Does life begin a 40? Columbia University Professor Walter Plitkin emphatically answered
“yes” in his famous and often quoted 1932 bestseller “Life Begins at 40.” The Torah agrees.
Life does begin at 40 – though not in the same way that Professor Plitkin maintains it does.
40 is a richly symbolic number in the Torah, associated with the transformation and creation
of life.

The mystics explain why the number 40 was chosen by Judaism for this special symbolism.
There were four levels of creation, ten divine emanations in each. I readily admit to a very
limited understanding of the relevant Kabbalistic material. But then again, I am 37; and
Kabbalah, say many medieval authorities, should not be studied before the age of – you
guessed correctly – the age of 40.  Let us study a few examples of 40 in Judaism, and, more
importantly, develop the Torah’s idea that “life begins at 40” – not at age 40, but at 40
nonetheless.

The number 40 is ubiquitous in the Torah, and it consistently underscores themes of
transformation and renewal. Yom Kippur, for instance, is the 40th day of the repentance
period. The 40th day? How so? Like each of the festivals, Yom Kippur is a holiday with
history. In the Torah, we are told that Moses ascended Sinai to commune with God for 40
days, to receive the life - and world- transforming Torah. Moses, we know, returned to a
people worshipping a golden calf. The tablets were smashed, the 40 of transformation was
stymied. On Rosh Chodesh Elul, Moses climbed the mountain to convene with G-d again,
and Moses returned 40 days later – on the day that we observe as Yom Kippur, the 10th day
of Tishrei. Moses’ appearance with a second set of tablets signified that G-d had forgiven His
people, that the Jews’ repentance was accepted, that people would receive a new lease on
life.

A few more citations of 40 in Judaism should suffice to establish the fact of this number’s
significance. In the days of Noah, G-d decreed the destruction and rebirth of the world. The
storm lasted for 40 days. Many centuries later, standing at the threshold of a new national
existence, the nascent Jewish people prepared to cross the Jordan River and settle the
promised Land. But before doing so, Moses sent the meraglim, the spies, to scout out the
Land. Not surprisingly, as a prelude to a transformative event, the reconnaissance mission
was 40 days long. The spies, though, maligned the Land, caused panic among the people,
and G-d decreed that only a new generation, or put differently, only a renewed Am Yisrael
would enter the Land. For this transformation, 40 years of desert wandering – one year for
each day of the spies’ mission – was necessary. 40 is required to usher in a new reality; a
new world; a new life.

The Talmud (in Tractate Menachot) tells us that just as the Torah was given in 40 days, so
too is the soul imparted in the fetus after 40 days. That is, the fetus achieves in spiritual
stature, its neshama, it’s “life,” after 40 days. There are authorities who permit abortion,
under certain circumstances, before day 40; After all, only after 40 days does this bundle of
cells become a spiritually significant being.  Which brings me to a final example of 40: The
Mikvah, the ritual bath that must contain 40 seah of rainwater (a seah is a typical halachic
measurement that corresponds to approximately 5 gallons).  Owing to the remarkable
generosity of the Rennert family and to their renowned commitment to promoting this
Mitzvah, our community is now home to an exquisite Mikvah. The Mikvah offers an obvious
opportunity to educate about and promulgate the important Mitzvah of family purity. But
beyond this, the physical presence of this ritual bath will enable the Mikvah to whisper her
spiritual message to all of us throughout the year.

What is the meaning of this Mitzvah? What is the Mikvah’s religious purpose? We could
intuit, if we didn’t already know, that a ritual bath with 40 measures of water must be a place
of transformation and rebirth. This is indeed the case. After all, who goes to a Mikvah? In
Temple times, Mikvah immersion was an integral part of regaining ritual purity; especially
important for Kohanim, but also, at times, vital for all Jews. Restored purity conferred new
status on the individual; he was spiritually refreshed, reborn. Nowadays, the Mikvah is only
halakhically required for converts and married women.  When a gentile converts, he or she
takes on a new religious identity. A convert, say the Sages, is like a newborn child. What
about a woman, whose visits are coordinated with her monthly cycle? Quite simply, a woman’
s physical change at that time of the month indicates that her body’s preparation to create
life was not actualized. The ritual impurity that results reflects the Torah’s recognition of this
loss of potential life. The Mikvah’s 40 seah of water soothe and restore; they help a woman
become sensitive to the potent, spiritual force inherent in her body’s ability to create life.
Hasidic men, unwilling to cede the Mikvah experience entirely to women, immerse every erev
Shabbat, to elevate themselves in preparation for the holy day. Ashkenazic men typically limit
their Mikvah use to the days immediately prior to Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. In tandem
with repentance, the Mikvah helps us refashion our inner selves.

In every instance that the Mikvah is used, transformation and rebirth is what is desired.
According to many Kabbalistic sources, the Mikvah is likened to a womb; you enter to be
reborn.  Hasidic masters (e.g. the Avnei Nezer) note that human beings are creatures of dry
land. We cannot survive submerged under water. Accordingly, when we immerse ourselves
in the Mikvah, we temporarily remove ourselves from a livable environment. When we
emerge from the Mikvah waters, we can breathe again; we are restored, renewed, reborn.
The Mikvah powerfully pronounces that personal spiritual renaissance is possible. Our
synagogue recently celebrated its 50th anniversary, but our Mikvah will ensure that our
community remains forever 40.

An adapted excerpt from Rabbi Yaakov Kermaier’s Kol Nidre 5768 address.
Life Begins at 40
by Rabbi Yaakov Kermaier