pikuach nefesh

Organ donation saves lives

Jordan Zwicker and Debbie Litvack after Zwicker’s kidney transplant last November. Litvack donated the organ. (photo from JMABC)

When Debbie Litvack found out her longtime friend Jordan Zwicker needed a kidney, her decision was instant.

“Jordan needed one. I had two. It felt like the right thing to do and not a big deal. Every single donor I speak to feels the same way,” Litvack said. “I have such good fortune with my health, that I wanted to share it. In addition, the community has been very kind to my family over the years. It’s a case of what goes around comes around.”

Litvack found out her friend was in need of a transplant shortly after she noticed his medical alert bracelet. He explained he is a Type 1 diabetic and, as a dialysis social worker, knowing the link between Type 1 DM and kidney disease, she asked about his kidney function. He denied any concerns although later learned he was in kidney failure and needed a transplant.

Zwicker is a “good guy” and someone who has had an outsized impact in the Vancouver Jewish community, said Litvack. As a DJ, he has mentored many of the community’s teens by hiring and training them in the event and DJ business.

Litvack said some people, like her, donate to someone they know. Others donate to family members. Others give the gift of life to someone they don’t even know. Either way, she sees it as pikuach nefesh, an active, sacred duty per halachah (Jewish law) to save a life. If you save one life, you save an entire world.

It took a battery of tests over the course of a year, including multiple and repeat blood tests, X-rays, mammogram, CT, renogram and more. There were also meetings with a nephrologist, a urologist and an anesthesiologist, as well as a comprehensive social work assessment. These assessments are vital to ensure both Litvack’s health and that she was a match. In fact, the transplant team had never seen such a strong match between a recipient and an unrelated donor.

“From the moment I decided to donate, I knew we would be a match,” she said. “It wasn’t a question of if I would donate, it was when.”

A potential donor and recipient go through the process separately. Because Litvack and Zwicker are friends, they shared a lot of their journey that is not normally shared. They also spoke often and at length about the “what ifs” in case the transplant was unsuccessful and about advanced care planning.

The transplant went ahead on Nov. 24, 2025, at Vancouver General Hospital, where Litvack works. The experience was quite different than being a professional at work and it has helped her connect in different ways with patients. She and Zwicker realized that there was an entire community of support that made the whole donation process possible.

Zwicker summed up his experience as life-changing.

“It’s given me the opportunity to continue my passion of working with people, an opportunity to be there for my son and family and a real opportunity to have the next 30 years of quality of life,” he said.

Litvack’s life-saving donation inspired the Jewish Medical Association of BC to highlight their member’s story by partnering with Temple Sholom, King David High School, BC Transplant, the Kidney Foundation of BC/Yukon and the Jewish Federation of BC to host an event that will look at organ donation from multiple angles – religious, ethical, medical, as well as personal perspectives from Litvack and Zwicker and other donors and recipients. The session will include information on how to become a donor.

The Gift of Life: Organ Donation from a Jewish Perspective takes place June 17, 7:15 p.m., at Temple Sholom. Registration is required for the free event: templesholom.ca.

Litvack encourages everyone from the Jewish, medical and local community with an interest to attend. “I really hope we will inspire someone at our event to donate,” she said. “And give the gift of life.”

– Courtesy Jewish Medical Association of British Columbia

Donors needed

There was an organ donation awareness and swab drive held at Beth Tikvah Synagogue May 25. It highlighted the work of Renewal Canada, which helps match people in kidney failure with donors to save their lives. An inspiration for the event was Jewish community member Robert Moutal’s need of a living donor kidney transplant. If you or someone you know is interested to learn how to be a living donor, visit transplant.bc.ca/organ-donation/living/kidney-donation, email [email protected] or call 604-806-9944. You can also contact Renewal Canada for more information: renewalcanada.org/moutal.

Other community members are also in need.

Temple Sholom member Libby Goszer has been diagnosed with end-stage renal failure requiring a kidney transplant. Her blood type is A+, which corresponds to an ideal donor of A+ or O blood type. Even if you do not have these blood types, it is still possible to pursue donation through the Living Donor Paired Exchange Program, where you donate to another person in exchange for a matched kidney for the recipient. If you or someone you know is interested in investigating being a living donor, go to renewalcanada.org/libbygoszer.

Additionally, last year, Daphne was diagnosed with myeloproliferative neoplasm (MPN), a rare blood cancer, and her only hope for a cure is a stem cell transplant from a matching donor. All that’s needed is a simple cheek swab to see if you are a match. To order a kit, go to blood.ca/en/stemcells/donating-stemcells/stem-cells-questionnaire (ages 17-35) or giftoflife.org/dc/daphne (ages 36-60).

– from various community organization enewsletters

Tragedy and cruelty

Reports from eyewitnesses to the catastrophe at Mount Meron last week, on Lag b’Omer, recount a horrifying crush of humanity propelled as if by an external force. The tragedy of 45 lives lost and scores of seriously injured will be investigated by authorities after allegations that the potential for such a disaster had been foretold.

The investigation into Israel’s worst civilian disaster will likely look at structural factors that led to the stampede and the inability of attendees to escape as the throng converged into a choke point at the site.

A small silver lining in the horrific incident was the mobilization of Arab Israelis in villages near the mountain, who set up help stations to provide water and food to attendees as they gathered in the aftermath.

But the tragedy itself was exacerbated when some among the survivors turned on female Israel Defence Forces soldiers arriving to help. The event was attended almost exclusively by religious men and boys. When female soldiers arrived to deliver first aid and evacuation assistance, some were spit on, kicked and punched as they attempted to help the wounded and remove the bodies of the deceased.

Such misogynistic extremism will probably not be within the parameters of a government inquiry. And perhaps that is fine, because this is a symptom of a much larger societal problem and one that should be confronted thoroughly by the entire country. Interfering in the life-saving work of first responders is not only reprehensible, it is an abrogation of a foremost tenet of Judaism, pikuach nefesh, the saving of life. Most of the victims and survivors are shomer negiah, adhering to a religious principle that restricts or forbids contact between members of the opposite sex. In a deeply distorted interpretation, a number of men in the situation chose to elevate shomer negiah above pikuach nefesh. By spitting on rescue workers, the perpetrators were spitting on the very sacredness they imagined themselves to be defending. That is something that deserves serious consideration by religious people and by secular authorities as the country – and Jews worldwide – grapple with the aftermath of the entire incident.

Another tragic byproduct of the disaster has been reactions to the news among people who gravely lack humanity. Within hours of being posted, a story on Al Jazeera’s website about the tragedy was met with more than 10,000 comments celebrating the deaths. Among the representative comments: “Drinks on me, y’all,” “about time we got some good news on our media,” “I feel so happy, actually” and “May God ensure the bodies pile high.”

It is difficult to fathom that we live in a world where people would respond to a mass casualty event in this manner. It is also nearly impossible to imagine such a response if the tragedy had happened to anyone other than Jews.

For years, a robust discussion has occurred around whether, if or when anti-Zionism crosses a line into antisemitism. Did the callous, sadistic comments reflect a political statement about the right of Israel to exist? Were they even more base, a celebration of dead Jews just because they were Jews? Was it anti-Zionism that drove these depraved commenters, or was it antisemitism?

These questions throw a spotlight on the fundamental foolishness of the dichotomy. A semantic discussion about the motivations of people who would behave in this way gives far too much credence to their actions, as if there could, in some convoluted moral universe, be a justification for their cruelty.

Was it anti-Zionism? Was it antisemitism? At this point, does it really matter what we call it?

Stay home for the High Holidays

At its best, the Jewish community does amazing things in the spirit of pikuach nefesh, to save a life. At services, if someone faints, there’s silent networking. Within seconds, multiple medical professionals surge forward silently to attend those medical emergencies. I heard that one crack team included a gynecologist, a neurologist and a dermatologist – and a nurse who managed better than all the specialists together. In these situations, the Jewish priority is clear. It’s taking care of health and well-being first.

I was recently studying a page of Talmud, Shabbat 129a. It examines healthcare issues through a Jewish lens of 1,500-plus years ago. The rabbinic commentaries throughout the ages update medical practice as time passes.

There’s a section discussing when a woman in childbirth needs Shabbat to be desecrated. When a baby is born, it’s a potentially life-threatening situation. Therefore, halachah (Jewish law) is lenient. The people near a woman giving birth must do what she needs, even if it breaks the Sabbath. Depending on which rabbi you consult, this leniency can last awhile: from three to 30 days.

On the same page, the rabbis discuss bloodletting. We recognize today that this ancient medical treatment is almost never advisable. Bloodletting was seen then, though, as being both medically necessary and very dangerous. There’s acknowledgement in the Talmud that this is a difficult experience. Different scholars recommend how to recover best with food, wine, rest or being in the sun. It sounds awful. Over time, different commentators reflected their views on limiting this scary treatment. Maimonides advised against it in Mishneh Torah, aside from “when there is an extraordinary need for it.”

I thought about this as I read an online forum about High Holidays this year. It won’t be surprising to hear that, in many congregations, there will be services streamed online; brief, outdoor services; or some kind of limited, small group get-together. In the COVID-19 era, we know that social distancing, wearing masks and avoiding large gatherings are all important ways to avoid getting sick.

Jewish tradition emphasizes our need to gather as a community. For many, this is why we attend services. However, as I heard on this forum, congregations sought input from their communities, and some of the questions struck me as absurd.

What would you miss about High Holiday services? The list was long: hearing speeches from the synagogue board, receiving aliyot, seeing friends, saying Yizkor with the community, hearing the rabbi’s sermon, breaking fast together, doing Tashlich, and more. There were awkward questions: If only a small, socially distanced group (of 10, 25, 50, etc.) can gather, will you be upset if you aren’t included?

The questions, asked in various ways, were, “What will make this holiday meaningful for you? How can the congregation provide that?”

Everyone thinks something different is meaningful. If only one thing were meaningful, we could all do it and be done with services in 10 minutes. (Or whatever ritual event we’re considering.) For me? I would say “meaningful” is when your congregation doesn’t become a contagious hotspot for coronavirus.

For those who feel slighted about not being in synagogue, consider if only a small congregation is allowed. Think about what is more meaningful: experiencing the High Holidays differently, streaming services at home and knowing your congregation hasn’t endangered a single person’s health, or being there in person and risking everyone’s health by spreading the virus through the congregation?

To me, the most important thing we – as individuals and as a congregation – could do is to help everyone have a healthy, happy, meaningful year. If that means avoiding groups, we should pay for our customary tickets or synagogue dues and stay home.

If streaming doesn’t work because of your observance level or because you’re “Zoomed out,” you have options. Perhaps bake some honey cake, call up friends and family to catch up before the holiday, ask forgiveness, and wish them happy New Year. Then, pray alone or with your immediate family. Find some relevant books to read, take a hike in nature, etc. There are other ways to observe these holidays.

As a new mother, I explored this issue previously, when I had my twins and had no child care. Babies need what they need. They don’t care what day it is. I streamed some very good services and sermons while juggling twins through infancy, toddlerhood and preschool.

We’ve already observed a long series of holidays – many Shabbats, Passover and Shavuot – at home by now. Pre-pandemic, I found meaning in different ways: a summer Shabbat service, Shavuot ice cream, Simchat Torah dancing or sitting in my backyard sukkah.

Sometimes, just sitting still is the point. My twins are 9 now. They will “attend” services with us in our living room this year, just as we do on most Shabbats these days.

Watching my kids sing along at home as they set up Lego minyanim in preparation also has meaning. They debate where all their animals and robots should sit in their made-up congregation, directly in front of the iPad streaming services.

No one scenario has the market cornered on “meaning.” However, that Talmud page, Shabbat 129a, offers a window through which we can study how medical care changes and evolves. We no longer think bloodletting is a necessary procedure, but rather just a dangerous one. The underlying message about childbirth and health care is that the rabbis teach us to be lenient about any life-threatening situation.

We’ll learn more about this coronavirus as time passes. Meanwhile, while we need to acknowledge our feelings, we can’t let our personal upset be what’s important – that’s just selfish. I, too, miss being in the physical congregation space, but not enough to endanger a single immune-compromised or elderly person who might attend. Choosing a lenient position about how to fulfil our religious obligations in this dangerous time is key.

For some, it’s early to be dwelling on the fall holidays, but it’s not too soon to buy your “virtual services” ticket. Invest in your community’s future financial health and make a plan for how to make your observance special. Knowing we’ve prioritized pikuach nefesh first? That’s priceless.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.