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.
Embracing Death
Elizabeth Kubler Ross—whom I’ve come to know through my friendship with one of her original professional partners, David Kessler—identified stages of dying and mourning: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. She suggested that both the dying and the mourners pass through the stages on their partially parallel but distinct journeys.
In the beginning, we are filled with thoughts like: “This can’t be!” “Not me.” “Not my loved one!” The immensity of the inevitable is so grave that we can’t comprehend carrying its weight.
Next, we’re angry: at God, at the doctor, at the dying, at ourselves. How dare they give us this news?! What could I have done to deserve this? Sometimes, we even lash out in our anger as we seek to place blame somewhere. At times, and obviously, it’s even justified. But often, it’s our own resistance to facing the inevitable. In the Jewish tradition we say: Baruch Dayan Ha-emet—blessed is the true judgement—as a way of accepting events and recognizing that it is not productive to be angry over what we can’t change.
What if I…? We imagine a different, if fantasized, outcome of how we might manipulate things so events transpire differently. We might grasp at long-shot cures, we might pretend that if we ignore it, the illness will disappear on its own. We might even make a deal with God. These are expressions of hope and the powerful wish that we could alter reality’s trajectory.
Next is sorrow. Why me? How could it be? What have I done to deserve this? We turn inward and our spirits are shattered. Kubler Ross’s insight is that profound sadness in the face of old age or grave illness (or both) are natural responses. Profound sadness, barring clinical diagnoses of depression, is best not masked by pharmaceuticals or denial. Tears, embraces, expressions of sorrow are authentic and necessary responses.
Finally, we strive for acceptance. Events will move inexorably towards the inevitable conclusion. Death for the dying, living without a loved one for those who accompany the dying. Accepting death allows the dying to focus on getting their affairs in order to the best extent possible. Acceptance of a death allows the living to craft the memories and hold on to the love that will forever be intertwined with their lives.
It is important to know that though they are called stages, we don’t necessarily proceed neatly or in the indicated order. But recognizing that all these emotions are possible likely can help us find comfort in the paths our lives are taking and even in loss, and ultimately find shalom (peace) and shalem (wholeness).
–Rabbi Ron Stern