Genie, You're Safe Here
Yom Kippur - 5775
One of the great blessings bestowed upon my life was that I was born in 1989 - the first year of the Disney Renaissance. So luckily, I grew up on some of Disney’s finest animation. Of their amazing work during those ten years, my all time favorite is Aladdin (I hear your arguments for The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and The Lion King). I loved Aladdin and Jasmine and Abu and Rajah and the Sultan and Iago. But the character that made Aladdin my favorite was the Genie.
The Genie was majestic. He was big and blue, loud and proud. He was honest; he told you when you were wrong. He was encouraging; he told you when you did a good job. He was supportive; he lifted you up when you needed a boost. He was caring; his concerns were your concerns. He was funny. The Genie was the moral compass of the movie. He was the embodiment of wisdom and laughter to a generation of kids, just like myself.
On August 11th, 2014, Robin Williams - the magical voice of the Genie - lost his battle with depression. He could not overcome the darkness he fought for much of his life. The paralyzing depths of depression took hold of one of the brightest minds of our time and would not let go.
During my 26 years of life, no person has made me laugh as much as Robin Williams. From Good Morning, Vietnam to Mrs. Doubtfire, from Aladdin to Patch Adams, from Mork & Mindy to The Birdcage. Not to mention his stand up. Not to mention Dead Poets Society or Good Will Hunting or Jakob the Liar. Robin Williams’ masterful career has impacted my life, and I'm sure many of yours, in profound ways.
And thus, I cried when I heard the tragic news of his death. I cried because the man whose life will forever bring a smile to my face, was, himself, in the utmost depths of sadness. I cried because he could not overcome the sickness, the disease, the demon that is depression.
Just hours before Robin Williams took his life, he sent an inspirational video to a young woman in New Zealand who had terminal cancer. One thing on her bucket list was to meet Robin Williams, and Robin made sure to put a smile of her face before he left us.
I share this story because despite carrying a terrible burden, Robin Williams’ last hours were spent thinking of others, uplifting others, making others smile. His final legacy, albeit a small act of kindness, was one of tremendous love, tremendous humility, tremendous care.
Depression is not a character flaw. It is not a funk that someone can snap out of. Nor does it negate the inherent good in people nor make them less respectable. Depression is one of a number of mental health disorders that the World Health Organization estimates 350 million people struggle with. The National Institute of Mental Health estimates that more than 1 in 4 Americans ages 18 and older suffer from a diagnosable mental disorder. If you are struggling with depression or panic or anxiety or bipolar disorder or schizophrenia or any darkness that is keeping you from being you, you need to know that you are not alone. You don’t need to suffer in silence. There is no shame or embarrassment, no shortcomings or flaws. There are ways to treat it, ways to combat it, and you don’t have to do it alone. You are not alone. Don’t bear the burden yourself. Reach out to your family, your friends, your rabbi. Allow us to share it with you, to offer help in any way that we can.
If there is anything we can learn from the passing of Robin Williams, let it be that the stigmas and taboos associate with depression and mental illness need to be deconstructed. A conversation that was already gaining momentum is now front and center, bringing those who need help out of their personal, paralyzing depths, out of their lonely silence, into the arms and support of those who love them, those who are here to support them in any way possible.
Judaism has long wrestled with mental illness. King Saul struggled with it in the 10th century, as recorded in 1 Samuel (1 Samuel 18:10-12). King David faked mental illness to escape danger, which suggests that mental illness was familiar in David’s day (1 Samuel 21:11-16). After the destruction of the temple, the rabbis struggled with the impact of mental illness in daily life, specifically in relationships and marriages.
The Religious Action Center, writes that:
“Jewish tradition is concerned with the health and well-being of the mind… In the traditional mi she-beirakh prayer for the sick, we pray for a refuah sheleimah-a complete recovery-which includes both refuat ha-nefesh u'refuat haguf, a healing of the soul and the body. Judaism acknowledges a distinction between mental and physical health. However, tradition treats them on an equal plane, recognizing that both a healthy body and a healthy mind are necessary for human beings to be complete.”
Moreover, our Jewish tradition teaches that all human beings were creation in the image of God, b’tzelem elohim (Genesis 1:27). This is a uniting thread throughout all of humanity, burdened or free, sick or healthy. Every person in our world has a divine reflection, worthy of our compassion and respect.
This morning, I read a portion from Deuteronomy in which God is addressing every one in Israel, men women and children. It reads:
“I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day that I have set before you life or death, blessing or curse; choose life, therefore, that you and your descendants may live — by loving the Lord your God, listening to God’s voice, and holding fast to the One who is your life and the length of your days.” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)
As we know, God’s command to choose life is not always an easy choice. Mental illness turns life on its head and creates a world in which words and sense lose all meaning, where pain and trauma know no bounds and there are no formulaic fixes.
One Jewish tradition that can be applied to mental illness originates as an explanation of creation. Isaac Luria, a revolutionary Kabbalistic thinker, explained creation through three elements: Tzimtzum - contraction, Shevirat HaKelim - the shattering of the vessels, and Tikkun -repair. Tzimtzum describes the first step by which God began the process of creation: God withdrew, condensed, contracted, by retreating from Godself into Godself in order to create a space for creation to begin. The second element is Shevirat HaKelim - the shattering of the vessels - which explains that, after the Tzimtzum - the contraction, God created vessels (HaKelim) in the empty space, and when God began to pour Divine Light into the vessels they were not strong enough to hold the power of God's Light and they shattered (Shevirat). The third element, Tikkun, is the gathering of the sparks of God's Light that were absorbed into the shards of the shattered vessels.
These three ideas originally used to explain creation - Tzimtzum/Contraction, Sheviray HaKelim/Shattering of the Vessels, and Tikkun/Repair - can be applied to mental health and offer profound inspiration for dealing with mental health.
First, Tzimtzum/contraction. Sometimes we need to take a step back, either as someone with a mental health problem or as someone who cares about someone with a mental health problem. Tzimtzum, in some ways, is an act of humility, an act of retreating in order to assess the situation, devise a plan, and start putting one foot in front of the other.
Second, Shvirat Hakelim/The Broken Vessels, is a powerful image in discussing mental health: God’s creation - us - is shattered, broken, in limbo, though still full of Divine light. Which brings us to our third and final step, Tikkun/Repair. Though God’s vessels shattered, we have the ability to repair them. Tikkun is a uniquely human endeavor, in which our contemplative actions help repair the vessels and collect the Divine sparks that were lost in the initial shattering.
On Yom Kippur, we struggle with the idea of repairing our shattered selves, and seeking for ways to support those in our community who are struggling to repair themselves. What does is it mean to repair ourselves? What does it mean to support those in need? How do our prayers and repentance throughout the High Holy Days play a role in our lives when we leave this synagogue? How can we collect the Divine sparks that were lost somewhere along the way?
One of the simplest ways is to embrace ourselves and the amount of change and growth we are capable of; and to embrace those around us with that same kindness and compassion.
Another way is to ask for help if you need it and know that this amazing community will be here to support you. The Reform Movement has multiple resources and literature to help anyone in need.
In Aladdin, the Genie takes the form of a bee and whispers advice in Aladdin’s ear to help woo Jasmine. He says: “Beee-eeee-eee yourself.” So this year, be yourself. Embrace yourself. As Robin Williams said, “'You're only given a little spark of madness. If you lose that, you're nothing."
"We don't know what the next man's going through, wish I could say it in a plainer way.
I said we don't know, life reminds me of Robin Williams; we've got to laugh the pain away."
Robin Williams by Cee Lo Green
Notes from Facebook Conversation
After Robin Williams passed, the Academy tweeted this:
Genie, you're free. pic.twitter.com/WjA9QuuldD
— The Academy (@TheAcademy) August 12, 2014My wonderful friend Rebecca pointed out the controversy of using the image above, because, frankly, suicide does not free. Which is exactly why I changed the title of this post to, "Genie, You're Safe Here." I intended for the title to reflect the idea of this sermon to build safe communities in which people are free to be themselves and ask for help without fear of judgment. For more reading on this controversy, check out Psychology Today, The Daily Beast and Washington Post articles.
Adapted from 5775/2014 Yom Kippur sermon delivered at Congregation Gates of Prayer in New Iberia, Louisiana.