Illness and Crisis - On a Massive and Individual Scale

The "Tochacha," the dire warning to the entire People of Israel, given by Moshe, that if they stray from observance of the Torah, calamities of all kinds would befall them, deals with "Onesh," "Punishment," delivered on a massive scale, so massive that complete blurring of the boundary  between the righteous and the wicked disappears, as the Holocaust of the last century illustrated.

The only appropriate response to that type of situation, or the only way to head off that type of large-scale punishment, would be "Teshuvah," Repentance," by the entire People, as was done by the Jews of Shushan and Persia in the time of Purim, that we recently re-visited.

But there are far smaller degrees of punishment and suffering, delivered to individuals and individual families, that may be delivered for different reasons, known only to the Ribbono shel Olam, the Master of the universe, and that may require different types of responses.  It is to this second category of suffering that a small booklet, by Rabbi Tsvi G. Schur, called "Illness and Crisis - Coping the Jewish Way," published by the NCSY Division of the OU, is addressed.

Rabbi Schur is a "pastoral counselor," which he defines as a clergyman who "brings into his profession first and foremost human understanding and caring, coupled with theology, and for the Jewish pastor, true Torah philosophy."  The word "pastor," Rabbi Schur notes, is the "Latinized form of the Hebrew word for shepherd."  His book condenses much insight into only 92 pages which, though short, is far more than can be written here, so this essay, essentially a summary of his work, can at best provide only a taste of Rabbi Schur's work.

Rabbi Schur distinguishes, with perhaps some analogy to the Haggadah's four sons, four types of patient.  They are the religious individual, the individual who proudly identifies with religion but is not observant, the agnostic "who is really not sure what life or belief is about," and the atheist of two varieties:  the "self-proclaimed atheist" and the "hysterical atheist," one "who has gone through suffering, denying G-d out of anger and bitterness;" the typical Holocaust survivor.

"The sincerely religious individual wants the opportunity to continue living.  Death, to him, means receiving his reward, but this individual wants to 'work' more, through heeding G-d's commandments, before he receives his final payment.  His entire life is entwined with deep love, respect and service of his Creator.  When death calls, it is accepted more easily.  The Chofetz Chaim is said to have taught, 'It has been observed that when we come into the world, we cry and the rest of the world laughs for joy.  We must so live that when we leave the world, we can laugh while the rest of the world weeps.' "

Regarding the second category, the non-observant Jew who nevertheless identifies with Judaism, Rabbi Schur writes, "When I, the chaplain, enter his room in a moment of crisis, he asks for prayer.  He may even cry, displaying a moment of fear, regret or, perhaps, guilt.  Though he may be non-observant, the flickering flame of his belief is still burning."

Regarding the third category, the agnostic, Rabbi Schur recalls a case, "Entering the room of a certain patient who was suffering from a terminal disease, I sensed his feeling of uncertainty regarding my visit.  The patient told me that he had no need for a chaplain.  I explained that, as          hospital chaplain, I visited all Jewish patients just to wish them well.  In further talk, he asked me what my Jewish philosophy was - Orthodox, Conservative, or Reform.  I replied that I was Jewish.  Detecting a smile, I told the patient that my visits are not intended to evoke a feeling of discomfort because of differences in religious philosophies."  Eventually, "He discussed his uncertainties concerning G-d with me, but felt with certainty that there was some master plan for man and the world.  When he asked, 'Why is there suffering?' I answered by recalling a moving story related by Chaim Potok in his novel, 'My Name is Asher Lev.'  A young artist was reflecting about his introduction to death…"

The story concerned the artist as a six-year-old, walking with his father in the city, and coming upon a dead bird.  The child asks, "Everything alive would one day be still as that bird?"

" 'Why?' I asked"

"That's the way the Ribbono shel Olam (G-d) made the world, Asher"

"Why?"

"So life would be precious, Asher.  Something that is yours forever is never precious."

I'm skipping a lot of Schur's text, but he returns to the patient, "When he was semi-comatose, I entered his room and told him that it was the rabbi coming to visit.  I asked him if he would like to say a prayer with me.  He nodded yes and together we recited the 'Shema Yisroel' (the affirmation of the belief in G-d).  Here was a patient who a few months before had been confused and full of questions.  He died with a sense of fulfillment and peace."

One of the types of atheist as mentioned above is what Schur calls the "hysterical atheist," who has gone through suffering, and denies G-d out of anger and bitterness.  Regarding this type, Schur  concludes, 'In the long run, our true comfort comes from our Creator…It becomes very dangerous to  ourselves when we attempt to bring G-d to our level of understanding…Although some consider  every atheist a heretic, perhaps even to the extreme that he should be ignored, we must realize that he is a human being, and our obligation must be to deal with and care for him in his time of  need…Some have observed that the most sorrowful moment for an atheist is when he wants to plead for something or give thanks but does not know how or to whom."

In a later paragraph, Rabbi Schur writes, "Tragically, we live in a society today that deals with machines, computers, rather than people.  We are forgetting to communicate, we are forgetting to reach out, we are forgetting to care, we are breaching the foundation of our Torah teachings - v'ahavta l'reacha kamocha - that one should love his friend as he does himself.  We are becoming sadly, unintentionally perhaps, self-centered, concerned only about ourselves, and we are forgetting that we are all in this world together as brothers and sisters, as children of a Supreme Being."

The author includes the following tribute:  "Let us appreciate all those who have dedicated their lives to the world of medicine, realizing that it is because of them, G-d's gift to us, that the majority of illnesses are cured and life is sustained."

And he concludes, quoting Dr. Viktor Frankl (no relation) " 'He who has a why to live for, can bear almost any how.'  I pray that all of us who have suffered through illness and crisis can find that 'why' and realize that the Jewish way of coping is the acceptance that in every facet of living, G-d TAKES, but G-d GIVES, BLESSED BE HIS NAME FOREVER AND EVER."

I'll conclude with two remarks.  First, in this type of situation, where the above essay consists of selected fragments from the work of another, it is clearly true that I've minimized his message.  I hope that I have not distorted it beyond recognition.  Second, I would like to point out that Parshat Bechukotai concludes the Book of priests, that could also be called the Book of Holiness with the Congregation and the Reader echoing each other with the call, "Chazak, Chazak V'nitchazek,"  "Be strong! Be strong!  Let us together be strong!"

Rabbi Pinchas Frankel

Rabbi Frankel is an Educational Coordinator at the OU