"But your blood which belongs to your souls, I will
demand!" (Genesis 9:5) - "I will demand your blood from one who spills his own blood!" (Rashi, based on Sanhedrin 59a)
"Only guard
yourself and greatly guard your life." (Deuteronomy 4:9) - You have a responsibility to preserve your life, for all creation has a claim to
your beneficent activity, including "every human being whom you can serve, every animal that you have and can preserve, every tree which you
can guard, and every earthly creature to which you belong." ("Horeb" by Rabbi S. R. Hirsch, chap. 62).
Each soul has a unique journey on
this earth, and each journey has its own unique challenges. As we hope to explore in a future letter, these challenges are directly related to
the special mission of each soul. The challenges that we face on our journey therefore have a specific purpose, and though these challenges can
be very difficult and painful, we are not allowed to bring our journey to a premature end. In this spirit, our Creator proclaims: "Choose
Life!" (Deuteronomy 30:19). We must therefore encourage each other to choose life, even during the most difficult challenges. As Rabbi Samson
Raphael Hirsch writes: "Life is not won without serious efforts, without thought and will; not by chance is life won. You must choose life if
you wish to "live" (Commentary on Deut. 30:19). This ancient Jewish view later served as a moral pillar for much of western civilization;
however, this view is no longer "politically correct" in some circles. For example, in Holland, it is now legal to assist a person, even a
16-year old, to commit suicide.
Jewish tradition recognizes that suicide can result from a severe emotional or mental illness which can
cause a person to act in an irrational manner; yet, Jewish tradition also recognizes that suicide can be the conscious choice of a rational
person who mistakenly concludes that his life no longer has meaning. In fact, the values and beliefs of one's society can have a major
influence on such a decision. For example, in a society where honor is the highest value, a person who loses face may feel that his only choice
is to commit suicide. In a society which considers money to be the highest value, a person who did not succeed in becoming wealthy may conclude
that he is a failure and commit suicide.
Even a person with idealistic and altruistic values can mistakenly conclude that his own life no
longer has value or meaning. Rabbi Hirsch, in his explanation of the mitzva to preserve one's life, writes that the Torah is conveying the
following message to such a person:
"You might say, 'Good! So I shall do right towards every being around me. I shall not impair
anything, from human being to worm, from the earth to the garment, and not interfere with the means of existence belonging to any creature; and
none will make an accusation against me before God's Throne. For the world and all that is in it does not belong to me; it is entirely God's
holy possession. But I myself - my body and its powers - they are really mine, and I may act with them according to my own arbitrary will...I
may spend my life's strength as I please or destroy it altogether. And if I did so, against whom would I then sin?' Behold, here God's
teaching comes to you, especially in the word which has been orally transmitted, and says: No human being has the right to injure himself, to
ruin himself, to murder himself. Everyone bears the duty to preserve himself physically. He may not weaken himself, for he knows not how his
world will stand in need of him; and if human judges do not judge such cases of self-destruction, nevertheless, God judges! (Horeb, chap.
62)
Rabbi Hirsch adds that we do not have the right to leave this world before God summons us. And if a person is contemplating such
action, God says, "You have no more right upon your life, upon your own body, than you have upon your brother's. You are destroying God's
temple, you are exterminating God's creature!" (ibid). For each human being on earth belongs to the Creator, as it is written, "To the
Compassionate One belongs the earth and its fullness, the inhabited land and those who dwell in it" (Psalm 24:1).
A friend of mine told
me the following story: A number of years ago, when he was at the height of his professional career, he came down with a rare illness that
forced him to leave his work. The illness was quite severe, and it was difficult for him to even think or read. He felt like a vegetable, and
he felt that his life had lost its purpose. As the illness dragged on, he seriously gave thought to the idea of suicide. My friend also told me
the reasons why he chose to live. Although he did not grow up in a traditional Jewish home, he began to explore his Jewish spiritual roots as
an adult; thus, he became aware that the Torah prohibits suicide. He also realized that the decision to take one's life is not a decision that
one can later reverse; moreover, he recalled how his Torah teachers stressed the idea that where there is life there is hope. In addition, his
Jewish values made him realize that he had no right to cause those who loved him the grief and pain they would suffer if he took his own life.
He described a dream that he had on the night of Purim, a joyous Jewish holiday. He was unable to enjoy the holiday, for the illness was
still severe, and he had reached the depth of despair. He fell asleep, and in his dream he saw the trunk of a tree standing by a river. The
tree had been cut down, and all that remained was this trunk. As he got closer to the trunk, he noticed that a new branch was sprouting out of
its side. He then realized that the trunk was him, and that the new branch was a sign that new life would emerge from him. His dream came true.
He experienced a partial recovery, and he decided to resume his study of Torah, which he viewed as a process of inner renewal and purification.
He now teaches Torah to spiritually-searching Jews, as well as to Gentiles who are exploring Judaism. He feels that new life has sprouted from
the trunk that he saw in his dream, and the following words from one of our daily psalms has great meaning for him:
"You have transformed
for me my lament into dancing; You undid my sackcloth and girded me with gladness - so that my soul might sing to You and not be stilled.
Hashem, my God, forever will I thank you!" (Psalm 30:13)
Shalom,
Yosef Ben Shlomo Hakohen (See below)
Postscript: There is a
teaching by a leading sage of the previous generation, Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik of Boston, which can help us to understand how to relate to
our suffering: It is not our primary task to figure out why we suffer. Our primary task is to figure out what we can do or how we can grow as a
result of this suffering.
