No phrase may be more quintessentially British than ‘Keep calm and carry on’. Yet human beings are not meant to suppress their emotions for long periods of time, and doing so can lead to physical and mental health issues.
As we recovered from the isolation of Covid, the Jewish community was traumatised by October 7. We are all suffering from exhaustion, bereavement and despair as devastating events continue to unfold.
This is, of course, compounded by the struggles in our day-to-day lives.
Yet Jewish tradition can help us to address mental health challenges. At the most basic level, we are encouraged to help each other – Kol yisrael aravim zeh bazeh. “Every Jew has the responsibility to care for and support each other” (BT Shav 39a).
We read in the Talmud (BT Ber 5b) that Rabbi Johanan once fell ill and Rabbi Hanina went in to visit him. He said to Johanan: “Are your sufferings welcome to you?” He replied: “Neither they nor their reward.” Hanina said: “Give me your hand.” Johanan gave him Hanina his hand and he raised him. Why could Johanan not raise himself? They replied: “The prisoner cannot free himself from jail.”
It’s unclear what ailed Johanan, but we could understand this as a mental health issue. When Johanan acknowledged that he did not welcome his sufferings, he wanted to alleviate them but was stuck.
The Sages, in their wisdom, understood that when one is imprisoned by one’s mind, when they can’t think beyond their present circumstances, they need someone to help them out.
To find out how we help each other, we can look to the core declaration of faith in our Torah: Shema Yisrael adonoy elokeinu, adonoy echad. “Listen, Israel! The Eternal is our God, the Eternal is one.”
Reciting this affirmation, we might overlook the most important word in relation to our fellow human beings: Shema – listen. Listening is part of our Jewish DNA. We may do a lot of talking (and often we do), but the Shema indicates that listening is at least as important as expressing ourselves.
Key to listening effectively is to practice empathy, not sympathy. When we offer sympathy, we pity, we diminish the other’s experience, we talk about ourselves, we try to fix the other or to make things better. Or worse, when someone says they’re feeling sad or angry or depressed, we don’t acknowledge their feelings at all.
Listening with empathy means sitting with the other person in their pain, enabling them to express their true feelings without judgement. With empathy, we might reflect back the other’s feelings, showing they have been heard, or we may choose to remain silent.
As my colleague, Rabbi Neil Blumofe shared, “instead of ‘don’t just stand there, say something’, think ‘don’t just say something, stand there’.”
Our listening presence is perhaps the greatest gift we can give to another who is suffering. Empathy goes beyond merely hearing the words.
We learn in Pirkei Avot (6:8) that we acquire Torah through attentive listening and an understanding heart. In doing we can share their burden, making it lighter.
And each time we find ourselves slipping into judgement, wishing our friend would “lighten up” we should remember that like us, they too are made in God’s image – b’tselem Elokim – and deserve the care, respect and empathetic listening that we would want, were we in their shoes.
