Of Life and Death: A Jewish Response to Doctor Assisted Suicide
The Institute for Jewish Medical Ethics of the Hebrew Academy of San
Francisco
Reproduced with permission
According to the cover story of the July 21st New York Times Magazine, the stage is now
set for a Supreme Court decision on the legality of doctor assisted suicide. Two recent
decisions of lower Federal Courts have found it unconstitutional for states to ban this
practice, because such a ban would impinge on various rights provided by the fourteenth
amendment. In the article, entitled "The New Pro Lifers", Paul Wilkes writes
that the decision of the Supreme Court will "have a societal impact that rivals or
surpasses that of Roe vs. Wade, the 1973 decision legalizing abortion." The impact on
society is then discussed in the article by a psychiatrist, a lawyer, a secular ethicist,
a neurologist and a spokesman for the Catholic church. There is mention made of the
opinion of Orthodox Jewry which is said to be in strong opposition to assisted suicide out
of "deep religious belief and with a still fresh memory of the euthanasia of the
Holocaust."
While this statement correctly expresses the
traditional Jewish conclusion, it sheds no light on the philosophical and moral
underpinnings at its core. At a time when a subject with such great moral implications is
being hotly debated in our society, it is important for Jews to understand our own
tradition in order for us to keep our sense of identity within a culture that is tolerant
to so many diverse and, often, antagonistic points of view. In addition, the moral and
ethical ideals imparted to us by the Torah, through its Mitzvot, have relevance not only
to Jews, but also to the entire world. The Noachide Laws are meant to give the Gentile
world a morality that measures up to Divine standards, just as Jews have the 613
commandments of the Torah. As such, these laws are to be understood through the Torah's
values, as they are reflected by its attitudes on issues like the value and sanctity of
human life.
It should therefore be no wonder that Jewish
medical ethics has become a specialized area of research that is being pursued by both
Rabbis and laymen, both Doctors and patients, and yes, both Jews and Gentiles. After all,
the values of the Torah are eternal, as relevant in today's modern world as the day they
were given to Moses at Sinai.
The question of doctor assisted suicide, from a Halachic perspective, can be divided into
three separate issues. The first involves the sin of suicide. In the beginning of
B'reishit, G-d says "Only the blood from your own lives shall I demand." The
Talmud explains that this refers to the act of taking one's own life. Taking a human life
is forbidden regardless regardless whether it is ours or someone else's. The Torah has
made it clear that we do not own our own bodies any more than we own another's. Rather,
our lives were given to us by G-d for the purpose of sanctification of His Name.
In fact, as Rabbi J.D. Bleich points out in
"Jewish Bioethics", the Torah considers suicide a more tragic misdeed than
homicide, in several regards. Because of the finality of taking one's own life, there is
no opportunity left to atone for the act. Neither repentance nor the redemptive nature of
the sinner's own death can make amends for the act of suicide. Furthermore, the finality
of Dosing to end a life through a sin implies a complete disavowing of faith in an
afterlife, an important tenet of Judaism. Whereas the murderer may rationalize his evil by
temporarily denying his own mortality and delaying his conscience's call for justice, the
suicide stares death in the face, neglects his conscience permanently, and consciously
rejects any notion of accountability after death.
While everyone understands the general moral
problem of commiting suicide, the individual cases that are being argued before the courts
are of unique and extenuating circumstances; in which the Torah perspective is not as
readily perceived. Some find it emotionally difficult, for example, to accept that it is
wrong for an individual, who is suffering greatly from an incurable disease, to choose to
end their pain through opting out of life. However, it is specifically to these
individuals that the Torah is speaking. Human nature is endowed with a powerful survival
instinct, and it is therefore obvious that for someone to choose to die, they must be
suffering greatly. The Halacha reflects this reality by suspending the posthumous
punishment for Jewish suicides, allowing them to be granted burial in a Jewish cemetery.
The reasoning is that a present day suicide is almost always the act of an individual who,
because of pain, suffering and depression, is unable to think clearly and act rationally.
Those in our society who argue for the
legalization of assisted suicide maintain, on the contrary, that there are times when
suicide is the sane and appropriate course for an individual to choose. They claim that
there are some people who have so little quality of life that they are very rational in
their choosing to end it all. The concept of euthanasia, mercy killing, for example,
assumes that there are those people for whom assistance with the act of dying would be a
favor.
While the Torah is the ultimate source of human
compassion and mercy, it wisely forbids human beings to define what is merciful when it
comes to the ending of human life. There are some decisions, according to the Torah, that
can only be made by the merciful G-d who has given us life to begin with. The Talmud's
existential attitude that, "Against your will you were born, and against your will
you will die," clearly points out the need to ultimately relinquish control over our
own life and death to our Creator. The wisdom in leaving this matter up to G-d and not in
the hands of human beings, whether a doctor, the family or even the suffering individual,
can be seen by examining a society that takes a different approach.
In the Netherlands, where euthanasia with consent
of the patient is not a prosecutable offense, ethical norms have been rapidly sliding down
the slippery slope, as the lines between the patients', the doctors', the family's and
society's wishes become increasingly blurred. As Doctor Herbert Hendin, a psychiatrist
quoted in the "Times" article, has learned through his study of that country's
practices, "In many instances, it became a doctor's decision, not a patient's. And as
for hospice and palliative care for those who want to die naturally, they are relatively
low priorities in the Netherlands. After all, with assisted suicide available, who needs
them? It was almost as if you are a poor sport for not choosing it."
The last point made by Dr. Hendin, highlights the
danger of assuming that the individual's decision to kill themselves affects only them;
adopting a stance of "live and let die", so to speak. A recent panel,
commissioned by the State of New York to study the social ramifications of legalizing
assisted suicide, found that the elderly and the poor, whose situations place burdens on
society, will be the ones who would most often be given the "right" to die.
Doctors would offer this option as advice in cases where they see fit, some families would
encourage their loved one to heed the doctor's advice, and the vulnerable, suffering
individual will have nowhere to turn for support if they choose not to exercise their
"constitutional right." Not only will those who burden society with their lives
be called poor sports, but in a sense, they could be attacked as positively un-American.
Another case made for the individual's right to
choose how and when to die is the argument made for an understandable and humane wish for
"death with dignity". The experience of Iying incapacitated in a hospital bed,
stuck through with tubes and machines necessary for eating and breathing, being sick and
incoherent, is considered by many people to be an undignified situation; not one a human
being would choose to live with.
A few years ago, at the International Conference
of the Institute for Jewish Medical Ethics, Rabbi Maurice Lamm pointed out that the very
phrase "death with dignity", is an oxymoron from a Jewish point of view. The
Jewish people have been taught by our Torah that human life is, in its very essence,
dignified and that death can never be so. Death is a necessary element of the human life
cycle and sometimes may actually be a blessing for an individual in chronic pain. However,
to actively choose to die and not to experience every; moment of the dignity of humeri
life is' ultimately, an undignified act.
I was reminded of Rabbi Lamm's comments while
watching a particularly poignant scene in the movie, "Schindler's List", in
which a little boy is searching for a hiding place while the Nazis round up Jews from the
ghetto for transport to the death camps. The boy looks into a latrine, only to find
another young boy standing up to his waist in human excrement, peering up at him from his
"occupied" hiding place. The first boy continues to look elsewhere. The initial
shocking feeling the scene evokes is of the horror of the little boys having to put
themselves in such an undignified situation to survive. Upon reflection, however, one
realizes that the children intuitively understood that the life of the survivor is always
more dignified than death. It is meaningfully ironic that the inhuman Nazi forces that
sought to dehumanize and "undignify" innocent human life, were the very same
that introduced euthanasia as a concept to modern civilization.
Jews, of course, have always appreciated the
great moral victory of surviving. As a people, we have survived the horrors of pogroms and
crusades, inquisitions and holocausts. Those who chose to give up their Jewish life in
order to escape this unimaginable pain and suffering, can not be judged harshly. But
neither can we endorse and condone taking the easy way out if we are going to continue to
state the case for the Jewish concept of human dignity.
In one of the countless tales of individual
martyrdom in Jewish history, the Talmud tells the story of Reb Chanina ben Tradion's
execution at the hands of the anti-semitic Romans. While being burned alive at the stake,
wrapped in a Torah scroll, his students asked him what vision he was having. He described,
that while the Torah parchment was being consumed by the flames, he saw its letters
"floating in the air". His students, in empathetic agony, proceeded to beg their
Rabbi to inhale the noxious fumes of the smoke, in order to hasten his death and end his
suffering. He replied, "Let He who has given me (my soul) take it away, but no one
should injure himself." This answer is ultimately the last word of the Torah on the
subject of suicide. As for the vision of the Torah's letters 'floating in the air",
it beautifully symbolizes that, while suffering and persecution can wreak havoc on our
physical lives, our souls, our ideals and our capacity for love can never be destroyed.
While the individual wishing to kill themselves can be forgiven by the Halacha for giving
up hope in the meaning of his or her own life, due to their pain, suffering and
depression, the people seeking to help them kill themselves have no such excuse. The Torah
states that giving somebody bad advice, either practical or moral, or assisting them to
carry out a bad decision, is the moral equivalent of "placing a stumbling block in
front of the blind." No example comes to mind that demonstrates this concept better
than "assisted suicide." For, in reality, helping someone commit a desperate act
of hopelessness can in no way be described as real assistance.
As for relieving people's suffering, there are
ways to help them cope and to minimize their pain without killing them. Did anyone
receiving the love and care of committed family and friends, the medical care to treat
their pain, and the care of society in providing counseling and emotional support ever ask
to die? And how can we ever say that we've done enough? How do we know when a little more
love, a little more financial, emotional and moral support would not ease the mind of the
sufferer and allow them to once again find meaning and quality, in their lives? Dr.
Kathleen Foley, a pain specialist at Memorial Sloan-kettering Cancer Center in New York,
says, as quoted by the "Times", "It is a well documented fact that those
asking for assisted suicide almost always change their mind once we have their pain under
control. We undermedicate terribly in American medicine..."
Once again, the question becomes one of whom we
are really assisting by legalizing assisted suicide. Is it the vulnerable individual who
is in need of our support, or ourselves, as a society, trying to "solve" the
problem of limited resources, and the inconvenience posed by people who need tremendous
amounts of care.
The horrifying scenario described above in
reference to the findings of the New York State Commission might sound a bit imaginative
to some. However, it is only necessary to look at the proposed "Oregon plan", in
which health care would be denied to anyone above the age of 65 who is not contributing to
society, or the recent scandal involving the MENSA group of "geniuses", who
published an idea of euthanizing mentally retarded people who have "no quality of
life", to see what can happen when human beings attempt to play G-d. Especially in
our materialistic society where how much a person "is worth" is understood in
terms of their financial status, the value of an individual human life needs to be left to
G-d to decide.
It is shocking from a Jewish point of view that there are some doctors who have championed
the cause of legalizing assisted suicide, ignoring the position of most doctors as
expressed through the American Medical Association. Being a doctor, according to the
Torah, is one of the only professions in which you directly fulfill a Divine precept by
carrying out your job correctly. Physicians are seen as agents of G-d in saving human life
and relieving suffering. This is why the medical profession has historically been greatly
valued by the Jewish people, and this tradition can be seen even in today's American
Jewish culture.
However, there are times when the agent of G-d,
having been given incredible responsibility,v, is tempted to overstep the bounds of his
mission. In light of the lofty regard in which Judaism has always held the practitioners
of medicine, the following passage from the Talmud is astounding. The Gomorrah in
Kiddushin states, with no explanation, that "the good among the doctors are destined
to Hell". While obviously expressed this way for the shock value, the Gomorrah's
statement is in great need of clarification.
The Maharsha, one of the great commentaries on
Aggadic Talmud, explains that this statement is warning of the doctors who become too
proficient for their own good. As stated previously, being a doctor makes one a partner
with G-d in protecting human life. This role has a humbling effect on many medical
personalities, who realize their great responsibilities and their human limitations.
Unfortunately, it has the opposite effect on others. The Maharsha offers the example of
the expert physician who over-confidently relies on his own knowledge of medicine and
fails to consult a second opinion, thereby putting his patient's health and well-being at
unnecessary risk of a mistake. The Gemmorah is warning physicians of the grave danger in
allowing the privilege and honor of being G-d's agent to go to their heads.
There seems to be an interesting parallel between
the experience of the "suicide-doctors" and many of their patients. From a
psychological perspective, suicide can often be seen as an attempt to control a life that
is being experienced as completely out of one's control. That is, when an individual is
condemned to pain and suffering, one of the most frustrating and scary aspects of this
experience is the lack of control they have over their lives. That is why helping patients
retain some little element of control over their physical lives, such as making day to day
decisions, is often extremely important to their emotional life. Furthermore, Victor
Frankel, in "Man's Search for Meaning", in which he describes the coping
mechanisms of Holocaust survivors, explains that the ability to find meaning in a
suffering existence can alleviate to a large extent the emotional need for a sense of
control in life.
The problem remains that for those who cannot
find meaning in their lives of suffering, the loss of control often engenders a powerful
wish to actively do the one thing that can still be done to end the pain and to stop life
from pushing them around - to quit life. Unfortunately, doctors in our society are
sometimes treated like gods. Modern science and medicine have become religions in which
people look to their practitioners as they once did to their spiritual leaders. Society
thereby places enormous pressure on doctors to solve all of their problems. When doctors
face their own limitations, they experience it as a loss of control. We need to realize
that, with all of the wonderful benefits given the world by modern medicine, we will still
never be able to overcome death and make human beings immortal. Rather than doctors or
anyone else feeling hopelessly out of control and, therefore, tempted to do extreme acts
to rail against the fates, we need to understand that there actually is one way for us to
achieve immortality; by showing our allegiance to G-d, the "silent partner" in
caring for humanity, through our commitment to life, to its infinite value and to the
immortal experience of love.
History has repeatedly shown that the survival of a civilization depends on the strength
of its moral fabric. Our modern civilization, with all of its advances in science,
medicine and technology, has begun to show decline and decay in its moral and spiritual
life. With the problems we face in the areas of violent crime, drug and alcohol abuse,
hatred and intolerance of others and the breakdown of the nuclear family, there is little
reason for individuals who live in pain and suffering to want to live. We live in perhaps
the most prosperous and free society in the history of the world, yet thousands of people
still sleep in the streets of our cities and hundreds of thousands more have no medical
coverage. There is little that individuals who live in pain and suffering can count on
from our society in their time of need. Even Yale Kamisar, a civil libertarian law
professor at the University of Michigan Law School, warns (in the New York Times),
"If assisted suicide went through, we'd be providing more safeguards for criminals
picked up on the street than we would for the terminally ill."
The Torah teaches compassion, love for our fellow
man, and the infinite value of human life. These ideals are at the core of G-d's purpose
for human existence. They have been the source of the inspiration of our people that has
allowed us to survive through thousands of years of persecution. The Torah and its ideals
are also the source of inspiration that we must offer our society and its unfortunate
individuals who are faced with suffering so great as to make them question the meaning and
value of their very survival.