowadays most organizations have diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) departments to tackle issues such as racism and gender bias. Even in those departments, age bias is seldom on the radar.” 

In our society “being old is something to avoid.” We constantly make self-denigrating comments about our age.  So many store-bought birthday cards use age as the butt of a joke.  We purchase hair dye and anti-aging skin creams to conceal and delay the physical evidence of aging.  

Age in and of itself does not tell you what somebody’s experiences are, what somebody’s values are, what somebody’s health is, what somebody’s cognitive status is. But that doesn’t stop us from having judgments about what is appropriate for someone based on their age – what they should wear, or when they should marry, go to school, or retire.  Or have a baby!

In the Torah reading for Rosh haShana we confront the biblical version of ageism right out of the gate. This is how it begins, at the beginning of Genesis chapter 21:

YHVH took note of Sarah as promised, and YHVH did for Sarah what had been announced. Sarah conceived and bore a son to Abraham in his old age, at the set time of which God had spoken. Abraham gave his newborn son, whom Sarah had borne him, the name of Isaac. And when his son Isaac was eight days old, Abraham circumcised him, as God had commanded him. Now Abraham was a hundred years old when his son Isaac was born to him.Sarah said, “God has brought me laughter; everyone who hears will laugh with me.” And she added, “Who would have said to Abraham that Sarah would suckle children! Yet I have borne a son in his old age.”  

Of course Sarah laughs – having a baby at age 90, and her husband a centenarian, is highly improbable, even for the Torah.  But that, I would argue, is exactly why this portion was chosen for Rosh haShana.  The amazing lesson here is that life can renew itself in every age, at any stage of our lives.  

Is it crazy of me to think that there could actually be something amazing and beautiful about getting older? Because what is the alternative, right?

Our tradition is all about life, and living in the face of all the obstacles.  Multiple texts, like Psalm 6, Psalm 115, and Isaiah chapter 38, point out helpfully that when you are dead, you cannot no longer praise God.  And that is not the only thing you can do when you are alive. We only get one chance at life – so use that life of yours wisely, be grateful for it, and strive to make others lives better. That’s it.

Easy, right?  Cliched – definitely!  But this is wisdom that we need to hear, especially in this day and age. Because in our society, old age is seen as a liability, with the expectation that at a certain point we are “over the hill,” we are in decline, and we are expected to retire.  What, then, is our use? What is our worth?  And God forbid we should become a burden on our children or on society.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a great rabbi and theologian who escaped Nazi Germany and marched with Martin Luther King Jr in Selma, Alabama gave a talk in the White House in 1961 about aging.  He said, 

“According to all the standards we employ…the aged person is condemned as inferior… Conditioned to operating as a machine for making and spending money, with all other relationships dependent upon its efficiency, the moment the machine is out of order and beyond repair, one begins to feel like a ghost without a sense of reality… Regarding himself as a person who has outlived his usefulness, he feels as if he has to apologize for being alive.

May I suggest that man’s potential for change and growth is much greater than we are willing to admit…”

This begs the question, a perfect question, mind you, for Rosh haShana – What is the purpose in our lives as we age and grow? Today, we view life as having different stages, a kind of life roadmap, where one is expected to first acquire knowledge and training, then work and create and build and invest, and then finally to retire and step away from work. And perhaps find a hobby. 

But in the biblical world there are no such distinctions in living, no “arc” of productivity, because there is simply no “non-productive” stage of life.  A person has something to teach and offer even from the earliest age. 

Rabbi Menachem Schneerson, the last Lubavitcher Rebbe, has some beautiful teachings about aging, stemming from his own experience of having been advised when he turned 70 to step back from his work and “enjoy the fruits of his labors.” He argued that a person only knows true happiness when they are creatively contributing to the world they inhabit.  Why is this?  Because, he teaches, God created humanity to be God’s partner in creation.  God deliberately created an unfinished world for us to develop and perfect.  (By the way, Rabbi Schneerson died at age 92, and his last 20 years were arguably his most productive and influential.)

I am not saying we need to keep going and going like Rabbi Schneerson did. (Or Biden for that matter.) And I’m not saying age ain’t nothing but a number. The passage of time can be cruel. Our energy and capacity to give does indeed narrow as we age. But let that narrowing focus our energy and help provide us insight on what is most important to us, as we discern our highest purpose for the place we are now.  

And that is more of a shift toward being rather than doing, says Dr. Atul Gawande, author of the thoughtful, wonderful book “Being Mortal.” (I highly recommend it to everyone who is mortal.) He cites a study which found that, as people aged, they experienced more positive emotions than younger folks. The elderly were less prone to anxiety, depression, and anger. They found living more emotionally satisfying and stable.  

Psalm 90 tells us “teach us to treasure each day, that we may attain a heart of wisdom.”  Living is a kind of skill. The calm and wisdom of old age are achieved over time.  And I also think that one’s perspective shifts when you realize how finite and precious your time in this world is. Rather than fear the end, accept its eventuality. And so then, why delay gratification? What happens here and now is what is real.  Simple pleasures and comforts are heightened and petty grievances are disregarded precisely because we are exquisitely aware of life’s fragility.

For me, there is real satisfaction in reaching a point in my life where I’m not wet around the ears and I have reached a certain level of competency. I know my direction and I’ve achieved things I’m proud of.  It’s ironic, I suppose, that as I have found my voice, that I now more frequently forget and mix up my words.  (It helps to write everything out.) But I’m so much less hard on myself than I used to be.  

I recognize that all the skills and wisdom I’ve accumulated didn’t appear overnight.  The passage of time has softened me, strengthened me, and made me more resilient.  I am more grateful than ever to mentors and teachers.  And I humbly admit that in my teens and 20s, when I had so much to prove, I definitely wasn’t as appreciative.

Now, as a parent, I am in the position of having all this wisdom and life lessons to share which my kids do not appreciate. To give you a light-hearted example: they are always playing their music for me, and I recognize how this song samples another song that’s 20 years old, or that song is a cover.  I inform them constantly, “That’s not the original.” And then I have to play the original for them, and they are consistently unimpressed.  

So you may think, nobody wants to hear what I have to share.  But they need to.  We need to hear your stories, your experiences, your mistakes.  You are the original!

The younger generations need your voice to fully understand and respond to the immense challenges we face  – climate change, the growing war in Israel and the wider region, the growing divide between left and right in the U.S.  Young people don’t know an Israel before Bibi Netanyahu. They don’t know a world without plastic. They don’t know what challenges women faced 50 years ago in this country. They don’t know what it is to run around and play unsupervised.  Older folks don’t necessarily know the answers, but we have to search together.

It might be chutzpadik of me to say this to people older than myself, but our elder years are not the time to retire quietly; they are an opportunity to share our collective wisdom, to mentor younger generations, and to ensure that all that we’ve built, our legacy, is not lost. 

I am not saying we can’t travel, relax, join a 55+ community, or play mahjong every day.  I’m saying there is immense purpose specifically in old age, and we can’t shirk from the blessing and responsibility of it.  You may be retired, but you are not off the hook. 

While we are alive, we have a duty to praise God, each of us in our own way.  In “Being Mortal” Dr. Gawande reminds us that having a purpose literally keeps people alive. People, regardless of age or ability, still need to identify a purpose outside of ourselves to make life feel meaningful and worthwhile.  No one should feel that they are a burden, or worse, just taking up space.  

Everyone, even those with the greatest physical and mental limitations, are capable of giving and growing. We spend a lot of resources on younger people with special needs and support them to have full and meaningful lives.  So why don’t we have the same expectations for our elders?

On this issue Rabbi Heschel excoriated the distinguished audience at the White House: “What we owe the old is reverence, but all they ask for is consideration, attention, not to be discarded and forgotten. What they deserve is preference, yet we do not even grant them equality. One father finds it possible to sustain a dozen children, yet a dozen children find it impossible to sustain one father.”

Is a person’s worth dependent on physical ability or the amount one produces?  If a person’s output has diminished in quantity but has increased in quality, has their net worth risen or fallen?  Some years we will find that we’ve received far more than given, and some years we will have lost far more than we’ve gained.  

The harsh reality is that in our capitalist society today, we tend to think of people as investments, subscribing value to the potential use someone may be to our economy.  So, children, who have many years ahead of them, are a good investment; the elderly, not so much.

The Rosh haShana, let us consider how we honor our inherent, priceless, unique worth. We are not machines that over time become inefficient or gradually fall apart.  We are, after all, human beings, not human doings. We are each made in the image of God.

But our bodies will fail us, our energy will ebb, and our opportunities will narrow. Growing older is humbling, indeed.  We each need to reflect and reconsider our purpose at every stage of our lives.  What is it that we are alive for, now?

There is sweetness and opportunity to bear fruit at every stage of life. As it says in Psalm 92, a wise person is one who even in old age still produces fruit and is full of freshness. Perhaps the wisdom is in thinking of ourselves or others not as a relic of the past but as always having a gift to offer the world. 

Maybe you need to take that trip with your mother you’ve been putting off.  Maybe you need to downsize.  Or, maybe you should find a way to offer your expertise to someone in your profession.  Or help get out the vote.  Maybe now is the time to start a new venture or hike the Appalachian trail. Why not?  And maybe you decide not to run for another term in office, not because you aren’t still the best person for the job, but because your gifts are most needed elsewhere.

May we be blessed to offer gifts and behold new beginnings at every age. Like Sarah, may we laugh with delight at things we never imagined were possible. May the year ahead, lived with humility and intention and purpose, be a year of blessing.

Shana Tova u’Metuka!