Jewish Doctors for Jesus Blog
The Truth Hurts
It’s the old Bob Newhart show, (you know, the one where he plays a psychologist, not an innkeeper, and his wife is not a mellifluous blond but a throaty brunette), and Bob has just come home after suffering humiliation on a televised airing of his group therapy session.
“Well, Emily, what did you think of the show?” he asks in that halting monotone that Newhart fans adore.
“Do you want me to answer honestly, or as a loving wife?” she replies.
“Uh, lie Emily,” he deadpans.
Hearing the truth can hurt. We admit it jestingly, but the old axiom has more meaning than most people want to know. When the truth hurts, one must choose either to endure pain or avoid truth—a distressing choice. The result? “The truth is heavy, therefore its bearers are few” (emphasis supplied).1
The invitation came from my father, a physician with privileges at Cedars Sinai. I was eager to attend the lecture because the speaker, Dr. Michael Fowler, was from Stanford University Hospital. His topic was “Transplantation in 1987,” a topic of utmost interest to me. I sat in the back with my father and watched the room fill with doctors and nurses who also had an interest in this high-tech, life-saving medicine. The first case history presented was referred to as, “Patient Number One.” To me, he was John.
No reporters have visited the prison camps of Soviet Russia, unless they have gone as prisoners. So to this day we have little information about the millions who have lived, suffered, and died there, especially during Stalin’s reign of terror. Most will remain nameless for all time, remembered only in the hearts of those who knew and loved them. But from time to time, scraps of information have filtered out about a few. One of those few was Boris Nicholayevich Kornfeld.