Rise Up

It doesn’t have to mean verbal flubs, wandering off topic, inability to comprehend what is being said. I know many 81-year-olds who are as sharp today as much younger people. Old age need not mean senility. But thanks to President Biden, this is what age 81 has come to represent, and will become an integral part of his legacy.

And so  — quite apart from politics  — I rise to the defense of that vast army of octogenarians who are vigorous, energetic, alert, and robust.

Again, all this has nothing to do with the tempest swirling around President Biden and his obviously diminished capacities — although I do bemoan the fact that in a nation of over 300 million, America cannot produce presidential candidates who can inspire confidence — which in itself is an indictment of our system where mega-donors buy candidates as if they were berries to be plucked from a bush, and policies are crafted according to the wishes of the highest bidders. But all that is for another day.

For now, however, a quick question: How does classical Judaism view old age? Quick answer: It is viewed with great respect and reverence. It is all summed up in that famous dictum in Vayikra 19:32, “Mipnei seivah takum — Rise up before the elderly,” in which respect for the elderly is equated with reverence for G-d Himself. Our tradition is replete with dozens of tributes to old age: Wisdom increases with age, as does wise counsel, as does righteousness (Shabbos 152, Shabbos 87b, and many other such sources). Old age, even with its built-in physical limitations, is a banner indicating that the bearer has weathered the storms of life, has gained perspective, learned patience, arrived at some understanding of the self and of others. And note that the Psalmist in 90:10 and Talmud Gittin 28a refer to those who reach shemonim shanah —80 years — as emblems of strength, gevuros: “…v’im bigevuros shemonim shanah….”