Chronic Illness, Social Punishment, and Disability Torah
by Adam Kersch
From a disability justice perspective, there is quite a lot to discuss in Parashat Ki Tasa. Right at the beginning, the Israelites are told to pay a ransom to Gd for being enrolled, “that no plague may come upon them through their being enrolled” (30:12). Though this sentence is less direct than others in the Torah (avid readers may remember the plagues in Egypt), the overall message is that sickness is a punishment and those who are adequately righteous will not have to bear this punishment. A bit later in the parasha, in Exodus 32.35, the same sentiment is much more directly stated: “…the Lord sent a plague upon the people for what they did with the calf that Aaron made.” That is, sickness is a direct punishment for idolatry. What, in general, does that mean for people who become sick? Are we to believe that all sickness is some kind of divine consequence for bad actions?
For anyone, this can be a problematic way to approach one’s health. Surely, sickness is a normal part of the human experience; everyone will become sick multiple times in their lifetime, just like everyone will become disabled at some point in their life. If, taken to an extreme, we saw every sickness or disability we experienced as a divine punishment, we would spend a lot of time wondering what we had done wrong. And likely, we would be inflicting punishment upon ourselves in addition to whatever ailment we have, telling ourselves that we must deserve whatever crud we’re experiencing.
For those with disabilities, this is an even greater concern because, for many of us, we are “chronically ill.” If we took this sickness as punishment perspective, then it would seem that people with disabilities and/or who are chronically ill are somehow “deserving” of years, or potentially a lifetime, of divine “punishment.” Sickness is a constant and “health” becomes an unattainable ideal and something that we are measured against.
Unfortunately, Jewish texts and even our prayers can reinforce this message. In Birkot Hashakhar, we thank the divine who “straightens the bent” and “makes the blind see.” Some versions of this prayer even have a line thanking Hashem for not making one an “ignoramus," which is blatantly ableist. Does this mean that people who are blind and/or “bent” simply haven’t received some kind of divine blessing? Should people with intellectual or developmental disabilities likewise feel as if they lack Gd’s love or favor? And as a serious question, what are people with disabilities supposed to say during this prayer and others like it? How are we supposed to feel when our community is saying this prayer around us without thinking about its implications? Our places of worship can further reinforce this message by not being built or used to bearing people with disabilities in mind by, for example, not having services that require masking or programming that is accessible. Again, it can feel like we are being punished for just having a certain kind of body or mind.
And while I would like to think that most people don’t think of sickness as a divine chastisement, society is set up in such a way that often people with disabilities can feel that we are being punished for having disabilities. People with chronic illnesses and disabilities are painfully aware of the ways that society has not been built for our full participation. I think it’s important to phrase things this way because, while it often feels like our bodies or minds “limit” us in such a way that we can’t fully participate, the truth is the people who create laws and shape social norms often don’t have us in mind and end up excluding us as a result.
In general society, some of us may struggle to hold jobs and begin to feel worthless, incapable, or inadequate as a result. Others might have a difficult time in social situations and continue to feel increasingly isolated from people without chronic illnesses or disabilities. And some folks with chronic conditions need constant care and, at times, might feel like a burden for their loved ones (if this is you, please know that you are a blessing and not a burden).
Our societal exclusion and marginalization, resulting feelings of loneliness, and the day-to-day pains of living in particular kinds of bodies might make us inclined to think that we are being punished for something. People with disabilities often find that public spaces are built without us in mind and that laws are written without us in mind. From lack of wheelchair ramps and elevators to overstimulating environments, when disabled people try to simply exist in society, we receive the message that we aren’t worthy of consideration or intentional inclusion. Again, it can feel like punishment.
In many cases, I don’t think that people planning events, creating laws, and and building buildings are intentionally excluding people with disabilities (that being said, they would likely benefit from learning about ableism and disabilities). And often, when disabled people try to draw attention to some of these problems, we get treated like we are “entitled” or asking for something special. Regardless of others’ intentions, disabled people receive the same message: at best, we are an inconvenient afterthought, and at worst, we are excluded from and possibly not welcome in general society. This message can, and often does, reinforce our feelings of loneliness and isolation. It can create distance between us and our friends and families and the communities we want to participate in. While people might not intend to “punish” people with disabilities with these kinds of things, it often feels like punishment.
The response to COVID-19 is a good example of this. Despite the fact that COVID-19 can be disabling and can increase risk of stroke, heart attack, organ failure, chronic fatigue, and can even cause long term problems to one’s immune system (which might explain why it feels like everyone is sick all the time now), and a litany of other problems, there is practically no public consideration about COVID-19 at this point. Instead, the factually inaccurate message that people in governance and public health often send out is that COVID-19 is only dangerous for people with “pre-existing conditions.” As a result, they argue, society can continue as it did before.
This is, intentionally or not, stating that we do not need to consider or think about how to include people with “pre-existing conditions” and that these people should not expect to participate in society the way that others do. It essentially says that, if you are disabled, you belong at home and not in public. For me and many other people I know with disabilities, the response to COVID-19 makes it feel like we are being punished simply for not having the “right” kind of body. And as we struggle with issues of self-worth and self-acceptance, we find that society is treating us as if we are “a thing unclean” (Lamentations 1:17). Even if we (people with disabilities) tell ourselves that Gd does not actually punish people by making them sick or disabled, society unfortunately does punish us for this, which can cause us to punish ourselves through decreased self-worth and internalized ableism.
At the crux of all of this is the idea that “health” is a superior status relative to being “unhealthy” (it’s important to point out this means many different things to many different people). In this perspective, if you are “unhealthy,” it is because of some personal shortcoming, like not exercising or eating right. Whether people believe this because they think Gd punishes humans through ailments or because they have, intentionally or not, harbored eugenic sentiments that people with disabilities are not “fit” and should not feel entitled to living the same kind of life as non-disabled people do, the impact on people with disabilities is the same. Some people consider us to be a deviation from a supposed “healthy” norm and that if we aren’t “healthy,” that something is “wrong” with us.
In this perspective, and allowing this parasha to guide us, we might even go so far as to say that our idea of health is a false idol that we have been taught to worship. Rather than embracing the fact of the multiplicity of humanity made in the divine image (the fact that we are different and some of us have disabilities and others don’t), we instead have created an ideal body or form that we must all strive to attain.
Disability Torah offers us a lens to question this kind of assumption and provides us with some tools to look at a fundamental contradiction that we see in Jewish texts. On the one hand, some Jewish texts seem to suggest that sickness is a form of divine punishment. On the other hand, we are reminded that we are all made in the divine image. This means that all of us - regardless of our bodies, minds, or spirits - are a reflection of the holy oneness of Yah. There is no qualification here and nothing that indicates “healthy” people are somehow more divine or holy or more representative of the divine image than people with chronic health problems. There’s a message here for all Jews as well as for Jews who have disabilities.
For Jews to truly embrace this message, we must treat everyone, regardless of their health, as a living image of divinity that is inherently deserving of love, inclusion, and respect. This means that places of worship and other public spaces should not only plan with disabled people in mind, but these spaces must also make intentional efforts to talk with disabled members of the community to learn how to better include us. This should be done broadly and not only include people like me who are privileged in our ability to do things like acquire advanced degrees and write pieces like this one. These spaces must also actively talk with people whose disabilities make it difficult to be physically or independently present in day to day life and disabled people who might find it difficult to speak and articulate their needs. As you are planning ways for Jewish people to be present together, keep in mind a key disability rights rallying cry “nothing about us without us.” That is, do not make decisions that impact us without including us. For Jews to truly honor the divine, we must honor all minds and bodies.
For Jews with disabilities who are understandably struggling with the isolation that disability can bring, we need to remember that our bodies and minds are in the image of Gd. With the exclusion that we feel in society, it can be tempting to view our bodies and minds as an inconvenience, a burden, and a source of emotional and/or physical pain. One of the things that excites me so much about Disability Torah is that it allows us to ask how our unique and individual bodies and minds are also in Gd’s image and therefore divine. Our bodies, minds, and souls are still holy. If we are made in the image of Hashem and we are disabled or chronically ill, then Hashem, in their endlessly unfolding multiplicity and oneness, must also be disabled or chronically ill. What would it look like for us to take this as a fundamental assumption when approaching Torah, any Jewish text, and even life itself?
Adam Kersch (he/they) is a rabbic student in the Aleph Ordination Program and a Renewal Jew. They received their PhD in anthropology in 2022. They have previously worked as a medical anthropologist and as the lead researcher for the Vermont Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Adam’s research examined the ongoing role of racism in public health policy in Southeast Alaska, human rights abuses in Vermont institutions for people with disabilities, and healthcare access for asylum-seekers in Sicily. Now Adam is excited to begin their career as a renewal rabbinical student and to work to continue to advocate for people with disabilities.
