Spirituality, Religious Wisdom, and the Care of the Patient

Love and the Care of the Patient

Rabbi J. Rolando Matalon
roly@bj.org

Rolando Matalon is the Rabbi for Congregation B'nai Jeshurun on Manhattan's Upper West Side. Rabbi Matalon was born in Buenos Aires and was studying chemistry when his friend and teacher, the late Rabbi Marshall T. Meyer, recognized his religious gift. He enrolled at the Seminario Rabinico Latinoamericano in Buenos Aires, founded by Rabbi Meyer, and continued his studies for the rabbinate at the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, receiving his Master of Hebrew Letters in 1986. He then joined Rabbi Meyer on the pulpit at B'nai Jeshurun in 1987. Together they transformed what was a dying congregation into one the largest and most vibrant synagogues in the country, with an inclusive approach to liturgy and community and dedicated to interfaith cooperation. Rabbi Matalon has shown a deep commitment to the causes of peace, social justice, and Jewish study and has received awards from the New York Board of Rabbis and the Jewish Peace Fellowship.

Judaism presents two modes of religious experience, love and reverential awe (or fear). The Torah commands love of our fellow, love of the stranger, love of God.  Over the past 2000 years, Biblical exegetes have addressed the following questions regarding these Torah obligations: Can love be commanded? Is not love a passion and thus independent of the will? What does "love your fellow as yourself" mean?

A second century debate among the rabbis is recorded in the Talmud. Which is the greatest biblical principle, the one from which all others emanate? For Rabbi Akiva it is the commandment to love your fellow as yourself. For the sage Ben Azzai it is that all humans are created in God's image. Ben Azzai's valuation implies that we must treat the other with care and dignity regardless of whether we love him/her. Over the ensuing centuries, commentators have adopted variations on one or the other of these two positions.

Maimonides in 12th century Spain saw the commandment to love as an ideal for which we strive. Even if we do not feel love for our fellow, though, he suggested, we can be commanded to perform acts of love, treating others as we would if we did truly care for their well-being. Nahmanides in 13th century Spain understood the commandment to love one's fellow (neighbor) to mean that whatever I wish for myself I wish for my fellow. Malbim in 19th century Eastern Europe argued instead that you should love your fellow with the same kind of love, not necessarily the same degree, as you love yourself.

In my own experience in a chaplaincy student internship, I recall the first time I walked into an ICU to visit a dying patient. I was uncomfortable and fearful. The chaplain who was supervising me noticed my discomfort and reticence. He taught me a lesson that has always stayed with me: "Make an effort to see beyond the tubes, the cables, the bandages. That human being lying there in front of you is God's image." If I felt fearful, how much more so did the patient. To love your fellow as yourself in the setting of patient care is an act of empathy. It means to love your fellow "who is like yourself."

In practice, Jewish law reflects a hierarchy of values in which the commandment to save a life, Pikuah nefesh, precedes the requirement to love. While the inner quality to our actions is important, it is the deed itself takes precedence. According to Maimonides, it is better if the mitzvah of tzedakah (charity) is performed with love, but it is still an obligation even if it not performed with love. For the physician or nurse, Judaism requires efforts to rescue the patient's dignity even when the patient is off-putting, or difficult to relate to. The main task of the caregiver is still "to save a life", even when all efforts to awaken love and positive feelings fail. Performing a mitzvah is the very act of loving God and loving fellow. In the words of Abraham Joshua Heschel, "by doing the finite we come into contact with the infinite."

How then do we avoid the routinization of patient care? How do we fan the flames of love as we discharge our daily responsibilities? We do so by reminding ourselves of the awesomeness of the task that has been entrusted to us. We do so by re-connecting to the idea of profession as vocation. When physicians and nurses heal, they become extensions of God's healing power. In healing one become a messenger of God.

Harvey Cox, "The Role of Love in the Treatment of the Patient: A Protestant View"
Love: Introduction
Table of Contents

Published: September 6, 2002