From the Rabbi’s Desk
Parashat Vaetjanan
August 8, 1998, Beth Israel Synagogue
Rabbi Manes Kogan
Today, in the weekly parasha -parashat Vaetjanan- we will read the Ten Commandments.
I am sure that no part of the entire Bible (the Jewish and the non-Jewish one) is more well known to people than these Ten Commandments.
Nevertheless, not all the people know that the Ten Commandments appear twice in the Torah: the first time in Parashat Itro and the second one in our parasha, parashat Vaetjanan.
The word Deuteronomy (that is the name of the fifth book in the Torah) means -in Greek- the second law (Deutero: second, Nomos: law). Also among the Jewish tradition, this book received the name Mishne Torah, that means also the second law.
If we take in consideration this fact, we should not be surprised by the repetition of these Ten Commandments. Nevertheless, there is place for the question: Why does the Torah repeat itself? Why does Moses need to tell us again (even though with some differences) the same thing he told us three books before? We can understand the need of repetition regarding a complicated issue, but not regarding something so simple and obvious like the Ten Commandments.
Rabenu Bechya (1263-1340), a Jewish commentator of the Middle Ages, found a simple answer to this question:
"Most of the people standing before him had not been at Mount Sinai forty years before, and Moses wanted every member of the nation, including the new generation, to hear the Ten Commandments."
Rabenu Bechya is not the first who tried to solve the problem of the repetition of parts of the Torah in general and the Ten Commandments in particular.
However, I want to suggest another way of thinking on this issue, that may not solve the problem, but will open for us a good opportunity for reflection.
Sometimes, people repeat themselves, especially when they are old people. Moses was very old when he spoke to the people of Israel before his death, and even though the Torah tells us that "Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died; his eyes were undimmed and his vigor unabated" (Deuteronomy 34:7), we know that he was not perfect and may have begun to repeat himself. Also I can distinguish in this fifth book of Devarim (Deuteronomy), that sometimes, Moses -the patient one- starts to loose his patience.
What happens when people become older, lose their patience and start to repeat themselves? What happens when a person who was, in the past, wise, clever and sweet, starts to lose his strength, his good humor, his wisdom? I am not saying that all old people are bitter and tired, but we often see that some old people change their mood with the years.
What should be our reaction and our relationship with older people?
Rabbi Yeoshua ben Levi teaches us: "be careful with the wise old person who forgot his studies, because both the tablets and the broken tablets were standing in the Ark" (Berajot 8b).
Let me explain.
After Moses broke the first two tablets and brought the new tablets, he put all four tablets together in the Ark. Rabbi Yeoshua ben Levi teaches us that an old person who forgot what he studied is like the broken tablets that maintain their holiness.
Rabbi Menajem Mendl Shneerson ZT"L (best known as the last Lubavitcher Rebe) teaches us:
"In many societies today, old age has come to be a liability. Youth, meanwhile, is considered the highest credential in every field from business to government, where a younger generation insists on learning from its own mistakes instead of standing on the shoulders of their elders. At fifty, a person is considered "over the hill", and is already enduring insinuations that his job might be better filled by someone twenty-five years younger. Society, in effect, is dictating that one’s later years be marked by inactivity and decline. The aged are encouraged to move to retirement villages and nursing homes; after decades of achievement, they are thought to be of little use, their knowledge and talent suddenly deemed worthless.
On the surface, this modern attitude may seem at least partially justified. Is it not a fact that a person physically weakens as he or she advances in years? Is it not an inescapable fact that the physical body of a seventy -year-old is not the physical body of a thirty-year-old?
But is a person’s worth to be measured by his physical prowess? This question goes beyond the issue of how we treat the elderly; our attitude toward them reflects our very concept of "value". If a person’s physical strength has waned while his wisdom and insight have grown, do we consider this an improvement or a decline?
Certainly, if a person’s priorities in life are material, then the body’s physical weakening means a deterioration of spirit as well -a descent into boredom, futility, and despair. But when one regards the body as an accessory to the soul, the very opposite is true: The spiritual growth of old age invigorates the body. And the later years allow us to positively reorder our priorities, which is difficult to do during middle age, when the quest for material gains is at its peak" (Toward a Meaningful Life)
Society’s moral level is not measured in how it treats children or young people. All of us love children. All of us want to be surrounded by young people. It is not difficult to admire the vitality of a fifteen year old; it is not a big challenge to like the company of a beautiful eighteen year old girl. The big test is how we treat older people: how we can learn from their experience, what our level of patience is with them, and how much we can support their mistakes.
Of course I like a congregation full of children. I also think that the future of our continuity, as Jews and as human beings, is in the education of the new generations. But if we forget the elderly, if we lose patience with our parents and grandparents, we may have a house full of children, but we will give them the wrong message. I like children, but I would like to see them interacting with the older members of our congregation. The children's noise does not bother me, but neither do the mistakes and the forgetfulness of our elders.
Someone told me: Rabbi, we have a lot of older people here in Beth Israel.
I would like to tell you that the older congregants will be always welcome in this Synagogue. I would not mistreat the elders in order to attract the younger -G-d forbid.
To conclude, let me tell you that the Torah, the sages, Jewish Philosophy and the Hassidic masters thought and think about the elderly in a positive way.
"Lifne Seiba Takum Vehadarta Penei Zaken". - "You shall rise before the elder and you
shall honor them" (Leviticus 19:32) - teach us the Torah.
Honoring the elders -with their mistakes and forgetfulness- is a wonderful way to be Jewish.