The last blog post I published was about balance. I am still working on achieving it. That may be why I haven’t written much lately. Topics I considered but didn’t make it to paper include: France and Nigeria. Martin Luther King Day and the role of Jews in Civil Rights. Inflategate and Cheating. Healing and Curing. Birthdays. I’ll get there.
I am going to start with Healing and Curing.
The rabbis of the Talmud had it right, 2000 years ago, they understood that if even one of our arteries or values were blocked we could not praise G-d’s name.
“Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, Who formed us with wisdom and created within us many openings and many hollows. It is obvious and known before Your Throne of Glory that if even one of them ruptures, or if even one of them becomes blocked, it would be impossible to survive and to stand before You (even for a short period). Blessed are You, Lord, Who heals all flesh and acts wondrously.”
Some people chuckle at this prayer because it is also known as the bathroom prayer. However, it is included in many morning services as a prayer for healing. One person once told me that there are no prayers in Judaism for going to the bathroom, since that is not “holy.” However, if you go into any traditional Jewish day school you will find this prayer posted right outside the bathroom.
I find it a profound prayer.
When my mother was sick I had the feeling that anyone of the numerous specialists: cardiologist, pulmonologist, endocrinologist, dermatologist, (they all end is ist, including the hospitalist!) could have kept any one of her organs going indefinitely.
But the rabbis were right, the body is a finely balanced network and the physicians couldn’t keep all of it going together at the same time. For my mother, who struggled with lung issues as long as I can remember (DON’T SMOKE!), the ultimate issue seemed to be a balance between kidney function and liver function. And then there was a heart attack. Her body was shutting down.
At some point it became clear to us that we could not cure her. Nothing medicine could offer would restore her quality of life. She would never go back to her apartment with all of her books, her collections, her holiday decorations. She wasn’t going to be able to work at Borders or serve on the many boards she was still on. She wouldn’t be able to drive to the grocery store or her doctors.
And yet, two rabbis and I stood at her bedside and sang the last verse of “Adon Olam,” with a lovely Debbie Friedman melody which reminds me of a lullaby. The English is:
“Into G-d’s hand I commit my spirit, my breath
When I sleep and when I wake
And with my spirit, my body
The Lord is with me, and I will not fear.”
You might ask, why was this important when my mother, while always active in the Jewish community, was never sure about the Lord being with her. Since then I have stood at many bedsides. I wrestle with the same question. What difference does this prayer make? What difference does any prayer make—we can’t possibly cure people with prayer. Or can we?
I grew up in a medically savvy household. My father was a medical school professor with a specialty in genetics and cell biology. He was the leading expert in the olfactory of the crab’s nose. My mother was a medical researcher with major credits including Metformin, the drug used to treat diabetes and Ensure. Science ruled the house. If it wasn’t able to be seen through a microscope, it wasn’t real. Bedside manner didn’t matter so much.
But there is good research now that prayer, meditation, yoga, can reduce stress and increase healing. I am not going to provide a full bibliography here, but one interesting study was at Brandeis (a school my parents respected), http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/06/090617154401.htm
Apparently some of what is important is in knowing that others care about you, that you have a community surrounding you. It makes you less isolated, less alone. It is a burden that is shared. Some of it is in believing that there is something beyond yourself. Some of it is in slowing down, acknowledging the fears and reducing stress. Reducing stress is always a good thing. Prayer can do all of those things.
Recently I hosted a mincha havdalah service late on a Shabbat winter afternoon, specifically to talk about healing. While preparing for it, I realized that almost every major Jewish federation now has a pamphlet, booklet, link something to hand to Jewish patients who are wrestling with some of these same issues. Amongst my favorite compilations came from Chicago’s Jewish Child and Family Services, http://www.jcfs.org/sites/default/files/uploads/documents/JHNC%20Jewish%20Prayers%20%20Reflections%20on%20Healing1.08.pdf Chicago has a Jewish Healing Network, also run by JCFS, specifically Rabbi Joe Osarowski, who has done some training of Congregation Kneseth Israel’s own Bikkur Holim committee.
We’ve come a long way as a Jewish community. We can pray for healing, as individuals and as a community.
Jews have understood the positive connection between mind, body and spirit. We see it in the traditional misheberach and in the version by Debbie Friedman. “The renewal of body, the renewal of spirit.” That’s what we pray for. Not one or the other, but both.
Recently I stood at the foot of another patient in ICU, singing that same Adon Olam, softly, gently.The nurse and I watched as the blood pressure dropped to near normal levels. Can I cure that patient? No. I went to rabbinical school, not to medical school. But I can provide a calming presence and that alone can be healing.
One of my favorite Psalms appears in lots of these guides to healing. Psalm 121 says
I lift up my eyes to the mountains, from where comes my help? My help comes from the Lord….
God will not let your foot slip. (So important when I am mountain climbing, again it is about balance)
God will watch over you, guard you. God will not slumber.
God will not slumber nor sleep.
God will watch over your coming and your going, now and forevermore.
I link this to Adon Olam.
Into Your hand, I commit my soul. While I am awake and while I sleep. I will not fear.