The blog has been rather unactive of late. The combination of my illness and responsibilities and Helaine's responsibilities and concern gave us little time to do anything with this. But now here we are. All of us, grappling with the grief and sadness we feel. We've had two members lose spouses in a short time. I am beside myself, wanting to help, but not knowing how. As I often do when I'm floudering, I turn to the Rabbi Harold Kushner for guidance. I found a piece written by him and an interview that I'm going to post here because I hope it serves as some kind of help to anyone who reads it. I am still floundering, not knowing how to help, because I'm so far away, and because I very much want to be able to make sure that people aren't in pain. But alas, we do not get a life guaranteed to be pain free. And part of the job that pain does is to help us to see how good the good times are and were. But my heart is still heavy this morning.
(LINK:
http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/kushner_3610.htm )
"Through the Valley of the Shadow "When you get to be my age, one of the things that we ask of our religious faith is that it help us cope with our coming to terms with mortality, with the realization that no matter how nice a person we are, we are not going to live forever.
How does religion do that? It does it by understanding that it is not really death we are afraid of. The author of the 23rd Psalm understood our souls when he wrote that unforgettable line, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death....."
It is not the idea that we are going to die one day that scares us. It is the anticipation, the sense that our time is limited. It is the shadow that falls over our lives because we have the knowledge that no other living creature has, the knowledge that one day we will no longer be here. The good news is that people, I have discovered, are not really afraid of dying.
The British writer Chesterton once wrote a wonderful line. He said, "There are people who pray for eternal life and don't know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday." We don't want to live forever. We want to live just long enough to have made a difference to the world. What we fear is not mortality, not death. We are afraid that we will come to the end of our lives without having had that impact on the world we once dreamed of.
How do we cope with that fear, that shadow that death casts over our years as we advance? How does religious faith help us cope with the sense we may not be around long enough? First of all, it does it by showing us how we can live so that our lives will not be meaningless, so that we will leave our permanent impression on the world.
I don't know what happens when we die. Well, some things I know. I know that when I die, my physical body will be buried, will return to the earth as once it was. But I also know that there is a part of me (I'm comfortable calling it my soul; other people, if they are not comfortable with that word, might call it personality), everything about me which is not physical -- my memories, my values, my sense of humor, my identity -- that cannot die because it is not physical. Death has no dominion over them. That much I totally believe and understand.
What I can't understand is what it feels like for a soul to exist without a body to incarnate it. Will I still know that I am me? Will my disembodied soul be able to recognize other disembodied souls of people I have known and loved? If I don't have eyes and optic nerves, will I be able to feel happy to see them? I don't understand the question let alone the answer. When I worry about the fact that my time is limited, I don't look for answers there. I look for answers elsewhere.
The good news is to know you have made an impact on the world. You don't have to do one great deed -- write a wonderful book, find the cure for some disease -- you change the world with little deeds done regularly.
You remember the story from the Bible that, right after God led the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery, He determined to work a miracle for them so spectacular that no one who saw it would ever doubt His power or His providence again. Do you remember what He did? He split the Red Sea, led the Israelites across on dry land, and brought the waters back to cover the pursuers. It worked, blew everybody away. Everybody who was there said, "Wow, the Lord will be my God forever."
You read on in the next chapter of the Book of Exodus and you find that three days later these same people who were at the Red Sea are complaining about the itinerary; they are complaining about the cuisine and the accommodations. Nothing is good enough for them. What we learn is that the word "forever" is a technical term meaning 48 hours. Somebody promises to be grateful forever. You can hold them to it for 48 hours and after that it is a lost cause.
God realizes you cannot nourish people tomorrow on the basis of yesterday's miracle. Yesterday's miracle, no matter how wondrous it was, grows stale. So God changes his tactics and, instead of one spectacular miracle once in a generation, God gives the Israelites the manna. Food grows outside their tent over night and in the morning they just go out, gather it up, bring it in. You can feed your family. Not as spectacular as splitting the Red Sea but, because it happened every day in its own small way, it changed the way people saw the world.
This is what we can do. We don't have to come up with one great deed. You make the world a different place by doing nice things regularly. If you want to feel good about your life, here is a very specific, simple prescription. Three times a week go out of your way to do something nice for somebody. That is all it takes. You will be astonished how quickly you start feeling different about yourself.
Do you know why this works? Very simple. I believe this is the cornerstone of my entire faith. Just as our bodies are made so that certain kinds of diets and activities are healthy for us and other kinds are toxic, I am convinced our souls are made so that certain kinds of activities make us healthy. Certain other kinds are toxic for us.
Haven't you had the experience of going out of your way to do something nice for somebody and you feel so good; you feel light; you feel cheerful; you feel healthy. You have discovered this is the way human beings are supposed to live. We are made in such a way that cheerfulness, honesty and generosity are literally healthy for us. Lying, selfishness, envy are literally toxic. You poison yourself when you live that way. That is why the message of all religious faiths boils down to one form or another of reaching out to other people in honesty, in generosity and in helpfulness.
Some years ago, they did a study in North Carolina at the Duke University Medical Center of Type A personalities. You know people like that. They are always hard driving, always in a rush, need to get things done, dictate letters while shaving in the morning, while watching the morning news, honk in the car behind you as soon as the light turns green.
Their theory was that these people are going to make themselves sick because they are so intense. They rounded up a couple of hundred Type A personalities. They studied them and found out that some were sick and others were perfectly healthy. This seems to be the key. If you are a hard-driving, ambitious, Type A because you enjoy the challenge of getting things done, because you find it satisfying to know that things are different because of your activity, you will be fine.
If you are hard driving and ambitious and always on the go because you are suspicious of everybody else, because you are convinced that the world is a jungle out there and if you don't get that person first, he is going to get you, that is the kind of person who gets sick. Human beings were not meant to live that way. We were meant to be cooperative, to be open and sharing and honest with each other.
Yet there is so much in the modern world that erodes that tendency to be honest and sharing, so much that teaches us to see the other person as a rival, as a competitor, as somebody who wants to cheat us. No wonder we are sick and no wonder we go around thinking that our lives are meaningless and pointless and futile, because it is simply not the way human beings were meant to live.
God put us on this earth to share with each other, to encourage each other, to dry the tears and hold the hands of people we know who need that kind of encouragement and to let them do it for us when we need it. That is how you make the world different. Just as in the world of physics, there is the principle of the conservation of matter. Nothing disappears, it only changes its form. It is always there.
I am totally convinced that in the world of the spirit there is a similar principle of conservation. Nothing disappears. Every good deed you do somehow remains and leaves its mark upon the world.
I have come to believe heaven and hell are not places. They are moments in time. Hell is not fire and brimstone and flames. Hell is the understanding that if I was sarcastic to my daughter when she was a little girl, she will be sarcastic to my grandchildren and it will be my fault. Hell is the awareness that every time I tell a lie to get out of an embarrassing situation, I have voted to make this world a more deceitful place and I and my family have to live in this deceitful world.
Heaven is not bright sunshine and harps and white clouds. Heaven is the awareness that if I worked hard for something I believed in and I thought I was wasting my time and energy, I never waste my time and energy. Every good deed leaves its mark on the world. Everything we do, every time we take a stand for what is right, every time we go anonymously to help a neighbor and nobody thanks us and nobody applauds us for it, we have changed the world.
We can look back with satisfaction on the lives we have led. We can feel that we have cheated death. We have acquired immortality, even if we are not famous, even if our obituaries will not appear in the newspaper. We know we have permanently made the world a different place because several times a week we have gone out of our way to do something nice and nobody will ever forget it; because we have stood up for the things we believe in and voted to make the world that kind of place.
If we have done this regularly, constantly, frequently, we don't have to be afraid of the valley of the shadow. We don't have to be afraid that we will disappear like a rock falling into a pond making ripples for a moment and then leaving the water the way it was but the rock is no longer there. The world will be permanently reshaped for the better because we passed through it. We can look at the end of days and not be afraid for death will have no dominion.
Interview with Harold KushnerInterviewed by David HardinDavid Hardin: This thing about the after life -- which is, as you say, rather a vague thing -- God deliberately has not made it clear and He has suggested various versions of it in various faiths.
Harold Kushner: It is not just that he hasn't made it clear. Even if somebody could tell me what it was like, there is no way I could understand what it means to exist in terms other than physical. It would be like trying to explain to a fetus what it is like to walk around, breathe air, make your own decisions. It is a whole different realm of existence. We speculate about it and we always end up thinking of heaven very much like some kind of tropical vacation spot, Club Med, or something in this world. We can't get it through our heads. It is a totally different kind of existence.
Hardin: There is lots of stuff being written about after-death experiences or near-death experiences. What is your assessment of all of that?
Kushner: Ten years ago I would have been very skeptical. As I get older, I become much less skeptical and much more open minded. What strikes me, David, is that these near-death experiences are all so similar, I am prepared to posit there may be something to them. The idea of going through a tunnel-like experience, seeing a light at the end, being welcomed by someone you had known and loved on earth, I can't imagine it happens exactly like that but I can believe there is something to that.
The message I get from it is not that this is what it feels like to die, but that death need not be frightening. This is the most important message that these experiences bring to me. We don't want to die. We don't want to cause grief to the people around us. We would like to be around long enough for the next wedding, the next graduation, the next grandchild, but you don't have to be afraid of death. It is not going to hurt. It is not fearful. It is not like all those medieval paintings of The Last Judgment. There is something very calm and welcoming about this moving on to the next step.
Hardin: And, we are in good hands.
Kushner: I think that is really the message.
Hardin: I thought it was interesting that you talked about, "Is the universe friendly?" That is such a separator of people. Wasn't that the question that Albert Einstein asked?
Kushner: Yes. There is an old rabbinic saying that I think is so wise. It says, "God is like a mirror. The mirror never changes, but everybody who looks at it sees a different face."
Some people will look at the world and see a friendly place and some will see a hostile place. It is the same world. One person will walk into a hospital and see a story of pain and outrage and the unfairness and the arbitrariness of life. Somebody else will go into that same hospital, walk down that same corridor and the message that person will get is that the hospital is a place where courage and love and healing happens. Same fact, different interpretations.
Hardin: Maybe the same person at different times. I know that there are times when I really am there to take it in as a fascinating place, an interesting experience full of remarkably gifted people. There are times when I am in a hurry and I wish I wasn't waiting. It is my own inner-impatience that so often does in the more positive things than I can really experience.
Kushner: Yes, but it is the same world. You make a very important point that what we bring to it is going to color the way we see the world. We are not the same person every single time and we can't expect ourselves to be.
Hardin: I wanted to ask you -- because the title fascinates me and I have not read this one of yours -- about When All You've Wanted Isn't Enough. What do you say in that?
Kushner: It is an extended commentary on the strangest biblical book I have ever studied, the Book of Ecclesiastes. It is all the way tucked at the end of the Hebrew Bible. Most people never get to it and if they get to it, they can't figure it out. I don't know how the book got there. Had I been on the committee, I would have voted against it. This is dangerous stuff.
Ecclesiastes is a book written by a middle-aged man contemplating his death, terribly frightened that even though he has been so successful, made so much money, done so much with his life, he will die and it will all disappear. He says, "What is the point of knocking yourself out if you can't take it with you, if it is all going to disappear when you die -- the fame, the learning, the wealth, the reputation, the pleasure -- if it won't survive you?"
He goes on for several chapters wondering what is the point of life with this almost sense of despair, very, very unbiblical. There is nothing like it in all scripture. At the end, the conclusion he comes to is that because life is short, that is what makes it precious. If we were going to live forever, we wouldn't have to clutch onto life the way we do. We wouldn't have to make so much of everything.
He has this magnificent passage which for me is the conclusion of the book although it doesn't come until the end. Scriptural authors have this funny habit of reaching the climax of their book about two-thirds of the way through and, if they have more space on the scroll, tossing a lot of stuff at the end that they just took out of their drawers.
The climax comes in Chapter 9 of the Book of Ecclesiastes. "Therefore go eat your bread in gladness and drink your wine in joy. Let your clothes always be fresh and your head never lack for oil. Enjoy life with the person you love, because that is all there is to life."
Because life is precarious. I think, for example, of autumn in New England where I live, where the trees explode in this foliage of bright yellows and reds and you know they are so beautiful because they are dying. This is the way trees die and you know that if you are busy at the office and you don't get out to see them this week, it is going to rain on Sunday and when you go out next week, they will all be gone. You have to go out and cherish that moment. Friendships are precious because life is so vulnerable. Beauty is special because it doesn't last.
Hardin: In Ecclesiastes you say that this fellow realizes that it is short and he has to enjoy it. As you say, a lot of people can't take it in now because they are so worried about the future. One of the things that I have seen is that you can't take it with you, but you can leave it to your children. My experience has been that that is not a very healthy idea a lot of the time. We are afraid to trust them to the world. We can't protect them. So many of the wealthy children that I happened to have run across in my life were made terribly unhappy by their inheritance.
Kushner: I think we all know examples like that. It is a very common tendency in American life that children from very wealthy families either go into public service -- the Rockefellers, the Harrimans, the Bushs, the Kennedys -- or else become playboys and wastrels and end up either on the society pages or on the police blotter.
I gave a sermon once on King David's last testament to his son, Solomon, as he is dying, that the most precious thing he left Solomon was not an empire and not a throne and not a fortune. The most precious thing he left him was an unfinished agenda. We have to give our kids things to do, things we would have wanted to do and never got around to and couldn't, so that they can feel that they are achieving something on their own.
Hardin: I think that is magnificent and I think we need to take that in. You are a Type A.
Kushner: Very much so. The secret of my success.
Hardin: You get a lot done. The shadow side of being a Type A, and I'm one, too, is what? What is the problem with being a Type A?
Kushner: You are always leaving people behind. You can never stop to savor what you are doing because you are trying to see what is next on your check-off list.
You remember that wonderful passage in Jung that Act I of a man's life is going out to conquer the world. Act II of that same man's life is realizing that the world is not going to be conquered by the likes of you, so slow down, go back and fill in all the spaces you left blank when you were in a hurry to get some place. I have tried to do that as I matured into my fifties. Less of a striver and more of a mentor.
Hardin: Speaking of mentors, who are some of the mentors in your life or people that you have modeled after? Are there some?
Kushner: The most influential ones probably your viewers have never heard of. The Rabbi of my boyhood in Brooklyn, Israel Leventhal. My teacher at seminary, Mordecai Kaplan, and I guess the figure of Sigmund Freud over them all, in his struggle to understand what makes a human soul tick and do something helpful about it.
Hardin: Are there some current writers that you enjoy?
Kushner: Oh, I pick up all sorts of stray books. I don't read a whole lot of fiction. I read sociology and psychology. Anything that Erik Erikson writes I will rush out to buy.
Hardin: He is a wonderful man. Thank you very much, Harold, for being here. It's been a great program.
Kushner: David, it is always a pleasure to talk to you.
