Chukat – Navigating Retirement with Courage

In memory of Sgt. Yisrael Natan Rosenfeld z”l, who fell at 20 defending Am Yisrael. May his memory be a blessing and a source of strength. As we mourn his loss and the ongoing tragedies caused by Hamas, we draw courage from his sacrifice.

As I join those who grieve, I also reflect on a personal transition—a journey that, while completely incomparable in scale and largely irrelevant when put anywhere near, may resonate with those facing unexpected change of the “retirement” type. Parshat Chukat teaches us that transitions, though painful, are opportunities to face challenges with courage and embrace new realities with hope.

Parshat Chukat and the missing 38 years

Parshat Chukat opens with the Parah Adumah – one of the commandments we are meant to perform even though we don’t understand it. This comes at the end of the first year and a bit after the Exodus—detailing the splitting of the sea, the giving of the Torah, the Mishkan’s construction, and the sin of the spies. Then immediately after this commandment, in Numbers 20:1, we leap to Year 40: “The entire congregation arrived at the Wilderness of Zin… and Miriam died there.” The narrative reignites with Miriam’s death, Aharon’s passing, Moshe’s striking of the rock, Bilaam, Pinchas, and the approach to the Promised Land.

But what of the 38 years in between? The Torah is nearly silent. Rashi (Numbers 20:1) notes that the generation of the spies gradually died out during this time, with Midrash Tanchuma (Chukat 10) suggesting minor events occurred but were not recorded. This silence is not an oversight—it’s a message. This seemingly strange ‘silent’ period, combined with the events of Moshe striking the rock and the deaths of Miriam and Aharon, underscores the painful but necessary transitions between generations. It mirrors the emotional and spiritual complexities of retirement—where leadership is passed on, roles shift, and new paths must be forged.

A sudden transition to retirement

Three months ago, I was diagnosed with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy (PSP), a rare, degenerative neurological condition affecting balance, movement, and many other facets of life. Overnight, at my doctor’s request to reduce stress and focus on the fight, I had to stop working, driving, and living the life I had built over decades. The shift, though positive healthwise, has been tough and it is still very much work in progress.

Tonight, at midnight, I retire as a Partner at PwC Israel—at 50—far earlier than I ever imagined. This is not the retirement I envisioned—not a gentle winding down, but a sudden, jarring halt. Yet, amidst this upheaval, I have found a strange kind of peace, alongside moments of frustration and challenge.

Parshat Chukat, with its silent years and quiet transformation, offers wisdom for this moment. Like the Israelites adjusting to a new reality in the desert, I now face a different journey—one demanding resilience, faith, courage, and the resolve to redefine purpose.

Retirement, for me, is not an end but a beginning—a time to contribute through writing, mentoring, spiritual growth, and being present for my family. This is the path I now walk, with hope, even when the road ahead is uncertain.

Parshat Chukat offers four lessons that resonate with my transition and provide guidance for anyone navigating change.

1. The Slow, Painful Process of Change

The Torah doesn’t sugarcoat the difficulty of change—it is tough. The Israelites’ 38-year journey was marked by loss: Miriam’s death left them without their well, and Moshe’s striking of the rock revealed his struggle to adapt (Numbers 20:2–11). Yet, they faced these challenges and prepared for the Promised Land. Rabbi Sacks taught: “The Torah shows us that change demands we confront challenges with courage, not just patience” (paraphrased from Covenant & Conversation, Chukat).

For me, adjusting to PSP means relearning how to live—physically and emotionally. Grieving the loss of routines or identity is natural, but the Torah urges us to confront pain directly and move forward. Retirement isn’t about mourning my career but embracing new ways to contribute, like writing or being present for family. For anyone facing change, the key is to confront challenges and embrace new possibilities with hope. This process is undeniably hard—for me, walking is a challenge, often requiring a walker—but acknowledging this difficulty is helping me to start moving forward.

2. Letting Go and Building Anew

The deaths of Miriam and Aharon, and Moshe’s divine decree, marked the end of their roles, yet their legacy endured—Miriam’s well was replaced, Aharon’s priesthood passed to Elazar, and Moshe continued teaching. The Israelites found purpose through the manna’s daily rhythm, which required effort and planning (Midrash Tanchuma, Beshalach 20). They possessed the ability to carry on and succeed in a new momentum and energy. Rabbi Sacks wrote: “Leadership means empowering others to carry forward, even as you step aside.”

Retirement means letting go of my role at PwC, but it’s also a chance to build anew—mentoring colleagues, supporting family, or creating new routines. The challenge lies not in the loss but in the opportunity to shape a new legacy with intention. I’m still navigating this process—it’s hard—but the Torah’s example of perseverance through pain inspires me to move forward.

3. Faith and Tradition as Anchors

The Parah Adumah, a Chok—a commandment without explanation—appears at this transitional moment, teaching us to trust G-d when answers are elusive. Alongside this, the Midrash highlights the continuity of the manna, mitzvot, the Mishkan, and G-d’s protection, sustaining the Israelites. Rav Soloveitchik taught: “Faith means acting with conviction, even when the future is uncertain, trusting G-d to guide us” (paraphrased from The Lonely Man of Faith).

For me, faith means trusting G-d’s plan despite PSP’s unknowns. Tradition—particularly Shabbat’s restful rhythm, prayer, Torah study—and new routines, like mentoring, chess, learning, as well of course the effort of managing a tighter budget and dealing with endless processes and paperwork, anchor my days. In retirement or any change, faith and ritual offer strength—not to dwell on uncertainty, but to move forward with confidence.

4. Finding Meaning in the Unexpected

The Israelites didn’t expect 40 years in the desert or the loss of their leaders, just as my retirement at 50, forced by illness, was unplanned. The Lubavitcher Rebbe taught: “The descent itself is part of the ascent” (attributed, based on teachings in Likutei Sichot).

Just as the desert forged a nation, my retirement offers a path to renewed purpose through family, community, and spiritual growth. For anyone facing unexpected change, the key is to confront challenges and seek opportunities within, ensuring the transition doesn’t define you.

Amidst the challenges of the change – the shock, the grief and the boredom – has come a renewal of meaning as I see beyond a life of work and travel and have time to focus on faith, meaning and family. I of course would never have chosen this – and still wouldn’t – but I trust in G-d and am finding meaning in the unexpected.

Conclusion: A New Kind of Leadership

I may no longer lead meetings or travel the world, but I remain committed to meaning and purpose—in my family, community, and spiritual life. Like Moshe, I’m preparing others for their “Promised Lands.”

The silence in Chukat wasn’t absence—it was transformation. My retirement, I hope, will not defined by loss but by the opportunity to build a meaningful future with optimism. Like the Children of Israel, who faced immense hurdles over 38 years yet emerged resilient, I strive to navigate this transition with perseverance.

The results were evident in the next portion: tasked with cursing the Jewish People, Bilaam could only bless them, seeing their goodness—“How goodly are your tents”—and linking them to their forefather Jacob, reflecting a smooth transition (Numbers 22–24). Though tested soon after, their transition succeeded. I hope for a similar outcome.

May the memory of Sgt. Yisrael Natan Rosenfeld z”l inspire us to live with courage, dignity, and faith. May we all face our transitions—personal and national—with a positive attitude, confronting challenges to embrace the new realities awaiting us.