Good morning, everybody. It’s nice to see everybody again. I wish you all a beautiful week. We’re very fortunate to be together here in the mornings, and I definitely appreciate that we all come together at the start of our day.
Shlomo HaMelech tells us in Mishlei, “Ateret Tiferet Seivah.” Seivah means old age. Old age, he calls it Ateret Tiferet—the crown of glory. Imagine that. It’s very different from the way we look at old age. Again, Ateret Tiferet: the crown of glory is Seivah. Seivah is old age. You can attain it through righteousness.
Let’s explain the beginning of this Pasuk (verse) first. What does it mean that old age is the crown of glory? In truth, as we’ve been learning, the ways of Hashem are all kindness. Even when we see things that seem faulty to us, as if there’s something wrong, in reality, if we study the matter a little more deeply, we keep unveiling tremendous chesed (kindness) and wisdom.
Consider old age and the whole system by which Hashem created mankind. People come into this world as little children, and they need a lot of help. Then they mature, and then they have strength. At some point in their life, they start to go, we’ll call it, a little bit down physically. They start to lose their koach, their energy. They start to lose some of their desires. We know that in old age, a person begins to physically deteriorate, and sometimes even mentally.
Of course, I think most of us would say this is not a good thing. If we were to create the world, we would not make old age. Why would we make people go down physically? What is the purpose of making them weaker? But in truth, when we get up on Rosh Hashanah, we ask Hashem for chayim, for life. If you tell me, “No, no, I’m not asking for old age. I’m asking for life. Life without old age. That’s what I want,” then if you’re asking that the world should have people living without the reality of old age and what it does for a person, we’re not asking this question with wisdom. We’re missing something very critical in life.
So I’d like to explain some of the hidden kindness of old age. First of all, on a simple, physical level: a person who gets on in years and has the same strength he had when he was younger, building businesses and families, and involved in the community—someone who is fully integrated socially into all the things he’s involved in—may suddenly realize that the time clock is ticking. It would be very hard for a person like that to survive in this world. A person like that can become very depressed at the thought that all of this will suddenly come to an end.
Generally speaking, younger people don’t think this way because they know they have time. A person never knows if they have time. That’s the reality. But if we play the odds, generally speaking, younger people don’t have to worry so much about whether they’ll be in this world the following day. So they imagine that everything is fine and that they’ll be around for a while. They think their business ideas are going to come to fruition. They’ll be able to handle all the great plans they set out to accomplish. Their family is growing, and they look forward to seeing their children grow up and get married, and to all the things we’re involved in in life.
A younger person doesn’t get depressed about leaving this world because they have in their mind that there’s enough time. They’re not thinking about that. But for a person getting to the finish line, it’s going to be very difficult. He’s looking around at all the things he has going on, including his family, his children, his business, his friends, his involvement, and his project. Now the finish line could be any minute, any day. That person can become very depressed, and perhaps even more so the people around him.
You know, it’s hard to talk about this. But we have to look at the world with real eyes. I’m not speaking without sensitivity, just with an eye for the truth. We all know we’ve been around certain tragedies—tragedies that have literally shaken us and shaken our community.
For example, when a father of five suddenly leaves the world. He has his business running and his family growing. So many people are relying on him for their Parnassah (livelihood). His children need him to learn with them. His children need him to support them. His wife needs him for strength and other things. So many people rely on the average 30-year-old or 40-year-old, whether it’s in business or at home, in the synagogue, or in the community. Whether it’s chesed-related, there are many people connected to us. They need us.
So when we have a tragedy, where a person in his prime suddenly vanishes—gone—everything is up, stop. We call that a tragedy. It’s not only a tragedy because it’s shocking and we say, “Whoa, what happened?” It’s a tragedy because, in reality, so many people have now had their lives altered because of this.
All of a sudden, the business has to change. The main salesman, the person operating the company, the brain of the company, is no longer here. The whole place has to reorganize itself and figure out how it can survive. It’s a tragedy for all his partners, his customers, and his suppliers. It’s a tragedy for his family most of all. Now what? What does the spouse do? What do the children do? What happens to all the plans? They were building a synagogue, and he was heading the project. So now what? What happens now? He was in charge of this; he was in charge of that. All of a sudden, the community has to scramble. He has all the codes to go forward.
We call that a tragedy because so many people are affected, and many people have a very hard time recuperating from such tragedies. It’s not just the sadness of missing somebody who left you, which is difficult in itself. A tragedy is when you get hit hard and your life has been so negatively affected and changed. It’s shocking. You don’t know what to do next.
Now, Baruch Hashem (Blessed is Hashem), we don’t see so many tragedies like that. Once in a while, we experience something like that. But let’s think for a minute. A person or family who goes through such a tragedy, like I said, takes a very long time to recuperate, if they recuperate at all. There are all kinds of help. Could you imagine if every time a person passed away in this world, it were a tragedy of such a high level? These tragedies, like I said, we’re able to deal with. They don’t come that often. They’re distributed in a way where it happens, hopefully, not even once a year—once in two years. It doesn’t happen that often.
Could you imagine that? Could you imagine that every morning we would wake up and there would be another tragedy? There’d be two tragedies. The world would be unbearable. We could not move forward. Imagine waking up one morning and hearing, “Oh, that guy passed away.” What? Shocking. Could you imagine if every person who passed away were a shock? It’s never pleasant news, don’t get me wrong. It’s never pleasant news when you hear that someone passed away. There’s always sadness for his friends, his family, and his community. No question. And we have mourning. We have Avelut (mourning).
But at the end of the day, it’s not a tragedy. It’s something you’re able to handle. People die every day; we have funerals, but we’re not shocked. We don’t sit here and say, “Wow, my whole world changed. Upside down.” But that’s what it would be like if there were no old age and Hashem didn’t prepare the person himself, especially for the people around him.
In what way does Hashem prepare us? As you start getting older, you lose your ability to have children. When you’re ready to leave the world, your children are not as dependent on you. Do you know how big a kindness that is? There comes a point in life—especially for a woman, who has to go through so much more difficulty. We can never thank our wives and mothers enough for the childbirth pangs, the delivery, the pregnancy, and what they do for our children. Do you know how much energy that takes? A man can never understand the amount of toil and work a woman has to go through when she has a child.
That is why women, already at a younger age than men, lose their ability to bring children into the world. Hashem is preparing the world so that it can be a place without tragedies. Could you imagine a woman having a baby at the age of 90? And now what happens if she leaves the world? What happens to the baby who is relying on her? What happens to her family, for whom she’s cooking and shopping, and of which she’s the rock? It would be a tragedy every single day.
The Creator, in His wisdom, created a world where, even when people leave us at some point, that is a reality of being human. We’re here in this world for a short time. It’s not depressing when we know we have to leave the world. The opposite: when we know we have to leave the world, we get excited to accomplish. We have a lot to do here. But the reality is that we come in one day and leave at some point.
Hashem prepares it in a way where, when a person leaves the world, his children are no longer relying on him. Usually, they’ve already moved out. They got married. They’re building their own lives. Yes, they talk to him. Yes, they’re in touch with him. But it’s not the same. The connection is no longer as essential as it was when they were younger. He doesn’t see his friends as much anymore. He’s not running like he used to. It takes him a long time to do things that used to take him a very short time. Maybe he feels a little more uncomfortable in certain situations. And he himself prepares, because the world isn’t as exciting, we’ll call it, as it was when he was younger. That person becomes more ready to prepare himself for his next stop.
And the people around him, yes, they’re going to miss him, of course. They mourn, of course. But it’s very possible to go on and live your life. His partners are no longer depending on him. He’s no longer bringing in Parnassah. He’s not developing these huge things in the middle of the project. It’s not like that anymore. His friends haven’t seen him for a year already.
The kindness of old age. We must never forget that a world without old age is a world we probably could not survive. But the most important advantage of old age—and that’s what Shlomo HaMelech is talking about when he says it’s a crown of glory—is that as a person starts to get physically weak, which is a reality of old age, he becomes more sensitive and freer to think about the real things in this world.
Now his mind is not so much in business; he’s brought up his family already, and he doesn’t have all these physical things on top of his head. He was traveling, going from place to place, buying, selling, doing, building, and all of a sudden it starts to slow down. When things start to slow down, the person now has time to plan for his next and most important stop: his eternity.
That’s why you see—it doesn’t mean he has to. Again, life is free choice. Hashem cannot force us to do anything. Certainly, that stage of life gives a person a little more ability to do better things in his life. He becomes more humble. He can. It doesn’t necessarily have to be, but he can become more humble. He starts to spend more time learning because he’s not able to run around anymore, play basketball, travel, do, jump, and go. He can’t do it. So now he still has his mind. He’s able to learn.
You see that a lot of times older men start to get into learning. Lucky is the person who understands how many more years you can add to your life when you learn. To me, that was one of the biggest, we’ll call it, pushes in my life to start learning more seriously. I told myself, “I don’t want to just live 50, 60, 70 years. I want to be able to live out my life even when I’m 90 and 100, and if I reach whatever age. I know that one thing you have, unless Hashem takes your mind away, but in general, if you have a mind, you can always learn. No matter where I am, no matter what I will be doing, I know that I will always be able to enjoy this world because I’ll be able to open a book. I’ll be able to appreciate learning.”
As a person gets older, all of a sudden he has more time, more experience, and more awareness of wisdom. People start to appreciate what life’s all about. They’ve already learned their lessons about certain things they worried about for 30 years that, in the end, never happened. They didn’t have to worry so much. They spent their whole life worrying about things, and Baruch Hashem, everything turned out okay. They learned from that. They learned from their experiences not to worry anymore. They learned from their experiences how certain things they were so heavy on were nonsense. So many things they thought were essential and critical. They were running after people to have them recognize them. Hopefully, at some age, they realize, “You know what? What’s the difference? What’s the difference in what people think? Here you are. You’re 75 years old, sitting in your home. Does it matter now what people think? What does it matter? The same people you were trying to impress your whole life—they’re home, and you’re home.”
You start to pick things up and realize what is really a priority in this world. That is your spiritual growth. That’s the most important part of old age. The most important part of old age is that you start to grow. Even if you didn’t prepare too much in your life, at the end of your life you can do something. It’s not recommended to wait until the end of your life to do it, because at the end you have limited strength. But it’s something. It’s like a father who sees that his son is not making it, and he’s not doing what it takes to really produce and succeed, so he gives him at least an ability to succeed a little bit.
Old age gives each human the ability to regather, recalculate, and pay attention to the important things in life: to read a little more Tehillim, to go to Bet Knesset (synagogue), to spend more time doing Shiurim. Come to a class like this. Listen to other classes. That’s what old age is for. Old age is for that. Yes, it has many physical benefits, as we described earlier, for the person himself and for the people around him. For sure.
But, says Shlomo HaMelech, old age is the crown of glory. It can bring a crown onto a person’s head. I know people who, at an old age, started to learn. They never learned in their life. It’s so hard to start learning when you’re older. But you know what? They swallow their pride and start to get involved with wisdom. They start to read books and study. They start to open the Gemara. They start learning.
I know a person at the age of 70. He got help learning how to learn. So difficult, but so precious. All his life he’s been running, running, running, running. Now he found time to spend with his creator, by learning, by tefillah (prayer).
Old age is the glory. Why is it a glory? Because an old man gives good advice. He’s able to help his children and grandchildren and the people around him. Hashem gave him a certain look.
You should know that Avraham Avinu was the first one. It says, “Avraham zaken” (Abraham was old). Before Avraham Avinu, there was no old age. What does that mean, that there was no old age? It means that people looked the same. Avraham Avinu says to Borei Olam, “Me and my son come into a room. People don’t know who’s older, me or him. Is that appropriate?”
That’s why Hashem says, “Ve'Avraham zaken” (And Abraham was old). “You’ll be the first one, the first old man.” But Avraham was looking for recognition for his age? No, Avraham was not looking for recognition. Avraham understood the power of the Lord. Avraham understood the power of the Lord: the power of an older person and the wisdom of an older person. How will young people know who to go ask for advice? Hashem says, “Okay, I got you, Avraham. We’re going to make a crown for them.” We see an older man and his hair is changing. That’s a crown. That’s giving all of us an address to ask questions and ask for advice.
Of course, if they had a life of fulfillment, like at the end, if they live a life of righteousness, they become an amazing address. They become an address like none other. A man who has lived a great life and now gets older: you can learn from his Torah wisdom. You can learn from his experience.
By the way, the Torah tells us that when you see an old person—an old man, an old woman—many people don’t observe this as they should. You see an older man or woman walking next to you; you stand up. I’m not sure how popular that is today, but that’s a serious halachah (Jewish law). Whether you’re sitting in the Bet Knesset or on the park bench or in your office, when an older person walks by, you’ve got to stand up. Why? Even if the person is not a Talmid Chacham, not a great scholar, you still have to stand up. He’s not your father. He’s not your grandfather. It doesn’t matter. You have to stand up. You’re standing up for his wisdom. What wisdom? He didn’t open a book in his life? No, no. Just living life gives you wisdom. Experience gives you a lot of wisdom. For that alone, you should stand up. Imagine a person who also learned, and also has wisdom, age, and experience. You have to stand up for a long time.
The purpose of standing is to show appreciation for what you’re looking at so you can utilize it. Do you think old age is a fault of the creation? Do you think it’s something Hashem overlooked and He made people get old? What a terrible thing? It’s the glory of the human. Besides the physical benefits, like we mentioned, it has great spiritual benefits for the person himself and for the people around him.
I want to add one more thing, and this is very important. The example of Moshe Rabbeinu: “Moshe ben shemonim shanah”—Moshe was 80 years old—and Aharon was 83 years old when they began speaking to Pharaoh and Mitzrayim. That’s what the Pasuk says. The Pasuk says, by the way, I want you to know: How old were Moshe and Aharon when they started speaking? One was 80, one was 83. And of course, we ask, what’s the difference? Why do we have to do that now?
Perhaps the answer is very simple but far-reaching for all of us. You know how great Moshe Rabbeinu was. You know he was the greatest man who ever lived. Aharon was right behind him. Do you know at what age they started to accomplish? At what age did they begin to become great people? I’m not saying they weren’t doing things before. I’m not saying that. But how many things do you know about Moshe Rabbeinu before he was 80? How many things do you know about Aharon before he was 83? I bet you know very little. The two greatest men we can recall from history: Moshe and Aharon. You know when they started their step into greatness? One was 80 and one was 83.
Do you think that when you hit an age of 75, 80, or 85, that’s it? You don’t accomplish? You can’t learn now? You can’t do? It’s not true. The Torah actually takes a Pasuk and speaks to all of us. You get older; this could be the start of your greatness. Moshe and Aharon—remember, the greatest man started at 80.
The Pasuk says—we say it every Friday night—and hopefully, going forward, when you say this Pasuk, whether you’re young or old, you’ll appreciate it. Let me explain what the words mean. Seivah is old age. Yenuvun means to produce. When a person gets older, they continue to produce. They don’t say, “Now I got weak. I can’t build my business. I don’t have my kids around me.” If that’s your attitude, it’s over. Yenuvun: when you realize that old age is a time to accomplish, maybe in different ways than you used to. You have to take a different road. Yes. But it’s a great opportunity.
Says David HaMelech: whether you’re young, an older man, or an older woman, when you keep producing as you get older, Deshen means you’ll be fat. Not physically fat. Fat means you’ll be fat with accomplishments. You’ll be young. You’ll be vibrant. Hashem gives old age a new channel, a channel that is closer to the Creator. When we’re younger, it’s harder. We have a few channels, and sometimes we get distracted in the channels of the physical world. We’re not able to reach what we have to reach. But Hashem opens up a big channel for us when we get older.
Says David HaMelech: an older person who understands the new opportunity ahead of him has no reason why he can’t learn more or do more. You’re going to be so full. Your days will be full. Your vibrancy will be strong. Maybe physically you’re not as strong, but your accomplishments are huge.
I’ll end with a beautiful Pasuk about Moshe Rabbeinu alav hashalom (peace be upon him). At the end of the Torah, Moshe Rabbeinu is 120 years old, ready to leave this world. And the Torah says, “u'Moshe ben me'ah ve'esrim shanah bemoto.” He was exactly 120 when he passed away. “Lo kahatah eino.” Hashem testifies about this man that his eyes did not dim. “Velo nas lecho.” And his strength never left him.
And we ask: obviously, it’s a testimony that Moshe Rabbeinu remained physically young. But why do we need two descriptions? If you tell me his eyes didn’t dim, it means his strength is there. Or just tell me his strength is there. Why do we need two ways to describe it: his eyes didn’t dim and his strength never left him?
Perhaps the answer is that one is explaining the other. How can Moshe Rabbeinu be 120 years old and his strength not be with him? Moshe Rabbeinu was not a malach. He was not an angel. He was a human being, a great human being. But how could it be that he’s 120 years old and his strength never left him? Velo nas lecho. How could that be? And the Torah says, “I’ll tell you how it could be. Lo kahatah eino.” His eye never dimmed. You know what that means? It means that in life, when we’re younger, we have what to look forward to. Our eyes are looking into the future. We have plans, ideas, and things to accomplish. When our eye is looking to accomplish, it gives us strength.
You know how Moshe Rabbeinu never lost his strength? Because lo kahatah eino. His eye didn’t dim. He’s looking into the future. He had so many accomplishments that he wanted to reach. That’s how you stay young. You stay young by making plans for how much you’re going to accomplish. You have a lot to do, a lot to learn. Maybe, again, you can’t do the things you used to do anymore. But there are other things you can do. Make a plan. Make a plan to finish Shas. Why not? Finish all the Talmud. Make a plan to learn many books. Make a plan for yourself to accomplish. Lo kahatah eino. Don’t let your eye only look back at what you did. Look forward at what you’re able to do. And then, then you’ll have energy.
Old age is a blessing. It’s kindness. Only when people look into it will they see the kindness of Hashem, the plan and purpose. It’s kindness for the person, for their family, and for their friends. And the greatest kindness is for the people themselves: for them to prepare themselves in a real way for their final destination, which is eternal.
Another example of seeing the kindness of Hashem even when things look faulty to the normal human eye.