For such a big lemon-looking fruit there isn’t much juice inside. Moreover, there are about 100 seeds inside that all have to be strained.
Yet, there I was with my kids at my side, zesting, squeezing and straining; all because I had this compelling urge to “use” the etrog for something and to allow them to experience it as well.
After a long and fulfilling holiday season I had a hard time believing the holidays were over and I didn’t want to say goodbye. It’s a strange phenomenon: So much of the month of Elul involves dreading the approach of the holidays and the work that their celebration demands. And then they’re over and I regret their passing.
In my baking efforts, I recognized a need to stop and savor the time. Even though time passes at a frenetic pace, there are reasons to make each moment count.
“And they were, the years of Sarah’s life, one hundred years and twenty years and seven years. And Sarah died in Kiryat Arba” (Genesis 23:1-2).
The way that this Torah portion, Hayeii Sarah, opens is interesting. If we are discussing the lifetime of a person, why is the next detail mentioned their death? Moreover, why does the verse elongate the recording of Sarah’s age?
The midrash teaches that the reason that the years are mentioned specifically is that Sarah retained the innocence of a 7-year-old when she was 20 and the beauty of a 20-year-old when she was 100 (Genesis Rabbah 58:1).
A woman who is as beautiful at 100 as she was at 20 deserves to have her years linger as future generations read of them.
Not only was her beauty worth re-telling, the midrash goes on to say that we hear of Sarah’s death in connection with her lifetime because her years were truly filled with life. (Genesis Rabbah 58:1)
Would that at the end of our lifetimes we were described as filled our years with life, or our hours or minutes. How many of us can truly say that we packed much into our lives, and that we paused between the moments as Sarah did?
To be sure, there are plenty of excuses why we don’t. There are deadlines, bills, pressures and technological devices standing in our way. What Sarah teaches is that we must stop and examine our priorities and what really matters in the end.
In 20 years, will you remember the deadline you met at work or the long leisurely bottle of wine shared with friends at a Shabbat dinner? In seven years will your children remember the fights to get dressed to catch the school bus on time, or the extra minutes you spent reading a book before bed?
When we live to “100 and twenty and seven years,” the moments that will stand out are the ones spent celebrating with family and friends, the moments spent zesting, squeezing and baking.
So go ahead and linger over the etrog, the holidays and celebrations and the precious time that we are given to pack all we can into life.
Rabbi Shari Shamah is the Jewish family specialist at the Harry and Rose Samson Family Jewish Community Center and president of the Wisconsin Council of Rabbis.