Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

People often ask: Why do Jews not practice cremation? Why did the ancient Israelites not cremate the remains like other cultures in the ancient world?

Cremation is mentioned as one of four forms of capital punishment for a variety of religious and social offenses, e.g., Gen. 19:24; Lev. 20:14, 21:9; Num. 16:35; cf. Josh. 7:15, 25. There is an interesting passage in 2 Chronicles 16:13-14 that reads:

• Then in the forty-first year of his reign Asa died and rested with his fathers. They buried him in the tomb that he had cut out for himself in the City of David. They laid him on a bier covered with spices and various blended perfumes, and they made a huge fire in his honor.

This passage does not refer to cremation, because cremation was reserved only for villainous people, but it was customary to make a large bonfire in honor of the ancient kings of Israel. There is no indication that corpses were cremated in ancient Israel, except in days long before the Israelites’ arrival to Canaan, or among groups of foreigners; the Israelites never practiced it. [1]

In the spirit of speculation, cremation might have been frowned upon because of its association with Molech-worship. The book of Deuteronomy refers to, “passing a son or a daughter pass through the fire” (Deut. 12:31). Scholars since the time of Abraham Geiger (1810–1874), argue that some ancient Israelites clans believed YHWH worship involved some form of human sacrifice (cf. Isa. 30:33).[2] The prophets condemned the practice (cf. Gen. 22:1–14; Exod. 13:2, 12–13, 15; Mic. 6:6–7) precisely because of the syncretism between paganism and the worship of YHWH.

Some theorists take a different position because the lack of archaeological evidence suggests that the Canaanites of Phoenicia did not practice human sacrifice.  It has been argued that the Deuteronomy passages represent a rhetorical polemic intended to “Canaanize” what was originally an Israelite practice of human sacrifice.

It is interesting to note that the Phoenicians introduced cremation to the ANE (Ancient Near East). The Israelites, much like the other indigenous peoples of the ANE, e.g., the Amorites, Egyptians, and Assyrians, buried their dead in caves, or in bench tombs. One might wonder whether the Canaanite practice of cremation gave rise to the biblical polemic that the Canaanites cremated their children as a funerary rite. In other words, the Canaanites cremated their children—but only after they were already dead!

One could reply, “Not necessarily!” As with any scholarly debate within the archaeological community, there are counter-arguments. For example, in the ancient Phoenician city of Carthage, thousands of urns have been found that bear witness to the ubiquity of child sacrifice. Cremated bones of young children ranging between 2 and 12 show how common this pagan rite once was. Other Phoenician sanctuaries or sacrificial precincts discovered on Sicily and Sardinia also bear witness to this practice.[3]

In any event, the practice probably horrified Israelites so intensely, they decided to not to have anything to do with even the appearance of this dreadful pagan custom. In his commentary to Jeremiah 7:31, Rashi describes what he believed the resembled the ancient Molech ritual. Although his perspective may be somewhat Midrashic in tone, he captures the essence of the ritual, “Tophet is Moloch, was made of brass; and they heated him from his lower parts; and his outstretched hands were made red hot. The priests would place the child between his hands, and it was burnt; when it vehemently cried out; but the priests loudly beat a drum, that his father might not hear his son’s cries, and so that  his heart might not be moved . . .” Incidentally, Rashi’s exposition comes indirectly from ancient Greek traditions.

In the Punic city of Carthage, a Phoenician colony, Cleitarchus, Diodorus Siculus and Plutarch all mention burning of children as an offering to Cronus or Saturn, known also as Ba‘al Hammon, the chief god of Carthage. However, a number of scholars think the Romans demonized the people of Carthrage, and exaggerated cruel and barbaric customs. Paul G. Mosca, for example, in his thesis described below, translates Cleitarchus’ paraphrase of a scholium to Plato’s Republic as:

• There stands in their midst a bronze statue of Kronos, its hands extended over a bronze brazier, the flames of which engulf the child. When the flames fall upon the body, the limbs contract and the open mouth seems almost to be laughing until the contracted body slips quietly into the brazier. Thus it is that the ‘grin’ is known as ‘sardonic laughter,’ since they die laughing.

• Diodorus Siculus (20.14) wrote: “There was in their city a bronze image of Kronos extending its hands, palms up and sloping toward the ground, so that each of the children when placed thereon rolled down and fell into a sort of gaping pit filled with fire.”[5]

* Back to the Present

The crematoria of the Nazis has left a similar feeling of disgust among most traditional Jews, and for this reason, cremation has still never found acceptance among Jews as a burial rite. In a sardonic sense, the Nazis were much like Molech worshipers of old in their contempt of human life–much like the Islamic suicide bombers epitomize the Molech archetype today.

To this day, most Orthodox rabbis refuse to bury the ashes of someone who opted for cremation; moreover, anyone who has his body cremated is not mourned for by the next of kin. According to The Compendium on Medical Ethics, summarizes the Jewish view of procedures after death:

• The inviolate right of a person to life, which differentiates mankind from all other animal species, extends an aura of holiness over the body even after the Divine soul leaves it. The body, like the soul, is the property of the One who created it. It is therefore not permitted to injure or mutilate the body except when overriding consideration for the preservation of life and health make such action necessary…. Reverent treatment of the body and speedy interment are biblically-ordained precepts. Cremation, freeze-storage of the body, and above-ground burial crypts, are all in violation of Jewish law and practice. The duty to bury in the ground applies to all parts of the body and is the obligation of the next of kin. Even where testamentary direction to be cremated has been given, Jewish law requires that it be ignored as an unwarranted desecration of the body.[4]

However, Chief Rabbi Marcus Nathan Adler of Britain, though opposed to cremation, permitted the ashes of a person who had been cremated to be interred in a Jewish cemetery in 1887. The decision was sustained by his successor, Herman Adler (1891), who quoted the authority of Rabbi Isaac Elhanan Spector. It was also the attitude of Chief Rabbi Zadoc Kahn of France. (EJ 2010 ed.). Conservative and Reform rabbis generally take a more lenient position on this issue.

* One Famous Cremation in the Bible

Yet, there is one well-known biblical exception to this rule–King Saul. After the citizens of Jabesh-gilead retrieved the bodies Saul and Jonathan, we read that “they cremated their remains” (1 Sam. 31:12). Why was it practiced with respect to Saul? Among the Aegean and Anatolians, cremations were used especially to honor fallen warriors and royalty ( reminiscent of Mel Gibson’s film, Braveheart). It seems that the townsfolk wanted to show respect to the first king in a comparable like manner. It is also possible the townspeople feared that the more powerful Philistine townspeople would return and look to further inflict further desecration.

Some scholars think that the burning of the bodies of Saul and his sons by the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead (1 Sam. 31:12-13) may have been to prevent further desecration by the Philistines. On the other hand, this practice occurred when the bodies were in a mutilated state.

It is interesting to note that in Israel and Judah, it was the custom to light a large bonfire as a tribute to a dead king (cf. 2 Chron. 16:14; 21:19). This fire does not refer to cremation because Israel and Judah buried dead bodies rather than cremating them. Talmudic tradition says that the kings of Israel used to have their bed and other personal items burnt together with them (BT Avodah Zara 11a).

* Comparative Religious Perspectives

When one examines the Judaic view of cremation, it is interesting to contrast it with other perspectives, particularly with the Hindu tradition, which takes an altogether different approach to cremation.

For example, in ancient India, Hindu and Buddhist faiths thought that cremation provided the transition to immortality. The earthly fire symbolizes the celestial fire, which purges the earthly shell of the body, releasing the soul to achieve an immortal existence, conferring upon it a celestial identity. The sacred fire sublimates and extracts the soul, leaving it as a distilled spiritual essence, ready for the next incarnation into this world at some future time.

However, in Hindu and Buddhist cultures, ascetics and quite often—widows—will subject their bodies to the fire to achieve a higher incarnation in the next life time. Muslim suicide bombers likewise regard their deaths as a symbolic sacrifice to Allah, who will in turn grant them seventy virgins in Paradise.

On account of Judaism’s belief in the inherent sanctity of life, our ancestors rejected cremation as a Judaic form of mourning. Into your hands I entrust my spirit; you will redeem me, LORD,  faithful God” (Psa. 31:6).

An old former congregant and friend of mine (who happens to be a Cohen) recently lost his father, and he asked me the following question. Is a Jewish Priest’s ritual purity compromised by coming into contact with ashes of a cremated person?

Your question could also be parsed in a philosophical way: Do the ashes of a cremated person retain a residue of a person’s humanity? In practical terms, are we obligated to the ashes, or are do we regard the ashes as being bereft of anything considered “human”?

The Mishnah in Ohalot 2:2 discusses this intriguing question. Here is the text:

The ash of burned people—

A     R. Eliezer says, “Its measure is a quarter-qab.” (1 log = 0.506 lit.)

B     And the Sages declare the ashes ritually clean.

The commentaries state this only applies if the body is completely cremated; however, if the body is partially cremated, then even the Sages concur the cremated body conveys ritual impurity.  The Halacha follows the view of the Sages.  Although there is no legal obligation to bury the ashes in a cemetery—in the event someone died in a fire—nevertheless, a number of halachic authorities rule that it is considered meritorious to bury the ashes in a Jewish cemetery (cf. Gesher HaHayim 16:8:5).

R. Isaac Klein rules:

• A great number of authorities forbid the burial of ashes in a Jewish cemetery because this would encourage the practice of cremation (see Dudaei Hasadeh, sec. 16; Mahazeh Avraham, vol. 2, Y.D. 38; and Lerner, Hayyei Olam). Others permit it and even permit a service at the burial (Rules of the Burial Society of the United Synagogue of London, quoted in Rabinowicz, A Guide to Life, p. 29; see also Rabbi Eliyahu ben Amozegh, Ya’aneh Vaeish). The Law Committee of the Rabbinical Assembly has ruled that cremation is not permitted. When it is done by the family in disregard of Jewish practice, a rabbi may officiate only at the service in the funeral parlor; the ashes may be buried in a Jewish cemetery and appropriate prayers may be said, but not by a rabbi, lest his participation be interpreted as approval (Rabbinical Assembly Proceedings, 1939, p. 156; Law Committee Archives). [1]

Not all halachic scholars agree on this issue, and most Orthodox cemeteries will deny the burial of cremated ashes  for the reasons mentioned above. Conservative Jewish cemetery boards  tend to be more lenient on this issue and this has been my personal position as well.

Over this past week, the question regarding the charred remains of the 9/11 victims came up in the news. According to a new Pentagon report, the government sent the remains of several of the bodies that were gathered from the Shanksville crash to a local bio-medical waste disposal contractor. The contractor later incinerated the remains and used the bodies as landfill. Apparently, this has been the practice of the military for quite some time.

Using people’s bodies for landfill is not much better than what the Nazis did with the Jews in the concentration camps. For example, a woman named Isle Koch was the superintendent of the Nazi concentration camps Buchenwald (from 1937 to 1941) and Majdanek (from 1941 to 1943). As a consummate sadist, Koch took great pride in the lamp shades she made from the skin of Jewish inmates whom she had killed if they had distinctive looking tattoos. In case you did not know, the Nazis also cooked the flesh of Jews in order to separate the fat out and made soap from their bodies. The “Beast of Buchenwald” was one of the first prominent Nazis to be tried by the US military for her crimes against humanity.

According to the Jewish philosopher Emanuel Lévinas and Jacques Derrida, human existence always leaves what’s called a “trace,” of a person. On the one hand, the trace signifies the absence of that person’s presence, but it  also paradoxically preserves a residue of the person’s existence that still remains present.

From their philosophical observation, we may deduce an important ethical principle—one which has profound halachic implications. When dealing with the human remains of a cremated person, the little “trace,” of that person’s humanity does not disappear into a state of oblivion. So long as even the smallest fragment of that person remains, one needs to treat that “trace” with ethical sensitivity. Hence, what we have here is what Derrida calls, “the metaphysics of pure presence,” which I would argue, commands us to treat life with value and with respect.  In simple terms, the human being can never be reduced to an impersonal object, for even the “trace” bears witness to the invisible transcendence of the Other.

The accidental burning of the Quran in Afghanistan raises some important questions: How does one dispose of religious literature?

The 18^th century Muslim scholar Allamah Haskafi, author jurisprudence text Durr-Mukhtar, wrote of the disposal of the no-longer wanted Qurans: “If one decides to get rid of religious literature, the right thing would be to bury them by wrapping them in something pure first, in a place where people would rarely traffic. Similarly, it would be permitted to tie the books and papers with something heavy and cast them into a flowing river. You may also burn [texts other than the Quran], but in this case, only after erasing the names of Allah, his Angels and his Messengers…”

Religious traditions vary considerably—even within a given faith. Some Muslim traditions require that the Quran be wrapped in a linen cloth, to protect it from the impure soil. Some scholars recommend that the Muslims place the book in a niche dug along the side of a grave, pointing in the direction of Mecca.

Historically, some early Muslim scholars recommended burning the Quran—but only as a last resort to prevent the book from being defiled. Afterwards, the ashes should be buried or scattered over water. The place where the Quran is burnt is also important and should be ritually performed over the property of a mosque. One Muslim scholar informed me that burning individual Quranic verses represents a type of symbolic sacrifice.

Among the oriental faiths, Hindus immerse their holy writings in clean water, burial or burning, according to the Hari Bhakti Vilasa, a Hindu book of rituals and conduct. If still usable, the items can be sent to the next of kin or cremated with a deceased owner. Buddhist ritual is less defined. However, normally a Buddhist should recite a Buddhist scripture in front of the items to be disposed of, if such a person is present. The material can then be burned and its ashes buried. It is permitted to place the text in a bag and leave it for recycling.[1]

Medieval Christian history regarded the disposal of the Bible as a serious sin. Only recently have Christians adopted the Jewish and Muslim tradition of burying the Bible and other sacred writings, while others recommend one ought to simply fix the Bible so that it will be reusable. According to the Wikihow.com, Christian scholars recommend:

• Consider the intent of your disposal method. If you respect the Holy Bible as a sacred text, you should choose a method which is not deliberately defiling or irreverent. Burying or burning, would not mix the pages of your Bible with common household refuse and cause it to be subjected to objectionably gross conditions. Burying the Bible. Wrapping the Bible in a clean, plain white cloth, or building a small wooden casket would give the Holy Book a reverent final resting place. The Jews have a tradition of burying defiled or damaged copies of their sacred texts in a cemetery, usually with a body, after performing liturgical rites over them.

•  Burning the Bible. This should be done in a reverent, somber fashion. Building a small bonfire and placing the Book in the flames to ensure that it burns completely, and nature will scatter the ashes.  Show respect due, in accordance to your faith, the book which you are disposing of. Think of its history, value, and enduring quality. If you feel compelled, during the process of disposal, say a prayer, or repeat a selected verse or passage from the Book.[2]

Jewish tradition traditionally buries their holy books at the local Jewish cemetery. Unlike the Muslim faith, it is forbidden to erase or burn God’s Name to facilitate its burial.  Burning siddurim or old Torah scrolls is expressly forbidden—probably because of the violent abuse Jewish communities experienced in Christian and Muslim lands. [3]Unfortunately, not every religion shows its respect toward the faith of the Other. I would add that all religions are guilty of this type of sacrilege to a greater or lesser degree.

Erasing God’s Name is a complicated issue in Halachic literature. Many Orthodox Jews will write God’s Name as “G-d” to get around the issue. By doing so, since God’s Name is not really being written down, newspapers or articles with G-d’s Name may be discarded. This is somewhat of a legal fiction that probably makes little algebraic sense. Nowadays even our currency reads “In God we trust,” and some Halachic scholars would argue that one should not count money while in a bathroom, since God's Name needs to be associated with a clean place. On the other hand, one may justifiably wonder: How appropriate is it to have God's Name embossed on money in the first place? Some critics occasionally muse, "Does 'In God we trust' signify a faith in God? Or does it signify a faith in the god of mammon?" These are valid theological and practical questions that we might explore at a future time.

Several medieval rabbinic scholars contend that if the Divine Name was not meant for holy usage, it may be erased and discarded.[4] Other rabbinical scholars contend that the Hebrew Name only has holiness in Hebrew and that all secular names for God have no holiness whatsoever.[5]

The only exception to destroying God’s Name is when it involves the ritual of the Sotah (a woman accused of adultery). According to the Torah, the name of God had to be erased and used for a special ceremony (Numbers 5:11-31). The ritual involved seven steps performed by the priest: 1) putting sacral water into an earthen vessel; 2) throwing some earth from the floor of the Sanctuary into the water; 3) standing the woman on trial before the Lord, baring her head and placing her meal offering upon her hands; 4) adjuring the woman by solemn oath to which she answers, "Amen, amen"; 5) putting this oath down (which contained God’s Name)  in writing and rubbing off the ink in the water that is in the earthenware bowl; 6) elevating the meal offering, presenting it on the altar, and turning a token part of it into smoke on the altar; 7) making the woman drink the spell-inducing water of bitterness.

Burning God’s Name was considered one of the worse acts of sacrilege. According to the Talmud, Apostomos, captain of the occupation forces, publicly burned the Torah - both acts considered open blasphemy and desecration and became one of the principle reasons why the Sages created a Jewish fast day for the 17^th of Tammuz. [6]

In many synagogues, old Siddurim (prayer books), Torah mantels, teffilon (phylacteries), tallit, and mezuzoth, are placed in the synagogue genizah (hidden places). Traditionally, such places were often situated under the bimah (where the Torah is read), behind the ark in a small adjacent room, or in a cellar—as was the case with the Bokhara synagogue in Tehran. When the geniza became full, they would take the items to be buried at the synagogue once every ten years. The burial was believed to help induce a healthy rainy season. The manner in which this was carried out was with solemnity, followed afterward by a special banquet.

As you can see, the religious faiths of the world share many attitudes and customs regarding their sacred literature. In short, I think all religions can and ought to learn some practical lessons from one another. Let such a venture mark the beginning of our collective and personal spiritual healing.

Continue Reading

For Jewish Values Online:

Are Haredim changing the face of Traditional Judaism? Is the divide between the ultra-Orthodox and other denominations (Modern Orthodox, Conservative and Reform) too great to promote a better understanding and respect between each other?

Question: Why do we say “baruch dayan ha’emet” when someone dies?

Answer: Since the days of the Mishnah, Jewish tradition prescribes a special blessing for nearly all aspects of Jewish life. There are blessings said over new fruits; there are blessings said before the performance of a religious precept; there are blessings even for when you see the President or the Czar! Every aspect of life is bound up with the theme of blessing. In fact, the fundamental meaning of the word, “Jew” means in Hebrew, “to give thanks.”

With this thought in mind, the Sages teach there are blessings for happy occasions, and there are blessings for sad occasions. The exact nature of a sad occasion is a matter of discussion. According to the Talmud, when hearing bad news one must acknowledge God as the “Just Judge,” (Dyyan HaEmeth—literally, “the Judge of Truth”). Originally, this blessing was not limited to death per se, but applied to any kind of tragic news, e.g., the loss of one’s home due to a natural disaster or fire, the loss of the Temple, or the loss of a friend or valued family member who has died, and so on . . . [1]

The specific time to say this blessing is at the time of death itself. In practice, it is traditionally said before performing the kri’ah (the rending of the garment for an immediate family member or a spouse).[2] Note that there is no blessing ever said for tearing a garment since blessings are never said for acts of destruction. Some authorities hold that the kri’ah should be done in public—which is when the feelings of grief are strongest and most visceral.[3] The blessing should be said with God’s Name, i.e., Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam Dyyan HaEmet.

The Talmud teaches in the name of Rabbi Akiba, “A person should always accustom himself to saying, “Whatever the All-Merciful does, is for the ultimate good.” To illustrate the truth of this principle, the Talmud tells an anecdote about Rabbi Akiba. Once he arrived at a village and looked for a local hotel. To his dismay, there were no vacancies to be found. So, Rabbi Akiba decided to camp out in a quiet field; he brought with him a rooster, an ass, and a lamp for the evening. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew out the lamp! Then a weasel suddenly attacked and ate the rooster. A lion appeared and ate the ass! In every instance, Rabbi Akiba affirmed, “Whatever the All-Merciful does is for the good!” Later next day, Rabbi Akiba discovered that some robbers attacked and kidnapped several of the townspeople![4]

As mentioned above, in Jewish tradition, upon hearing about the death of a loved one, it is customary to say this blessing. Obviously, it is not easy to acknowledge God in a time of death; in fact, it’s probably much more natural to feel resentment toward God for taking a loved one away–especially when the person who just died happens to be a young child or adult. Nevertheless,  the blessing teaches us on some psychological level to acknowledge that the binary opposites of Creation, e.g., light and darkness, good and evil, suffering and prosperity—all serve a higher purpose and contribute toward the overall welfare of the world. Were it not for death, the world could not contain or sustain all of the world’s inhabitants; there would be food shortages, war, and countless other social evils. Death is what we share with all that has ever lived.

When consoling someone, it is important to acknowledge their pain and loss. Mouthing platitudes about “God is just,” or telling someone, “I know how you feel,” are inappropriate ways to express condolence. The simple truth is, you don’t know what the mourner is experiencing. One might ask, “How appropriate is it to tell the mourner to say something he or she might not be willing to acknowledge?” Perhaps it is best to follow the sensible advice of R. Simeon b. Eleazar  who says, “Do not try to comfort our fellow when the corpse of his beloved is lying before him . . .”[5] Ecclesiastes also offers some practical advice as well: “A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to be silent, and a time to speak” (Eccl. 3:7). In the beginning of the Jobian story, Job’s friends “offered sympathy and comfort” (Job 2:11). They expressed no verbal criticism of him. Sometimes we have to simply “let it be.”

When we lose someone to an illness, it is worth remembering that it is better to live a good life than to live a long and meaningless life. Death is sometimes preferable to a life of pain and incessant suffering. From this perspective, death is a release. Although none of us know the amount of time we have, we must make the most of the precious gift of time that God has allotted us. The blessing teaches us to be grateful for the gift we were entrusted with, but no gift of life can last forever. Sooner or later, we will lose what we have loved until we meet again with our loved one in the world of Eternity. Continue Reading

Question: We are told in the Torah that certain actions will cause “karet,” i.e., that the person will be cut off from the nation. What about those Haredi fanatics who are harassing people and vandalizing property? Shouldn’t that earn them “karet” as well? Why should they continue to be part of our nation?

Answer: The question is an interesting one, but before answering, I think it is important to define our terms before we venture forward. Once we define the terms, we will then examine whether or not karet is really applicable with respect to the Haredi behavior.The term karet literally means, “extirpation,” “cut off,” or “cut down,” and is related to the Assyrian word, karâtu, which conveys the same idea of “cutting.” The notion of karet implies being “cut off” from the community of Israel.

As to the nature of being “cut off,” this is  a matter of discussion.

Rabbinical tradition lists 36 types of transgressions that effectively “cut off” the soul from its spiritual root—God. Some early rabbinical texts view the act of excision meant that the sinner would not live to see his 60th birthday, but others think the offender may live up to 70[1]. Should a sinner not die in the assumed time periods mentioned above, the fear of an imminent death probably exerted a frightening effect on the offender’s psyche.

The rabbinical perspective on karet resembles the type of punishments described in Greek mythology. Notions of eternal damnation as championed by Nachmanides, who believes the soul is cut off from God even in the world of Eternity, strikes a modern person as excessive. [2]  Maimonides believes that God denies the wicked sinner’s soul in the hereafter. [3] However, the Talmud does say the power of repentance and the Day of Atonement can suspend the heavenly punishment, and erase all vestige of sin. [4] Support for this perspective may be found in the Tanakh itself, “Cast away from you all the crimes you have committed, and make for yourselves a new heart and a new spirit. Why should you die, O house of Israel?For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone who dies, says the Lord GOD. Return and live!” (Eze.18:31-32).

There is another way of viewing karet that the Talmud and the medievalists did not consider. Karet has nothing to do with being “cut off” in the eternal sense from God.  Rather, it is a form of ostracizing. In a culture where individual identity was defined in terms primarily of the household group to which the individual be longed, karet may have originally meant social ostracizing from all aspects of community life. In pre-modern societies, being a member of the community strengthened both the individual and society as a whole.

Ostracizing meant the offender would have no social relations with his family, friends, business relations, and social network.  Such a penalty must have seemed like death itself. Apart from the community meant being cut off from the deeper reality of life that connects the soul to God. Being cut off had practical consequences, e.g., the loss of status and social privileges. The Christian and Jewish practice of excommunication may well have been inspired by the karet concept. The underlying theme in karet seems to focus on the maintenance of certain religious boundaries that have an important impact on the corporate character of the nation. The social implications of someone who did not practice ritual circumcision meant the family would not have anything to do with the son who separated himself from the religious and spiritual traditions of his family. It is no accident that karet is sometimes used as a metaphor for divorce (See Deut. 24:3).

With these thoughts in mind, let us return to the your original question regarding the Haredi community. Notions of karet as defined by the early rabbinic standards do not apply to the Haredim. Today’s Haredi separatism derives from  personal choice; they do not wish to have any contact with the non-Haredi Jewish community. They alone have cut the ties that bind them to the Jewish people.

This attitude can be seen in many ways, for example: Their leaders encourage them to destroy all their home-computers, as well as all phones that have wireless connections to the Internet.  Others believe that the pursuit of a secular education is sinful, since it comes at the expense of  giving up Torah study. They also believe that the Rebbe or Rav’s authority is infallible.

Although Haredim receive billions of dollars for their institutions, their separatist theology keeps their followers impoverished. On the one hand, they hate the State of Israel, but on the other hand they demand that the State continue supporting their lifestyle! To use another analogy, Haredim often behave like a spoiled adolescent girl who says, “I hate you Mom! Now, will you please drive me to the Mall?” The Israeli government needs to practice some “tough love” with the Haredim. The American Jewish community must make its financial support for Israel contingent upon Israel protecting the rights of all of its citizens. Continue Reading

Over a year has passed since the terrible Arizona shooting, when a gunman opened fire, killing six people and wounding 13 others.  Gabrielle Giffords, a conservative Democrat representing Arizona’s Eighth District, was among those wounded. She remained in critical condition after she survived a single gunshot to the head fired at point-blank range. Within three days after the shooting, one of her doctors described her chances of survival as “101 percent.” Her neurosurgeon, Dr. Dong Kim, called her progress “almost miraculous.”

We are all blessed with her recovery, but  greater challenges lie ahead for Gabrielle and ourselves as a nation, which sometimes teeters on the edge of insanity.

We wonder: Have we learned anything new from this devastating experience?

One bill that appeared before Congress proposed that the House of Representatives “reduce” the time allowed for criminal background checks. The Senate asked for a three-business day waiting period. The amended Bill in the House proposed a 24 hour waiting period. The reason: gun shows are very popular during the weekends. They argue that there would be no time to conduct a background check on people wishing to purchase arms.

Oh really?!

I think our politicians are living in Chelm, a place in Jewish history reserved for fools who think they are wise. If somebody wishes to purchase firearms at a convention, why don’t the new purchasers take the test one week before the gun show? What is wrong with this picture?

Over the last decade and a half, more and more states are starting to require psychological testing as a condition of hiring any full time police officer. Given the immense stress of the job, this decision makes perfect sense. In fact, schools across the country now require psychological testing for its faculty members. Even Wal-Mart requires psychological testing for its workers—perhaps because they sell firearms at their stores.

Now, it seems to me that the recent Arizona shooting might have been avoided had the state required psychological testing for anyone wishing to own a gun. In fact, if every state required psychological testing, we might be able to cut down the number of accidental shootings, or even willful shootings that seem to occur every year in our great nation.

One cannot expect a family to recognize or, for that matter, even be willing to admit that their son may have deep-rooted psychological problems requiring professional help. In addition, I think the question of machine guns, semi-automatic weapons, assault-rifles, and similar type weapons should be banned except for the military or police. Private individuals do not need to act like Rambo when a vagrant is breaking into their home. [1]

In Judaism, safety is a religious concern. The Bible requires that a roof be properly gated, in order to prevent people from falling off of it (Deut. 22:8). One precept in particular is especially important, “You shall not curse the deaf; you shall not put a stumbling block before the blind, but you will fear your God; I am YHWH ” (Lev. 19:14).

This verse includes two types of prohibitions: (1) placing a stumbling block in front of the blind for sport or entertainment, (2) taking advantage of someone’s ignorance–especially for pecuniary gain. The verse stresses that a God fearing person will not take advantage of anyone for any reason.

By the expression, “God fearing,” this is the biblical way of describing a moral person who acts with a reverence toward life. God-fearing also indicates that Creator and Judge of the world will hold all such offenders accountable for disrespecting human life. Authentic piety is best reflected by acts of compassion and consideration–especially toward individuals who suffer from a serious disability–whether physical, emotional, intellectual, and psychological. [2]

It is also instructive that Maimonides asserts that enabling someone to commit a crime, (e.g., the individual who offers a bribe, or offers to pay interest on a loan) violates the above biblical dictum.[3]

In light of the Arizona shooting—or for that matter, any other well-known shootings that we have seen in recent history, the Columbine or Virginia Tech incidents—the onus of responsibility cannot be placed on someone who is mentally-impaired or schizophrenic, or someone suffering from psychotic-break with reality.

It is not realistic to expect psychotics like Jared Lee Loughner to behave like normal citizens. I expect the judge will send him to a special hospital for the criminally insane. Local courts and governments have a duty to make it as difficult as possible in determining who can and ought to own a gun. Certain individuals should never own a gun of any kind. The duty to protect citizens is the government’s responsibility.

I would argue that we apply the same standards that exist for other professionals in our country also be applied to anyone wishing to own a gun. The time has come for the gun-lobby to start leading the campaign to protect the country from individuals who endanger public welfare. Ultimately, such a responsible move will not diminish the constitutional rights of owning a gun–but such sensible legislation will enable all of us to breathe easier.

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Although the Torah does not directly speak about willful destruction of the fetus as a “right,” nevertheless, the sanctity ancient Israel attributed to human life probably made abortion unimaginable.

The reason for this is simple: Infant mortality in biblical times was close to 50% and it is only natural that attitudes about voluntary abortion probably met with horror and disapproval. Arguments drawn from Scriptures seem inconclusive at best. The lone Pentateuchal source dealing with the legal status of the fetus comes from a section of Exodus dealing with the problem of miscarriage:

• When men have a fight and hurt a pregnant woman, so that she suffers a miscarriage, but no further injury, the guilty one shall be fined as much as the woman’s husband demands of him, and he shall pay in the presence of the judges. But if injury ensues, you shall give life for life” (Exod. 21:22–23).

The verse may be interpreted in a two ways:

It would seem that the Mosaic legislation considered the fetus property, and should not be viewed as living person, like its mother.  Financial compensation to the woman’s husband is determined by the judges, based on the development of the fetus. Such an interpretation has a parallel in the Hittite Laws, 17, in its treatment of the miscarriage. Most biblical translations regard verse 22 as referring to a miscarriage:

• Some scholars[1] translate v. 22-23 differently, “If men fight and hit a pregnant woman and her child is born prematurely, but there is no serious injury, he will surely be punished in accordance with what the woman’s husband demands of him, and he will pay what the court decides” (NET). The term אָסוֹן (˒āsôn) does not mean “death,” as interpreted in the Mechilta, but ought to be rendered as, “health complications,” or, “serious harm,” to the child. Accordingly, if the v. 23 may be speaking of the death of the fetus as well, and the assailant is subject to the death penalty.

Based on the latter deconstructive reading, the death of a well-developed fetus could be viewed as a capital offense. Moreover even v. 22 may not necessarily be speaking about miscarriage as such, but a pre-mature birth and would involve lesser injuries to the mother and the baby—depending upon its physical development. Thus, according to this view, the fetus could be viewed as having a status similar or identical to that of human beings.

Other ancient codes of the ancient Near East (ANE) viewed voluntary abortion in grave terms. According to the Middle Assyrian Laws dating back to 1600 B.C.E., observes that if a woman died as a result of having induced her own abortion, her body was publicly impaled and denied a proper burial.[2] Assyrians viewed this act of impaling as a form of tallionic justice on account of the mother’s murdering of her fetus. According to the laws of Lipit-ištar, as well as the Middle Assyrian Laws, if the woman dies, the man himself will be put to death.[3] The Code of Hammurabi also includes laws regarding miscarriages and determines a monetary settlement based upon the mother’s social status.[4] The Hittite laws do not deal with the cases where the mother dies. Continue Reading