Sacred Time
I
’
ve never been able to see the passage
of time as clearly as when I became a
mother. Before, I marked time mostly
by what was happening around me … two
more years until I’
m done with college,
three more months until
Passover, one more week
before a big trip, and so on
and so forth.
But things are different
now. I can see changes in
my children every day as
they grow into tiny people.
They are like sponges, soak-
ing up everything around
them and growing before my very eyes.
Things that fit the day before are three
inches too short the next time I take them
out of the drawer. New teeth, new curls,
new words, new skills, every single day.
And with every inch grown and every mile-
stone met, I can see time.
It’
s amazing. It’
s incredible. And it
reminds me that marking time is a sacred
act.
The High Holy Days are fast approach-
ing, and once again, this year has flown
by. As we prepare our minds and souls and
hearts and tables for the start of a fresh new
year, we are instructed to turn inward, to
celebrate our strengths and honestly reflect
on our challenges.
But it’
s also essential to consider how we
use this blessing of time. Our seconds. Our
minutes. Our hours. Because while we can
repent, rethink and recalibrate, those pre-
cious moments slip through our fingers like
sand on the beach.
Over the past year, what brought you the
most joy, the most peace, the most fulfill-
ment? Reading a wonderful book? Sitting
around the dining room table, laughing for
hours with old friends? Watching your son
become a father, nurturing his new baby in
his arms the same way you held him when
he was young? This is the stuff of life. This
is sacred time. And, oh, how lucky we are
to have a tradition that provides us with a
mandatory “deep breath” as the new year
begins.
This High Holiday season, let us cherish
the precious gift of our days, overwhelmed
with gratitude to God for these priceless,
wonderful, awe-inspiring moments that
make up our lives.
Jen Lader is a rabbi at Temple Israel in West
Bloomfield.
Rosh Hashanah
Rabbi Jen
Lader
O
ften, when we daven, we call upon
the merits and the good deeds of
our first ancestors to ensure that
God will hear us. This is especially the case
on Rosh Hashanah where the life stories of
Abraham, Sarah and Isaac figure so prom-
inently in the liturgy and in
the assigned Torah readings of
the day.
Abraham is a man of
action. He deals effectively
with the natives in his new
homeland, he ably handles
crises and he even challenges
God to act justly. Sarah, in
turn, deftly handles Abraham;
she partners with her husband on his some-
times-perilous journeys and she is fiercely
protective of her son. The lives of this first
couple deserve our respect; they serve as role
models as we ponder making life changes
during this 10-day period.
But what about Isaac? He does not seem
to possess the superior qualities of his par-
ents. He was the only child of older parents.
Such children are often indulged, “heli-
coptered” and spoiled. He was so attached
to his mother that he did not find inner
peace as an adult until he married a woman
who reminded him of Sarah. Isaac did not
protest at all when his father was about to
sacrifice him. He was the only patriarch
whose name was not changed as an adult,
and he never left the borders of Canaan. He
spent much of his adult life simply redoing
the actions of his father, namely, uncovering
the wells that Abraham had first discovered.
Isaac was deceived in his old age by both
his wife and one of his sons. What were the
merits of Isaac? Why does he deserve to be
remembered?
Perhaps the answer is that the expecta-
tions for Isaac’
s life needed to be far differ-
ent than those for Abraham’
s. Abraham was
a strong leader who founded a new faith
based on belief in one God; he was the pro-
genitor of a new clan of Hebrews; and he
had to establish a lasting legacy in a foreign
land. That was not Isaac’
s destiny. His pur-
pose was to solidify all that his father had
accomplished and to make sure it could be
maintained over time. In sum, Isaac took
over as a second-generation leader, from a
founding CEO, with the job of strengthen-
ing the newly created structures.
After Abraham’
s death Isaac did indeed
stay in the land. His job was not to explore
new territories and go on grand adventures.
His task was to renew covenants with neigh-
bors and to make sure that the living waters
first dug by his father continued to flow to
nourish the expanding flock. He carried out
this task admirably. Isaac also renewed his
relationship with his half-brother, Ishmael;
the Torah tells us that they attended
Abraham’
s funeral together. He understood
that the primary element of his job descrip-
tion was to ensure the continuity of the
enterprise; he succeeded admirably.
The Torah tells us that Isaac passed away
at 180 years of age (10 times chai). “He was
gathered up to his kin in ripe old age and he
was buried by his sons Esau and Jacob.” In
hindsight, he had lived a long and good life.
Yes, during the High Holy Days we do
read about Isaac’
s early years and we remem-
ber him in the liturgy along with the others
in the first family. We remember him not
because he was brave, bold, daring or char-
ismatic but because he was steady, reliable,
persevering and forgiving. We learn that
often these traits are not only important but
essential.
Mitch Parker is rabbi at B’
nai Israel Synagogue in
West Bloomfield.
Rabbi Mitch
Parker
The Importance of Being Isaac
continued on page 26
continued from page 22
24 | SEPTEMBER 26 • 2019
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- Publication:
- The Detroit Jewish News, 2019-09-26
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