A significant problem in contemporary society is age descrimination (ageism). This is where successful old workers are let off to be replaced with younger ones for no reason other than their age. Luckily, this is not a problem that usually comes up in the Torah. In the Torah, the elderly are respected for their wisdom, so being older makes you more valuable, not less. However, an apparent exception is found in this week’s Parashah.
At the end of Perek 8, the Levi’im are presented with a forced retirement age. As soon as they hit the age of 50, they must return from the “Tzeva Ha’Avodah”, the legion of service, and work no more. They still may “Sheireit Et Echav”, officiate with their brothers, but they may not do any more proper Avodah. This seems like a clear-cut case of age descrimination. Why is it so?
Perhaps unsurprisingly, no Mepharesh answers this question. However, a ready answer does spring to mind. According to the Mepharshim, the Avodah in question being banned here is specifically carrying the Mishkan. Other jobs of the Levi’im (which may or may not include singing) are still permitted. Carrying giant objects of gold is (believe it or not) not easy, and as people get older, their bodies deteriorate, and they can no longer utilize the physical strength they once did. As such, the Torah wants to spare them the pain by preventing them from carrying.
This answer seems satisfying, but only if it isn’t inspected too closely. If the Torah was really so worried about old men hurting themselves, why does it use a specific threshold? After all, different people age at different rates. One person might be too weak to carry the Aron at age 45, while another might carry on strong through age 60. There is nothing special about the age 50. My father turned 50 a month ago, and I haven’t noticed any significant changes from when he was 49.
One could answer that the Torah needs to put a specific boundary for how long a Leivi could carry because otherwise, he might insist that he can carry the Aron even when he isn’t strong enough to do so, the results of which would be catastrophic for everyone. 50 is just the average time when most people are no longer strong enough.
However, that does not hold up to closer examination either. After all, the count of Bnei Yisrael two Parshi’ot ago didn’t have any upper limit at all, despite the fact that (according to Ramban) its purpose was to draft soldiers for the war to conquer the land. Additionally, Judaism never really sees 50 as the onset of old age. According to Avot 5:21, that doesn’t happen until age 60, a full decade later. So why is there a threshold, and why at this age?
Perhaps we can answer that the Torah isn’t commiting any age discrimination at all, by redefining the word “Sheireit”. The Torah says that while a 50-year-old Leivi can no longer do Avodah, he can still be “Sheireit Et Echav”. The traditional translation of that is serve, that the Leivi can still do some sort of service with his brothers in the Mishkan. However, that is not the only way we see that word being used. It can also mean managing or administrating. We see this with Pharaoh’s cabinet members, who are called the Sar Ha’Ofim and the Sar HaMashkim. A general in Hebrew is a Sar Tzava. What if “Sheireit” doesn’t mean serve, but instead administrate? “Sheireit Et Echav” can instead mean administrate his brothers.
Picture Kovi’el, a worker from Mishpachat Merari. For thirty years, he has been guiding the oxen as they pull a wagon holding the Mishkan’s beams. He knows his job, and he does it well. But he doesn’t get any respect for it. All his friends just call him “Wagon Guy”. Then, one day, Kovi’el turns 50. Suddenly, he is kicked out of his old job and put up in the administration. Instead of leading wagons, he leads the men who lead them. He passes on his knowledge about how to properly lead the oxen so that they don’t trip and the wagon remains steady to the next generation. Now he is important. Now he has respect.
There is evidence behind this suggestion. The Mishna in Avot mentioned earlier does make the age of 50 a threshold for something, albeit not old age. It has 50 as the threshold for Eitzah, the ability to give advice and lead, exactly what Kovi’el was doing in our example. Furthermore, a promotion at age 50, a decade before the threshold of old age at 60, provides a much needed boost. After all, if Kovi’el is not going to be promoted now, he never will be. He will retire as “Wagon Guy”. We cannot allow that.
In conclusion, we need to respect our elders. We cannot kick them out of their jobs because someone younger came along. The Torah doesn’t do it, so neither should we. But more than that, everyone deserves a chance at leadership. No one should have to live their whole life at a low status. Everyone should be able to be a Sar.