My eldest brother Motti holds the title of Chief Surgeon in Hasharon Hopital in Israel. My earliest memories of him swirl around a skull in his bedroom and rigorous studying. Since the day he was born he dreamed of a medical career. Living in South Africa afforded him the opportunity to play doctor in his teenage years - his Saturday night partying consisted of trips to the rural Baragwaneth Hospital to stitch up patients. Finally after fifteen years of studying, he made it and is now an orthopaedic hand surgeon.
This week he related an incredible story. An eighty four year old patient arrived for his consultation. After assessing and diagnosing him, Motti concluded in his usual manner by stating that medicine can only do so much. The real cure is much more reliable - using the hand to don Tefillin.
This man was born in Europe to a Chassidic family. World War Two broke out when he was just a boy. At the age of twelve he was hauled to Dachau concentration camp where his entire family perished. Many miracles later, he arrived in Israel where has led a secular life ever since. In all his sixty five years living in the Holy Land, not once had he put on Tefillin. But he decided today would be the day. His eyes welled with tears as he recited the blessing, for this was in actual fact his Bar-mitzva.
The Talmud states that one who has never performed the mitzva of Tefillin is called a ‘karkafta’. My brother likes to think of himself as the official Orthopaedic Hand Surgeon Shliach of the Rebbe in accordance with the Rebbe’s advice to doctors, “I am sure that you follow the practice of many G‑d fearing doctors, in advising patients who seek your advice regarding a health problem that it is appropriate to also effect a healing of the soul…” To a patient the Rebbe once wrote, "It is clear that a physical ailment needs to be treated by improving one's spiritual health as well. When one improves the vitality of the soul, this has the effect of improving the vitality of the body and aids in the effectiveness of the medical treatment…"
This week’s Torah portion tells us וְרַפֹּא יְרַפֵּא- “And he will surely heal.” The Talmud derives from these words that a doctor is given special permission by G-d to heal. [Many doctors have a difficult time processing this, as the old saying goes, “The difference between G-d and a doctor is that G-d doesn’t think He’s a doctor.”] G-d has gifted our generation with the wondrous secrets of medical technology. But let us not for one moment forget where true salvation stems, for as much as medicine may accomplish, G-d accomplishes more.
Almost every day I hear the same question from my four year old daughter. When am I turning five? I want to be five already! And every time she asks, I patiently answer her that her birthday is a long way away. It’s after Purim and before Pesach, and so she keeps demanding when Purim is and when Pesach is. Recently my friend celebrated his 42nd birthday. I wanted to honour him with a Kiddush in our shul and a party, but he refused. He explained that as he was still single he wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of aging by a year. He prefers to stay young.
This morning as I dashed through my building’s lobby to drop the kids off at school, I witnessed something sensational. A mother was leading her son, maybe six or seven years old, to her car. Only she couldn’t hold his hands as they were both occupied with his video game, as was the rest of his tiny body. I stared unabashed at this entranced child, oblivious to his surroundings, with only the sound of his mother’s voice connecting him to the outside world. When he knocked into a pillar I was certain he’d snap out of it, but he simply continued walking as if nothing had happened. I mean, I know video games are fantastic, but I think on anyone’s scale this case rates somewhat extreme.