Physical and mental illness does not devalue a person - Vayelech

I saw his fear filled eyes and anguished face across a crowded room. How long has it been since I saw him last? Thoughts of pity filled my mind. He was clearly suffering from a severe mental illness. Then I caught myself. Did I value him less because of his illness? Did I see the person and respect him for his intrinsic worth or did I see him primarily through the lens of his condition?

Jane Caro once said about ageing: "Your outside deteriorates, but by God, your inside improves". Yet, still, physical strength seems also to be erroneously equated with virtue. In the US presidential election, ‘Hillary’s health’ has been highlighted, not just because it is necessary for a demanding job but, in my view, as way of devaluing her as a person (especially as a woman) aspiring to leadership. Trump’s sniffles at last week’s debate were also jumped on by commentators, for the same reason. I object to that. Surely, there are people whose physical or mental health is not optimal; they might tire more quickly, be unable to walk, be in pain, depressed or anxious, yet they can be intelligent, compassionate and productive. It is wrong to suggest there is something shameful about a loss of physical strength or mental health difficulties. As the late Stella Cornelius used to say; “The best things in this world have been done by people who were not feeling well that day” (1).  

The tendency to equate physical strength with virtue can be inferred from the commentary on the following verse. Moses, said simply “"Today I am one hundred and twenty years old. I can no longer go or come” (2). Rather than take this at face value, some of the classical commentators jump in with denial of his physical decline. “You might think that his strength was weakened, so the Torah tells you (in another verse) that although “Moses was one hundred and twenty years old when he died. His eye had not dimmed, nor had he lost his moisture” (3). His being unable to “go and come” is interpreted as him being denied divine permission to enter the promised land (4).

In one dramatic commentary we have Moses feeling afraid that the people might take his words literally and think that he is not physically strong. To counter this “Moses walked (5) the length and breadth of the whole camp quickly or vigorously to show that his strength at this time (at the age of 120) is the same as it was then (when he was younger)” (6).  

Alternative commentators, however, have no problem acknowledging the changing degree of physical strength or prowess of the great man of the spirit (7). A compromise position is that although Moses was still physically strong at the time he told the people “it is not proper that I fool myself that it will always be thus, because due to my being elderly, despite my current good health, I have no doubt that it will not be this way in the future, per force, weakness will come upon me quickly…” (8) Clearly, there is no shame in physical weakness, it is the way of all men and women, including the greatest.

At this holy time of the year for Jews (leading up to Yom Kippur when our fate for the following year is “sealed”), I wish everyone optimal physical and mental health and strength, and for those of us for whom that might not be possible, let us be spared the pain of stigma and judgement and instead do the best we can. This is certainly virtuous and honorable.

Notes

1. Stella Cornelius, cited in a comment on my blog by Paul Reti, and also quoted to me by Donna Jacobs Sife
2. Deuteronomy 31:2
3. Deuteronomy 34:7
4. Talmud Sotah 13b, based on Sifre, cited in Rashi, and second opinion in Daat Zekainim M’baalei Hatosofot. The interpretation is made more plausible when reading the second half of the verse that mentions the matters of permission: “and God said to me you will not pass this Jordan river”. This argument is challenged by Mizrachi and Maharsha who argue that the letter Vav means “and”, and we don’t find it used as “because”. Tzeda L’Derech counters that in fact in Genesis 2:5 the letter Vav which means: and, is taken to also mean ‘because’. The verse states: “God had not made it rain and, -meaning because- there was not a man to work the land”. Ramban also does not accept the simple meaning of the text and instead suggests that Moses’ comment was (a false) comfort for the people, implying that his imminent death was not such a great loss.
5. This is the reason for “Moses going”, mentioned in Deuteronomy 31:1
6. Klei Yakar
7. Ibn Ezra, Bchor Shor and implied in Seforno
8. Abarbanel

Plebiscite Restraint, Stigma, Gay Men, and a Blaspheming “Bastard” (Emor)

Last week I participated in a panel with Anthony Venn-Brown, Anglican Priest, Rod Bower, and business leader, Peta Granger, regarding the relationship between LGBQTI people, business and religion. The session was facilitated by LGBT rights campaigner Tiernan Brady, who concluded the discussion with a plea for civility and restraint during the upcoming debate in Australia about broadening the legal definition of marriage. I agree that this is extremely important in order to avoid the negative impact on LGBQTI young people of a slanging match that would demonise and denigrate proponents of both change and the status quo.

In preparation for the panel I read; A Life of Unlearning: a preacher's struggle with his homosexuality, church and faith by Brown which he had given me. I found it quite unsettling. The impact that shame made on his life over a period of many years has been devastating. The secret life he led as a gay person left him exposed to exploitation, prone to making self-destructive choices and caused him terrible suffering. Eventually, when he disclosed his sexuality, he was shunned and his family was abandoned by the Christian community of which they had been a part. 

One aspect of Brown’s story, as well as the broader history of the experience of gay men in the 60s and 70s, led me to revisit something I had written in 2011. At the time, I was critical of Rabbi Moshe Feinstein’s view expressed in a letter written in 1976 that “the whole world despises homosexuals...”... and that gay men also despised each other[i]”. While no one needs to pretend that the Torah does not prohibit homosexual acts, I argued that it was “hard to believe that this conclusion was based on intensive interviews with a representative sample of homosexuals[ii]”. Yet, Brown writes about the significant impact of stigma, and shaming on gay men in the early 70s that led to a split between activists who wanted to focus on politics and others who sought to focus on improved self-image.

I must concede that Feinstein did have some factual basis for his assertions that were at least true at the time he wrote his letter. Where this Halachic authority and reality part company is in his wishful conclusion that stigma would lead same sex attracted men to avoid homosexual sex[iii]. Brown’s experience illustrates that stigma had no such impact on him, but that it did have an extremely damaging impact on his life. Negative self-perception has also been linked to diminished religious adherence[iv], which is another reason some orthodox Rabbis who are concerned about alienating LGBQTI people have opted for restraint.

The relationship between stigma and alienation from religion comes up in commentary at the end of our Torah reading last week. We read about “the son of an Israelite woman, and he was the son of an Egyptian man, went out among the children of Israel, and they quarrelled in the camp… The son of the Israelite woman pronounced the [Divine] Name and cursed. ...They took the blasphemer outside the camp and stoned him[v]”. Commentary tells us that the blasphemer of mixed heritage ‘was known until shortly before this episode, as the son of an Israelite woman among the other Israelites he had chosen to identify with. His mother had concealed the truth about her son’s birth by an Egyptian father that she slept with while married to another man, because of her honour. Somehow people began to talk about the fact that he was, in fact, “the son of an Egyptian”’[vi].  At that time, he sought acceptance and dignity by being allowed to pitch his tent among his mother’s tribe. However he was rejected and this lead him to lash out against God and ultimately to his death. 

While I am pleased that capital punishment is no longer practiced in Jewish law for blasphemy or any other crime, I think there is a lesson in this story about stigma and its impact on LGBQTI people. Drawing on Brown’s experience as well as the Biblical blasphemer, I think there is a particularly strong lesson relating to those who also seek a home within orthodox Jewish communities and other conservative faith communities. The Israelites in the desert lost a man who desperately wanted to belong within their faith community but instead turned to blasphemy. There is a big difference in tone between Feinstein’s writing in the 70s and the empathy shown by Rapoport, an orthodox Jewish scholar whose book was published thirty years later[vii]. 

Also at the forum, leading politician Penny Wong talked about the importance of considering where public figures’ words land and their impact. She could have quoted the Talmudic advice; “Wise people, be careful with your words[viii]”. I hope Tiernan’s call for civility and restraint on all sides of this debate will be heeded.  

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[i] Feinstien, R. Moshe, (1976) Igrot Moshe, Orach Chayim 4, p. 206, in a letter dated 1 Adar II, 5736

[ii] http://torahforsociallyawarehasid.blogspot.com.au/2011/04/torah-based-responses-to-homosexuality.html

[iii] Feinstien, R. Moshe, (1976) p. 205 and 206

[iv] See Tanya chapter 1

[v] Leviticus 24:10-23

[vi] Abarbanel p 281

[vii] Rapoport, Rabbi C, (2004) Judaism and Homosexuality, Vallentine Mitchell, London & Portland

[viii] Pirkey Avot 1:11