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