Suffering and comforting transcend religious boundaries
During one of those "I shouldn't be laughing at this" episodes of Larry David's edgy comedy "Curb Your Enthusiasm," a cast member from the reality TV show "Survivor" argues with an old Jewish man about who has endured the most suffering.
Colby bemoans the lack of snacks and the risk of deadly snakebites in the Australian outback during the filming of the "Survivor" show.
Solly fires back.
"Did you ever see our show?" he yells. "It was called the Holocaust!"
The very idea of a suffering competition where an old Jewish man can play the ultimate trump card gives the impression that Jews have a superhuman ability to cope with suffering.
"It's certainly a stereotype, but it's not a good guide of what real people experience at times of crisis," says Rabbi Joseph Ozarowski, co-chair of the Chicago-area group hosting this weekend's annual conference of the National Association of Jewish Chaplains.
"I don't think anyone has a monopoly on knowing how to suffer. Everyone deals with it in their own way," says suburban Rabbi Stan Kazen, a full-time chaplain at Advocate Lutheran General Hospital in Park Ridge since 1987.
"The people who survived the Holocaust, for the most part, didn't look back and say, 'Woe is me,' as much as 'I'm about life,' " Kazen says, noting many went on to have children and live long lives.
"Jewish people have the same questions about suffering and meaning as most people do," Ozarowski says.
This year's Jewish chaplains conference will pay special attention to the pain families feel from issues such as domestic violence, mental illness, autism or substance abuse.
"These don't discriminate according to religious or ethnic communities," Ozarowski notes. "They are universal and part of the human condition."
Rabbinic chaplain at the Jewish Healing Network of Chicago and co-chair of the local Jewish chaplains group, Ozarowski says "there is a sacred obligation to take care of these needs."
Jewish chaplains trained in pastoral care visit area hospitals, nursing homes, prisons and other facilities requesting spiritual help.
While Kazen and a few others have long histories as Jewish chaplains in the suburbs, "the hospitals farther out don't have as much Jewish coverage," Ozarowski says. His group sends pamphlets with Hebrew prayers to Christian chaplains in the suburbs so they can minister to Jewish patients.
"I minister to all people, and it really makes no difference to me," Kazen says. "When we are in pain, we all cry. And it doesn't matter what our tradition is. Jews cry, Christians cry. Muslims cry. Hindus cry. We all cry. You don't have to be Jewish to appreciate empathy. And when a person is suffering, that person needs empathy."
Drawing inspiration from the Torah and the book of Genesis, Ozarowski says the first example of a chaplain comforting the sick (called bikkur cholim) was God's visit to Abraham, after the old man was recovering from his circumcision.
"God is ministering simply with his presence," Ozarowski says.
"God cures; we try to provide healing," Kazen says. "Ours is a ministry of listening. Creative listening. It's not a ministry of giving advice."
Visiting an old woman who was dying, Ozarowski says he offered to play her a tape of Yiddish show tunes or a cantorial CD. She chose the religious music.
"Her eyes just closed, she took my hand and this ethereal look came on her face," the Skokie rabbi recalls. "When it was over, she was crying and I was crying. It was one of those moments that reminded me of why I got into this business."
From group sessions out in the suburbs to emergency responses throughout the nation and world, Jewish chaplains answer the call.
"Grief is grief and people are people, and we are all created in the image of God," Ozarowski says.
"We don't go in with a script. We go in with what I call a spiritual tool package," Ozarowski says, adding that listening (not preaching) is the key. "We help them find meaning in what is going on around them."