Aging Wisely

Like many Boomers, the Beatles provided the soundtrack to my teen and adult years. In 1966, Paul McCartney wrote a song in late 1966 (my first year of college) when his father Jim turned 64, one-year short of the mandatory retirement age in the U.K.  Here is the memorable stanza:
“When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I’d been out to quarter to three, would you lock the door?
Will you still need me; will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four?”
Like illness, aging is an inevitable part of life. However, unlike illness, aging in Jewish thought is not seen as a burden. In fact, the Bible considers longevity to be a great blessing—old age is a reward for honoring one’s parents.
Several years ago I read a wonderful book titled “Wise Aging.” The book has helped countless readers to find new meaning and happiness in life. It tackles an array of issues such as romance, relationship, living with loss, cultivating wellbeing.  The book has spawned Aging Wisely workshops nationwide.
The Jewish people from its outset have paid particular attention to the welfare of the elderly. In many passages in the Bible the “elders” are the wise men, the judges of the people. This status was earned by dint of their wisdom and experience.
In the Book of Leviticus, it says: You shall rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of the old man, and you shall fear God. 
The rabbinic writers understood this literally, that whenever an old person passes by, one should rise to one’s feet as a token of respect.  On public buses in Israel the signage in Hebrew quotes this verse, reminding people to give up their seat to an older person.
The whole philosophy of care of the elderly is expressed in the Book of Psalms: “Cast me not off in the time of old age. When my strength fails, do not forsake me.”
The Code of Jewish Law states all sorts of rules about the meaning of “rising before the aged” and gives the definition of old age as 70 years.  It is interesting that while the Levites serving in the Jerusalem Temple were retired at age 50 because the work was demanding, it was not customary for rabbis to retire if they could still carry out their tasks adequately.
There are a number of instances in Jewish history of Rabbis serving until their death at a very advanced age. Rav Hai Gaon, head of the great Babylonian academy in bygone years, was 99 years of age when he died in the year 1038. He was active in his office to the very end. Last year I attended a wedding of one of my students. The senior rabbi was in his early 90s and still active.
For the past four years I have been a part-time chaplain and music therapist for a local hospice. One of my most interesting visits is to a man who is 107. He has an amazing positive attitude toward life, and I have enjoyed my many visits.
In his life George has witnessed the advent of the Empire State building, going to the top the year it opened, homes with and without electricity, depressions, and two World Wars.
His family knew both Winston Churchill “not so nice” and Mahatma Gandhi “very nice,” but it could be his innate curiosity to witness all that life has to offer that has kept him going. And he always has a smile on his face and thanks me for visiting him.
Recently, The New York Times featured a 107-year-old barber (recognized by Guinness Book of Records as the oldest working barber) who has been trimming a bit off the sides for 96 years.
He still works full time, cuts hair five times a week from noon to 8 p.m., and started cutting hair when he was 11 when Warren Harding was the U.S. president.
He spends much of his time on his feet, in a pair of worn, cracked leather black shoes. Rarely has he called in sick.
As to his longevity, he offered only that he has always put in a satisfying day’s work and he has never smoked or drank heavily. (Incidentally, when I asked George about his longevity, he said that he always ends every lunch and dinner with a cup of ice cream.)
As the population of the U.S. continues to age, more and more facilities are being built to care for the elderly.  Care for the aged has always been a hallmark of Jewish communal life.
Long before the establishment of old-age homes, those older Jews who had no surviving family could look forward to being cared for by the larger community. 
In many ways, the question in the McCartney lyric, “will you still need me” is asked by all of us, at every age. Is there any stage of life when we are not concerned about really being seen?  About not being heard? About not being needed. As we age, what many people most fear is not being needed.
Age-ism discrimination based on a person’s age happens all the time in business and industry.
Prejudice toward the elderly still abounds, and even if a person is older and still willing to work, that person often finds it difficult to locate work unless he is self-employed.  Judaism has always suggested that a person be judged on his or her merits.
What we owe the elderly is reverence, but all they ask for, as my teacher the late A.J. Heschel writes in “The Insecurities of Freedom” is “consideration, attention, not to be discarded.” 
It is undoubtedly true that care of aged parents can be a considerable burden, but in return, God promises longevity to those who shoulder the burden: “Honor your father and mother, that your days may be long upon the land which God gives you.” (Deuteronomy 5:16)
My wife Leora wrote her doctoral thesis which was titled “The Development of Children’s’ Attitudes toward the Aged.” The results of her study indicated that by ages 6-8, children begin to demonstrate negative beliefs and feelings about the aged. Her dissertation included a beautiful opening quote with which I conclude my thoughts:
“The prosperity of a country is in accordance with the treatment of its aged.” (Nachman of Bratslav)
Wishing you new doors that will open with opportunities and the power to prepare for future challenges. “May we use all our days so we may attain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalms 90:12)
Rabbi Isaacs is rabbi at Beth Judah Temple, Wildwood. He invites questions emailed to his website www.rabbiron.com