Rabbi Charles Sherman
Cantor Sebran's 80th Birthday Celebration
October 12, 2001

By Reason of Strength, Four Score Years

In September of 1987, we had a truly beautiful Shabbat service in honor of Harry Sebran becoming our Cantor Emeritus. Many of you remember that Cantors Hal Orbach and Paul Silbersher participated in that service, in which we rightfully honored Cantor Sebran for having served with great distinction for 23 years as our Chazzan.

In March, 1995, we celebrated Harry's 50th wedding anniversary right here. By happy coincidence, it was also Alice's anniversary, so we got a "twofer."

In October of 1996, we had a lovely Oneg Shabbat in honor of Cantor Sebran's 75th birthday. In June of 1999, we presented Cantor Sebran with the Amudim Award, our congregation's highest tribute.

Last January, you will recall that the Dean of the Hebrew Union College presented Cantor Sebran with an Honorary Doctor of Music degree in recognition of Cantor Sebran's many years of extraordinary service to the cantorate. He truly represents all that is best in the title "Chazzan."
This past June, Temple Brotherhood presented Cantor Sebran its coveted Isaiah Award. Tonight, on the occasion of his 80th birthday, all I can say to Harry is: ENOUGH ALREADY!!

Besides the fact that Harry Sebran entered this world in a farming village in Romania exactly 80 years ago today, I've been trying to research other meanings and significance of 80. The first that naturally came to mind is that while some of you have known Harry Sebran longer than I have, because he has now been here a little bit more than 37 years, few know him as well. We worked side-by-side literally seven days a week for 11 years - his office being within piano-note playing of mine. The only problem with that being it was the same piano note that was played over and over and over again. For me the first significance of 80 is that I believe that I have heard each and every one of Harry Sebran's horrible jokes at least 80 times!

So, with the hope I've always had of trying to improve your repertoire, let me tell you a story about a Yemenite Jew who, at 75 years of age, went to a broker to buy life insurance. The broker was not aware that Yemenite Jews are known for their longevity, so he said: "You expect me to sell you a life insurance policy?"
To which the Yemenite replied: "Why not? Last month you sold my father a life insurance policy."
The broker said: "Impossible! How old is your father?"
"He's 95."
"Impossible!"
"Check your records."
The broker, after checking his records, said: "I see you are right. Alright, come back Tuesday for a physical."
The Yemenite says: "I can't come back Tuesday."
"Why not?"
"My grandfather's getting married!"
The broker, astonished, says: "And how old is your grandfather?"
The Yemenite says: "He's 120."
The broker says: "He's 120 and getting married? Why is he doing a thing like that?"
"His parents keep nudging him!"

I shall not be surprised if 40 years from now we are gathered in this sanctuary to reconsecrate the wedding vows of Harry and Alice Sebran. You see, the fact of the matter is that Harry didn't expect to live to be 65, let alone celebrate this special birthday tonight. My dear friend, we never know. Psalm 90 says: "The days of our years are three score and ten." That is, the average life span which the Psalmist hoped for some 3,000 years ago was 70. Or even "by reason of strength, four score years." "And yet it is speedily gone and we fly away. So teach us to number our days that we may get us a heart of wisdom." The Psalmist's point is that if in the long span of the universe our 70 or 80 years are really so brief, let's not waste our time here. That is one way to look at life.
In this past Sunday's Tulsa World I read an article about the human life span. Today the life expectancy at birth for all Americans is about 77 years. In the year 1900, it was only 47 years. And yet we know that our life expectancy, based on statistical probability, changes throughout our life. So, somebody who lives to be 65 today has a life expectancy into the 80's. And today we have more than four million Americans who are 85 years or older and, remarkably, 70,000 are centenarians - meaning that they are at least 100 years of age.

Of course, there are different kinds of age. You can be chronologically young and spiritually old, or you can be chronologically old and emotionally young. There is no necessary, automatic correlation between the two. Last Shabbas morning, the 96-year-old great-grandmother of our Bar Mitzvah - Emma Braverman - sat on this bima and k'velled. She knew exactly what was going on. Abe Brand turned 95 this past August. Who among us doesn't hope and pray to someday be 95 like Abe. How do they do it? How do these people stay so young, even in their old age?

Well, first of all, let's consider this business of aging. How do you know that you are getting older?

You know that you are getting older when everything hurts and what doesn't hurt, doesn't work.

You know that you are getting older when your sweetie says "Let's go upstairs and make love" and you answer, "Honey, I can't do both!"

You know that you are getting older when you get winded playing chess.

You know that you are getting older when "getting a little action" means I don't need to take fiber today.

You know that you are getting older when you sit in a rocking chair and you can't get it going.

You know that you are getting older then your friends compliment you on your new alligator shoes and you're barefoot.

You know that you are getting older when your knees buckle and your belt doesn't, and when going braless pulls all the wrinkles our of your face.

You know that you are getting older when your back goes out more often than you do.

You know that you are getting older when dialing long distance wears you out.

You know that you are getting older when you don't care who your wife goes out with as long as you don't have to go along.

Ok, how do we avoid this? How do we stay spiritually, emotionally young regardless of our chronological age? I mentioned on the High Holydays that our Bible does not talk about birthdays at all. I looked for references to an 80th birthday, and I could only find one in all of the Torah. In Exodus, Chapter 7, Verse 7 - in the midst of a narrative explaining how Moses and Aaron prepared for their first encounter with Pharaoh - the Torah takes time out from the story to say that Moses was 80 years old and Aaron was 83 when they first spoke to Pharaoh. Now why does the Torah interrupt an important account to give us their ages? Ibn Ezra, a great Torah commentator, explains it this way. In all of scripture we find no other prophets recorded as having prophesied in their old age except these two, because their eminence is far above all the other prophets. What Ibn Ezra was saying is that Moses and Aaron are the prophets par excellence; the other prophets only repeat or reemphasize what Moses and Aaron said first. The reason the Torah mentioned this is to tell us that they were open to receiving and transmitting these revolutionary religious ideas at the ages of 80 and 83 respectively. It is not that they were old and God spoke to them, it is that God spoke to them and they were no longer old.

And therefore the Mishnah in Pirke Avot says: "Ben Shmonim ligvurah - 80 is the age of greatness and of strength." Anyone who reaches the age of 80 is a strong person, a survivor; he or she has demonstrated courage and stamina. There is no other way to reach such a ripe old age and, therefore, whoever reaches that age deserves respect and admiration and reverence.

So that the Torah says: "Lifney sayvah takum." We read this on Yom Kippur afternoon. "Lifney sayvah takum - you should rise up before the aged."

But there is a debate in the Talmud. One of the sages argued that our elders should be honored only if they are wise. Another claimed that all older people should be honored regardless of their wisdom. While this latter position prevailed, the debate raged on until the medieval commentator Rashi explained: Holiness pervades all aspects of life. The person who lives longer has more experiences and therefore the greatest number of possibilities for encounters with God. Each moment of life is of infinite value. How great, then, is the triumph of being blessed with so much living. Simply having managed to live a long life is an accomplishment.

In Judaism old age, then, is exalted - even with its disabilities. So, how do you know before whom to rise up, who is aged? A legend tells us that Abraham and Sarah were honored by being the first human beings to age noticeably. Until their time, one could not distinguish between young and old. This distressed our patriarch Abraham, for people kept confusing him with his son Isaac. "Master of the Universe," Abraham beseeched God, "make a visible distinction between father and son, between youth and old age, so that the elderly may be honored by the young."

"Very well," God replied, "I shall begin with you." Abraham went off to sleep; when he arose in the morning, he saw that the hair of his head and beard had turned white. Abe was not amused. He complained to God. God tells him, though, that his white hair is a "crown of glory."

You might say: well, that's fine for Abraham, but how do we transfer that sense of glory to our friends and family members whose aging takes so much of their own glory away from them, causes such suffering for them and so much pain for us? How can we watch as the cruelties of aging rob them of the very qualities which brought them respect and honor? Why would God allow such sadness or even create it?

Perhaps God is trying to teach us that being - just simply being, living - is meaningful even without doing or acting. God values every moment of human life, including the last years of people whose aging is difficult. Therefore, all of us may view our own lives each hour never as a curse, always as a blessing.

You know that people are still looking for that fountain of youth. Even this article in Sunday's World offers suggestions for anti-aging, how to add to our life expectancy. It is not a new question. The Talmud records that same question being asked of Rabbi Nehunya ben Hakanah, who lived to a ripe old age. His disciples said to him: "To what do you ascribe your long life?" I'd like to share with you two of his answers, because I think that they also are reflective of our honoree tonight.
Rabbi Nehunya said: "I never sought respect through the derogation of another person." In other words, he was always very careful not to embarrass another person. Harry Sebran has won our respect and has achieved a high degree of stature in our eyes without ever putting down another person. I dare say that nobody here tonight has ever heard Harry speak loathsomely, unkindly, derogatorily about another person. On the contrary. When someone says something critical of another person, Harry will inevitably say: well, but there may be a reason for that; or; on the other hand, he or she accomplished this or that.

You see, when we embarrass someone, it diminishes that human being as a person. It decreases his worth in his own eyes and makes him less capable of fulfilling his own real potential. And that is simply contrary to everything Harry Sebran has done in his career. He built up people. He took students whose own parents were unsure of their abilities, and he helped them demonstrate how much they could do - never what they could not do.

Another reason that Rabbi Nehunya gave for his longevity was -- "I never went to sleep thinking of a curse against another person." There are some people who specialize in grudges. These are people with memories like elephants; they never forget a slight, an insult, a fight. Long after you and I have forgotten an incident, they remember it vividly and in detail. They not only carry the grudge with them forever; they nurse it, they cultivate it, they help it to grow until it becomes like a cancer, eating away at their souls. It embitters their lives, it fills them with anger and resentment, it stays with them always and sometimes it won't let them sleep, eat or enjoy life. They will stay away from a Bar or Bat Mitzvah, a wedding, a simcha to show their anger, not realizing that in the process they are depriving themselves of life's most treasured moments.

Like Rabbi Nehunya, Harry Sebran would say: don't permit yourself to harbor grudges; it doesn't do anybody any good, but especially not you. Do any of you know of somebody that Harry Sebran is angry with? Doesn't speak to? Wouldn't want to help? I don't.

Now from a modern teacher, advice which I think Cantor Sebran exemplifies. No one grows old except by deserting his ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up causes wrinkles of the soul. Whatever your age, then, may there be in your heart the love of wonder, the appetite for what is next, and the joy of living. You are as young as your faith, and as old as your doubt. You are as young as your spirit and as old as your fears. You are as young as your hope, and as old as your despair. In the central place of your heart, there is a recording chamber. As long as it receives messages of beauty, of hope, of cheer and of courage, that is as long as you are young.

Harry still enjoys listening to new music, new composers. Giving old words new life, or giving us new words of prayer excites Harry, and he can listen to old favorites and hear new things. That is what keeps Harry emotionally, spiritually young and alive. I pray that he will continue to receive for many years messages of beauty, of love, of hope and of cheer so that he will be alive as long as he lives.

Cantor Sebran and I have a relationship of deep mutual admiration. One of the things which he has appreciated about me is my directness, and so I'd like to speak to the current situation in which Harry finds himself, along with many others. Harry's hearing is not what he would like, and that makes it difficult for him to sing. There are times when his legs are not as steady under him as he would like, and where the advantages of one medicine seem to be almost outweighed by its negative side effects. It is not easy getting old. He would tell you he doesn't remember everything that he would like to remember, though he still remembers a great deal. It is frustrating not being able to physically do what your spirit would like to do. Well, my friend, I'd like to suggest another perspective.

In our goal-oriented, high-powered, fast-track world, we focus on accomplishments. Too many people feel that life is worth living only if we achieve something. Yet this week is Shabbat Beresheet, as you well know. We read and study that first week of creation, and which day of that week was most important and which day is revered tonight? It is the last day, Shabbat, the day of rest. Our Torah does not tell us anything that happened on Shabbat; all we know is that God ceased from the work of creation and blessed this seventh day of rest. God declared Shabbat to be holy, precisely because of the cessation of activity.

I'd like to suggest that we look upon advanced age as the Shabbat of life. After retirement there can be time for leisure, travel, study and family. Your move to Zarrow Manor was truly a blessing for you and your devoted life's mate. You've made new friends and renewed old friendships. Such a Sabbath is meaningful and purposeful, even as it is more restful than the life of earlier years.

And for those of Harry's generation and older, old age is a Sabbath even for those with too few friends and indifferent family, whose days consist of waiting, watching, sitting and sleeping. For them Shabbat may even be a more useful concept, for Shabbat is not about productivity, but about rest. There is no such thing as useless activity or waste or meaninglessness on Shabbat.

I think we need to amend our concept of the cycle of life to allow for a glorious Sabbath at its end. These years, too, are part of human existence created in the image of God. Becoming a great-grandparent, celebrating an 80th or 90th birthday, witnessing the productive adulthood of grandchildren, perhaps even welcoming one's own child to senior citizenhood - all are among life's most miraculous possibilities, and none of these blessings can be achieved in youth. Rashi was right - long life itself is worthy of honor.

We may experience pain and even feel angry as we behold debilitating changes in ourselves and in those we love. Yet may we come to see the goodness in every stage of human life; in old age even as in youth, may we behold the signs of aging as "crowns of glory," and embrace advancing years as filled with God's blessings.

And so, dear friend, I remind you that in our tradition havdalah can be delayed, can be put off even as late as till Tuesday. Why? So that we can elongate our Shabbat and not let it go. Our prayer, Harry, on this 80th birthday, is that you and Alice will enjoy the sweet savor and neshama y'tara, the added soul which Shabbat brings you, ad maya v'esrim, biz hundert und tvantsig - until 120. Mazel Tov! and amen.

I'm indebted to the work of Rabbis Barry H. Block, Samuel Chiel
and Jack Reimer for assistance in preparing this message.

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