GOOD MORNING! A very close friend of mine travelled to Israel last week with a group of friends and relatives to give moral support to those suffering adverse effects from Israel’s war with Hamas. They plan on visiting army bases to meet with soldiers coming off the front lines in Gaza, traveling to hospitals to spend time with the injured and ill, and generally spreading some good cheer to those affected by the war.

When he first conveyed his interest in going my immediate reaction was a negative one. War tourism is nothing new, and while there are many reasons people travel to past and current war zones they often are not admirable ones.

Additionally, I lived in Israel during the Yom Kippur war and I well remember the overall cloud of tension that hung in the air in Jerusalem (where I lived); it was suffocating. Thinking back on that situation, I could not see how a group of “war tourists” would have done much to improve the environment. In fact, it seemed a little macabre.

But, upon further reflection, I realized that visiting with those affected by these literal life and death experiences, and doing what you can to strengthen them and show them that they are not alone, is actually a laudable reason to travel. In particular, visiting those in hospitals suffering from the deleterious effects of the war and meeting with their families to provide moral and other support, could be a very meaningful and spiritually fulfilling experience.

The Torah obligation of visiting the sick, known as bikur cholim, falls under the category gemilut hasadim, doing acts of lovingkindness. Fulfilling this mitzvah, commandment, involves tending to both the physical and spiritual needs of those who are ill, and doing what we can to assuage their ailments. In fact, in this week’s Torah reading we have one of the classic examples. But there are different types of bikur cholim and in this week’s column I want to explore some of them.

Of course, this reminds me of a joke.

A man went to the hospital to visit his mother-in-law, who was in serious condition. On the way home he called his worried wife who asks: “So, honey, how’s my mom doing?”

He replies, “After speaking to her doctors it seems that she’s actually in good health! In fact, it seems that they think she will live for many years, and perhaps even next week she will be released from the hospital and will come and live with us! So, you should probably ready the guest room for her.”

“Wow that’s amazing!” Says his wife, “But it’s very strange, dear. When I saw her yesterday she seemed to be on her deathbed, and the doctors said she only had a few days to live!”

“Well, I don’t know how she was yesterday,” he replies, “But today, when I arrived at the hospital, the doctor told me that we should prepare for the worst!”

Did you ever wonder why the custom is to say, “God bless you” when someone sneezes, but not when they cough or burp or (okay, I’ll stop here)?

It is actually quite remarkable that it is a worldwide custom to wish one good health or God’s blessing upon hearing them sneeze. In Hebrew the expression is “labriyut – to your health” and similarly in Spanish it’s “salud,” while in German and Yiddish it’s some version of “gezundheit!” What is the reason for this global phenomenon surrounding the act of sneezing?

There is a fascinating passage in the Talmud that is related to this week’s Torah portion. In this week’s Torah reading we find:

“And it came to pass that Joseph was told, ‘Your father has fallen ill.’ He (went to see his father and) took with him his two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim” (Genesis 48:1).

The Talmud (Bava Metzia 87a) comments on this verse, and informs us of an intriguing fact: “Until the time of Jacob there was no feebleness preceding one’s death. Jacob came along and prayed for God’s mercy and the feebleness that generally precedes death came into the world.”

In other words, before Jacob people would die suddenly and without warning. Jacob prayed that the Almighty allow a person to sense that their death was approaching and therefore give man the opportunity to put his affairs in order before his death.

This was particularly important to Jacob because he wanted to gather his children around him and give them parting words when his death was imminent. One of the reasons for this was that there was a bit of criticism he wanted to level at some of his children, and he only wanted to do it when he was on his deathbed (I have explained his reason for this in prior columns.) In fact, Moses learned this lesson from Jacob and did the same, he waited until the final days of his life to give the Jewish people his final criticisms.

Of course, if there was no weakening before one’s death, this begs the following question: Before Jacob’s time how did people just die suddenly? In other words, what was this process of death?

There is a rather obscure Midrash (an ancient collection of Biblical interpretations from Talmudic times) known as “Pirkei D’Rebi Eliezer – The Chapters of Rabbi Eliezer.” This work, a collection of some 54 chapters of history primarily dealing with the Book of Genesis, is at least 1200 years old and may even be closer to 2000 years old.

In it (chapter 52) we find an elaboration on the above stated passage in the Talmud:

“From the day that heaven and earth were created, no one was ever sick; if one was on the road or in the marketplace, he would sneeze, and his soul would leave by way of his nostrils. Until our forefather Jacob prayed to God about this, saying: ‘Master of all worlds! Don’t take my soul from me before I have the opportunity to give instructions to my children and my household.’ God agreed with him, as the verse says: ‘After these events, Joseph was told, ‘Behold, your father is ill.’’ All of the peoples of the world heard of this and were amazed, since nothing like this had happened since heaven and earth were created.”

Accordingly, the Midrash concludes, we wish life to someone who sneezes, since it used to represent the onset of one’s death. Oddly enough, there is an involuntary reflex to close one’s eyes when sneezing and it is one of those scientific mysteries that doesn’t have a real conclusive answer as to why the body does that. I have often wondered if the two concepts were related.

Still, one might wonder why sneezing was chosen as the process for the onset of death?

When God created man the Torah states: “And God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; thus, man became a living soul” (Genesis 2:7). As man’s soul entered through his nostrils, one may venture to conclude that it is perhaps only natural that a person should return his soul to his Maker in a reversal of this process; thus, a sneeze. Then Jacob came along and prayed that the process of death be elongated and involve a declination of the body itself.

So, in the Book of Genesis we find two versions of visiting the sick; 1) When the Almighty goes to visit Abraham after his circumcision and 2) when Joseph takes his two sons to visit his father Jacob who had taken ill prior to his death.

These two examples of bikur cholim – visiting the sick – have two distinct proposes that are unique to each. In the first example, when the Almighty goes to visit Abraham, He is going there to strengthen and rejuvenate his spirit, and this is a fundamental component of the infirm being set on a path of returning to one’s former good health.

But there is another example of bikur cholim, where the person is terminally ill, and in all likelihood, not going to recover. A person visiting the infirm in this situation has to be cognizant of the larger issues at play. That visit becomes a recognition of the impact the person has made on this earth and the legacy he leaves behind. This is why Joseph brings his two sons to meet with his father and receive Jacob’s final blessing to them.

When fulfilling the mitzvah of bikur cholim it’s necessary to understand that it’s not simply about showing up in the room with the person who is sick. It is important to consider why you are going and what it is that you are trying to accomplish with your visit. In this way we can really help the person we are visiting – and it is only in this way that we properly fulfill the obligation of bikur cholim.

Vayechi, Genesis 47:28 - 50:26

The parsha, Torah portion, opens with Jacob on his deathbed 17 years after arriving in Egypt. Jacob blesses Joseph’s two sons, Manasseh (Menashe) and Ephraim (to this day it is a tradition to bless our sons every Shabbat evening with the blessing, “May the Almighty make you like Ephraim and Manasseh” because they grew up in the Diaspora amongst foreign influences and still remained devoted to the Torah. The Shabbat evening blessing for girls is “to be like Sarah, Rivka, Rachel, and Leah”). He then individually blesses each of his sons. The blessings are prophetic and give reproof, where necessary.

A large retinue from Pharaoh’s court accompanies the family to Hebron to bury Jacob in the Ma’arat Hamachpela, the burial cave purchased by Abraham. The Torah portion ends with the death of Joseph and his binding the Israelites to bring his remains with them for burial when they are redeemed from slavery and go to the Land of Israel. Thus ends the book of Genesis!