In response to a wonderful set of questions generated by yesterday's post on how to deal with a painful past, I continue where yesterday left off.
Lucy wrote:
I'm wondering if the concept of pain that you are referring to means specifically a communal pain that Jews feel together....of course we handle such tragedies by being active in relief efforts, by fighting tyrants, etc. On a personal level, our faith prescribes a blueprint of dealing with the death of a loved one...but complaining is not about pain. It seems to me that it "unJewish" to suffer on a personal level.
You are on the right track Lucy, and I appreciate your thoughtful comments. The pain to which I refer can be either collective or individual -- the difference between them is not so great. Collectives or communities are made up of individuals and so their pain as a group is the aggregate of their pain as individuals.
Assuming that social action is the primary or even most effective way of "handling" such pain may be off base. Too often our own good deeds in response to a tragedy deflect the big spiritual or theological questions that tragedy can and should provoke. Also there is something too easy about assuming that our good deeds can fix everything. Sometimes we need to sit and feel something, even if it is really bad, before we do anything.
I also think that the personal mourning rituals of Jewish tradition are deeply instructive and relevant to collective mourning. In fact, there is no real distinction in those practices, which is why the celebration of a holiday ends one's personal mourning. The underlying premise being that the joy of the community renders personal sadness an oxymoron. I actually think that we need to make MORE room for personal mourning in the tradition, but that is for another time.
Finally, you are totally correct about the dangers of "wallowing in self-pity" and "drowning in sorrow". But I would be cautious in the use of descriptions like "un-Jewish" when describing the practices of others. Jewish tradition is deep and wide. The proof fro pretty much anything can be found within it. That is one of its great strengths. And it demands that we debate differences, not on the basis of their essential Jewishness, but on the basis of their wisdom and their ability to capture our own best understanding of the tradition we love.
Looking forward to more of your questions.
Add to Del.icio.us
Add to Technorati
Add to Digg
Add to Newsvine
Add to Facebook
Add to StumbleUpon
Subscribe
Author, radio and TV talk show host, and President of CLAL-The National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership, Brad Hirschfield is the author of 
People who have suffered and who continue to suffer are certainly entitled to their pain and time to mourn and feel anger.
The thing I have no patience for, however, is people who have been given everything in life, yet carry themselves as though they have been long-sufferring souls, continuing to prattle on about how hard they have it; how there's no money (when there's more than adequate money, if the person didn't spend it all); who has raised her child to carry the same emotional burden she carries to the point where he actually walks stooped.... it goes on and on.
And then I think of my mother, the sole survivor of her family in the Holocaust, who married my father, the sole survivor of his family, also murdered in the Holocaust, who did not have a great life with my father; we were never well off growing up, etc, etc, etc.... And somehow, with a few minor exceptions, she is likely the most compassionate and sensible person I have ever known, never carrying a chip on her shoulder, never angry with the world, never complaining.
When I want to (just figuratively) smack the person to whom I refer above, my mother tells me just to let it go, that the person is tired, etc, that I should feel sorry for her because she feels no joy.
And I would, except that this person is an extended family member whose actions impact a wide circle of other family members.
And I know what's coming. She will not change. So I have no choice but to accept it. Is this empowering, knowing I have to accept what cannot be changed, or is it supremely frustrating, knowing she will not change and does not care and is in denial?
I suspect somehow that I am far from alone in this situation.
Thank you, Rabbi, for your very wise comments. I still feel (as you apparantely do) that Judaism needs to support the personal sufferer. One comment that I need to make is that, at least traditionally, Jews cannot mourn or say kaddish for ctheir hildren who have died. I understand that the death of an adult marks the death of a person who has been able to contribute the coming of the messiah and the betterment of the human race. Yet, I cannot imagine a greater pain anyone can feel than the loss of a child.
I also have several small questions: (Should) (Does) the severity of our grief relate to our relationship with the afflicted? Apparantely, it is considered important to grieve as much for those who are divorced from us as for those whom we know. I ask only if this expectation is realistic-or representative of the human psyche.
Also, I am an individual who believes that the "trivial" grief of wealthy and competent people can be very painful. I understand completely that someone who lacks food and water and is in danger of dying from hunger and thirst is in a more urgent problem. Yet, the pain felt from financial loss, the rupture of a personal relationship, etc. can be intense.
Let me know your thoughts.
Lucy
Lucy, I will be moving on to other topics for now, but wanted to assure you that Jews do say Kaddish for their children. There is a tradition of not mourning a baby who dies before reaching the age of thirty days however.
That tradition was based on high infant mortality rates which made the first thirty days of life especially precarious. I think it was, in its own way, a device to keep people from getting overwhelmed by the regular loss of such newborns. I also think that it is a tradition whose time has come and gone.
Thank God, we live in an era of higher expectations and it would be wrong not to fully mourn the death of such newborn infants. Having gone through the process with people who have lost such kids, I can tell you that it would be heartless to deny them their mourning and the community support which accompanies it.
And you are certainly correct that nor loss is trivial, especially when its yours! My only caveat on that one is that when the focus on our own losses innures us to the the losses of others, we have gone to far. Short of that, we should honor them all -- not because they are all equal (I'll leave that calculus to someone else), but because they are all real.
Post a Comment
By submitting these comments, I agree to the beliefnet.com terms of service, rules of conduct and privacy policy (the "agreements"). I understand and agree that any content I post is licensed to beliefnet.com and may be used by beliefnet.com in accordance with the agreements.