By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

I’m not particularly interested in the British royal family. Since most of their actions have no impact on my life, I rarely read about them. (And, no, I did not watch any of their weddings or the coronation.) Their family arguments are none of my business; I believe even public figures have the right to a private life. However, I admit to being shocked by the announcement that Princess Kate had been diagnosed with cancer. Why? Because it seemed that by virtue of her status, youth and beauty that nothing bad could happen to her. Of course, that’s pure nonsense: life can throw anyone a curve ball regardless of their wealth or status.

Sometimes that curve ball is a car accident that leaves someone physically or mentally disabled. Sometimes just being in the wrong place at the wrong time results in death or severe disability. A perfectly healthy person can drop dead unexpectedly or discover at a routine doctor’s appointment they have a terminal illness. Then there are events like those that occurred on October 7 in Israel when far too many people were killed or taken hostage by Hamas.
Some people feel that those events are preordained or have a hidden meaning if we could only truly understand it. While parts of the Bible might suggest this is true, that work also includes the book of Job, which offers a very different point of view. Job is never told why so many terrible things happened to him: rather than explaining why they occurred, God basically tells him to shut up. That same idea is featured in a midrash: when Moses wonders about the fancy lettering in the Torah, God shows him Rabbi Akiva, first in a classroom and later being tortured by the Romans. When Moses asks why such a wise man was punished, God tells him to stop talking, rather than offering a real answer.

Some of you may be wondering if this discussion is going to offer a revelation that I’m suffering from an illness. I’m glad to say that (thank God) as of this moment I am not. (Please feel to add all the Yiddish phrases my mother would have said so I don’t jinx myself.) But that’s the problem, isn’t it? For everyone, all we can say is that as of this moment we are OK. Maybe I’m focusing on this because, during July, I’m scheduled for my regular biannual medical tests and, in August, a once-every-10-years colonoscopy. (Yes, thank you, I already have someone who is going to take me and make sure I get back into my house OK afterward, but I appreciate the offers that might have been coming.) 

But all this negative feeling can and should lead to something positive: the appreciation of every joy and pleasure we have in our lives. I’ve written before about stopping each week before Shabbat to note five blessings/gratitudes for that week. They aren’t always things I share because some are quiet moments that might not seem special to anyone else, but feel special to me. I experience a great many of them at my chaplaincy work with the developmentally disabled, but they are also present when I spend time with friends or see a beautiful bird outside my window. Or sit on my front porch with a book in hand. Sometimes, rather than reading, I just take a deep breath and appreciate the sheer joy of being alive. We may not know what tomorrow will bring, something that makes it that more important to appreciate every moment we have right now.