Have you ever had to wait for something? For an important phone call from an employer, or a loved one? For a red light when you are late for an appointment?

For a child who is returning home past their designated curfew? For the real estate agent to call to let you know if you got the house? For the results of a test?

Waiting is very, very hard. As a society, especially, instant gratification reigns. Instant meals, fast food drive through, email, cell phone, all show how impatient we really are.

Yet for some, waiting is simply part of their daily routine.

Imagine this:

Adam was diagnosed with diabetes when he was a teen-ager. While he took care of himself, his kidneys began to fail when he was in his thirties. The only hope for Adam's survival was a kidney and pancreas transplant. Without new organs, Adam would die. So Adam put his name on the organ donation list. And began waiting. For 18 months his life hung in the balance. Finally, doctors found a suitable match: a young man of seventeen, the victim of a fatal automobile accident, who had previously advised his parents about his desire to donate his organs. Adam now had the chance he needed to live.

The wait for an organ—for a chance to live—is a journey I cannot imagine. As someone for whom immediate is sometimes too slow, I am overwhelmed by Adam's bravery and patience.

The waiting game is a part of the lives of thousands of people, as they add their names to the "list"—the list of those waiting for organ donations. The wait for an organ is often quite lengthy because of the lack of organ donors.

Talking about organ donation is very difficult because it forces us to contemplate death. We'd rather avoid talking about our deaths—or the death of a loved one—for it superstitiously seems to be declaring a self-fulfilling prophecy. It is also hard to discuss organ donation because, often, donation of an organ is the result of a sudden death. We don't want to think such horrible, painful thoughts.

Yet we must discuss this eventuality, for we have the incredible power, with our deaths, to give the gift of life. Part of this discussion is to understand the Jewish teachings about organ donation.

Incredibly, there is consensus between most Jewish movements. They agree that the donation of organs is supremely important because it can save lives. The ideal of saving a life is paramount in Judaism. In Hebrew, this important concept is called Pikuach Nefesh. Pikuach Nefesh means saving a life.

Pikuach Nefesh stems from a well known verse in Leviticus: "You shall not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor" (Lev. 19:16). This verse declares that the inestimable value of human life is a cardinal principle of Jewish law.

Maimonides, the famous medieval philosopher and himself a physician, wrote that: "Anyone who is able to save a life, but fails to do so, violates the command: And you shall not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor."

A Midrash, or description of the text, teaches that this Leviticus verse means: "Do not watch without doing something while your neighbor's blood is shed."

You may have noticed that I delineated the above sacred principle of Pikuach Nefesh by stating that it cannot endanger your life. It's important to understand that donation of organs can only be considered after every measure has been taken to save the patients life and death has been declared. It is understandable that consenting to post-mortem donation may be difficult. The donation any organ occurs only after the donor is declared brain dead. The recovery of organs does not disfigure the body.

In my research, I came across this statement from Rabbi Steven Jacobs: "The imperative to save lives supercedes the normal prohibitions against invading the integrity of one who has died out of honor for [life]--and it definitely supercedes any worry about the condition of one's body in life after death."

Since 1968, the Reform Movement has been officially in support of organ donation, stating that the use of body parts to heal or save lives is in keeping with the mood of Jewish tradition, and a positive act of holiness. The principle of Pikuach Nefesh, saving a life, continues to be held as sacred and fundamental. This obligation includes the duty to save the life of someone else should they be in mortal danger.

Adam was in mortal danger. He was dying. Yet his life was saved with the donation of a kidney and pancreas. He received the best of all gifts: the gift of life. Adam is not alone: every day, 60 people receive life-giving organs.

And yet, there are many more who are not given the gift of life: every day, 16 people die because of lack of available organs.

In 1999 there were 68,497 patients waiting for organs. There were 5, 848 organ donors.

Every 14 minutes a new patient is added to the national patient waiting list for organ transplants. The call for organs is urgent. Too many people are waiting too long. Their waiting game does have an end: death.

Jewish tradition teaches that we are partners with God in continuing and sustaining the daily miracles of creation. Organ donation is an extension of this partnership. Through donations, you have the unique and holy opportunity to give the gift of life.

To give this sacred gift, there are three steps: First, get the facts. On the membership table in the foyer, there are informational materials. These materials include a pamphlet from the UAHC (Union of American Hebrew Congregations) that discusses the importance of becoming an organ donor. The table also includes a pamphlet from the Texas Organ Sharing Alliance containing information about discussing organ donation.

Once you have the facts, you must talk to your loved ones. In Texas, even if you are carrying an organ donor card, loved ones can reverse this decision upon your death. If you talk to them, this is less likely to happen. Further, since the majority of organ donors occur due to a tragic death, please do not delay this discussion.

Also on the table, you will find organ donor cards. Once you have the facts, and join in discussion with your loved ones, it is my hope and prayer that you will join with me as organ donors by signing the card.

There is no greater honor we can give to the dead than to bring healing to the living.

Robert Test wrote these lines as he was dying: "Don't call this my death bed. Let it be called the bed of life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives."

Let this prayer be our prayer as well. Amen.

Home