Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Picture: Rabbi  Yona Metzger

A question came up recently in my congregation regarding the use of music at a Jewish funeral. The Reform Movement has long permitted the use of music at a Jewish funeral—provided the music does not derive from the Christian liturgy, e.g., Amazing Grace. Most Conservative and all Orthodox synagogues frown upon the use of music at a funeral because they feel it distracts the mourners from mourning. R. Isaac Klein’s book on A Guide to Jewish Practices, says nothing about it, one way or other. However, an argument ex silencio suggests that Rabbi Klein frowned upon this particular practice.

The question is not by any means a new Halachic issue.

About a year ago the Israeli Knesset member Rabbi Hanan Porat died; he was one of the founding members of the Gush Emunim, a religious Zionist organization that is very visible in settling the West Bank. At the rabbi’s funeral, his children sang and played some songs with a guitar that upset Rabbi Yona Metzger, the Chief Rabbi of Israel.  Rabbi Metzger made his opinion known, and is quoted as saying:

• Rabbi Shlomo Amar and I stared at each other and neither one of us knew what was going on –a band, guitars, children singing … One might think that the people came to attend a wedding! But this was a funeral! I have never heard of this kind of ‘mourning’ before–not in Israel, not in Europe, and I am sure not in Yemen. We have never heard of and never saw such a thing like this.[1]

Actually, I applaud the family’s innovative spirit—and I am sure the spirit of their father did not mind either.

The tradition of music in funerals is well attested in biblical, post-biblical texts, Mishnahic and medieval sources.

In biblical sources, the Hebrew term qînâ (qînôt), is an oral poetic music used for times of national calamity and mourning. The best known example of this kind of singing can be seen in the acrostic style of writing found in Lamentations. Indeed, one of the more extraordinary images of God in the Bible is that of a musician and composer. The prophet Jeremiah depicts God as mourning for Moab, “Hence the wail of flutes for Moab is in my heart; for the men of Kir-heres the wail of flutes is in my heart: the wealth they acquired has perished” (Jer. 48:36 NAB).

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus arrives at the ruler’s home and saw the flute players and a crowd making a tumult, he said, “Depart; for the girl is not dead but sleeping ” (Mt 9:23, 24; Mk 5:38, 39). The NT passage suggests that the flute players went to work immediately at the time of death, as well as the time leading to the internment.

Josephus writes that when the news reached Jerusalem of the fall of Jotapata to the Roman armies in 67 C.E., “Most people engaged flute-players to lead their lamentations.” This style of mourning was common throughout the ancient world; Greece, Rome, Phoenicia, Assyria all utilized the flute in times of loss. Roman funeral processions were especially known for being very noisy. Musicians used to lead the way blowing their trumpets, horns and flutes announcing the presence of the corpse.[2]

The wailing of the flute players, the cries of the mourners, the sound of torn garments, was unmistakably common in the cities of ancient Israel. Note that the Jewish mourners had no afterthoughts whether they were emulating the pagan gentiles or not.

In the Mishnah, we also find: רַבִּי יְהוּדָה אוֹמֵר, אֲפִלּוּ עָנִי שֶׁבְּיִשְׂרָאֵל, לֹא יִפְחוֹת מִשְּׁנֵי חֲלִילִים וּמְקוֹנֶנֶת R. Judah says, “Even the poorest man in Israel should not hire fewer than two flutes and one professional wailing woman [for a funeral]” (Ketubbot 4:4). Other Mishnaic sources speak about the use of pipes or flutes as a normal part of the Jewish funerals.[3] The rabbis lifted their prohibitions against women’s voices being heard in public were relaxed for funerary rituals.[4]

Maimonides similarly ruled  almost 1200 years later,”  When a man’s wife dies, he is obligated to bury her and to have eulogies and lamentations performed as is the local custom. Even a poor Jewish man should provide at least two flutes and one woman to lament.“[5]

Why is the music of the flute so special? Maimonides explains that the plaintive melody moves a person to tears at a funeral.[6] The Halachic Codes all acknowledge this custom.[7]

One 14^th century classical work on mourning, Kol Bo al Hilchot Aveilut  admits that during the Talmudic period music was part of the funeral, but rejects its reintroduction because it would be as a result of non-Jewish influence—undoubtedly referring to the Christians, who used music in their mourning rites. Some Halachic authorities had no problem with music being played at a funeral–so long as the musicians happened to be Jewish. It is interesting to note that this custom continued in Egypt during the early 19th century.

A very dear friend of the TBS synagogue died this past week. His name was Kurt Sax, and this Viennese Jew loved the Spanish guitar. In honor of his memory, two of his good friends played a couple selections  that Kurt really loved.  I can personally attest that the music was very  meaningful and moving for the family and their friends.

Was it traditional?

Maybe not by Rabbi Yona Metzger’s standards.

However, I will say Rabbi Metzger is right on one point. If a rabbi chooses to pursue such a path, it is important that he remind the people not to applaud, after all–it is a funeral and not a concert.

However, history has allowed this type of musical innovation. I think Jewish law and tradition needs to be less austere and  become innovative, as it once was before.  If Judaism is to be healthy, we must find a way to make our faith more appealing and less hung up on the external forms of Jewish piety.

In other words, it’s time to allow music to liberate the heart that inspires and experiences prayer—in good times and in bad times. Continue Reading

President Obama’s revelation surprised me. I wondered: Why did it take him so long to state his opinion? Wasn’t it obvious?

True, the President indicated that he had reservations on whether he should personally endorse same sex marriage, or not. Although I think the President would be wise to speak more about the economy, the question about accepting gay relationships and marriage is an important issue—but not because of its political ramifications. In a democratic society, the homogenization of public opinion is not always possible or even desirable. People have a right to their opinions on this subject—even if I, as a citizen, may not necessarily agree.

There is a higher issue at work here: it’s really about personal autonomy, i.e., the freedom for consensual adults to live one’s personal life without government interference. Therefore, I support anyone’s right to choose having a same-sex marriage.

In all honesty, I did not always feel this way.

Let me share a story with you. In the late 1980s, I lived in San Francisco and I was the rabbi of a Modern Orthodox congregation in the Richmond District of San Francisco. My father was a Holocaust survivor who had witnessed many terrible things in Auschwitz and Majdanek, two of the worse concentration camps of the Holocaust era. Hitler, as you may know, went after the gay community and killed approximately 15,000 in the camps. My father remembered seeing how they were treated. Their suffering left an impression upon him that he never forgot.

After settling in Alameda, CA., my father helped establish Alameda’s first Reform synagogue—Temple Israel. Well, one Sunday, I went to visit my father and he was on his way to attend a wedding. I asked him, “Where are you going?” He replied, I am going to be a witness for a gay Jewish wedding.” Feeling surprised—even shocked—I observed, “Dad, you never cease to amaze me; you are the last person I would have ever expected to participate in a marriage ceremony, given your religious background . . .” Dad replied with a smile, “What’s the matter with you son? What’s so terrible about two human beings wanting to affirm their love and commitment to each other?”

My Father’s words left a lasting impression. He helped me to look beyond the religious barriers that tend to stigmatize or marginalize feeling people in the name of “Tradition.” Just as I mentioned earlier, same-sex unions between consenting adults is a privacy issue. Nobody—whether it is the State or the Church or synagogue—has the right to micromanage people’s personal lives.

Earlier this past week, I briefly participated on an Orthodox blog named Hirhurim, and while I was on, I was surprised to read some of the comments regarding Rabbi Elliot Dorf, who happens to be an outstanding Conservative rabbinical scholar. One person felt it was wrong to call Rabbi Dorf by his title, “Rabbi,” since he endorses gay marriages. Some of us demurred. I wrote, “Whether you recognize Rabbi Dorf as a rabbi is not the issue here; it’s really about respect. You cannot go wrong showing kindness to another person. One can politely agree to disagree without being disagreeable.”

As the conversation ensued, one participant quipped, “According to the Torah, homosexuality is punishable by death!” I asked him, “Can you show me a single instance in Judaism where anyone was ever executed for being a homosexual?” He had no answer. I pointed out that there are two kinds of cases where a homosexual may be executed according to the Mishnah. One case pertains to someone who is threatening to sodomize a man, i.e., homosexual rape. Alternatively, the Mishnah may be speaking of someone threatening to sodomize an underage male child (BT Sanhedrin 73a). However, both cases appear to be only theoretical for there is no court record of any homosexual ever having been executed. If anything, the law is heuristic and intended for some future application, should the practical need arise. In the medieval Jewish period, the death penalty was sometimes administered on an ad hoc basis.

In our discussion, I explained that the scriptural basis of this law most likely derives from the famous biblical story of Lot and the angels:

• But before they laid down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, both young and old, all the people to the last man, surrounded the house; ⁵ and they called to Lot, “Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, so that we may know them.” (Gen 19:4-5).

Obviously, the townspeople were interested in not inviting the guests for coffee, cake or crumpets. However, one thing is motivating their behavior—a desire to show that they are in control.  Homosexual rape has nothing to with love or even, “free love (for you ex-Hippies). However, it has everything to do with dominance and control. This would also explain why the Torah considers the rape of a male—“an abomination” (Lev. 20:13). Although this term is not used for cases of ordinary rape, one must remember that in a patriarchal society, sodomizing someone against his will evokes disgust and primal fear. In fact, it still does—even in the 21^st century.

So, in the final analysis, what does this mean? For one thing, ancient Israel’s society differed considerably from our own. Just because Abraham and Sarah lived in tents, doesn’t mean that we should live in tents also in order to emulate their particular lifestyle. Monogamous male relationships probably did not exist, or, happened to be extremely uncommon in ancient Israel, as it later occurred in Greek and Roman societies. Therefore, the issue of a same-sex marriage is for all practical terms historically irrelevant.

In addition, I would add that there are numerous passages that we do not interpret the Torah literally. The Torah tells us to “circumcise the foreskin of our hearts” (Deut. 10:16). Yet, I do not know of any fundamentalist who would interpret this passage literally; if he did, he would be a fool. In fact, the rabbis frequently refused to interpret biblical legislation pertaining to the death penalty literally because of their concern for the social welfare of the community.[1] We do not stone people for adultery either. If we did, a sizable portion of our society would be dead by now.

Unlike the Fundamentalists of the evangelical community, which tends to focus on the literalism of biblical truth, Jewish tradition has long argued that exegetical interpretations are derived contextually as well. Evangelical scholars often derive the prohibition against same-sex marriage from the biblical passage, “Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh” (Gen 24:25).

While it is true the Genesis passage speaks of a marriage between a man and a woman who create new life, one must remember that marriage is not only for the sake of siring children. The emotional bond of marriage, i.e., “becoming one flesh” can also mean a fully monogamous life that involves sharing and caring to one another. Marriage is the most profound connection that binds two human beings as they face good and sorrowful times together. Each partner is always present supporting the other. “One flesh” entails a lifelong, exclusive attachment of one person to another—both physically and spiritually; this sharing involves a willingness to eliminate all the barriers that keeps their hearts apart from one another.

In summary,  a contextual reading of the Torah dealing with homosexuality allows for a more elastic postmodern interpretation that could conceivably permit same-sex marriages.

One last question arises: Is it Halachic?

Halacha is not a static system. It allows for a radical re-visioning of Jewish law based upon the ever changing social circumstances. Hillel, for example, permitted people to circumvent the agricultural laws of the Sabbatical Year—despite the fact scripturally speaking—all debts are cancelled.[2] People who have committed suicide used to be buried in the outer parameters of a Jewish cemetery as a sign of disgrace. Today, psychoanalysis has completely altered our understanding of suicide, which often has physical or psychological causes that overpower a mentally ill person. The rabbis of the Talmud did not understand or legislate against pedophilia, but given what we now know about this terrible social and psychological disease, we would be foolish to rely on the views of Sages that lived almost 2000 years ago who thought molesting a child was harmless.[3] Women never voted in biblical times; today, despite the fact that many Halachic scholars think it is biblically forbidden for women to participate in an election or even run for a political office[4] (see the Woman’s Suffrage debate of the early 20^th century in the halachic literature[5]).

For generations, the Orthodox homosexual has been marginalized, ignored, and often shamed for being “different.”

This can no longer be tolerated.

Across the Orthodox divide, more and more Orthodox gays are “coming out” and demand that they be treated honorably and lovingly by their families and by their communities. The world has changed, and so must the Halacha. Nobody has the moral or halachic right to expect or demand that a Jewish homosexual ought to spend the rest of his/her life in seclusion, bereft of a life companion. Continue Reading

One of the 20^th century’s greatest Jewish mystics, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, develops this theme in one of his most famous passages:

After the Flood, God lowered the standards of morality and justice He expected of humanity. We would no longer be culpable for slaughtering animals; we would only be held accountable for harming other human beings. Then our moral sensibilities, which had become cold and insensitive in the confusion of life, could once again warm the heart.  If the original prohibition against meat had remained in force, then, when the desire to eat meat became overpowering, there would be  little distinction between feasting on man, beast, or fowl. The knife, the axe, the guillotine, and the electric pulse would cut them all down, in order to satiate the gluttonous stomach of “cultured” man. This is the advantage of morality when it is connected to its Divine Source: it knows the proper  time for each objective, and on occasion will restrain itself in order to  conserve strength for the future.

In the future, this suppressed concern for the rights of animals will be restored. A time of moral perfection will come, when “No one will  teach his neighbor or his brother to know God – for all will know Me, small and great alike” (Jeremiah 31:33). In that era of heightened ethical awareness, concern for the welfare of animals will be renewed.

In the interim, the mitzvot of the Torah prepare us for this eventuality.  The Torah alludes to the moral concession involved in eating  meat, and places limits on the killing of animals. If “you desire to eat  meat,” only then may you slaughter and eat (Deut. 12:20). Why mention the “desire to eat meat”. The Torah is hinting: if you are unable to  naturally overcome your desire to eat meat, and the time for moral  interdiction has not yet arrived – i.e., you still grapple with not harming  those even closer to you (fellow human beings) – then you may slaughter and eat animals.  Nonetheless, the Torah limits which animals we are allowed to eat,  only permitting those most suitable to human nature.

According to Maimonides (Guide for the Perplexed  3:48), the animals permitted for food are those most suitable for the human body, and “no doctor will doubt this.” Ramban  disagreed, explaining that the permitted animals are the ones shechitah (ritual slaughtering) restrict the manner of killing animals to the quickest and most humane. With these laws, the Torah impresses upon us that we are dealing with a living creature, not some automaton devoid of life. And after slaughtering, we are commanded to cover the blood, as if to say, “Cover up the blood! Hide your crime!” These restrictions will achieve their effect as they educate the generations over time. The silent protest against animal slaughter will become a deafening outcry, and its path will triumph . . .[1] Continue Reading

Luke Chabner and I composed a Passover Seder Rap. We hope you like it.

 

Table 1

We’re so glad you came to our Seder

We knew you’d come, sooner or later!

Whether by a truck or an elevator,

From China, Alaska & the Equator

 

This is the bread of affliction we eat,

We welcome the stranger from the street

Without you, Seder ain’t complete

We’ve got a tasty dinner, with delicious meat!

 

Table 2

We will soon hide the Afikomen

Whether you’re Conan or just a Kohen

We hope you like our little slogan

We invited our favorite Japanese shogun!

 

We remember the ancient tale of yore

The day after we put blood on the door

Left so fast, our feet were sore

The Red Sea parted, we crossed ashore

 

Table 3

Sit down with Father and Matta

And take out your Maxwell House Hagadah

We can tell by the smile on your Cada,

We know you want a Pesach enchilada-

 

Find the youngest child, ask four questions

We look to the rabbi, to recite the blessins’

As we learn about the Pesach lessons

Before we sit down eat and fressen

 

Table 4

Passover is about leaving really fast!

God took us out of Pharaoh’s grasp

We left Egypt, by coach first class

We celebrate Passover, not a mass

 

Moses’ name is hardly mentioned

God is the hero, deserving of attention

More important than your earthly pension

Everyone left without dissension!

 

Table 5

We drink four cups of wine

East Passover lamb, and not a swine

It’s our history—yours and mine!

So follow Moses, and get in line!

 

We wandered in the desert for 40 years,

A place of bitterness, a place of tears

D’Seder teaches us, banish our fears

We clean out our homes, & throw out the beers

 

Table 6

From Chula Vista to La Costa

We eat lots of flat tasteless matza

More and more, lotsa and lotsas

This ain’t your mother’s Italian pasta

 

We remember herbs that are so bitter

Forget the glamor and all the glitter

Jewish suffering still gives us lots of jitters

Anti-Semites are nasty critters!

 

Table 7

Now let’s all point to the shank bone

We’re here together and not alone!

Kindly turn down your cell phone

Pray that tyrants are soon dethroned!

 

Every person must see himself

Leaving Egypt with Egyptian wealth

We left proudly, not in stealth

Eat your egg, it’s good for your health!

 

Table 8

We will soon eat Gefillte fish

With horseradish on your dish

Stay away from the potato knish

Swallow the horseradish, make a wish!

 

Sephardic Jews love eating lots of rice

But Ashkenazim are afraid of mice

Let me give you some good advice

Make sure you put some spice in your rice

 

Table 9

Take the Afikomen, out of your pocket

Open the door for Elijah the Prophet

He’s comin’ fast with the force of a rocket

Now earthly power can hardly stop it!

Continue Reading

Children have an unusual ability when it comes to confronting our spiritual hypocrisy as parents and as adults; very often they get to the essence of the problem as they perceive things. Frequently, as parents, we often fail to hear the questions our young people ask of us; often we overreact whenever we feel that our beliefs and values are being questioned or attacked. Rather than listening with an inner ear, as parents, we often react with harshness and anger.

Sometimes we wish our children were more respectful and compliant, or at least, “mind their place” at the Seder table and not misbehave or draw undue attention to themselves. As any Woody Allen fan certainly knows, passionate family discussions always have been a part of Jewish life since ancient times. Unanimity never has been the goal of any kind of discussion wherever you have two or more Jews together engaged in dialogue.

Passover is no exception to this rule.

During Passover, this thought finds expression in the question of the “Rasha” (better known to most of us as the “wicked child”). Without his presence and participation, the entire Seder would be a dull experience. Here is a literal translation of this controversial passage of the Passover Hagadah:

• The wicked son says, ‘What is this service to you?’ Note the Torah says, to you, but not to him; because he has excluded himself from the community. He has denied a basic teaching of the faith. Therefore, you shall smack his teeth and tell him, It is because of this that God wrought for me in my going out of Egypt (Exod. 13:8)‘For me–but not him. Had he been there, he would not have been redeemed.”

The smack in the mouth in front of an entire family creates a toxic atmosphere that is not conducive for sharing and celebrating the Passover holidays.

As a parent, I often have wondered how anyone could call their child “wicked.” The glaring meaning of “Rasha” is arguably offensive. If we are to choose a less offensive title, let us describe him or her as a “Wayward Child,” or perhaps more accurately a “Rebellious Child.” At any rate, our “Rasha” is a person who is a young person who stands perilously close to the edge of his/her Judaism.

Without a wise pedagogical response, the “Rasha” may grow up to disaffiliate as a Jew. Calling him a “Rasha” could become a self-fulfilling prophecy. So we wonder: Why does the “Rasha” strike such a visceral note? The anger of the father deserves special attention. Why does he get upset? How could a simple question push a parent to act so violently at the family Seder? Clearly, the “Rasha” has touched a raw nerve in his father.

If my conjecture is correct, the “wicked” son’s question now begins to make more sense, for she/he may be a child who is dissatisfied with superficial answers. The father may love tradition, but he lacks the ability to articulate to his rebellious adolescent child what it means to be a Jew, especially in a modern age. Of all the children who are present at the Seder table, the “Rasha” is asking the best question of them all.

On a deeper level, the question, “What does this service mean to YOU?” Put in different terms, the child asks, “If the Seder has no deeper meaning for YOU, why should it have any special meaning for ME? How can I make this Seder a self-authenticating experience if the Seder is nothing more than a mechanical exercise? Until I find out the answer, I will not be subject to you or any tradition until I know for sure what it really means, assuming that it means anything at all.”

Regardless of his son’s attitude, he must respond wisely and compassionately—and not with anger and violence. He might have considered saying, “Son, your question is an excellent question—it is precisely the question of this evening. Although I can only speak for myself, but I think the message of Passover applies to you as well. None of us would be celebrating this festive meal had it not been for this important celebration all of our ancestors’ experience of the Exodus. Had our ancestors opted not to leave, you would not recognize the world of the present. Freedom resonates in our soul precisely because our ancestors chose freedom over slavery. They chose the insecurity of freedom over the security of slavery. That is what the holiday means to me—and it might mean the same to you, if you really think about it.” Wise parenting can bypass the Oedipal  conflict that parents routinely experience with their adolescent children.

As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, children have a way of discerning a parent’s Achilles’ heel. A child intuitively knows when parents are just breezing through the motions of religious life—especially in when it pertains to religious ritual. Maybe the rebellious child has a good reason to rebel, for she/he instinctively knows when a parent is real or unreal. The “Rasha” may well see something hollow about his “religious” father.

As parents, Passover reminds us that we need to reexamine what it means to celebrate freedom. Hassidic mystics speak of Egypt as the place of limitations (as intimated by the name “Mitzraim,” the land of straits. On Passover, it is time for us to break out of our narrow-minded way of looking at the world. Passover reminds us to show compassion toward all who are disenfranchised or marginalized.

In all honesty, a wise and loving response from the father might inspire his rebellious son to rethink his attitude about the holiday. There is obviously more to the Seder than the matza ball soup! Continue Reading

For Jewish Values Online

Question: My wife and I are thinking about how our children should dispose of our bodies once we have passed. Having no love for the traditional methods, we went in search of alternatives. We discovered a thing called a body farm. In this method the bodies are staked out (often) in the open on a protected plot of land so that they might be studied concerning natural decay, then the information gathered is used for forensic studies and training concerning murder investigations, and other such things. We like the idea of this for two reasons; first it helps to assist the living, and second it returns the bodies to the earth in the quickest way possible. We will not go any further in this plan without guidance. Can you help?

Answer: In all honesty, forensics is not my area of expertise. However, I am familiar with some other issues pertaining to the treatment of the corpse according to the Halacha. With that thought in mind, I will try to present a well-thought-out answer to your question.

There is an important aspect about the body farm concept that you may not properly understand. You wrote, “Secondly, it returns the bodies to the earth in the quickest way possible.” Actually, that is not really the case. The body is exhumed and sampled many times over a period of weeks and months. Your body will not remain undisturbed. If that is a concern to you, then you may wish to consider other alternatives.

• What does Jewish Law have to say about this process?

In Jewish law, it is traditional to compare one type of case study with possible antecedents that share similar properties.  Two other areas of Halachic inquiry immediately come to mind that could shed some light on this topic: autopsies and donating one’s body for science.

• Autopsies

Ordinarily autopsies are forbidden because they disfigure the body. In addition, any part of the body that is not properly buried after the organ has been removed is a violation of Jewish tradition.

However there are some important exceptions to this rule. Autopsies are not only permitted, but sometimes required—especially if it helps doctors and the police discover relevant information about the cause of death. With respect to a mysterious contagion, autopsies can help the physician determine the causes of a disease, so as to prevent the deaths of others. An autopsy is especially helpful in diagnosing a hereditary disease, which could save the lives of surviving kin as well as their children, by determining an appropriate medical intervention strategy for dealing with the disease. [1]

Are body farms in some ways analogous, in that both forensic discipline aims to ascertain certain information about the possible causes of death? On the surface, they do serve a common goal and purpose.

Body farms do not (as I understand) prevent the loss of human life. Nevertheless, they help assist in murder investigations. Forensic studies can sometimes prove the innocence of an accused murderer (much like DNA testing has proven the innocence of people accused of murder). On the basis of this comparison, the body farm is permitted—provided the body is eventually interned after the studies have been completed in a Jewish cemetery. This same principle applies no less to autopsies, which require that all the organs be properly buried with the body.

• Donating One’s Body to Science

Your original question may be parsed in a different way: Is donating one’s corpse to a body farm any worse than donating a body to a medical school, for the purposes of anatomical study? This issue has also been discussed in much of the relevant Halachic literature.

Donating one’s body to science for anatomical studies is permitted according to a number of  Halachic authorities. For example: The Chief Sephardic Ashkenazi Ben Tsion Uziel of Israel ruled one might make one’s body available to first-year medical students to study anatomy provided that (a) the body parts are subsequently buried according to Jewish law (b) and provided that one does not sell one’s body for money.[2]  However, among contemporary Halachic authorities, R. Ovadia Yosef ruled that, “He who donates his body to science, to have his organs dissected, even though his intention is to advance scientific research, he is committing a serious offense, and might be relinquishing the chance of resurrection of his soul and body. Therefore, we must not mourn his death.”  [3]

Although there is considerable debate within Jewish thought as to what exactly constitutes “resurrection,” (some Orthodox rabbis believe in a physical resurrection; others believe in a spiritual resurrection that occurs after death). Clearly R. Ovadia Yosef, like other rabbis before him, believes in physical resurrection. Of the two approaches, I personally follow the view of Rav Uziel, as well as Rabbi Yitzhak HaLevi Herzog, who permits donating one’s body for the scientific study of anatomy.

The concern for human life is the basis for many cadaver donor transplants. The prohibition from deriving benefit from the dead does not apply to donating organs that can improve the quality of human life.[4]  A transplanted organ is considered to still be “alive” when it is functioning in a living person. By the same token, transplanting an organ is not considered to be a desecration of the dead. There is no greater mitzvah than bringing life to the living, whether it is the gift of an eye, skin, or other tissues that enhance the process of healing. In the final analysis, every organ—sooner or later—will be interned with the demise of the beneficiary. Consent from the living is, however, a requirement.[5]

As mentioned above, the body still needs to be properly interned after the examinations have been completed. By the same token, one is not allowed to sell one’s body to the medical college. From this perspective, the same principle ought to apply to the body-farm concept as well.

• Other Alternatives

Rabbinical decisions often consider contrarian perspectives. While this may seem rather confusing to someone who is unfamiliar with this type of reasoning process, it serves to give the individual ample space to make a personal decision. As a rabbi, it is my duty to present both sides of an argument. Ultimately, each person must decide for him/herself. Bearing this thought in mind, let us examine this issue from a different point of view.

Anatomists often debate this issue among themselves. One school of thought argues that dissection is necessary to learn medical gross anatomy, while the contrarian perspective argues that dissection is not necessary to learn medical gross anatomy. Within this next decade, the development of holographic technology may make the traditional use of the cadaver a thing of the past.

Due the availability of cadavers, time limitations of the classes, and economic factors, it is important to note that not all medical schools offer courses in dissection. Computer-assisted programs such as Computer-assisted learning (CAL) packages are becoming increasingly more sophisticated, which offer an alternative to dissection.[6] With the explosion of medical technology and informational sciences that now exists, some medical schools superimpose  3D images of the human body upon the flesh of the student to demonstrate the relationship, size, and position of the various body parts. In addition, anatomy databases provide a much faster panoramic view and information about the human body than any cadaver can possibly provide. One can trace the images of a healthy person at age 20, and with the imaging software, one can literally follow the aging process from birth to death.

However, it is generally agreed that the CAL can never fully replace the intellectual, educational and emotional experience afforded to medical students by cadaver dissection provides.

In light of this, the forensic sciences also use the same kind of imaging software detailing how a body can decompose in a variety of different ways. The 3D imaging provides pictures of what a body might look like underwater, or if the body was burnt beyond recognition, diseased, and so on. Similar technological advances are also being used with animals, where vivisection is rapidly becoming passé.[7] Ergo, donating one’s body to science may not necessarily be a matter of pikuach nefesh (saving a life), as some scholars once thought–largely because of the new medical technology.

In light of the above, I would say that the CAL medical technology may already make the body farm concept unnecessary based upon the medical databases dealing with decomposition that are available on international databases. This knowledge may give you another reason to reconsider decision.

A Jewish cemetery provides an important place for your children and friends to come and visit you. The soil of the grave is considered sacred ground in nearly all civilizations around the world—and for good reason—it is a place where you can honor your loved ones; it is ultimately the place where others will someday hopefully honor and remember you. Some of the ancients believe that the greatest immortality one can receive is when others remember you for the person you were. Continue Reading

Purim has a “carnivalesque”  quality both in terms of its original narrative, as well as how the holiday is celebrated. Despite its joyous display of festivities and mardi gras, the holiday masks a very serious reality—the precarious nature of Jewish survival.

One of my favorite literary critics, the 20th century Russian literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin, defined the carnivalesque as a literary mode that subverts and liberates the  assumptions of the dominant style or atmosphere through humor, chaos, and paradox.

The carnivalesque vision is utopian in that it exposes the hierarchical distinctions of our social order as arbitrary, relative–a matter of social convention.  Hans Christian Andersen’s famous short story, The Emperor’s New Clothes, illustrates the carnivalesque spirit that ridicules monarchs who believe that their social position makes them inherently superior to the common person is altogether ridiculous–even illusory.

The experience of the carnival–with all the social niceties, hierarchies within a given social order, perceptions of truth, the concepts of reverence or piety and etiquettes–are profaned and overturned by normally suppressed voices and energies. A fool may suddenly appear wise, kings may transform into beggars, worlds of opposites co-mingle as if reality itself has turned upside down upon its head.

Many of Bahktin’s ideas can be seen in the story of how Esther and Mordechai thwarted a genocide that was being planned against the Jewish people.

In the book of Esther, the King’s penchant for partying, immediately displays to the reader a surreal world where the beautiful Queen Vashti is suddenly treated as  though she were a common stripper at a bachelor party.

Vashti’s transformation as a well-respected woman to someone who is banished from the kingdom is contrasted by an equally far-fetched scenario–Esther’s ascent to the royal throne. No sooner does Esther become queen, a deadly threat  emerges that threatens the people of Esther–Haman.

Haman’s rise to power is mysterious and rapid. No sooner had the Jews started to feel comfortable in their new Persian home, then suddenly–they are about to be annihilated by a foe who hates them for merely being religiously different.

As with Vashti and Esther, Haman’s ending is equally unpredictable as it is topsy-turvy. The man who obviously aspires to become King, ends up getting hung or impaled because of his hubris. Normalcy returns to the kingdom and the Jews live to see another day–and then some.

Even God undergoes a carnivalesque transformation in Esther. Far from being the revealed Deity of the Exodus, God is invisible throughout the Esther narrative. Yet, it is when God is most hidden, His Presence can still be felt through the downfall of the Jews’ archetypal enemy–Haman. Continue Reading

California — Whenever I read the Lubavitcher website, it seems as if we are reliving history.  The Lubavitcher lynching of Shmuley Boteach reminds me of how the 17th century Dutch Jewish community treated one of its heretical spirits and his name was Uriel da Costa (1585-1640).

“I will send rain on the earth for forty days and forty nights.” —(Gen. 7:4)

Forty  is a portentous number, for it represents the fullness of time. In general, it is usually a round number or estimation more so than an actual precise chronological measurement of time. As the medium of purification in the Torah, water has a unique power in that it can dissolve all the sundry forms it encompasses. In the realm of ritual, the waters of purification determine a new status, hence a new creation. Rabbinic literature develops this concept concerning the various laws pertaining to ritual purification and conversion.

In the Mishnah, for example, the waters of the mikvah (a “ritual bath”) must contain 40 se’ah (approximately 120 gallons) of water—the amount that is necessary to completely cover the human body as it undergoes ritual purification.[1] Ritual immersion represents a symbolic death for the person undergoing ritual. Upon arising, s/he becomes like a new person, as indicated by the Talmudic dictum, “Anyone who has become a proselyte is likened to a newborn baby.”[2]

Ritual immersion always introduces a change in status. For a priest, immersion enables him to eat from the priestly tithes; for the leper, immersion terminates his ceremonially impure  status and facilitates his reintegrate to the community. In the same manner, the Flood lasted for 40 days and 40 nights and served as a means of purifying and purging the world of the violence that had infected it.[3]

Throughout the Tanakh and much of early rabbinic tradition, the number 40 is also associated with dramatic change, upheaval,[4] judgment [5] , hardship, affliction and censure, temptation and punishment, probation, [6] purification, forgiveness,[7] wisdom,[8] redemptive rescuing (as evidenced here) and finally, revelation.[9] The Jewish mystical tradition also sees a profound relationship among all these seemingly disparate nuances associated with the number.

On a psychological level, the number 40 seems to suggest that it is only when we are most broken and humbled we become spiritually open and receptive to God’s revelation and promise of renewal. From a Jungian perspective, 40 also corresponds to the period of life commonly known as midlife, when one often experiences turbulent changes as one comes to grips with mortality and the meaning of human existence. At midlife, that is when we start asking the great questions–even now as we wade our way through the current economic deluge our country is experiencing. Use this time to rediscover the real “You.” Continue Reading

I could not help but read the Chabad reaction to Shmuley Boteach’s new book, Kosher Jesus. Most of us, who have no inner access to the Chabad inner circle, might be surprised by the ferocity of the Lubavitchers’ reactions.

Rabbi Yitzchok Wolf, Dean of SJ Abrams Cheder Lubavitch Hebrew Day School in Chicago, wrote a scathing attack on Boteach’s book, even though he did not bother reading it. Wolf writes, “With utter contempt I have read the title of Shmuely Boteach’s new book ‘Kosher [Yoshke].’” Note that “Yoshke” is the contemptuous name Hasidic Jews give to Jesus.

Wolf goes on to say, “This book is telling the Jews to reclaim J…, the authentic J…, the historical J…, the Jewish J….” and to be inspired by his “beautiful” teachings, as this author and TV show host told Ha’aretz this week in Jerusalem. This book poses great danger to thousands of unsuspecting Jews who are approached daily by Jews for J with the sole purpose of getting them to embrace Christianity. To Jews for J this book will now become the Jewish Rabbinical textbook urging embracing Yoshke as an authentic Jew, urging us to be inspired by him, G-d forbid.”

My old Professor Lewis Rambo (no relation to Sylvester Stallone) once explained how closed societies build a force field around their communities; contact with undesirable people or thinkers are in a manner of speaking, quarantined. Since Boteach’s days at the Chabad House of Oxford, G.B., Chabad has always viewed Boteach with suspicion. After all, what kind of Chabadnik writes articles for Playboy Magazine, or associates with people like Michael Jackson?

The other reactions from the Lubavitcher community are laced with criticism. “Thank you for saying what nobody seems to have the courage to say…” Another person writes, “Thank you Rabbi Wolf, it is refreshing to see a Shliach [Lubavitcher emissary] who is not afraid of what others will think, and not afraid to say the truth… The silence is deafening . . . we should be hearing an outcry”

Reacting to Wolf’s condemnation of Kosher Jesus, one man writes, “This is quite possibly the most judgmental, disparaging, close minded statement EVER made on this site. It’s obscene and unheard of to not only “judge’ but condemn a book by its cover.”

Then again, the critic cites Wolf, “There is absolutely no need to read the actual content of the book; the title will do more harm than imaginable, Heaven forbid!!

The condemnations get even more interesting:

• I  just read the Ha’aretz article and comments—what Boteach has done is a complete Chillul HaShem. He has no Rav, no Mashpia and clearly suffers from delusions of grandeur and messianic complex. I used to like Shmuely until I was in Israel and turned on the television in my hotel room to discover him on his show with a women who had been recently widowed and he COULDN’T STOP HUGGING HER. He decided that shomer nagiah no longer applies to him. To me, that was the beginning of the end. We cannot trust anything he says or does. Will the frum world put him in Cherem? We must take action to stop this ego maniacal monster. He is rewriting our holy Torah.

Another reader argues that public condemnations of Boteach’s book are actually helping Boteach sell more books! He writes:

• Rabbi Wolf, how much did Shmuely pay you to make this most horrendous statement? Nothing sells books like controversy. You noticed the title (don’t judge a book by its cover) and what was written second hand. Had you a least gone to Amazon and read the table of contents, you would have seen a major section of the book is “WHY JEWS CAN’T BELIEVE IN J.”Seems you have been duped.

One person makes an observation that I completely endorse.

• Rabbi Boteach’s book shows that Yushke wanted people to keep Halacha completely and shows that Yushke did not think he was a god, and that the Christians rewrote his life story and lied about him. There are 100,000 Jews who have converted to Christianity in America and no one is successfully doing anything to reach out to them and bring them back to torah. This book could help them return to Yiddishkeit. This book {shows}Christianity is a lie and is a very good tool in anti missionary work.

This particular respondent hits the nail on its head. Boteach has taken a bold step in trying to reach out to the Messianic Jewish community, in an effort to raise some cognitive dissonance among its ranks.

Personally, I have engaged a number of “Jews for Jesus” in discussion with the sole purpose of showing them how and why the Jesus of Christianity is the creation of Paul and the Early Church Fathers. Historically, Jesus’s brother James, felt nothing but contempt for Paul. In his view, Paul transformed Jesus into something that was totally alien to Jesus’s overall message. Once I have demonstrated James’ negative opinion of Paul the Apostle, a fair number of the Jews for Jesus have abandoned their cult, and I have helped many of them return to Judaism. In the controversial 1988 film, The Last Temptation of Jesus Christ, producer Martin Scorsese (a Catholic), took quite a bit of heat from the Christian world when he portrayed Jesus as a sensuous man, who marries Mary Magdalene, raises a huge family and lives a full life.

True to my contrarian nature, I argued that the real heresy is when Jesus in a vision (produced by Satan himself), hears Paul the Apostle preaching about the miracle of Jesus’ resurrection; Jesus discovers that his mother was a virgin, while he is  “son of God.” Jesus confronts Paul, and asks him, “Did you ever see this ‘Jesus of Nazareth?’  Paul sheepishly admits, all he saw was the blinding white light on his way to Damascus.

Jesus then reveals his identity to Paul. Bluntly, Jesus asks, “Why are you promoting this nonsense about me ‘rising from the dead’ ?  . . . I live a normal and happy life for the first time . . .” and he threatened to expose Paul for the fraud he was.  Paul basically admits that he made up the story because people need someone to believe in and that he was willing to make up just about anything so that people would believe in something that would give purpose to their lives.  Striking is Paul’s comment, “I will crucify you and resurrect you if I have to. . .  The Jesus Christ I believe in is greater than you . . .”

It is a pity Shmuely does not refer to the Last Temptation. It’s a greater pity Shmuely didn’t write an entire chapter about James, Jesus’s brother. Unlike Paul, who believes a man is saved by faith alone, James differs; he is concerned about the primacy of deeds; behavior reflects one’s true values and faith more so than all the platitudes about faith. No man can be “saved” by faith alone—as Paul taught, but each man can gain Eternity through living an ethical life that includes integrity and compassion. When reading the book of James, we can better understand Jesus’s real message. It is a pity the Early Church did not name itself, “Paulanity,” instead of “Christianity.” Paul alienated the Jewish community from Jesus more than anyone else. Boteach seems to share this position as well. It is a pity that Lubavitchers are not looking at the total picture here.

Lubavitchers do not want to know anything about Jesus. For them, Jesus is the reason why so many Jews have died throughout for almost 2000 years. The Rebbe and his followers would rather hold on to a medieval mindset and ignore the facts that contradict rabbinic opinions found in the Talmud and Maimonides.

Modern NT scholars have shown that the historical Jesus is not the same as the Jesus of Paul and the Early Church. The Jesus Seminar scholars have done a fabulous job showing the evolution of the NT and how the New Testament assumed its present form.

If Jesus were to appear today, he would scarcely recognize the religion that has arisen in his name. In all likelihood, he would attend a synagogue for Shabbat services and conduct himself like a religious Jew—and not a Christian. Continue Reading