My mother always says that people die by inches.  When I look back on my life, I can certainly recall those who passed away in an accident or due to a sudden body failure, but I have also been witness to the gradual process of death.  Whether it be by cancer or Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s or the slow decline associated by old age, death can creep up on us at a snail’s pace. 

My godfather never accepted this possibility.  A giant of a man, his doctors told him that if he didn’t refrain from his gourmet lifestyle, he would surely die in a matter of two years.  He decided that he would prefer to leave this world enjoying his opulent dinners at five star restaurants.  The problem was that he didn’t anticipate that his demise would be agonizingly slow, robbing him of his bodily functions one by one and leaving his family to care for him in his diminished state.

In this week’s Torah portion Hukkat, two important characters in the story of the Jewish people die…Miriam and Aaron.  The text tells us, “The Israelites arrived in a body at the wilderness of Zin on the first new moon, and the people stayed at Kadesh.  Miriam died there and was buried there.”  Later in the portion, God says “strip Aaron of his vestments and put them on his son Eleazar.  There Aaron shall be gathered unto the dead…and Aaron died there on the summit of the mountain.”  When I think back on the parshas we have read since Simchat Torah, it seems that the death of the bible is frequently swift and matter of fact…whether it be by natural causes or an act of aggression.  We aren’t given a whole lot of detail regarding long illnesses or the perils of an aging body. 

There is an old Hasidic saying that death is as painless as pulling a hair out of a bowl of milk.  However, that comment refers to the moment of death.  So, what about the time leading up to that instant?

According to Rabbi Dayle Friedman, despite medical advances that have lengthened the span of life from under 50 years at the turn of the 20th century, to close to 75 today, we have not succeeded in evading facility and finitude.  Our society is loathe to acknowledge and accept the seeming inevitability of the physical and mental deterioration of most older people.  This has serious consequences such as the isolation of the elderly, the denial of aging and a loss of self respect among elders.

I see these scenarios currently playing out in my own life.  My mother is very lonely in her one bedroom apartment, but refuses to consider a retirement community as this would indicate to her and all the world that she is elderly.  Despite my father-in-laws early dementia and balance issues, he and my mother-in-law refuse to move from their upstairs bedroom to the one on the first floor of their house despite the steep stairs they must navigate throughout every day.

From the Psalms we are told “Do not cast me off in old age; when my strength fails, do not forsake me. (Psalm 71:9).”  It is frightening to accept the truth of aging when we fear that we will be abandoned by our families, our friends, and even God.  It is also difficult to contemplate the inevitable losses that we will surely face.  But, pretending that the aging process is nonexistent does not actually forestall the inevitable.  And, it robs us of our power to create a happy, productive, and safe twilight years.

Who is rich? The one who is

happy with what he or she has.”

Pirke Avot teaches that we access treasures by acknowledging and accepting reality; we suffer when we attempt to be somewhere other than where we are.

I told my 20 year-old daughter that she need not worry about managing my old age.  I vowed to her that I will make plans for myself, anticipating each stage of transition, and accepting the changes that are required.  For me, accepting this truth, will free me to concentrate on the ways that I can still contribute rather than spending my energy resisting what is.

So, as we each face our personal journeys through aging, let us remember that a positive and truthful outlook can fulfill the ancient vision that the Psalmists had for us:

The righteous will flourish like the palm tree:
They will grow like a cedar in Lebanon.
Planted in the house of the Eternal,
They shall flourish in the courts of our God.
They shall yet yield fruit even in old age;
Vigorous and fresh they shall be,
To proclaim that the Eternal is just!
[God is] my Rock, in whom there is no injustice.

In this week’s Torah portion, we witness Korah and others rebel against Moses and Aaron, and for their actions, dire consequences ensue. 

Most interpretations of Korah’s rebelliousness say that he was not justified and that he was a power hungry revolutionary.  But, what evidence do we have that this is really true? 

In the parshat, Korah actually only utters 3 sentences.

“You have gone too far!  For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst.  Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation?”

Rabbi Elizabeth Bolton says that Korah’s traits sound like components of an excellent character profile to describe the kind of person one would want working within a large organization…someone with a mission to prod at complacency, call attention to issues, and, at the risk of censure and punishment, call the authorities to account.

But, Korah’s courage was not rewarded.  God open’s up the earth and has Korah, his men, their wives, and their children swallowed up.  Then a fire consumed 250 men offering incense, and then 14,700 people die of the plague.  If anyone else was thinking of speaking out against the leadership, chances are they were now keeping their ideas to themselves.

Rabbi Bolton tells us that Whistle-blowers like Korah don't tend to fare too well these days, either. Those who call our attention to endemic racism still suffer economically through  lack of promotions and other limitations; corporate truth-sayers find themselves challenged with personal lawsuits; others are ostracized from their communities, and within their families.

Perhaps the story of Korah’s rebellion, complex thought it may be, offers a simple teaching about our basic freedom to challenge authority and redress injustice wherever we may find it.

But, I think that there is another perspective to consider.  We can also look at Korah’s story as a metaphor for the evolution the Jewish people.  It is possible that, at the time of the Israelites wandering through the desert, they were not yet ready for democracy.  Korah may have been the voice of a distant future that would bring a Judaism with a more egalitarian focus.  Fast forward to 1920 in America and we find Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan introducing the idea of Judaism as the evolving religious civilization of the Jewish people.  And, controversial even today, he felt that the people Israel should no longer be conceived of as supernaturally “chosen” people, but as a naturally evolving social group whose unique identity exists solely in relation to its unique culture.

Kaplan pushed for the removal of liturgical phrases like "He has not made us like the pagans of the world, nor placed us like the heathen tribes of the earth…" from the Aleinu prayer.  He felt that concepts like these were not conducive to the fostering of intergroup goodwill which his philosophy, Reconstructionism, maintained should be a goal of all religions.  Doesn’t sound too far from Korah’s statement that “all the community is holy” does it?  Ironically, in 1945, on the occasion of the appearance of the Reconstructionist Prayer Book, and around the Shabbat when Parshat Korah is read, Moredecai Kaplan was formally excommunicated by a group of Orthodox rabbis.

When I was working for the Jewish Reconstructionist Federation, I traveled all over the Midwest visiting Reconstructionist congregations.  One of the unique characteristics of Reconstructionist synagogue buildings is that there are no names on rooms, no public declaration of differing levels of giving and no special privileges for Cohen’s or Levites.  The whole community is equal when it comes to recognition for contributing to the congregation.

Mordecai Kaplan also understood evolution on a personal level.  “The only way to change the world is to change yourself into what you want others to be, he wisely said.”  Maybe if he could have counseled Korah, he would have told him that his influence on the Israelites may have been greater if he had introduced his ideas in a more subtle manner.  Actions speak louder than words, afterall.

May we each consider how, in our own lives, we can make an impact on the injustices of the world without being swallowed up by the forces that are less ready for change.

Shabbat Shalom.