Sermons

Yom Kippur Sermon 2008/5769
Rabbi Marcia A. Zimmerman

It was Thanksgiving of 1982, when I received a call during my first year of rabbinic school. All the way in Israel I got a frantic call to tell me that my cousin Gary had died from suicide. In those days, you didn’t fly back so quickly and so I heard of my family’s ordeal over the phone. I heard how they waited at Thanksgiving dinner for my cousin to arrive, but instead came the horrific news of his death.

I grew up with my cousin Gary, just blocks down from my house. We did everything together with his sister Rona and my two sisters growing up. We knew that in his twenties something had changed. I never knew the diagnosis, but I knew and understood that he had a mental illness. And his struggle ended in suicide.

Tonight I break the silence because it is important for us to speak about mental illness. Twenty-three per cent of American adults are diagnosed with a mental illness. If you compute that for our congregation, 450 families annually struggle with mental health issues. And one out of seven in the American adult world, suffer from clinical depression. That is 840 members of Temple Israel.

This summer I took a sabbatical and studied psycho-pathology and human behavior. I learned a lot. I studied the DMS4 which is the Bible for any mental health professional. Every single diagnosis is in that little book, and you refer to it to find out the behavior of the individual who stands before you which determines how you can help. I learned a great deal. I learned how difficult it is to diagnosis. I found out how important it is to give the right diagnosis. And I gained a rachmanus, a certain intensity, and a deeper level of compassion for people struggling with mental illness. So this evening, on Kol Nidre, I chose to speak about this so that instead of building walls we will open our doors as a congregation.

There are three lessons that I want you to walk away from this sanctuary with tonight. One is that mental illness affects each and every one of us. No one is immune. Two, we, as a society and community, knowingly or unknowingly, perpetuate shame and isolation for families and individuals who are struggling with mental health issues. Number three, people with mental illness enrich our community. It is easy to say, but it is extremely important that we understand these things, so that we can open our doors.

This evening we said the alphabet of sins: Ashamnu, Bagadnu, Gazalnu, Debarnu Dofi. We understand that we go from A to Z this evening, and so I give you an alphabet of mental illness:

Anxiety

Borderline Personality

Bi-Polar

Chronic Mental Illness

Depression

Dementia

Eating Disorders

Feeding Disorders

Learning Disorders

Munchausen’s

Narcissism

Paranoia

Post-Traumatic Stress

Substance Abuse

Schizophrenia

Tourette Syndrome

An alphabet of woes. We all have some of these “illnesses.” We heard the list and, I’m sure, identified something that we knew. We’re all narcissistic at some level. We all think we’re right. We all think we’re the center. But it’s where you are on the spectrum. We all have depressive feelings in our lives, anxiety. We all have somatics, which is the physical manifestation of a psychological feeling. We’ve all gotten that knot in our stomach, and that headache. All of that is about mental health. But the awareness helps us to better understand that the difference between these unhealthy feelings and mental illness is only a matter of degree. We have to recognize when those depressive feelings become clinical depression, or when the anxiousness becomes a disorder. We have to be aware of the spectrum in order to know when we need to reach out for help, when it is time to turn to the medical profession, to our clergy, to our families for help.

Why do we need to turn to help? Because what do we know? We know that people who accept their diagnosis do far better than those who live in denial. Denial protects us, but it doesn’t help. We need to stop the denial, to not feel ashamed that we have something that we struggle with. We as a congregation need to open the doors so that people feel welcome.

Of course this leads me to my second point: knowingly and unknowingly we have sinned. We have not accepted people with mental illness the way that we should. There is a wonderful midrash in the Talmud. You see, even in the Talmudic times, they understood that that was a mental health issue, that people had depression. They didn’t call it that, but they understood it. In the Talmud, there’s this remarkable story about Jochana ben Zakki. He was a rabbi that everyone knows in the Talmud as the Great Healer: he comes and he heals people. He has these incredible hands that shine light because they have such healing power. Laying on hands is not a new idea, it is actually in the Talmud.

So Jochana ben Zakki walks into a darkened room to visit his friend Rabbi Eliezer, who lies in total darkness, sleeping in his bed. Jochana ben Zakki pulls up a chair next to the bed, and for a long time he sits in the dark next to his friend, and just sits in silence. And then he says, “Why are you crying? Why don’t you get out of bed? Is it because you haven’t studied enough Torah, because you’re not wealthy, because there’s something wrong in your life? We all have something in our life that isn’t perfect!” And then Rabbi Eliezer turns to him and says, “No, I’m not upset for all those things, it’s that my life is full of darkness, and that all beauty is for nothing.” And so Jochana ben Zakki looks at his friend and says, “For that, we can weep together.” And they cried together. And then Jochana ben Zakki says, “Can you let me help you?” and he answers, “I’ll try.” So Jochana ben Zakki takes his hand and brings him out of the room, toward healing.

The story is fascinating for many reasons. The Rabbis, like I said, didn’t know the word “depression,” but they understood that people who are in this state need help, and that they feel this sense of shame and sadness. There is discrimination for those with mental illness from health insurance companies, friends, family, congregations and community. Even in this story from the Talmud, there are certain aspects that I find uncomfortable. Eliezer was in pain and so sad, but would his friend, Jochana ben Zakki, ever have asked him why he was crying if he was bleeding? Would he ever ask Eliezer to be free of his sadness and his pain if he wore a neck brace or a back brace? We still have these assumptions about emotional trauma –that somehow we can overcome it with just a pep talk.

But we can understand that this story tells us something quite unusual as well. It tells us that Jochana ben Zakki sits and is present with his friend. Even when his friend says nothing, he’s with him. Even when his friend is not sure that he can take the help that’s needed, Jochana ben Zakki still offers it. Someone asked me, “Rabbi, what happens if you’ve opened the door so many times and you get hurt, time after time after time?” That’s a very good question. We’ve all experienced that pain. It’s important to always tell the individual that you love them and care for them, even if you can’t do exactly what they want you to do right now. Set up boundaries if you provide the intensive care that mental illness sometimes requires – but always do so with love and with care. We must also check our own expectations as well. Do we want to fix the person? Because that is a frustrating endeavor – as only they can truly fix themselves. So we must be open to both understand the need for help and our own limitations as individuals.

As a congregation we need more education and sensitivity. We need to know that we are a place where people can come when they have mental health issues. We have done a lot, but there is more to do. We have absolutely opened our educational doors to children with special emotional needs. We have the largest population of children with Asperger and types of other autism. We have opened our doors because the Talmud tells us that we must teach every child Torah. And I am proud of our program. Every year the JFCS holds the Jewish Community Conference on mental health right here. I feel a pride as we welcome people here, because they know our doors are open. We have a health committee through Beineinu; the yellow cards in the pews ask for your help and volunteerism. We want to extend our arm, not only to people who are physically ill, but who have emotional illness as well. Let us know if there is somebody that you would like to visit.

Since Rosh Hashanah, just ten days ago, the Mental Health Parity law was passed. I am glad to bring you something good that’s come out of Washington: This was a bill that was begun by Paul Wellstone, and now finished by Ramstad (who thank goodness can end his career with the passing of this law.) The law says that, those who suffer from emotional health issues will receive the same kind of support as those who have medical and surgical issues. It counteracts the discrimination that many have felt, as there are no longer higher co-pays, no longer limited doctor visits. I don’t think anyone asks how many visits it takes to set your leg that broke. And they shouldn’t ask how many visits it takes to heal a hurt mind. There are no more caps on hospital stays. This is a very important stride forward.

We as a congregation, also, need more education and sensitivity. We need to remind people that the clergy want to visit people who are struggling emotionally – that we can help, that we can be there – that our volunteers from Beineinu and our congregational nurse can extend themselves as well. We can be there for people.

Let me tell you – if we didn’t open our doors to people with mental health issues, we’d be keeping out many of our matriarchs and patriarchs. Isaac suffered from post-traumatic stress. If you were taken up a mountain by your father as an offering, you would, too. Ezekiel is known for being schizophrenic. This is not a joke. Many, many psychologists have written about a diagnosis of schizophrenia – hallucinations – he saw wheels in the air and dry bones. Noah – substance abuse; it is not a new issue in our community. Truly, he survived the flood, but if you read the end of the story, he numbs himself with alcohol. He’s drunk because he has seen horrific realities. Munchausen’s by Proxy – when a parent who in some way wants their child to be sick, so they can go to the emergency room on a regular basis just to get attention. Well, Jephtha and his daughter, I would say: Munchausen’s by Proxy. He made a vow, and his daughter lost her life because of it.

Actually, I don’t think any of the prophets would come through these doors if we decided to close them to people with mental health issues. They would be taken to the nearest locked pysch ward. That’s not exactly how we treat them when we quote them and refer to the importance of the things that they said. So we lose if we don’t open our doors. Just think about the people in history who have been know to have mental illness: Abraham Lincoln, Beethoven, Vincent Van Gogh, Isaac Newton, Michelangelo, Ernest Hemingway. What would we do without their brilliance, their leadership, their music and their words?

There is so much that we benefit from these and other people with mental health issues. And so, on this Kol Nidre, we take heed in what our tradition teaches us. In the Covenant of the Ark, there were not only the Ten Commandments that appear whole over the Ark. Those were the second set. The first set, if you remember, Moses threw down and shattered. It says in Torah, that in that ark were BOTH sets of commandments. Both were required. Because guess what? Today I might be broken, you might be whole, and I might need you. Tomorrow, you may be broken, I might be whole, and you’ll need me. A community is complete only when we are inclusive.

So Al Chei Shechatnu…

We have sinned for not opening our hearts and our doors wide enough to include all.

Al Chei Shechatnu…

We have sinned by making mental illness an “us” and “them” issue instead of a “we.”

Al Chei Shechatnu…

May our doors be widened.

May this New Year be, for each of us, one of growth and further understanding.

Amen.