The Community Prescription
I have a special friend, Rabbi Noah Chesis, who, in addition to being a talented rabbi, is a wonderful therapist. For a time he worked at the VA, the Department of Veterans Affairs. He helped young men who served in America’s recent wars, many of whom struggle with PTSD. These soldiers had difficult experiences abroad and are trying to settle back into ordinary life. It is a tough transition. He told me there is one prescription he gives many of his patients: community.
What does that mean?
He tells them to attach themselves to a community. They need a place where their contributions matter, where they are missed when they are absent, where their investment counts, and where there are people they can help.
Being part of a community, he finds, has great healing power. We need to be part of a social network. We need to receive good and to give good to others. That itself is part of the healing.
Witnessing the Impact of Community
We witnessed this over these past months, culminating in yesterday’s funeral for our beloved friend, David Kaszowitz.
David and Naomi came from families steeped in community. David’s father, Gabe, had his funeral in the White Shul, where he served as president and in many other capacities. Naomi’s father, Arnold, had his funeral in the Young Israel of Oceanside, where he too served as president and in many other capacities.
It was no surprise, then, that David and Naomi were involved in every community they joined. David served the Young Israel of Lawrence-Cedarhurst as gabbai, baal koreh, baal makri, vice president and president, among other things. Yesterday, his funeral was held in shul as well.
What was remarkable about David was not only his keen shul sense but his commitment to community. When he found friends, he stuck with them through thick and thin. When he joined a shul, he rolled up his sleeves and jumped right in. When somebody needed something, he showed up. When someone was sick, he kept visiting. When chesed shel emes was needed, he was there. When someone was homebound, he leined the Megillah for them. When there was a chance to volunteer, he stepped up. David and Naomi have always been quintessential community people.
Throughout his terrifying illness, people were there for him too. In the middle of the night or the middle of the day, for a distraction, a conversation or a drive to the doctor, everyone stepped in for him and Naomi. The hospital was a revolving door of visitors. Whenever I visited, it seemed half the community was walking in while the other half was walking out.
David’s levaya in New York filled the shul wall to wall with hundreds upon hundreds of people. His levaya in Israel drew hundreds more, a testament to a man dedicated to community.
One of the many lessons I learned this past week and these past months is the exceptional blessing of belonging to something bigger than oneself. The whole is far greater than the sum of its parts.
I echo Rabbi Chesis’s prescription. I prescribe community for everyone.