‘May God Smile Upon You’: A Healthy Laugh |
“You don’t stop laughing when you grow old; you grow old when you stop laughing.”
– attributed to George Bernard Shaw (1856 – 1950)
There are over 1 million depictions of God on the Internet. I have never seen one of Him smiling. And yet, blessing our children, we pray “May God smile upon you.” (Alternate translations are “May God shine on you” or “…shed his light on you.”)
In view of never seeing Him smile, how realistic is that prayer?
What is realistic is that the first time, indeed every time for the rest of our lives, that we hear our children laugh, we realize God has blessed us. Laughter is as divine a gift as Manna.
My medical school pal Larry was dying. He wanted to talk to me. What could I tell him that would be helpful?
He wanted to live long enough to witness the bar mitzvahs of his grandsons whom he had taught to Layn, but he knew better than I, it was unlikely. We couldn’t speak of the future; we didn’t want to speak of the present. So, we spoke of the past.
For months, at least weekly, we spoke as long as his strength permitted. No philosophy, no insights, just laughter. It wasn’t therapy, but Larry found it therapeutic.
So did I. I told him honestly I looked forward to it more than he did (which made him laugh even more.)
Visiting patients, in hospital or home, in person or by phone, laughing together revitalizes them, and us.
In Anatomy of an Illness, Norman Cousins claims laughter is “Internal jogging”, precipitating endorphin- release, “A bulletproof vest” protecting us from our disease’s onslaught.
That is quite likely. What is definite is that patients at facility or home, who continue to be upbeat despite everything, receive more frequent, lengthier visits from medical personnel as well as their loved ones.
Everyone wants to spend time with them. Apparently, including God. What do Mel Brooks, George Burns, Professor Irwin Corey, Bob Hope, Norman Lear and Dick Van Dyke have common?
Two things. They were all very funny and all lived over a century. Proverbs 17, 22: “A joyful heart heals like medicine.”
As the purpose of a eulogy is to, for the moment, bring the deceased back to life, the objective of a patient-visit is to bring the diseased back to life.
As an eulogist reminds the audience of the glories of a subject’s life, so does the visitor (as I did Larry.) As an eulogist doesn’t focus on the death (unless it was uniquely courageous), a visitor shouldn’t focus on the illness. As their death shouldn’t be allowed to define someone, neither should their illness.
The purpose of Shiva is to be reminded that, at a time we feel the most alone, we are not alone. The objective of visiting patients is the same.
Most report loved ones’ visits are more therapeutic than physicians’.
In Gematria, love, Ahava, is 13. God, YHVH, is double, 26, because when two people express their love, laughing together, God is in the room.
At Shiva, we recite “HaMokom Yenachem Etchem” may God comfort you, plural, even if the bereaved is sitting alone because God is in the room with them. Visiting mourners, and patients, we put Him there.
Our entire people mourn on Tisha B’Av. We live the day in a minor key. One notable Tisha B’Av, I couldn’t be happier. To be fair, it was Shabbas, so the fast was the following day. To be honest, even if I had been fasting, I would have still been happy. I was visiting my brother-in-law Stan in the hospital.
Stan, like Larry, had a long protracted fatal illness. That gave me the pleasure of repeatedly visiting him in Sloan Kettering, rehab, and hospice.
Why was it a pleasure? Because Stan was inveterately upbeat.
As the patient and a physician we both understood his prognosis. We both saw his iatrogenic bodily violations. Yet, we kibitzed together as if we were sitting in Shul, only louder. On several occasions, our laughter was so raucous, staff came into the room to ascertain what the commotion was. Stan, of course, then entertained them so they didn’t leave until summoned.
On one occasion, someone attempted to engage him in political debate. He had strong views which he articulated persuasively, but I could see he, understandably, wasn’t in the mood. I changed the subject setting him up for a funny anecdote. I became Carl Reiner (who only lived till 98) playing straight man to his Mel Brooks. Stan ran with it to everyone’s delight.
Debates have no place at a Shiva, or bedside. Is God in the room when we argue with each other, or when we love each other?
Considering the most salient manifestation of his disappointment, the destruction of the Temple, was precipitated by the former, and his greatest miraculous blessing, the creation of a new life, is the direct result of the latter, His answer is obvious.
Stan’s rehab facility was Catholic. A large replica of Jesus on the cross hung over every door. (When our brother-in-law visited on Christmas, on his way out, he nodded to Jesus courteously, wishing him “Happy birthday.”)
Why then, in Jewish facilities, other than discrete Mezuzas on doorposts, are there no prominent religious displays?
The answer is, they aren’t necessary. In any medical setting, facility or home, of any religious persuasion, or no religion at all, God is in the room. That’s all we need.
The Lubavitćher Rebbe advocated changing the Hebrew name of hospitals from Beit Cholim, House of Sick Patients, to Beit Refuah, House of Healing. (Pseudonymous Jewish psychiatrist Dr. Samuel Shem authored House of God about Boston’s Beth Israel Hospital.) Part of that healing (as Proverbs 17, 22 reminds us) comes from our joyful laughter.
Like everyone, many days, I ponder my purpose in life. Some answers are obvious, father, grandfather, husband, friend, physician, advisor, supporter, et al. When I think of Larry, and Stan, and innumerable others, I remind myself that despite having experienced the worst that God had to offer, my parents named me Yitzchok, “He will laugh.” That is my purpose too.
Laughing with Stan in the hospital, I felt God’s presence more undeniably than I ever had in Shul.
Laughing with Larry, I felt his presence more than when we worked in several Houses of God together.
In both instances, I am certain that I saw Him smiling.