Marking our Journeys, Honoring our Age

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Editor’s Note: As Rabbi Address continues his vacation, we present another guest d’var Torah, this week from Cantor/Rabbi Rhoda Harrison, Ph.D.


Vayichtov Moshe et motzei-hem l’masei-hem al pi Adonai, v’eileh masei-hem l’motzei-hem. (Num 33:2)

We’ve come to the end of a journey. Sure, we have another full book of Torah to read before starting all over again at Simchat Torah, but Masei, the final portion of the Book of Numbers, brings us to the border of that land God has ensured will be filled with milk and honey.

We can imagine the excitement at this time and place, at the precipice of long-awaited promise.

What would you do at this moment? Celebrate? Rest up for the final steps? Strive to leave the arduous journey behind while eagerly making plans?

Interestingly, what the biblical editor highlights as the first task is none of these natural human instincts. Before offering any instruction regarding what to do when entering the land, Moses sits down and takes the time to write. He creates, for all intents and purposes, a travelog documenting the journeys leading up to this moment, the comings and the goings, the goings and the comings.

So often in Torah, we read vay’daber Moshe, “Moses speaks” giving active instructions, laws, admonitions on behalf of God. Here in stark contrast, vayichtov Moshe, “Moses writes.” Before moving forward, he takes time to reflect and record the journey meticulously noting all stops, as launching points and destinations, no less than 42 of them, some of which have yet to be mentioned in Torah.

I have spent the last month working in the Spiritual Care (Chaplaincy) Department at The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP). My assigned floor is a complex care coordination unit where many of the patients are not able to journey independently let alone leave a verbal or written documentation of their goings and comings. Their comings and goings may be few and far between.

CHOP is a place of hope and survival. It is also a place filled with abundant reminders that growing old is a miracle.

American society loathes the idea of growing old (except perhaps when it comes to wine). After a certain age, when asked our age, we never round up. On the contrary, the knee-jerk response for many is to shave decades from the numerical tally of our life. While acknowledging the number of years that have passed may draw more attention to our mortality than we are comfortable with, ignoring that reality doesn’t prevent time from passing. If we are lucky, we grow old.

So, what if we reframed our notions of getting old in a manner that replaced the idea of running out of time with a sense of awe in where we’ve been, where we’re going, and where we are? A sense of awe in our journeys.

I’ve never been great at journaling. My repeated attempts at keeping a diary have been interrupted by embarrassingly long spans of time. But, when I journal, when I document where I’ve been, where I am, and where I hope to go, I find myself able to be more fully present in the moment, in living. Sefat Emet, the late 19th century Chassidic commentator Rav Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter, reflects on how the Hebrew formulation of Moses’ travelogue underscores our journeys forward being rooted, dependent on where we’ve been and in turn, provide opportunity for reflection, growth, and self-discovery. The goal isn’t to deny our journeys. Rather, we are to honor every step we’ve taken, every day, month, and year we’ve lived.

Vayichtov Moshe, Moses writes. He reflects. He creates the journal on behalf of the Israelites so they can be fully present as they embark on their last footsteps into Canaan.

How powerful it can be to mark our journeys – our goings, our landings, the high points, the low points, the mediocre stretches in between, and our picking ourselves up each time and moving forward again.

Common wellness advice encourages us to live in the present. Documenting our past and taking a moment to reflect on the richness and varied nature, even the challenging episodes — maybe especially the challenging episodes — of our past enriches our present and draws us closer to places filled with the sweetness of honey and the nourishment of milk.

Chazak chazak v’nitchazeik, From great strength, may we be further strengthened and enriched in all of our journeys.

3 Comments

  1. Thank you, Cantor, for your moving commentary on this portion. Maxine and I are celebrating our 50th anniversary this weekend, shortly after receiving some very difficult news concerning our children. Your words were a great comfort, and I wish you much success in the next part of your journey.

  2. Dear Cantor. Thank you for your thoughtful and meaningful commentary. I think often about the courage and foresight that my grandparents exhibited in making their journeys to America at the turn of the 20th Century. Especially my mother’s mother, Bubby, who left her family in Ukraine to travel alone to America at the age of 16 in order to escape the pogroms. My brother, sister and I have no idea how she journeyed across Europe to get to Rotterdam to take steerage across. I don’t know if I would have had the same fortitude to make such a trip. And I don’t think anything I have accomplished compares to the courage exhibited by Bubby. If I do any journaling, I would want to write down the stories of my grandparents so that their legacies are not lost. They are the valuable lessons to remember. Best wishes from Sharon and me as you engage in your meaningful palliative care duties at CHOP. L’shalom, Jack

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