On Yom Kippur, food is not
allowed to go in your mouth. But cotton swabs are, and that’s important,
because that (along with a bit of paperwork) is how you register to become a
potential bone marrow donor.
Like many other congregations in our movement, Congregation
Beth Am is partnering with Gift of Life to try to get as
many people as possible registered in the National Marrow Donor Program. For
many who are suffering from blood cancers or certain genetic diseases, a bone
marrow or stem cell transplant is their best, or only, hope for a cure. By
registering to become a donor, you might actually save someone’s life. On the
day when we plead with God to include us in the Book of Life, we can be an
active part in keeping someone else’s name written in that book. There is,
quite simply, no higher mitzvah then this.
You might be surprised that there is no blessing for this
act of potential life-saving (although some have been written in recent years).
That’s not an oversight — in Judaism, we say many blessings, but none of those
blessings are for moral deeds. They’re all for rituals. Is that because Judaism
places a greater emphasis on ritual than it does on morality? No — it’s because
of exactly the opposite.
When we say a blessing, we are attempting to elevate an
ordinary act into a sacred one. Rather than just light a candle, I’m going to
say a blessing first. And now, this candlelighting has become a moment of
holiness. I can just eat a piece of bread, and enjoy it. Or, I can pause for
moment, say a blessing, focus on how wondrous the simple act of eating bread
can be, and thereby elevate that moment into something transcendent. Blessings
are our tool for turning the ordinary into the holy.
But, you can’t turn a moment of helping another person into
a holy moment, because it already is one.
When we register to be a bone marrow donor, or an organ donor, or when we give blood, or when we give tzedakah, or when we do any other
act, large or small, which helps another person, we are doing something which
is, inherently, holy. Trying to make it holy would be like trying to make the
ocean wet. It’s already wetter than we can ever make it. Registering to potentially
save someone’s life — that’s already holier than any words we might utter can
ever make it.
We spend so much energy in synagogue trying to connect with
the holy parts of our world. It would be an enormous shame if we missed this most
sacred opportunity—the opportunity to save someone’s life. On the holiest day
of the year, it will almost certainly be the holiest thing you will do.
G’mar Chatimah Tova—May
you be inscribed in the Book of Life.
This is my column in CBA's September Digest, hitting your mailbox soon, if you're a Congregation Beth Am member. But, I wanted to get this out today, too. You see, today, Sam Sommer is getting a Bone Marrow Transplant. Sam is the son of my dear friends Rabbis Phyllis and Michael Sommer. You can read all about him, and his fight against cancer, at SuperManSamuel.blogspot.com. May he be inscribed in the Book of Life for many, many years to come.
