SPONSOR FOR THIS WEEK'S KIDDUSH
JACOBO & CLARA FRIDZON & FAMILY IN HONOR OF THE SHLOSHIM OF JACOBO'S FATHER, FICHEL BEN YAACOV OBM.

SPONSOR FOR THIS SEUDAT SHLISHIT
LUNA TETNER, AS A SEUDAT HODA'AH, IN GRATITUDE TO HASHEM FOR THE MIRACULOUS SURVIVAL OF HER DEAR DAUGHTERS, DEBORAH, MIRIAM & RACHEL AND HER GRANDDAUGHTER, SARA.

Date                              Time

Friday, Sep. 3, 2010       Light Candles at: 7:21 PM

Shabbat, Sep. 4, 2010   Shabbat Ends at: 8:12 PM

THE AVENTURA ERUV IS UP!

NOW WATERWAYS VILLAGE INCLUDED!

(9-3-10)

EXCLUDING THE FOLLOWING BUILDINGS:

1.- MYSTIC POINTE

2.- HIDDEN BAY

3.- ONE ISLAND PLACE

4.- ONE ISLAND WAY

The Healer's Guilty Conscience

Question of the Week:

I work in the line of healing and unfortunately a patient of mine just passed away. I feel as though it was my fault, because though I did all I could, I didn't save her. This is the first time I have experienced this, and was wondering, does Judaism have any insight on dealing with the guilt of losing a patient?

Answer:

There is a paradox at the heart of all caring professions. This paradox applies to all those who deal with people's real life problems, such as rabbis, doctors, therapists and manicurists.

On the one hand, to help someone you have to actually care for them. It is not possible to truly understand someone's problem if you don't attempt to connect with them, enter their world and see things from their perspective. This means not being clinical and cold, but getting somewhat emotionally involved with the person you are helping.

But at the same time, you can't help someone if you are too involved with them. There is a certain detachment necessary to be able to see the situation clearly. Only by staying removed from the person can you maintain perspective and be able to help.

So there's the paradox. I can't help you if I don't connect with you, and I can't help you unless I am detached.

The skill of true caring is the skill of switching between these two states. You listen to the problem with empathy and sincere feeling. You then diagnose and advise with total objectivity and clarity of mind. When listening you enter their shoes, when responding you go back to your own shoes. You first have to identify with the problem, but then you must dissociate from it to help find the solution.

This can be exhausting. But it is vital, not only for the patient, but also for you. You can't survive emotionally if you personally take on board every problem of every person you meet. You need to be able to sleep at night, be there for your own family, and function as a normal person. You can't do this while bearing the burden of the world on your shoulders. You need to learn to step back.

Time and experience will teach you this skill. You just had your first lesson.

You did all you could to help this patient. The patient died. This is a tragedy, and you are right to feel it. But you are not a part of the tragedy. You were part of making her life more comfortable. In the end, you are no more than an emissary of G-d, sent to bring healing wherever you can. Life and death are not in your hands. All you can do is try to bring hope and meaning to the lives of those around you.

He time to leave this world had come. She was blessed to have you there to support her for her onward journey

The Parshah of Nitzavim includes some of the most fundamental principles of the Jewish faith:

The unity of Israel: "You stand today, all of you, before the L-rd your G-d: your heads, your tribes, your elders, your officers, and every Israelite man; your young ones, your wives, the stranger in your gate; from your wood hewer to your water drawer."

The future redemption: Moses warns of the exile and desolation of the Land that will result if Israel abandons G-d's laws, but then he prophesies that, in the end, "You will return to the L-rd your G-d... If your outcasts shall be at the ends of the heavens, from there will the L-rd your G-d gather you... and bring you into the Land which your fathers have possessed."

The practicality of Torah: "For the Mitzvah which I command you this day, it is not beyond you nor is it remote from you. It is not in heaven... It is not across the sea.... Rather, it is very close to you, in your mouth, in your heart, that you may do it."

Freedom of choice: "I have set before you life and goodness, and death and evil; in that I command you this day to love G-d, to walk in His ways and to keep His commandments... Life and death I have set before you, blessing and curse. And you shall choose life."

The Parshah of Vayelech (“And He Went”) recounts the events on Moses’ last day of earthly life. “I am one hundred and twenty years old today,” he says to the people, “and I can no longer go forth and come in.” He transfers the leadership to Joshua, and writes (or concludes writing) the Torah in a scroll which he entrusts to the Levites for safekeeping in the Ark of the Covenant.

The mitzvah of Hak’hel (“Gather”) is given: every seven years, during the festival of Sukkot of the first year of the shemittah cycle, the entire people of Israel -- men, women and children -- should gather at the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, where the king should read to them from the Torah.

Vayelech concludes with the prediction that the people of Israel will turn away from their covenant with G-d causing Him to hide His face from them, but also with the promise that the words of the Torah “shall not be forgotten out of the mouths of their descendants.”