As the impact of our region’s most recent fire disaster continues to be assessed, so many are reeling from the devastating loss of property and cherished possessions, remember that your Wise community stands together to offer you sustained spiritual and emotional support. In the months ahead, we will turn our eyes to the brilliant blue skies of the Southland and rebuild our community together, however, in times of loss and acute danger we can allow ourselves to experience the raw emotions that may surface. Sometimes, it’s when we are feeling most vulnerable that we can grow the most. It is in that spirit that we share this week’s deeply personal Kavanot by Rabbi Stern.
Introduction
As you may know, I lost my dad on December 31st. He suffered a long illness and a very difficult decline, so his end, though filled with sadness, came as a blessing. We can now turn from fretting about his care to remembering the good he gave us in life. Losing a parent marks an important life transition and compels one to confront mortality and generational transition. As a clergy person and one frequently involved with families when they experience their own losses, we are presented with a unique perspective on this inevitable phase of life. For the next four days I’d like to share a few insights surrounding death and loss—personal and professional—gleaned from a lifetime of experience. While you might be tempted to skip this week because of the topic and the current tragedy of our latest firestorm, I encourage you to resist that inclination and open yourself to reflecting on the issues raised. Contemplation of human mortality can actually help us live our lives better and more deeply. Should you wish to discuss this at greater depth, our doors are open.
I explored related topics in a broader way in my 5785 Yom Kippur sermon. You can watch it here.
Anticipating Death
As clergy, we see death both from 10,000 feet as well as intimately when we hold hands with families at their time of loss. We sit with them as a loved one dies or through their grief and are given the incredible opportunity to learn by observing. I’ve come to understand that there is no one correct way to deal with impending death and the realization of its finality. Below are some insights I’ve gained that help to make the end-of-life transition meaningful and deeply loving.
Acknowledge mortality—both your own and that of others. Listen to others as they talk about loss. Be present to comfort them and allow them to share their stories. Learn from their experience. Take some time to consider your own end-of-life wishes and discuss them with your loved ones. Listen to what they need, share what you think you’ll need. Consider a living will or another way of communicating your final thoughts to your family.
What constitutes quality of life for you? It is possible for medical professionals to delay death for a very long time. Doctors have the skills to treat symptoms in ways that can keep a body alive, but the quality of that life can be severely degraded. There are some who say, “preserve my life at all costs” and others who believe that a quicker end is desirable. I encourage you to consider your own wishes combined with the impact your decisions might have on those you love.
Embrace the process. In a world where we talk about “beating” an illness or “cheating” death, we tend to deny the inevitable reality that looms before all of us. I’ve always avoided the word “passing” to describe dying because it euphemistically attempts to soften the truth. We don’t passively die—it is the act of our bodies shutting down. As we ail, the signs become more evident; recognizing them for what they are provides an opportunity to take personal agency for what remains of our life. This week’s Torah portion provides a moving portrayal of Jacob recognizing his death is near. He summons his adult children close and offers his final blessing. While we all may not leave this world so gently, acting intentionally as our lives diminish can allow us to leave an enduring and loving legacy for our loved ones.
–Rabbi Ron Stern