The following was written and delivered on Friday, February 4 at Agudas Achim Congregation in Alexandria, VA in observance of Disability Inclusion Shabbat. As this year the focus is mental health and I had previously spoken from the bimah about my struggles with mental health, I was asked to speak again, this time on Friday evening.
Shabbat Shalom!
Some of you probably already know this one:
How many therapists does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one. But the light bulb really has to want to change.
I heard this joke several years ago. And I was going to go right into an allegory with this week’s Torah portion that has something to do with it. But as I was writing, I made the mistake of Googling “How many therapists does it take to change a light bulb?” and I found an entire page of jokes about mental health professionals and light bulbs.
With punchlines like: Why does the light bulb necessarily have to change?
and
How many do you think it takes?
There are even jokes about different types of therapists:
How many New Age therapists does it take to change a lightbulb?
Just one, but it would be more appropriate for the therapist to help the lightbulb appreciate the beauty of staying exactly as it is.
How many psychoanalysts does it take to change a lightbulb?
Only one, but it takes time….a very very long time in fact.
How many Rogerian therapists does it take to change a lightbulb?
I hear you wanting to know how many Rogerian therapists it takes to change a lightbulb.
There are a whole lot of punchlines here. But the theme of many of them — and especially the first one — is the will to change. Really wanting to take initiative for oneself and one’s own well-being. It’s not about changing the light bulb, but rather about the light bulb changing.
This week’s Torah portion, Parshat Terumah, is very technical in nature. It doesn’t mention lightbulbs, but it does provide instructions on how to manufacture the menorah made of gold to be placed in the Mishkan, the Tabernacle. In fact, it only begins to provide a set of instructions to build the Mishkan with every intricate detail. To create this Holy place for G-d, as prescribed by G-d, and relayed by Moses to Bnei Yisrael, the People of Israel.
G-d tells Moshe:
דַּבֵּר֙ אֶל־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל — Instruct the People of Israel:
וְיִקְחוּ־לִ֖י תְּרוּמָ֑ה — You should take — for me — a gift.
מֵאֵ֤ת כׇּל־אִישׁ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יִדְּבֶ֣נּוּ לִבּ֔וֹ — From all those who want to give because their hearts move them,
תִּקְח֖וּ אֶת־תְּרוּמָתִֽי׃ — Take for me, my gift.
It’s an interesting way of putting it: This is not G-d dictating people pay a tax of some sort. Instead, the onus is on the people: וְיִקְחוּ־לִ֖י תְּרוּמָ֑ה “Take something you have, for me.” Really think about your own inventory. מֵאֵ֤ת כׇּל־אִישׁ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יִדְּבֶ֣נּוּ לִבּ֔וֹ But just from people whose heart tells them to. In other words, G-d wants this to be voluntary and deliberate. G-d wants the people to give only if they’re ready, and whenever they’re ready.
And it’s no wonder that this is the approach. The people of Israel have just left the trauma of slavery only a few chapters back. They were mandated to give of themselves to the Pharaoh, their ruler. But G-d released them from this — only to make them do it again? No. In this case, G-d makes this a choice. For those whose heart tells them to give this Terumah, this gift.
The next few passages talk about what gifts would be accepted: precious metals and precious stones, animal hides, textiles, wood, oil and spices. All of which were the ingredients to build the Mishkan, a Tabernacle for G-d that the people will build. In essence — if you find it in your heart to do so, give what you can, and do what you can, when you can.
It can be easy to slide into a thought spiral where you look at what everyone else is giving and what everyone else is doing. And then being critical of oneself for not giving and doing the same way as others. It’s important to remember that we all have our own unique experiences. Upbringings, brain chemistry, coping strategies, and interactions. And at times, that means giving of oneself differently.
This Shabbat we usher in Jewish Disability Awareness, Acceptance & Inclusion Month. A time when we can reflect on what our own Jewish communities provide, and what we can do better. A time when we can look at all of us and realize that we may have very similar goals but might have different needs in getting us there. A time when we can celebrate the different gifts and different actions we all can offer when we have the opportunities to do so.
This year the Agudas Achim Disability Inclusion Committee is focusing on mental health issues in the Jewish community and the community at large. And it’s crucial that we recognize that our unique experiences also bring unique challenges and opportunities regarding our own mental health and that of the other members of our community.
I’ve spoken from the Bimah in the past about living with anxiety and depression and Attention Deficit Disorder. I spoke about my bouts with suicidal ideation and how difficult it had been for me to finally ask for help, which I’m so happy I did. Being able to speak about it helps to put mental health in the light, and to show everyone that we can have conversations about mental health — and how our own uniqueness shapes so much of how we live our lives and continue to move forward. It has been rewarding and empowering for me to have these conversations, and I’m so grateful that I was given this chance to do so.
Tomorrow, Jada Bromberg is going to speak from the Bimah about her experiences with her own mental health conditions and her advocacy work to destigmatize conversations and stories about mental health. She has worked with a wonderful organization called This Is My Brave, a means for people living with mental health conditions to tell their own stories. And telling these stories is crucial for our community to understand that mental health conditions are not something be fearful of. It’s something that can be discussed out loud. And it’s something that we can celebrate as we find our healthy coping mechanisms that have allowed us to succeed.
“This Is My Brave.” It is bravery. Because so many people have developed attitudes and assumptions about mental health conditions that perpetuate a dangerous stigma. That those of us with mental health conditions, for example, are more susceptible to violence. A stigma that often relegates us as less competent. And one which can isolate intensely and quickly. Destigmatizing initiatives like “This Is My Brave” and the presentations that Jada and other have been doing … help. They help others understand. They help others open up about their own mental health. They save lives.
As a community, we have an obligation — to talk about mental health in a way that doesn’t stigmatize, but rather empowers. To be patient with people who may have different experiences, different strategies to look and move forward, and different psychological energy levels. To be grateful to include everyone who can provide different gifts that they can give of themselves when they are ready to give them.
We have an obligation to make sure our community has resources available so people who need them don’t need to build up the strength to ask, anxious that it will just isolate them.
We should strive to look beyond ourselves — and discover how we can help the community include rather than separate. It will take our own energy to do so, but in the end it helps to create an environment which — like the lightbulb — really wants to change for the better.
The page of lightbulb jokes — it has two more I want to share:
How many social workers does it take to change a light bulb?
None. They empower the bulb to change itself.
How many social workers does it take to change a light bulb?
It’s not the bulb that needs to change, it’s the system.
Let’s use our energy to empower and include everyone.
And let’s use our energy to change our community for the better.
Let that be a gift you can provide — should your heart tell you to. Whenever you’re ready.
Shabbat Shalom.
