It did get me thinking, however, about a famous film that raised a similar question. It's hard to compare the storylines, and perhaps I am stretching things, but the quotes I present here from the movie "Saving Private Ryan" are provocative conversation starters, and certainly fit in line with my parsha piece this week. I present the quotes first (lifted from imdb.com), unedited, followed by the dvar torah on the first parsha of the Torah. The spaces between lines indicate that the quotes are from different parts of the film and are not presented as straight dialogue.
Private Reiben: You wanna explain the math of this to me? I mean, where's the sense of riskin' the lives of the eight of us to save one guy?
Sergeant Horvath: I don't know. Part of me thinks the kid's right. He asks what he's done to deserve this. He wants to stay here, fine. Let's leave him and go home. But then another part of me thinks, what if by some miracle we stay, then actually make it out of here. Someday we might look back on this and decide that saving Private Ryan was the one decent thing we were able to pull out of this whole godawful, shitty mess. Like you said, Captain, maybe we do that, we all earn the right to go home.
Captain Miller: He better be worth it. He better go home and cure a disease, or invent a longer-lasting light bulb.
Captain Miller: You see, when... when you end up killing one your men, you see, you tell yourself it happened so you could save the lives of two or three or ten others. Maybe a hundred others. Do you know how many men I've lost under my command?
Sergeant Horvath: How many?
Captain Miller: Ninety-four. But that means I've saved the lives of ten times that many, doesn't it? Maybe even 20, right? Twenty times as many? And that's how simple it is. That's how you... that's how you rationalize making the choice between the mission and the man.
Sergeant Horvath: How many?
Captain Miller: Ninety-four. But that means I've saved the lives of ten times that many, doesn't it? Maybe even 20, right? Twenty times as many? And that's how simple it is. That's how you... that's how you rationalize making the choice between the mission and the man.
Captain Miller: [weakly mutters something]
Private Ryan: [leans in closer] What, sir?
Captain Miller: James, earn this... earn it. [Captain Miller dies shortly after he says this]
Private Ryan: [leans in closer] What, sir?
Captain Miller: James, earn this... earn it. [Captain Miller dies shortly after he says this]
Old James Ryan: [addressing Capt. Miller's grave] My family is with me today. They wanted to come with me. To be honest with you, I wasn't sure how I'd feel coming back here. Every day I think about what you said to me that day on the bridge. I tried to live my life the best that I could. I hope that was enough. I hope that, at least in your eyes, I've earned what all of you have done for me.
Ryan's Wife: James?...
[looking at headstone]
Ryan's Wife: Captain John H Miller.
Old James Ryan: Tell me I have led a good life.
Ryan's Wife: What?
Old James Ryan: Tell me I'm a good man.
Ryan's Wife: You are.
Ryan's Wife: James?...
[looking at headstone]
Ryan's Wife: Captain John H Miller.
Old James Ryan: Tell me I have led a good life.
Ryan's Wife: What?
Old James Ryan: Tell me I'm a good man.
Ryan's Wife: You are.
In the chapter, two souls who already lived spend some time with a "not-yet," a soul who is soon to be born, on a journey to the Tree of Life that is guarded by the sword described in Bereishit 3:24.
The male character wants the not-yet to eat from the tree, while the female character does not. She says, "You actually, genuinely want him to be born and never die." When the male character (the not-yet's deceased grandfather) proceeds to scream at her saying, "WHY NOT? Why can't he have what we didn't have? Why should his children have to watch him die?" her response is, "Because that's what makes it matter."
It's a chilling image, one imagines taking place in a heavy rainstorm, at a tottering bridge, before the world is about to end. The scene is very powerful and dramatic.
The Torah lists the concern that a person might eat from the Tree of Life and live forever as one of the reasons for the expulsion from the garden (3:22-23), but it does not say why living forever would be a problem.
In fact, Radak points out that original command of 2:16 -17 included instructions that allowed people to partake of the Tree of Life: "You may eat from every tree except the Tree of Knowledge." Once they partook of the Tree of Knowledge, mortality was introduced – they were condemned to die one day. On account of this, they were expelled from the garden, lest they eat from the Tree of Life and extend their lives beyond their now-allotted years.
Radak feels God could not command them "Do not eat from the Tree of Life" because it had already been permitted to them. Furthermore, experience shows they don't do well with one commandment not to eat from a specific tree. Therefore they were taken out of the garden to avoid the problem altogether.
Ramban speaks in less cryptic terms when he says, "God wanted His punishment decree to be fulfilled with the death of man. Were he to eat from the Tree of Life, God's decree would have been thwarted, delayed, or he might even live forever." The problem with the Tree of Life, therefore, was that it would take away the punishment the humans were meant to get for eating of the Tree of Knowledge. (Chizkuni)
It does not seem that immortality in and of itself is a bad thing (assuming one doesn't fancy himself a god on account of it). But for Man who was punished for partaking of the Tree of Knowledge, living forever would remove the punishment, and the possibility it would bring for the soul to make amends. For Man who needs to achieve atonement or to receive forgiveness for an error, death brings about such atonement and forgiveness. For Man to bring a correction to the soul, such a correction could only come about when the body no longer stands as interference to the soul.
Death also brings closure to a life lived – sometimes well-lived, sometimes long, sometimes tragically short. Knowing of our own mortality, we set goals for the lives we live, and if we are lucky enough to apportion our time right and stay focused, we can spend a good portion of our lives working towards and achieving our goals. The knowledge that we have a finite amount of time makes our individual journeys on this earth matter, and makes our existence matter to those we touch in our lifetimes.
The mark of a life well-lived is being missed by those who survive us once we are gone. Were we to live forever, we would never be missed, and we would lose our relevance. We might even ask God to end our existence, as did many Biblical and Talmudical figures (Moshe, Eliyahu, Yonah, Choni Ha'Magel, to name a few, as well as the elders of Luz (Sotah 46b) )
May we merit to always live our lives noting the incredible gift of life we have been given. May we also find the resilience to make the most of our lives so that when our time on earth comes to an end, we need not look back with any regrets.
As the female character says to the not-yet born in "The World to Come," "The test comes later." And her male counterpart says, "Later. During every moment of every day of your life."
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