I Love the Beautiful Chaos of a Jewish Funeral

— There is something quite moving about all this grief amongst all this routine.

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It was only relatively recently that I learned that holding funerals within 24 hours was a Jewish custom, and not the general norm. I’ve been extremely lucky in having gone to quite few funerals, and almost all of these have been those of Jewish family members, so it simply didn’t occur to me that we might be doing anything unusual in having them so quickly. Without the understanding that this wasn’t standard practice, I didn’t consider it exceptional — but the impact it has on the process of mourning can be, in my opinion, a significant and unifying one.

In the Torah, we are told that “You shall bury him the same day. His body should not remain all night.” And traditionally, the urgency of the funeral is linked to the importance of returning the body to the earth and allowing the soul to return to God. As a culturally-not-religiously Jewish person, I was unaware of both the scriptural and spiritual reasoning until very recently. I would have placed the emphasis on the emotional reasoning, which argues that the immediate experience of loss, mourning and proximity to death is a deep pain to feel, and one which should not be undergone any longer than absolutely necessary. Now it seems clear to me that it’s more about custom than anything else. Either way, I have come to hold it as an immensely important, beautiful aspect of the Jewish culture around death.

In December, my great-great auntie Marjorie became quite ill and we as a family braced ourselves for an upcoming funeral. She, along with much of my family, lived in Manchester, so in the lead-up to her passing, the London sect of us were on slight tenterhooks in anticipation of journeying up on little notice. In these moments, the banal and the profound are forced to find some kind of harmony. When contemplating loss is simply too vast, logistics take on a special importance.

In some ways, the knowledge that you’re just waiting for a death to occur so that the chain of events can start to unfold can be quite tiring. Maintaining a state of urgency over an extended period of time is logistically and emotionally tricky, and having to be pragmatic in the face of something so sad can feel like an unnecessary added encumbrance. But ultimately, there is no actively good time for a funeral. No one is looking at their diary and finding the perfect date to dedicate to doing something none of us want to do. In some ways, recognizing that the funeral will be hard no matter what, and then allowing it to take precedence over all other commitments, is the best way to allow a loss the appropriate space it deserves in our lives.

When the day arrived, a large portion of it for me was taken up by travel. We woke up to cancelled trains — standard — and then huddled alongside however many other disgruntled passengers at Euston. My mum’s cousin Caroline and I ran at absolute breakneck pace through crowds of people to get seats as soon as the platform was announced. On the drive from the station to the cemetery, we passed innumerable family monuments: the prison to which my uncle was told his parents had been sent in a prank by his cousin, the sandhills where Caroline reported “practically torturing” my mum when they were little, the shop to which it was a very grown up privilege to be allowed to walk to alone. Despite most of my visits to Manchester now being for funerals, the city will always feel full of life. Our memories and our history are part of the fabric of the place, and so many of those who we’ve lost are kept alive in the stories we can’t help but keep telling.

The funeral itself was brief and beautiful. My great-great aunt was a truly incredible person whose innate kindness and protectiveness distinguished her as remarkable to everyone around her. With it all having to come together so quickly, the words people choose take on a special significance: they are candid, and emotional, and cut straight to the core.

And yet, alongside mourning and meaning exists the mundane. People keep being people, and we continue to have to get ourselves from A to B. On the journey back to the station after the funeral, I sat squashed between my uncle and my grandfather in the backseat of my great uncle’s car, and we sat for a short eternity in a gridlock outside my grandma’s primary school, entertained by stories about that time of her life. When we finally got to the station, we caught a train by the skin of our teeth. By holding funerals so quickly, we force our lives to fit into the space around them, and require them to find a way to enmesh themselves into the day to day. There is something quite moving about all this grief amongst all this routine.

Sitting on trains gives you the wonderful gift of time to think. I reflected on my privileged position, experiencing the funeral of someone so beloved as a peripheral mourner, and how this offered another insight into the magic of having a funeral within 24 hours of a death. With this custom, in the direct aftermath of losing someone the people closest to the deceased are immediately wrapped in love. Their family and friends flock to them and make sure they aren’t alone with their grief. The initial experience of living without someone involves being in a room full of people who are there to remember and celebrate them. A funeral within 24 hours catches you just as you fall into the abyss.

And whilst there are undeniable impracticalities, the system manages to account for most. For those who are unable to make it, attending a shiva in the coming days offers them another chance to support and commemorate and mourn for themselves, as well as to contribute to the elongation of the period in which those closest to the deceased are surrounded by care. Whilst the funeral comes quickly, this does not mark the end of the grieving process — rather, it’s the beginning of the talking, processing and feeling. I am grateful that, thanks to Jewish custom, that beginning starts within 24 hours of a death. It’s exactly what we need.

Complete Article HERE!

From Christianity to Buddhism

— A Comprehensive Guide to Religious Funerals

By EMMANUAL

Funerals hold significant cultural and religious importance worldwide. These rituals mark the end of a person’s life and provide an opportunity for communities to mourn, remember, and celebrate the departed soul. Regardless of different religious beliefs, funerals share a common thread of honoring the deceased and offering solace to the grieving. Let’s explore the diverse types of funeral practices observed in different religions around the globe, each reflecting the unique perspectives on life, death, and the afterlife.

1. Funeral Practices in Christianity:

Christianity, one of the world’s largest religions, views death as a transition to an eternal life with God. Christian funerals typically involve a somber yet hopeful tone, focusing on the belief in resurrection and salvation. Funeral services often include prayers, hymns, scripture readings, eulogies, and the sharing of memories. Burial is a common practice, with cemeteries serving as sacred grounds for the departed.

2. Funeral Customs in Islam:

In Islam, death is considered a natural part of life, and the afterlife is a fundamental belief. The Janazah (funeral) rituals are guided by Islamic principles and usually take place soon after death. The body is washed, shrouded in a simple cloth, and a specific prayer, Salat al-Janazah, is performed in congregation. Muslims bury their deceased facing Mecca, emphasizing humility and equality in death.

3. Jewish Funeral Traditions:

Judaism, with its rich traditions and customs, approaches death as a continuation of the soul’s journey. Jewish funerals prioritize the prompt burial of the deceased, often within 24 hours of death. The deceased is ritually washed (Tahara) and dressed in a plain white shroud (Tachrichim). Eulogies are avoided, and the focus is on prayers, Psalms, and the sharing of memories during the funeral service.

4. Hindu Funeral Ceremonies:

Hinduism, a complex and diverse religion, regards death as part of the soul’s cycle of rebirth (Samsara). Antyesti, or the Last Rites, is a crucial funeral ceremony in Hindu traditions. The body is cremated, and the ashes are often scattered in a sacred river. Hindu funerals may also include other rituals such as Pinda Daan, offering rice balls to the deceased for spiritual liberation.

5. Buddhist Funeral Observances:

Buddhism, known for its teachings on impermanence, interprets death as a transition to another life or state. Buddhist funerals vary among different cultures but commonly include chanting, reciting sutras, and performing rituals to guide the soul towards a positive rebirth. Cremation is a widespread practice, and some Buddhist communities also practice sky burials or water burials.

6. Sikh Funeral Rites:

Sikhism emphasizes the unity of the soul with the eternal creator, and death is seen as a merging of the soul with the divine. The Antam Sanskar, or Last Rites, involves bathing the body, followed by prayers and hymns from the Guru Granth Sahib (Sikh scriptures). Sikhs opt for cremation, considering it a way to liberate the soul from the cycle of birth and death.

7. Traditional Chinese Funeral Customs:

Chinese funeral traditions are deeply rooted in ancestral worship and veneration. Chinese families pay great respect to their ancestors and believe in maintaining strong familial connections even after death. Funeral rites include elaborate ceremonies, offerings, and prayers. Burial, cremation, and entombment in family graves are practiced based on regional and cultural differences.

8. Native American Funeral Traditions:

Native American communities have diverse spiritual beliefs, each with its unique funeral customs. The concept of death often involves a cyclical view of life and rebirth. Funeral practices include rituals, dances, and ceremonies that honor the deceased and guide their spirits to the afterlife. Burial methods vary, such as ground burials, tree burials, or sky burials.

9. African Traditional Funeral Ceremonies:

African traditional funeral customs are deeply connected to ancestor veneration and the spiritual world. These rituals differ widely across the continent’s diverse cultures. Funerals are elaborate events, often lasting several days, and include dancing, singing, and feasting. Burials may take place in family graveyards or sacred sites.

10. Ancient Egyptian Funeral Rituals:

The ancient Egyptians believed in an afterlife and devoted considerable effort to ensure a smooth transition for the deceased. Mummification was a significant part of the funeral process, preserving the body for the journey to the afterlife. Elaborate ceremonies and rituals were conducted to honor the deceased and seek protection in the afterlife.

11. Modern Secular Funeral Practices:

In modern times, secular or non-religious funerals have gained popularity. These services often focus on celebrating the life of the deceased rather than emphasizing religious beliefs. They may include personalized elements, music, and readings that reflect the individual’s interests and values.

12. Comparative Analysis of Funeral Practices:

When examining funeral practices across various religions, common themes of reverence for the deceased and comforting the bereaved emerge. Despite differences in rituals, these practices share the purpose of providing closure and honoring the departed soul.

13. Perceptions and Attitudes Towards Death:

Cultural and religious beliefs significantly influence how societies perceive and approach death. Understanding these differences fosters tolerance and compassion in times of grief. Coping with loss is a deeply human experience, transcending cultural boundaries.Funerals, regardless of religious affiliations, are a testament to humanity’s shared experience of life and death. Each type of funeral bears witness to a community’s beliefs, values, and traditions, offering solace to the bereaved and celebrating the life of the departed. Embracing the diversity of funeral practices enriches our understanding of the human journey.

Complete Article HERE!

Jewish Funeral Customs

— 20 Things You Should Know

Jewish funeral customs have been shaped by centuries of religious tradition and cultural practices. These customs are designed to show respect for the deceased and provide comfort to the grieving family.

If you have been invited to a Jewish funeral or wish to offer support to a Jewish friend in mourning, it is essential to familiarize yourself with these customs.

In this blog post, we will cover 20 things you should know about Jewish funeral customs.

Sympathy Flowers

While Christian funerals generally include many flowers to send for sympathy, this is generally not done at Jewish funerals, it is appropriate to send a donation to a designated charity or plant a tree in Israel in memory of the deceased.

However, if you know that the family appreciates sympathy flowers, sending a simple and modest arrangement is acceptable.

Immediate Burial

In the Jewish tradition, the deceased should ideally be buried as soon as possible, usually within 24 hours of death. This is done to honor the body and show respect for the soul.

No Embalming Or Cremation

Jewish law prohibits embalming and cremation, as they are seen as disrespectful to the body. The body is considered sacred and should be returned to the earth in a natural state.

Tahara

The deceased’s body is prepared for burial through a ritual cleansing called tahara. This process is performed by a group of trained individuals called the chevra kadisha. The body is washed, purified and dressed in simple white shrouds called tachrichim.

Simple Wooden Casket

A traditional Jewish burial involves a plain wooden casket with no metal parts. The simplicity of the casket reflects the belief in the equality of all people in death.

Shemira

Shemira is the practice of watching over the deceased from the time of death until burial. A family member or designated individual, known as a shomer, stays with the body to recite prayers and psalms.

Funeral Service

The Jewish funeral service called a levaya, is usually brief and simple. It includes prayers, the recitation of psalms, and eulogies. The service takes place at a synagogue, funeral home or graveside.

Procession To The Cemetery

After the funeral service, there is a procession to the cemetery. Mourners follow the hearse on foot for a short distance to show their respect and honor the deceased.

Kriah

During the funeral, mourners perform the kriah, a ritual tearing of one’s clothing. This symbolizes the tearing of the heart and the depth of griefhttps://southfloridareporter.com/jewish-funeral-customs-20-things-you-should-know/ experienced by the mourners.

Burial

At the cemetery, the casket is lowered into the ground, and mourners participate in the mitzvah of burial by shoveling earth onto the casket. This act is a final gesture of love and respect for the deceased.

Shiva

Shiva is the initial seven-day mourning period observed by the immediate family. Mourners stay at home, refrain from work and social activities, and receive visitors who come to offer comfort and support.

Offering Condolences

When offering condolences to a Jewish mourner, it is customary to say “HaMakom yenachem etchem b’toch she’ar avelei Tzion v’Yerushalayim” which means “May God comfort you among the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.”

Meal Of Consolation

Following the burial, the family returns home to share a meal of consolation, called the seudat havra’ah. This meal typically includes round foods, such as eggs or lentils, which symbolize the cycle of life and the hope for continuity.

Uncovering The Mirrors

Covering mirrors during the shiva period is a Jewish tradition to symbolize the mourning process. At the end of shiva, it is customary to uncover the mirrors to signify the return to normal life.

This act is a reminder that while the deceased may be gone, life must continue. It also serves as a reminder that life is cyclical, and after periods of sadness, there will be times of joy and happiness.

Sheloshim

Sheloshim is a thirty-day mourning period observed by close family members after the death of a loved one. During this time, mourners refrain from attending social events and other festivities.

This period allows the mourners to focus on the grieving process and honor the memory of the deceased. Sheloshim provides an opportunity for mourners to reflect on the life of the deceased and to begin to find a way forward without them.

Yahrzeit

Yahrzeit is the anniversary of the death of a loved one, observed by lighting a yahrzeit candle and reciting the Kaddish prayer. The candle is lit for twenty-four hours and symbolizes the light that the deceased brought into the world during their lifetime.

Yahrzeit is an important time for family and friends to come together to remember and honor the life of the deceased. It is an opportunity to reflect on the memories shared and the impact they had on others.

Kaddish

The kaddish is a prayer recited by mourners during the funeral service and for the first year after the death. It is also recited on the yahrzeit and other occasions to honor the deceased. Kaddish is a powerful prayer that speaks to the hope and faith of the Jewish people. It is a reminder that life is cyclical and that after periods of sorrow, there will be times of joy and happiness. Kaddish provides comfort and solace to the mourners and helps them find peace during a difficult time.

Unveiling Ceremony

The unveiling ceremony, which takes place approximately one year after the death, involves the unveiling of the headstone at the cemetery. Family and friends gather to remember and honor the deceased.

Honoring The Deceased

Jewish funeral customs place a strong emphasis on honoring the deceased and showing respect for their life. This includes speaking about the deceased in positive terms and refraining from discussing any negative aspects of their life.

Comforting The Mourners

Above all, Jewish funeral customs are designed to provide comfort and support to the mourners. Whether it’s through the practice of shemira, the sharing of memories, or the offering of condolences, the focus is on helping the bereaved find peace and solace during a difficult time.

Jewish funeral customs have been shaped by centuries of tradition and reflect the importance of honoring the deceased and comforting the bereaved. Understanding these customs is essential when attending a Jewish funeral or offering support to a Jewish friend in mourning.

While sympathy flowers are not generally sent to Jewish funerals, other meaningful gestures, such as a donation to charity or a tree planting, can show your love and support. By familiarizing yourself with these customs and offering compassion and kindness, you can help ease the pain of those who have lost a loved one.

Complete Article HERE!

Rabbi Laura Geller helps people ‘get good at getting older’

By Shannon Levitt

A few years ago, when Rabbi Laura Geller was still the senior rabbi of Temple Emanuel in Beverly Hills, California, she began to notice that many of her older congregants had started to drift away and she wanted to know why. At the time, she was also contemplating what her life after retirement might look like. So, she and her husband, Richard Siegel, decided to take the questions they were already posing to themselves and ask them of other seniors.

So began a listening journey that would result in “Getting Good at Getting Older,” a National Jewish Book Award finalist published in 2019.

Gathering small groups in private homes, Geller and Siegel spoke to about 250 congregants about what keeps them up at night, what gets them up in the morning and, without a job and colleagues, who they turn to for community.

“What we discovered is that people have fears of becoming invisible and becoming isolated. Your friendship network changes as you grow older and people that used to return your calls don’t anymore. People were concerned about purpose — “What will I do all day?” — and about becoming, “God forbid,” dependent,” Geller told Jewish News.

On May 3, Geller will present some of her findings about the importance of continually building relationships, making a difference, getting involved and giving back at an invitation-only Lion of Judah “Cocktails and Conversations” event.

“After hearing Rabbi Geller’s presentation at the International Lion’s Conference in Scottsdale this past December, we thought she would be the perfect speaker for our upcoming event,” said Gail Baer, vice president of philanthropy for the Center for Jewish Philanthropy of Greater Phoenix.

Geller’s book investigates the period between midlife, when people build careers and raise families, and “frail old age” — what gerontologist Barbara Waxman termed “middlescence.” Just as adolescence came to be understood as a distinct stage of life, neither childhood nor adulthood, the longevity patterns of this century have constructed something new at the other end of the age spectrum.

At last December’s conference, Geller attended two “overflowing” seminars on the topic led by Waxman.

“A lot of people want to talk about this and learn how to engage the experience, the talent, the passion, the resources of this age cohort,” Geller said. The day after her own book on the topic was published, it was number one on Amazon’s Jewish life section.

The book was also a kind of bookend to the seminal “Jewish Catalog,” the series of guides to “do-it-yourself” Judaism that Siegel had co-edited decades earlier. It was a best-seller for the Jewish Publication Society and attracted young Jews by popularizing an ethos of pluralism and gender egalitarianism.

Because Siegel and Geller were now themselves part of a cohort of older Jewish Americans facing new issues, “Rich really felt that we needed another Jewish catalog about how to navigate the challenge of growing older,” Geller said.

Sadly, while working on the book, Siegel was diagnosed with cancer and passed away before its publication. He was in the strange position of working on a book about getting older, a privilege he wouldn’t experience for himself. Ironically, the couple researched things for the book, like end-of-life issues and how to plan a funeral, that they used to deal with their personal situation.

“When Richie really did get sick, he had a really good death because there was nothing we hadn’t already talked about. A good death is if you’re lucky enough to be able to die at home, surrounded by people you love and there is nothing left unsaid. I’m very grateful for that,” Geller said.

During their listening campaign, Geller was surprised by how many people hadn’t had some of those tough conversations with their adult children. The book provides a how-to toolkit for people for that and many other topics, including making friends, giving back, getting involved, leaving a legacy and telling one’s story before it’s too late.

After the book’s publication, Geller was invited to speak at synagogues and Jewish community centers across the country. Once COVID-19 restrictions made travel impossible, she started doing virtual presentations.

“It was a wonderful opportunity to visit lots and lots of places because the cost was so much lower, and I spoke to at least 100 places virtually,” she said. Sometimes it was to a group of 20 people and sometimes more than 100. Despite the size, it was clearer with every conversation how much people wanted to talk about their fears and hopes.

During the Q&A period, someone might ask for advice on how best to downsize their households or give things away. Another person might chime in to say what they had done. Though these people might be in the same congregation, they didn’t know each other well enough to ask these questions before Geller’s appearance prompted them.

“Through these conversations, they were able to help each other because, even though we are the curators of our own lives, the truth is we are all figuring out what it means to be in this new life stage and we can really help each other do that,” Geller said.

While promoting the book, Geller kept learning, and if she were writing it again, she would likely spend more time writing about loneliness and isolation, she said.

A majority of people she’s spoken with want to stay in their homes, but that might entail several changes in terms of creating or modifying their community. A focus on building intergenerational connections can assist with that goal.

She also has a message for the Jewish establishment that focuses most of its resources on families with young children, which she calls “a myopic view.”

“I’m also part of the Jewish future with my experience, my wisdom, my resources, my talent, my desire to serve and my need to be in connection with different generations. That’s an asset in the Jewish community and to the extent to which that’s not acknowledged — they’re losing an incredibly important talent pool and that challenges the Jewish future,” she said.

Complete Article HERE!

Preparing Jewish bodies for burial, an artist finds inspiration

‘I could have painted landscapes,’ says Karen Benioff Friedman. Instead, she’s portraying the rituals around death.

Angels of Mercy Embrace the Dead, 2023, oil on canvasboard.© 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

By Stewart Ain

When a Berkeley rabbi in 2004 announced that he wanted to form a chevra kadisha, Hebrew for a group that cares for the dead before burial, an artist in his congregation signed herself up.

Karen Benioff Friedman had a mostly secular upbringing, and hadn’t known much about Jewish burial societies, but she knew she wanted to be a part of one.

“What I found compelling is the idea that we never leave the dead alone,” she said.

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Thresholds: Jewish Rituals of Death and Mourning – Placing the Metah into the Casket, 2019, oil on canvas. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

Ten years later, while Friedman was studying human anatomy and classical realism at an Oakland art school, she learned of 18th century paintings of Prague’s chevra kadisha. They depicted tahara, the rituals of the burial society.

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Thresholds – Jewish Rituals of Death and Mourning – Tying the Avnet, 2023, oil on canvas. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

As part of these rituals, bodies are placed in a white shroud before they are lowered into a casket. Coincidentally, Friedman had been painting images of shrouded figures. Seeing the Prague paintings made her think that tahara could be her subject too.

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Tahara, 2021, graphite on paper. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

“I could have painted landscapes or pets, but this is what really moved me,” said Friedman.

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Taharah: Pouring the Second Bucket, 2017, oil on canvas. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

Since then, Friedman, now 59, has drawn, painted and etched more than 150 images of tahara, each a window into a ritual so private that many Jews have little idea what it looks like. Those who perform tahara wash the body, and sit by it through the night, reciting prayers and psalms.

In her paintings, gauzy figures, some enveloped in light, attend lovingly to the dead, cradling their heads and pouring water over their bodies. The mood is somber, despite the daubs of bright blue she often uses for the aprons of the women of the chevra kadisha.

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Thresholds, Attending Grandmother’s Passing, 2020, charcoal on paper. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

Tahara calls for men to care for men and women for women, so Friedman’s subjects are mostly female, because, she said, that is what she knows from her own participation.

Respecting tahara, which means “purification,” Friedman would never try to draw or take photographs of the deceased. But she didn’t work solely from memory either. She hired models to impersonate both the living and the dead. One model did a “pretend tahara while another pretended to be a body that was dressed in a shroud,” she said. She worked from the photographs she took of them.

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Angels of Mercy Embrace The Dead, 2019, charcoal on paper. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

 

Friedman paints in oils and makes monotypes, a form of printmaking. All her drawings are in charcoal.

Many of her works depict angels. “One of the main pieces of liturgy we talk about is the one about the angels of mercy who embrace the metah — the female body,” Friedman said. “Angels come up a lot, including standing outside the gates of heaven. I love the concept of the angels.”

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Angel of Death Holding an Infant, 2022, monotype on silk. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

Ultimately, she said, she wants her works to teach about the mostly hidden work of the chevra kadisha, and its commitment to respect the dead, no matter who has died.

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Shmira (Guarding the Dead), 2019, oil on canvas. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

“We are all equal in death,” she said. “We all wear the same thing and are buried the same.”

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A Soul, 2023, monotype. © 2023 Karen Benioff Friedman.

An exhibit of Friedman’s work will open on Feb. 5 at  San Francisco’s Sinai Memorial Chapel and run through March 19.

Complete Article HERE!

Pulling the plug

— What does Jewish law say about ‘passive euthanasia?’

In such circumstances, the ventilator becomes a ‘bridge to nowhere’

Jewish bioethicists significantly disagree regarding “passive euthanasia,” which can constitute either the withholding or withdrawing of treatment from the terminally ill.

By SHLOMO M. BRODY

Tragically, many terminally ill patients can be kept alive yet suffer greatly from their sickness or alternatively remain in a comatose or vegetative state for a long time. One of the critical pieces of technology that allows them to remain alive is a mechanical ventilator (or “breathing machine”) that provides artificial respiration. This invasive treatment keeps a patient oxygenated and the lung structures intact.

In ideal situations, the ventilator is meant to serve as a “bridge” to help patients get through a difficult period until they can be removed from this artificial support. However, the ventilator can frequently maintain respiration for a long time even when there is no hope for recovery. In such circumstances, the ventilator becomes a “bridge to nowhere,” raising the question of whether the artificial respiration can be stopped to allow nature to take its course.

In general, Jewish law supports employing palliative measures to reduce suffering, such as those utilized at hospices. This even includes gradually increasing morphine injections as long as one intends to reduce pain and not to hasten a patient’s death. At the same time, Jewish law prohibits suicide or so-called “mercy killings.” For this reason, Israel and many other countries do not permit active euthanasia or even the slightly more moderate model of physician-assisted suicide whereby healthcare professionals provide the necessary tools for the patient to take his own life.

Jewish law on withdrawing or witholding treatment from the terminally ill

However, Jewish bioethicists significantly disagree regarding “passive euthanasia,” which can constitute either the withholding or withdrawing of treatment from the terminally ill. In the 16th century, Rabbi Moshe Isserles codified three major principles regarding the treatment of patients approaching death (goses): (1) One should not cause them to die more slowly; (2) One may not do any action that hastens the death; (3) One may remove something that is merely hindering the soul’s departure. Unfortunately, these principles remain subject to different interpretations. The examples given in the code, including placing salt on the tongue and synagogue keys under the pillow, remain difficult to correspond with modern technologies, to say the least.

 The success of medicine has cast a shadow. (credit: UNSPLASH)
The success of medicine has cast a shadow.

Regarding the withholding of medical treatments, Rabbi Eliezer Waldenburg and others contended that the value of every moment of life remains infinite and absolute. One must therefore administer, even under the most miserable of circumstances, all life-extending interventions, including a ventilator, even if this would be against the patient’s will. The mainstream approach today follows the opinions of rabbis Shlomo Z. Auerbach and Moshe Feinstein, who asserted that one may withhold life-prolonging treatment from terminally ill patients experiencing intense anguish.

Following this line of thought, one may fill out a halachic living will to enable, in cases of terminal illness and suffering, the withholding of life-prolonging treatments, such as resuscitation (DNR) or incubation (DNI). Following the same rationale, one may also choose to withhold the next round of intermittent or cyclical treatments, such as dialysis or chemotherapy, which is deemed as an act of omission. Some decisors assert that basic substances for bodily maintenance, such as oxygen, nutrition, and hydration, can never be withheld. Others, like rabbis Zalman Nechemia Goldberg, Mordechai Willig and Hershel Schachter, deem these items as medical treatments that the patient or their proxies may choose to withhold. The primary goal of care at this stage should be maintaining the comfort of the patient.

When doctors administer a continuous life-prolonging mechanism, like a ventilator, it becomes more difficult to withdraw this treatment. Former Tel Aviv Sephardi chief rabbi Chaim David Halevi classified an artificial respirator as a mere impediment to death that doctors should disable to prevent the inappropriate prolonging of the death process. The more mainstream approach, advocated by rabbis Auerbach and Feinstein, contends that one cannot remove an artificial respirator, as this will directly hasten the patient’s death, even if intubation is no longer deemed medically advisable. One would not, however, need to reconnect the machine if its functioning had to be interrupted anyway to service it or suction the patient.

To prevent prolonging the deaths of intubated patients, two possible solutions may become advisable. Firstly, many decisors will allow extubating if the patient will not die immediately. Some believe that the person would still need to be able to survive for two days. Many others, however, speak of “a number of hours,” or even less, for the patient to remain stable.

Another possible solution was endorsed by rabbis Auerbach, Willig and Shmuel Wosner, who allow the oxygen rate of the ventilator to be carefully lowered to the level found in the normal air which we breathe, provided that the patient can still breathe on his own. Unfortunately, these two solutions aren’t always logistically possible, and as with many issues in Jewish law, not all decisors agree with them.

In 2006, a 59-member committee representing the full spectrum of Israeli ideological worldviews, led by the esteemed Prof. Avraham Steinberg, attempted to form a halachically defensible national policy regarding ventilators and end-of-life care. The Steinberg committee proposed a compromise position that mandated operating all respirators on a timer, thereby allowing it to shut off automatically, should the hospital committee deem this act of omission appropriate given the patient’s condition.

Unfortunately, the Israeli health system has not been able to implement this proposal. In its absence, many families are left without an appropriate solution, while some healthcare providers may take actions that are more questionable under Halacha (or Israeli law). One hopes that the new government will address this issue and provide a suitable solution for this difficult situation.

Complete Article HERE!

Jewish law forbids human composting, but for some Jews it’s the way to go

Jewish law forbids human composting, but for some Jews it’s the way to go

Before she died in May 2022, Anne Lang told her daughter Zoe Lang, right, that she wanted her remains composted.

By Stewart Ain

New York could soon become the sixth state to legalize the composting of dead people, a practice prohibited by Jewish law, but one which a small but growing number of American Jews have come to embrace.

Axios has called it “the hot new thing in death care.” For proponents, human composting aligns with an ecological mindset that sees human beings as part of nature, obligated to care for the Earth even after they die.

A shrouded mannequin lies near a composting vessel at Recompose, a Seatte funeral home specializing in human composting in October 2022.

Gov. Kathy Hochul has until Dec. 31 to sign a legalization bill into law. She has not yet tipped her hand on the measure, which passed both houses of the legislature easily. Several Jewish lawmakers voted for it.

Traditional Jewish burial, which calls for plain wood coffins, is considered relatively green. But human composting is touted as one of the greenest options available — there are no coffins to bury or bodies to burn.

Orthodox Jewish rabbis, however, hold that halacha, or Jewish law, clearly forbids human composting, for many of the same reasons it forbids cremation, which has overtaken traditional burial in the U.S. as the most popular option for American families after the death of a relative.

Still, Jews are beginning to consider and choose human composting, and say it can be done in keeping with their Jewish values. Recompose in Seattle is among several companies in states where the process is legal that have composted the bodies of Jewish clients. Some rabbis, from more liberal Jewish traditions, are willing to support the choice.

Rabbi Seth Goldstein of Temple Beth Hatfiloh in Olympia, Washington — the first state, in 2020, to approve human composting — has not yet presided at the funeral of someone who chose to be composted. But some of his congregants have asked about it.

“It is not something I was on the front lines for,” or for cremation either, said Goldstein, who was ordained in the Reconstructionist tradition.

But Goldstein is willing to work with those who favor composting, and said he would figure out ways to incorporate Jewish ritual into the funeral rather than to turn a family away.

“Human composting seems more in line with Jewish practice than cremation in terms of the practices and values that surround it,” he added. “It is something that has a lot of environmental value.”

From dust to dust

Anne Lang

Human composting — also called terramation and natural organic reduction — generally involves placing the deceased in a vessel, which can be cylindrical or boxlike, atop a bed of organic material — wood chips, alfalfa and sawdust are commonly used. The body is often wrapped in a cotton shroud, and air and moisture are pumped in.

Microbes found naturally in the body and the organic material take about two months to decompose it. What remains is about one cubic yard of soil and bones, which are then ground into a powder. Any medical devices or hardware is removed from the soil by hand.

Survivors can scatter the soil in a cemetery, their backyards or in a natural spot special to the deceased.

That’s what Anne Lang wanted.

“When it is my time, I would like to be composted,” she told her daughter Zoe. The Jewish woman from Boulder, who died of lymphoma in May, loved the outdoors and lived in Colorado, which legalized human composting last year.

At her mother’s deathbed, said Zoe Lang, the family said the Mourner’s Kaddish though they are not particularly observant. “It felt like something my mom would do and I wanted to honor her,” she said.

The funeral took place outside, with a view of the Flatiron rock formations. The Natural Funeral, a company not far from Boulder, took care of the composting. Two and a half months later, Anne Lang’s body was soil.

“The company asked if we wanted to pick it up and we chose to have it return to the Earth because that is what my mom would have wanted. So it was brought to a farm that grows flowers and trees,” Zoe Lang said.

The service cost the family between $7,000 and $8,000, and would have cost about $12,000 had they bought a coffin and a burial plot, Zoe Lang said.

It doesn’t bother her that she has no particular place to visit to mourn her mother.

“She is still with us,” Zoe Lang said. “I think she would be thrilled to know she is coming back as a flower or a tree with a beautiful view.”

More human composting businesses are opening as more states allow it. In addition to Washington and Colorado, it’s been legalized in Oregon, Vermont and California.

Washington has at least three such businesses — Recompose, Return Home and Earth, which promises a “carbon neutral alternative to cremation” and allows families to take a portion of the soil created from a body. It sends the rest to a land restoration project on the Olympic Peninsula.

Objections

Traditional Jewish burial forbids many common funeral practices that are also rejected by proponents of human composting.

A small box of soil made from human remains sits on a table at the Recompose funeral home in Seattle.

Jewish law, for example, prohibits embalming, a process that many who favor composting consider unnatural and polluting. And it shuns crypts, cement liners and other containers for the body, said Rabbi Avi Shafran, director of public affairs at Agudath Israel of America, the nation’s leading ultra-Orthodox umbrella group.

Cremation, which some environmentalists object to for the pollutants it produces, is also forbidden under Jewish law, which requires specific steps after a person dies that include the washing and quick burial of the body. In Orthodox tradition, cremation is a defilement.

But composting is similarly problematic, according to Shafran. “The idea of ‘utilizing’ a body as a growth medium is anathema to the honor due to a vessel that once held a human spirit,” he said.

Or as Rabbi Joseph Potasnik, executive vice president of the New York Board of Rabbis, put it: “Reverence for the dead through proper burial traditions has taken place throughout the generations.” He added: “The idea of grinding the bones is at odds with Jewish law.”

The Conservative movement, which lies between more traditional Orthodox Judaism and the more liberal Reform movement, has not taken a position on human composting, said Rabbi Jeremy Kalmanofsky, who leads Ansche Chesed, a Conservative synagogue in Manhattan. But he has studied the issue on its behalf and concluded that making a profit from human composting does not align with Jewish tradition.

“There is a difference between returning [a body] to the Earth — which is the point — and using the soil for a business,” he said.

A tallit atop a vessel that contains the remains of a Jewish person at Return Home, a Washington state funeral home that specializes in human composting.

In general, he continued, dead bodies shouldn’t be used for tangible benefit, even if it’s not strictly commercial. That’s why, he said, “it’s dishonorable to eat fruits or pick flowers growing directly above graves, nourished partly by decomposing human flesh.”

The Union for Reform Judaism, the largest Jewish denomination in the U.S., had no comment on human composting.

Goldstein, the Washington state rabbi who has fielded inquiries about human composting, is a past president of the Reconstructionist Rabbinical Association, which he said not taken a position on it.

But even though he’s not an advocate, Goldstein said for some Jews, human composting dovetails nicely with their Jewish environmental values, which call them to be good stewards of the Earth. He advises other rabbis to be prepared for the conversation.

“I have to serve my people,” Goldstein said. “This is not an issue we can shy away from. It is reality and we have to deal with it.”