1 The Measures of Our Years As Yogi Berra famously said, “This feels like déjà vu all over again!” It is good to be here this day! *** In the five years since I last stood on this bimah, I’ve thought a lot about time; what we do with it -- and in it --and about new ways to think about the content of our days. Did you ever take special notice how we are surrounded -- surround ourselves -- by instruments that measure the passage of time. They are all over: in our homes and cars, on our computers and smart phones; analog and digital devices, day books and old-fashioned calendars, that remind us of the passing of seconds, minutes hours, days, months, years. We use these devices to mark the pace of our lives. And, by and large, that pace is fast, very fast. We rush ourselves; we rush our children. We are impatient with delays in traffic, with slow moving people who serve us in restaurants and super markets, professionals who are not on time. How much we try to push into whatever block of time we have. Sometimes we long for a 26 hour day. And if we try to call a halt in what appears to be a 24/7 schedule, the smart phone, the e mail stream and the computer are relentless intruders. Many of us who have retired still appear to be moving at a fast pace -- myself included. And many who have no schedule or agenda report that they are busier than ever.” Why do we allow ourselves to be so rushed? Could it be that we are afraid to stop running? To slow down might mean to lose the economic advantage, or the social advance, or the opportunity to be well known in community, profession or business. And we worry about our children's future, if their schedules are not super-saturated with learning and enrichment programs of every stripe. Could it be that in stopping we would have to look at ourselves? We would have to be ourselves? We would have to share our feelings and moods and listen as others shared with us. Could it be that in moving at fast pace, lives cluttered with going and doing and competing, we are trying avoid the intimacy of relationships, of sharing feelings, acknowledging weaknesses, expressing deep-seated longings and hopes? Quality Time When we step back and think about it, few of us relish the hyper pace. As an antidote to the rush in our lives, we try to find “quality time” with family, friends or alone. Now there are probably as many definitions of this phenomenon as there are people present here. 2 Here is my ideal of ‘quality time:’ Periods when we are emotionally engaged with those around us, keenly sensitive to their needs and feelings. Here we value those around us not as we want them or need them to be, but rather as they are. Here the counting is in smiles or laughs or memories created for a some future time. Here we look to ideas discovered, beauty uncovered, creative work accomplished. Here we are connected to others. Here we marvel at the magnificent world of nature before us. All of these are moments when we are simply present with our souls. And beyond any means of calculating, we have moved to another plain of spiritual awareness. Quality time in family or with friends is not the board game played or the sports event viewed or the vacation itself. It is not found in the ambience of a fine restaurant or in time just “hanging out.” These are activities, sites, structured moments, the frame into which we need to insert our feelings, our sensitivity, our love, our minds, our appreciation and gratitude...the substance of our inner selves, the spirit within. Jewish Time You will not be surprised, now, to learn that we Jews have our own brand of ‘Quality Time,’ our unique way of adding dimensions of meaning, beauty, belonging to our days. Call it ‘Jewish Time.’ We measure the week from Shabbat to Shabbat. In mid week we contemplate the sweetness that will come when we can suspend time and its clutter. Then, at dusk each Friday, we enter what Abraham Joshua Heschel called “the cathedral in time,” liberated to experience another level of being. Shabbat releases us from the necessary tasks of life and bids us reclaim our higher purpose. Shabbat redirects us to tune in to another level of awareness: contemplation of life, the meaning of work, the privilege to rest body and spirit and turn to sacred study of all that matters, connection to our People, harmony with nature. With Jewish Time we view the years from a different perspective. Gone is the linear succession of counting from the beginning of life to it’s end. In Jewish Counting we experience a series of reoccurring cycles in harmony with the changing seasons of the year. We celebrate the birth of life in the Spring, the early and fall harvest seasons, the coming of winter rains, the first signs of reawakening leading to yet another birthing of plants and flowers. Not the winding down of life, but it’s constant renewal. Concurrently with the same cyclical parade of festivals - Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot, Hanukkah, Purim -- we align ourselves with the history of our people: from bondage to freedom, from growth to destruction and then to regeneration, again and again. And then there is the cycle of the spirit which this Holy Day season points to. Accompanying each revolution of nature and each turn in our People’s worldly history there is the spiraling cycle of spiritual and moral growth. Inevitably we make mistakes; 3 bad habits resist change. There is back-sliding, to be sure. But with the turn of each year we remember our ongoing ability to start anew, try again to reach closer to that pure and sacred core within. With every new beginning hope is renewed. If this feels like a message imbued with optimism, yes, it is! Life Measured in Generations But this expression of optimism, embedded in the Jewish experience, may not be sufficient, Given the pervasiveness of human weakness and society’s habit of repeating its’ mistakes, we must search for yet another way to measure the content of our lives. A supreme joy for a rabbi working in one congregation for extended years is the privilege to be with families as they move through their cycle of life. (My 19 years at Shir Tikva afforded me this joy and it continues: From birth to schooling to coming of age; to weddings and then again as the next generation emerges, grows and matures. Viewing our lives in the context of generations that have come before and those yet to be underscores the promise of a better, even a more perfect world. Taking in a span of two or three or four cycles of family -- or of community or nation -- we may glimpse advance in the human condition and take heart for the future. Those of us who remember the struggles of elders who fled oppression and suffering in Russia and Poland, in Germany and Central Europe one hundred years ago and less, affirm, most personally, that freedom and security can replace oppression and poverty. Pained by issues of war and inhumanity in our time, form the platform of history we find accounts of peace and reconciliation. From these realities we are strengthened in our resolve to pursue a more humane and peaceful world, despite regression and backward steps, so readily apparent. Aware of pathology in family history or our own youthful failings, we revel in affecting sea changes in psychology and behavior marked by mental health and maturity. Those of us who have watched others suffer tragic loss of children or young spouses are buoyed when, in the span of years we see them come to a time of healing and the renewal of joy. Those of us with elders who experienced disabling and fatal diseases are grateful, beyond words, for the life preserving and life saving advances in medical science with which we and our children are blessed. Those of us who just decades ago worried about the future of American Jewry take heart when we observe the renewal of Jewish practice present in some of our young families, including so many who embrace their heritage from the platform of intermarriage. 4 These days hope is hard to grasp, except, perhaps from the perspective that transcends our moment in time. Dor lador nagid godlechah. By counting from generation to generation we may gain both patience for the hard tasks of our lives and take heart that our struggles, though incomplete, will not have been in vain. God’s Time: Immeasurable Some of you know that these days I work at Hebrew Senior Life, often with people who are dying. As I walk into the room first I respond to the person in the bed, frail and fading. Then my eye turns to photos, diplomas, faded certificates of achievement and testimonials; the record of their vibrant years: proud, well-dressed women, handsome men in military uniform, family celebrations and milestone mementos. The disconnect between life at it’s height and the frail, diminished body before me without memory or recognition is overwhelming. Sometimes the life this person experienced is filled with conflict, struggle, chronic illness, dysfunction. More often, there are stories of quiet success, of bravery and strength in the face of adversity, of simple pleasures enjoyed, of life well lived. Whatever the content, it is a humbling experience to glimpse the totality of a life of another human being. In these moments, for an instant I find myself reflecting on my own life, still unfolding with vigor. And I ask myself the questions that we all must ask, important...and hard to answer questions: “How will I be remembered? What will be the sum of my days? What in my life will be lasting and what of me will disappear with the wind? Ultimately, for each of us, looking at our lives through the lens that spans the journey of our lives is a necessary experience. Each day, as I count the hours I try to answer these essential questions about my existence I find myself remembering the words of the Psalmist: “Adonai, What are we that You have regard for us? What are we, that You are mindful of us? (Psalm 144) ....our days are as a passing shadow; we come and go like grass which in the morning shoots up renewed, and in the evening fades and withers. The days of our years are three score years and ten or by reason of strength four score years. But a thousand years in God’s sight are but as yesterday when it has past, or as a watch in the night. Teach us, therefore, to number our days that we may be wisehearted.” (Psalm 90) 5 Herman J. Blumberg, Rabbi Emeritus Rosh Hashanah, 2010, 5771 Temple Shir Tikva, Wayland, Massachusetts