I will never forget the first time I saw my
colleague and former boss Rabbi Lynne Landsberg, several years after she had
suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury in a car crash. I ran into her at a URJ
Biennial convention –the national conference of our Reform movement.
Thirteen years earlier, Lynne had supervised me
when I interned for a summer at the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism
in Washington, D.C. Back then, she was a tall, formidable, incredibly
well-spoken, and very funny woman. She was a powerful speaker and advocate in
Washington on behalf of our movement on important moral issues.
When I saw her at the Biennial thirteen years
later, I was overwhelmed by the physical changes. She was small now, and
hunched over. She walked with great difficulty, with a cane, her face was
disfigured, and her speech was slurred. My heart immediately sank at the sight
of this powerful woman who now seemed so diminished. This woman whom I used to go to for help and
advice was now asking me to take her by the elbow and guide her through the
convention hall.
But as I walked with her, I quickly began to see
that this was still Lynne Landsberg. She still cracked me up, she was still
bright and articulate. And a couple years later, when I got to hear her speak
to a large forum about disability rights, I saw clearly that she is still a
powerful speaker and an effective advocate . In fact, because of her life
experience, she is even more inspiring now than she ever was before.
This week, in observance of Jewish Disability
Awareness Month, Lynne wrote a Dvar Torah – a teaching – for the URJ weekly
email. She starts by quoting this week’s Torah portion, which talks about
Shabbat.
It
says in Exodus 35:2, "On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day
you shall have a Sabbath of complete rest, holy to the Lord; whoever does any
work on it shall be put to death.
She goes on to say[1]:
I know well how harsh the threat of
death is. In January 1999, due to a Traumatic Brain Injury sustained from a car
accident, I lay near death in a coma for six weeks.
After brain surgery and a month and a
half in a coma, I slowly awoke, unable to do literally anything. I could not
walk, talk, read, concentrate, or focus for any amount of time. Finally, after
four months in the hospital, I came home with 24-hour nursing care. Years and
years of intensive rehabilitation followed.
From my 48 years without a brain injury,
I. . . know well how liberating it is to rest on Shabbat. But now, I understand
that the concept of Shabbat rest implies that you have spent six days creating,
producing, and providing – none of which I was able to do for many years
following my accident and which I still struggle to do now.
Rest is different from doing nothing.
The unfortunate reality, though is that "nothing" is what many people
with disabilities do all week with their talents and credentials because they
are denied employment and the opportunity to contribute to society in
meaningful ways.
According to disability advocates, the
vast majority of adults with disabilities are unemployed or underemployed – not
because they cannot or do not want to work, but because they are denied the opportunity
to work at jobs for which they are qualified, simply on the basis of
discrimination. Statistics show that such employment discrimination leads many
people with disabilities to lives of poverty and significant financial
struggle.
"Nothing" is also what many
Jews with disabilities do in our synagogues because they find themselves shut
out of participation, both physically and emotionally. Even those Jews with
disabilities who are members of congregations may not necessarily be involved
in synagogue life. This is due to no fault of their own. Many of these
congregants need more from their synagogues than ramps and designated parking
spaces. As in the general population, those in the Jewish community have a wide
spectrum of disabilities, ranging from the obvious (such as the use of
wheelchairs, canes, or prosthetics) to the invisible (including autism spectrum
disorders, mental illness, and many others).
Lynne
speaks beautifully of the meaning of Shabbat as rest from a week of productive
labor, of active engagement with the world. And she teaches us that Shabbat doesn’t
hold much meaning when you aren’t able to contribute actively to your community
during the week.
In
the past few weeks I’ve visited with a number of congregants who, whether due
to age or illness, are currently disabled. One of these folks is Peggy Tunick,
whom many of you know. She has been an active member of this congregation for
decades. She gave me permission to share
a bit about her and to use her name, and I’m so grateful for that.
When
I went to see Peggy this week, I was saddened to see how much she has
deteriorated physically. A neuro-muscular disease has made it very difficult
for her to walk and to speak. But Peggy is still Peggy! Although it was
challenging to understand every word she said, I could still see and hear that
she has her same sense of humor, her same magnetic personality, her same sharp
intellect. Typical of Peggy, before I could even ask how she was doing, she
asked me to show her pictures of my kids.
Peggy
and several other congregants I’ve visited share the experience of the days
running one into the other, without much to distinguish them. They struggle to
make their days matter, when so much time is spent doing “nothing.” For each of
them, there is a sense of isolation and a yearning for meaningful engagement
with the world and with our community. For them, I imagine Shabbat doesn’t feel
much different from the rest of the week.
In
this week’s Torah portion, Moses and the Israelites begin to build the
Tabernacle where God’s Presence will dwell among the Israelites. The first
thing Moses does is to ask every Israelite whose heart so moves him or her to
bring contributions to the building project. And every Israelite who is
moved to participate brings something of value, whether wood or gold or cloth,
to the building of this holy space.
Over
the years I have seen us in this congregation successfully harness the gifts of
many of our members, some of whom have physical, emotional, or mental disabilities.
We find ways to make sure every child who wants to become Bar or Bat Mitzvah
can do that, no matter what learning differences they may have. We have already
taken good steps towards making our synagogue accessible physically and
spiritually to all. We don’t have any stairs, we have the ramp to the bimah and
a new automatic front door.
A
new project in the works is to begin live streaming our Shabbat services and
other programs, so that homebound congregants can connect to the community in
real time over the internet. We have
also been emphasizing the issue of mental health through our programming and
our social action work this year.
But
there is always more that we can do, especially when it comes to figuring out
how to help those with disabilities bring their gifts to this community. Peggy
told me that one of the hardest things about her situation is that she
has always been the one who does for others, she has always been independent,
she has always been the one to offer help. Now she is on the receiving end, and
it’s important for us to give to her. But wouldn’t it be wonderful to find ways
for her to continue to give to others?
Another
thing that I’d like us to figure out is how to help congregants overcome the
embarrassment they feel about coming into the building in a wheelchair or with
a walker, especially for the first time. Even though the building is physically
accessible, it is emotionally difficult for many folks to overcome that feeling
of being exposed, or becoming the center of attention when they come into the
building for the first time after an injury or a disease has debilitated them
physically.
We
also can engage with this issue on the policy level. We need to urge our
Senators to finally ratify the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with
Disabilities. Go to here to take action: http://action.rac.org/p/dia/action/public/?action_KEY=11332
As
we devote ourselves to making this community and our world a place where all
people can bring their gifts and where all people can find Shabbat rest after a
week of meaningful labor, I want to end with my own interpretation of a saying
from Pirkei Avot, the Ethics of our Sages:
Ben
Azzai taught: “Treat no one lightly and think no-one is useless, for everyone
has a moment, and everyone has a place.”
[1] http://www.reformjudaism.org/blog/2014/02/21/holy-privilege-resting-shabbat?utm_source=WU&utm_medium=email&utm_content=20140221&utm_campaign=Feature
