Cheer Up, You’ve Got Visitors

I remember when I was a kid and got sick and my family doctor came to our home. This helped forge a very close relationship between our family and our doctor. I still remember Dr. Max Kaplan z”l (may his memory be for a blessing) from my childhood and think of him from time to time with reverence, awe and a smile. Who makes house calls anymore? I’ll tell you who. While doctors don’t make house calls these days, Gd still does! And we should visit the sick as well—whether it’s at the hospital or at one’s home. The mitzvah of Bikur Cholim (visiting the sick) is a crucial lesson from today’s Torah portion. 

Today’s Torah portion begins with the 1^st scene in the Bible where someone is ill. Joseph is told that his father Jacob was ill, so he went to visit him. You might say, “One second, wasn’t Abraham sick? Didn’t Gd visit him?” No, he wasn’t sick, he was just weak from having his circumcision a couple of days earlier. It wasn’t an illness.  

Before Jacob, our Sages tell us, a person at the end of their life would just sneeze and die—not a bad way to go in comparison to some deathly illnesses. Again, one would sneeze and then die. That’s why—to this very day—we say things like, labriut (to your health), or “Gd bless you,” when someone sneezes. It’s in effect saying, “Don’t die!”

Our Sages suggest that it was Jacob who requested to have an illness. What? He wanted to be ill? No, he was not requesting a drawn-out painful affair. He just wanted some warning before he died, so that he could get his affairs in order, gather his children together and bless them—or for a couple of them, rebuke them—before he died. Gd granted his request and, according to the Sages, he was the 1^st person in history to take ill before he died.

Since then, many of us still get the same benefit of some illness, some forewarning before death, so that we know that our time is drawing near, and can set our affairs in order and say our goodbyes, and make peace with friends, family and with Gd before we go.

When you visit a sick person—whether it’s on their death bed or any illness—you’re doing a gigantic 2-fold mitzvah: you’re doing a kindness for another human being, and you’re imitating Gd. Remember, Gd visited Abraham in his recovery from circumcision. What does Gd say to Abraham? It appears from the text that Gd doesn’t say anything—He’s just there! Perhaps that’s the message!

Perhaps Gd was modeling for us the mitzvah of Bikur Cholim—that when you know someone is ill you should go visit them and it’s not so important what you say to them, only that you show up to comfort them. This is in fulfillment of the fundamental Torah principle, Ma Hu af Ata (as Gd does, so should we)—or as the philosophers call it, Imatateo Dei (imitating the Divine).

The Talmud (Nedarim 39b) tells us that even if you visit a person who’s asleep, it’s still a mitzvah. Why? because when they wake up and they’re told you came to visit, that will cheer them up! And, as it says in Proverbs (18:14): Ruach ish y’chalkeyl machaleyhu, “The spirit of a person sustains him through his illness.” And your visit can lift their spirits.

The Talmud goes further and says that when someone visits a sick person, the visitor takes away 1/60^th of the illness. Now, it’s not as simple as getting 60 people and cramming them into a hospital room or a bedroom—for 2 reasons:

         1: This won’t instantly cure someone because each visitor only takes away 1/60^th of the remaining illness—so there will always be some illness remaining.

         2: It only works if the visitor is of a similar disposition as the sick person. This makes sense because when you’re visiting a sick person, you’re there to cheer them up. If you’re a rival, or an enemy, or if you have an antagonistic relationship with them and you rile them up—then what’s the point of the visit? You haven’t cheered them up or alleviated any pain. So, one should be careful when visiting the sick.

Unfortunately, there have been times, as a rabbi, when I had to visit people who had terrible accidents. Once I was speaking with a personal injury lawyer representing one of them. [This was before my son-in-law Darren Tobin became one of the most prominent personal injury lawyers in Atlanta.] The lawyer told me about some fascinating research.

         Scientists did some functional MRI studies of comatose patients while they were doing MRIs. They brought in family members and had them tell these comatose patients stories of sad memories from their past. Lo and behold, they found that the same areas of the brain that would activate or light up when a person is sad, would light up in these comatose patients.

         Then they had the family members tell them happy memories, wouldn’t you know it, the pleasure centers of the brain—the areas that light up or activate when someone is happy—lit up, suggesting that one could cheer up even a person in a coma. And if you can cheer up a person who’s in a coma, obviously you could cheer up someone who’s awake!

Anyone who has ever been ill can testify to the healing power of a visitor. Of course, too many visitors can be taxing—just as visitors who overstay their welcome can be a burden. For the most part, caring visitors make a difference in our recovery. Let me illustrate with a story from my life:

         It is said that doctors are terrible patients. I’ll tell you a secret—Rabbis are worse! We think that because we work for Hashem, we deserve special consideration. We spend so much time preaching, teaching, dealing with lofty matters that we forget that we have no more control over the world than anyone else!

         In 2010, I learned this lesson the hard way when I came down with a severe case of diverticulitis. In the 25 years that I had been in Atlanta, I had never missed a Shabbat in shul that was not planned—not once! As I was waiting between tests in St. Joseph’s Emergency Room, I got on my cell phone to make calls to insure the Friday night minyan. I was pretty successful because who could say no to their rabbi calling from the emergency room of a hospital? I later realized I made a serious mistake. I should have asked for money!

         This illness made me aware of something I should have known. As a regular visitor to those who are hospitalized and homebound, I should have known just how powerful a visit or a prayer or a kind wish can be. The few minutes taken out of a busy day to visit someone who is sick, to call them on the phone, or even send them a text can be better than medicine.

Did these visits and prayers cure me? No, but they did take away some of the discomfort and angst that went along with being ill, and there was some spiritual healing as well. It made me feel stronger to know that someone cared. The children from our Religious School and my grandchildren who drew pictures for me, the brief phone calls from congregants, friends and family to check up on me reminded me that I was loved.

The Talmud (Nedarim 40a) tells us: “He who visits the sick causes him to live.” Bikur cholim is a mitzvah everyone can perform. What a privilege it is to know that we have the power to bring comfort and healing to someone who is sick or suffering. The isolation and depression which accompany an illness, even a minor one like diverticulitis, can feel like a spiritual death. We ought to remember that the call we make is not a social call, but a mitzvah call.

My friends, if I can leave you with one message today, it is that Bikur Cholim is not a Rabbi’s Mitzvah. Of course, people want their Rabbi to visit them when they’re not feeling well—although Covid and our increased sensitivities to catching an illness has complicated that. But we all have a measure of healing we can offer one another.

I ask you, this holiday weekend when you probably have some free time, find or make some time to visit a sick relative or friend, or at least give them a call. Who knows, you just may make their day and more! Amen!