How many of you have seen the animated movie, “Inside
Out?” It is the story of the emotional
development of a young girl going from easy going childhood into her teen
years. As a child, joy is her major
emotion. On occasion anger takes control
of her, but it is joy that seems to be in charge of her reactions to life. That is the case until her parents decide to
move her across the country away from the life she has known and the people
with whom she has been the most comfortable.
At that point, her parents are very concerned about her state of
despondency. They are afraid she will
never experience joy again and that her sense of gloom will override all
else. The control center in her brain tries
to have the young girl focus on pleasant memories and the love she has
experienced in the past with the hopes that such memories will dispel her
sadness and renew her sense of purpose and joy in life. It is only by
experiencing a sense of loss in her life is she able to fully appreciate the
joys she has experienced as well.
When you think about this movie, it is actually very Jewish
in nature. Judaism does not pretend that
life is all misery nor does it pretend that life is all joyous. It recognizes that there are periods of joy
and periods of sadness in life. The
periods of sadness, however, are not permanent and help one be grateful for the
periods of joy.
Tonight we will be entering into the observance of Tisha
B’Av. On the calendar, Tisha B’Av
actually falls on Friday night, Saturday, but since it is a fast day and a day
of national mourning, it is not observed on Shabbat. The only fast day observed on Shabbat is Yom
Kippur, but that is because it is not a day of mourning. Tisha B’Av is a reminder that there are
periods of great joy for us as a people but also periods of great sadness.
In our day and age, it is hard to fathom what the Temple
stood for and why mourning occurs for its destruction. The purpose of the Temple that stood in
Jerusalem was to unify humanity, to provide a place where all people could
gather to pay tribute to the oneness of G-d.
It was a place of gathering, celebration, and holiness. When it was destroyed on Tisha b’Av, it left
a gaping hole in the soul of the Jewish world.
For those who were carried off into captivity while watching the Temple
ruins burning, they might have had a sense that the joys of life would never
occur again. But, we have records in the
Mishnah, which was composed after the
destruction of the 2nd Temple by the Romans, of a story written
about the famous Rabbi Akiva who witnessed the burning of the Temple from a
look out spot around Jerusalem, probably Mt. Scopus. He saw the present tragedy in his midst and did
not deny it. Yet, he laughed when he saw
a fox running away from the Temple site.
Akiva’s compatriots were stunned by his reaction. How could he laugh while experiencing the sight
of the holy Temple being consumed by flames.
Instead of being overwhelmed by the negative sight, Akiva was able to
find purpose in it. He understood that
at the end of the suffering there would be the fulfillment of a promise of an
improved future for the entire Jewish people. As he watched, he saw the fox,
the symbol of Rome, fleeing from the Temple. He was able to sense that what he
saw was the beginning of a prophecy promising an eventual return to the land
and return to G-d.
When you think about Jewish history the 9th of Av
is replete with great sadness. That day saw many events in history: the destruction of the first Temple in 587
b.c.e. and 70 ce., the expulsion from England in 1290 and from Spain in 1492,
and the deportations from the Warsaw Ghetto in 1942. Yet, none of those events led to the demise
of Judaism or the Jewish people. Even at
the worst of times a sense of hope remained that there would be an in-gathering
of our people back to Zion. There has
always been a sense that one day the young children and old men and women would
gather in the streets of Jerusalem in joy.
If only the prophets could have lived to see the words of hope that they
preached fulfilled in our day!
There is a saying in the Psalms, that “those who sow in
tears, will reap in joy!” I see this as
meaning that the everyday challenges we face, whether it be in our families or
at work, will eventually lead to joy. The challenges we face as a society
should not lead us to think that all is doom and gloom. As Jews we believe that by striving to
improve life in this world in which we live we will eventually lead humanity to
experience better times.
Perhaps as Jews we have the advantage of seeing that life is
not all about sweetness and ease nor all about pain and suffering. Life is a mixture. If it were not for the hard times, perhaps we
would not have as much appreciation for the good times when they do occur. So much in our Jewish traditions is designed
to lead us to this understanding. At the
end of a joyous wedding celebration, we still shatter a glass. In the midst of our greatest sadness at the
time of a death of a loved one if we take time to sit shiva, we allow others to
surround us while we grieve making it possible to sense their support and feel
the comfort that they can provide us. On
Pesach we celebrate our redemption from slavery. On the eve before Yom HaAtzmaut we observe
Yom HaZikaron to remember all those who have fallen in battle to protect the
existence of the State of Israel. The
list goes on and on, because there is a conscious effort to infuse our actions
with the unspoken message that although life is a mixture of joy and sadness,
hope should never be lost.
I would imagine that is the same message inherent in the
work of being a physician. The work is not all about sweetness and pleasure,
nor all about hardship and worries. Even
though physicians deal with many challenging health issues of their patients,
they continue to strive to bring comfort and healing to the ill. Mike Eppel you have done exactly that for your patients over the years. You have given
hope to those facing life threatening conditions, reassurance to those worried
about their well-being, and a sense that caring can come from someone other
than a family member. It is not only your intellect, diagnostic skills, and
steady hands that have been impressive, it is also your deep concern for your patients and your willingness to approach them as human beings not just a name
on an appointment book, that have made your name great in this community. Your smile and recognizable laugh are an important part of your therapeutic
temperament. The work you have done over
the years as a volunteer in Haiti has shown your desire to bring hope and
healing to those who faced the devastation of a natural disaster. I have heard many Tifereth Israel members
express gratitude that they’ve had you, Mike, as an advocate for their well-being
while they’ve been hospitalized.
Mike as you think back upon the career from which you’re now
retiring, I hope you do so with a sense of satisfaction. Obviously, retirement does not mean
disengagement. I know you will continue
to nurture your love of humanity, your love of learning, your love of seeing
new places and experiencing new cultures.
I hope that you will be able to enjoy the memories of long hours spent
helping people and know that you’ve fulfilled one of Judaism’s greatest
mitzvot, because to help heal others is considered to be G-dlike. Mazel Tov on
reaching this day. Let’s say
shehecheyanu for reaching this milestone in your life.
No comments:
Post a Comment