I’m here in Israel for two weeks with a group of young adults on a leadership program.  The Jewish Leadership Institute (JLI) was created by Rabbi Mayer Abramowitz more than 30 years ago.  He was a visionary.  He understood in the early 1990s that the future was on the college campus and that providing answers to the WHY of Judaism was critical to developing Jewish leaders.  I was introduced to the program in 1998 and have been a fan ever since.  Now I get to work with my friend David, Rabbi Abramowitz’s son, on JLI and the future of JLI.

While the focus of the trip is on the young adults, it is impossible not to be inspired by both them and the content.  I find myself thinking deeply throughout the different experiences and while I am not the intended target of the program (nor are you) the impact is felt.

Yesterday we had an amazing tour guide, Eytan Rund, take us on a tour of the Old City of Jerusalem.  I’ve been on many tours of the Old City.  Too many to count.  I love the Old City.  Last month, our guide gave a totally different view of the Old City that I wrote about.  Eytan spent two hours with us giving one of the most amazing tours I have ever experienced of the Old City. 

Eytan’s focus was on the difference between seeing old stuff and seeing stories, history, and memory.  The Old City was his muse to talk about peoplehood.  To talk about the Jewish collective.  To talk about what being Jewish means – being part of a mishpacha, a family, that is thousands of years old.  As we looked down into the ruins of Jerusalem from the time of the first Temple, he explained this was this built 3,000 years ago by Jews.  Well before Christianity.  Well before Islam. This is our homeland that we built.  He talked about how after the destruction of the first Temple, Jerusalem was filled in with sand to make an entirely new ground, well above the prior city.  It is always amazing to look at the areas from the time of the first Temple however this was different.  He tied it to us.  We built the first Jerusalem.  We built the second Jerusalem.  And we built the current Jerusalem.  It was powerful.

As we walked through the Old City, he focused on 1948 and the battle for the Old City as well as the battles with the Assyrians, Persians, and Romans.  The stories were vivid.  They were personal.  On my trip last month, Saul Blinken, our trip leader, talked about what a miracle it is that we get to wake up in Jerusalem.  We walk the streets of Jerusalem.  We breathe the air of Jerusalem.  That was incredibly impactful for me.  I am fulfilling the dreams of my ancestors from 2,000 years ago and I can never forget that.  Eytan reiterated that in his own way.  The modern state of Israel is truly a miracle that our ancestors who were conquered by the Romans could never imagine. 

It made me think of a story that my friend Harry Rothenberg told me a few years ago as we were climbing Masada.  I challenged him to do some on the spot Torah teaching about climbing a mountain.  He said that when God told Moses he would not be permitted to enter the land of Israel, Moses begged God thousands of times to be allowed to enter.  God refused every time.  God finally told Moses that if he climbed this mountain, he would be able to look into Israel and see the entire land.  Moses climbed the mountain, saw the land, and his love for the land he saw but could not entered is a part of all of us.  That is why we love Israel.  It’s a great teaching about how our love for this land goes back thousands of years.  It’s not since 1948.  It’s not since the late 1800s and Theodore Herzl and the creation of modern Zionism.  It goes back to Abraham.  To Moses.  To King David and King Solomon.  It is a part of who we are. 

One of the things I love about JLI is our morning services.  As somebody who does not like services, that is an interesting statement to make.  The reason I enjoy these services so much is because they focus on the WHY not the WHAT.  As we continued to discuss the prayers about thanking God for restoring our soul and for the rooster knowing the difference between day and night, we talked about time.  Previously I wrote about how Judaism marks the passage of time, so we don’t lose our focus.  Today we talked about how we are always trading time.

It is a fascinating concept that most people don’t really think about until they are older.  That is when we begin to realize that time is our most precious commodity.  We can always make more money, get a new car, a new house, new clothes, TVs, computers, etc.  What we can never get back is time.  Life is about the value of time and what we are willing to trade time for.

For many years, I was willing to trade time for money.  For career.  For ego and for title.  For status.  For the nicer house and the better car.  I wouldn’t trade time with my children – I took them to doctors appointments, went to their sporting events and music performances. I specifically remember having a small counseing practice and when I did the analysis of what insurance was paying me, realized that I would rather have dinner with my family than make money. Until I got a bigger job.

The bigger job, for some reason, changed the equation. I began to trade time more freely. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. I knew I didn’t like it but I continued to do it. After a few years, I realized that among many things, I wasn’t willing to trade that time for the money, title, and prestige of that job. So I left. My new job was still demanding but not in the same way. The trading of time was different. Perhaps it was because my children were a little older.

The question to ask ourselves is what is each experience worth? What would I trade it for? As one of our teachers here in Israel asked, ‘Would you trade your elbow for a million dollars? How about both elbows for ten million dollars?’ Over the past almost year, my equation for trading time has changed. I am eternally grateful for the last three weeks of my father’s life when I was able to be there for him and my mom. It is time I can never get back and I’m glad I didn’t trade that time for money, prestige, power, or anything else. I am not willing to trade time with my children the way I used to be. I won’t trade the time with my wife the way I used to be. My job today requires travel and it is not always balanced (July is a month of almost entire travel) but I built in time for a trip with my wife.

As we evaluate our lives, time is the ultimate measuring stick. Not money. Not titles. Not power nor prestige. At the end of the day, it is the time I spent with my family, with my wife, my children, my parents, that matter the most. It’s a lesson I continue to learn and I’m far from where I want to be with my willingness to trade time but I am much better than I was just a year ago.

Maybe this comes with age. Maybe it comes with losing a parent. I’m excited to take trips this fall to watch my older son coach college football. Sure it’s a 10 hour drive each way but who cares. It is likely either my wife or younger son or both will be in the car with me. Plus I get to watch him do what he loves. I’m excited to take trips with my younger son to sporting events, concerts, and other things. I look forward to planning the things my wife and I will do together and when not traveling for work, the time we just spend together as I get to work from my home office those days.

Life is far too short to give away our most valuable possession. Time.

How do you value your time? What are you willing to trade for time with your spouse, your children, your parents, your friends? Once you trade that time away, you can never get it back.