The Ten Commandments for When You’re Told: “You Have Cancer”

The Ten Commandments for When You're Told: "You Have Cancer"
January 13^th, 2006
Rabbi Gary S. Creditor 

As I recall, in the beginning of my rabbinic career most of the times that I officiated at a funeral, death was caused by something other than cancer.  Hospital visits were also the result of my congregants suffering from ailments other than cancer.  Of course, my "case load" is not a scientific sampling and I extrapolate from it at my own risk.  Yet my experience of life, and of death, is shaped by my Rabbinate and the life of my family.  Until my paternal grandmother, all of my relatives died from something else other than cancer.  Yet as the years have progressed and as I visit from hospital to hospital, for my father and mother-n-law, zichronam l'vracha, the disease of cancer has been ever increasingly present.  In the earlier years of my career, I wasn't prepared to wisely counsel the family and its members when cancer was the diagnosis.  In order to be of assistance I have attended many seminars and programs to better equip me to be a better Rabbi, especially in this matter.  I continue to read and develop so that I can be of better assistance, especially as the incidence of cancer has risen so dramatically in these years. 

For that purpose, I attended a daylong seminar last fall sponsored by the American Cancer Society geared for clergy of all faiths and other health care providers.  The program covered familiar information for many and provided new insights for all.  The attendees were from all parts of Virginia, and reflected all parts of society and faith communities.  I was honored to represent Judaism.  At the end of the day, we filled in evaluation forms.  Besides answering their questions, I reflected that I wish that I had had something like this much earlier in my career.  I also wished that I known or acknowledged some of things that I am about to share when my father and my mother-in-law battled cancer.  If it would not had made their journeys easier, perhaps it would have helped me in mine. At the end of the day, we were encouraged to implement what we had learned.  So I sat there and thought of a sermon and what to say.  I had made a list of many of the points and began to connect them.  With a little extra work, I got to ten, thus the title of these remarks: The Ten Commandments for Living When you are Told: You've Got Cancer. 

1. In the Ten Commandments from Mt. Sinai, the first is not really a commandment.  It is more like a prologue before the real ones.  For my list both the first and second are a prologue.  First, have all the possible and available early screenings and tests for early detection.  The old maxim that "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure" had to be written with cancer in mind.  With all the positive and exciting advances in cancer treatment, nothing, I repeat nothing, replaces those pro-active and preventative steps that we can individually take to either diminish our risk factor or "nip it in the bud."  We need to know what kind of tests and when to take them.  We have our own responsibilities.
2.  Secondly, we should all support cancer research as part of our tzedakah giving.  The life that new discoveries can save may truly be our own.
3. When a person receives the report, it must galvanize the person to prompt and proper medical attention.  There is no time for procrastination.  The impact of such news must not paralyze.  Especially where time delays in getting a doctor's appointment is in our current system, a person must act quickly.  Wishing and praying won't make it go away.  The Rabbis teach us the concept "At la-asot" it is a time to act.
4. Learn about the resources available.  There are many sources of information from our doctors, on the web, and from a large number of organizations, and in particular, the American Cancer Society.  Branching out from these is a larger number of sources of assistance in learning about the disease, possible treatments, support for the journey, and physical assistance in times of greater need.  There is no excuse for ignorance.  Knowledge can help save us and support us.
5. I cite the key verse of Torah: Love thy neighbor as thyself.  Love is a magic elixir.  It is an antidote.  Love is an "upper."  Love is perhaps one of the key human virtues.  It breaks the wall of isolation.  It uplifts the broken heart, elevates our vision, and imparts hope.  Cancer is a disease and not the plague.  A key component in the fight is to give love, from family, friends and community.  This connects to the next one.
6. It is a positive mitzvah to give encouragement through the journey. It is a positive mitzvah to receive the love and encouragement.  Not everyone can be a "talker" and discuss their situation.  While silence in not always golden, it can be respected, at least in part.  Yet a person must be prepared to accept the love and care and concern that flow from one human being to another, to accept the accompaniment of family and community.  If it will not cure, it will ease.  We must give because "there but for the grace of God…"  And we must be open to receiving the gift of love.
7. Have hope. Be courageous.  Live with determination.  Source after source in our faith teaches that these are core values, the strongest dynamics, when faced with a crisis. When Moses is about to die he says to Joshua, Chazak ve-ematz, be strong and courageous.  Jacob was courageous in his fight with the unknown assailant before crossing the Jordan coming home.  David in the Psalms implores us to be chazak, to be strong.  Who knows what positive chemical agents this metaphysical attitude releases to fight the disease?  Who knows how the spirit factors into the physical?  And even if it does not change the course of personal history, it changes the journey.  This leads to the next commandment.
8. Be optimistic.  Even a persona sick with any ailment is required to recite Modeh Ani lefanecha melech chay v'kayam shechazarta be nishmati b'chemlah rabbah emunatecha – I give thanks before you the living and everlasting king, that you returned to me my soul, with constant and abundant mercy.  We say "Baruch Adonay Yom Yom," "Blessed is God every day…"  The early Zionists who had much over which to despair adopted the song "Hatikvah" – the hope to encourage them.  Perhaps it is no mistake that synagogues are, and we davening privately, are supposed to face east – the direction of the rising sun, to inspire us with light and with warmth.
9. Have faith in a loving God.  It is not a question against God, why does cancer strike?  The answer lies in our imperfect world, in the risks of smoking, and other hazardous chemicals.  It lies in the genes that govern our bodies.  The question is more a cry of pain and a shout for help.  In this imperfect world or specifically because of it, God's love accompanies us.  In our prayers tonight we recited Ahavat Olam, which refers to God's everlasting love, undying love, and tomorrow the parallel prayer is Ahavah Rabbah, God's great love.  We may imagine in a metaphoric way, it being like a mother's kiss, which really didn't heal the scrape, but made it feel much better.  God's love encompasses us in the bad times, not only the good, when it is easy to roll off our lips.  The little reading called Footprints, about a person complaining that God was not with him in difficult times, when he only saw one set of footprints on the sand, God answers and says, "That is when I carried you."  Judaism teaches us faith in a compassionate God, whose mercies reach out to uplift us, inspire us, enthuse us and arouse us.  Not only are we not alone because we have family and friends, we are most surely not alone, because God is with us.  That faith smoothes the rocky and potholed road that confronts us.  Which leads me to the last one.
10. Pray.  Prayer is not a synagogue activity.  It is done at home.  It is done in the backyard and at the seashore.  Talk to God, using your own words or that of tradition in the siddur.  Tell Him/Her – No, "It" allowed – of your pain and of your fear.  Ask for strength.  Ask for healing.  Ask for hope.  And hear the answer in the response of others and in yourself.  In our synagogue, we recite the prayer Mi Shebarrach listing people by their Hebrew name, being the son or daughter of their mother, using the motif that David did in Psalms, and thus respecting people's right to privacy.  Yet there is also a place in the weekday Amidah to insert people's names in a prayer for healing, that the worshipper does for others.  I have a long list of whom I privately implore God when I pray silently.  I never desist.  It might be hard if you've never done it before.  Don't do it like a deal- God, if You do this, then I'll do that.  Pour out your heart and look for answers in the doctors' skills, in the researchers' discoveries, in love, in the beauty of the world that we can still see, in the laughter of children and grandchildren, in the delicacy of a flower.  Prayer is a powerful medicine, as powerful as any the pharmacist will dispense.

 If we didn't have ten as a good number, I would have written less or I could write more.  Everyone can critique these and rewrite them, adding or subtracting, and that's fine.  These are the ones that I came up with as I sat in study all day.  I hope they help along the road in our journeys through life.  My closing prayer is that may the day come soon, in our lifetime that the cures for all our ills will be discovered.  In the meantime, may our lives be blessed with hope, courage, strength and love.                          

Amen.