Cremation - Is It Jewish?

Cremation – Is It Jewish?
It’s hard for me to even type the title of this column.

Last week marked the yartzeit of Moshe Rabbenu, Moses our teacher. Because the Torah tells us that God himself attended to Moshe’s burial, Moshe’s yartzeit, the seventh of Adar, has become a day to honor members of the chevra kadisha – the holy society who prepare our bodies and care for our families after a loved one dies. It was striking, then when someone asked me on that same week, - If a Jew orders that his body be cremated, should the chevra kadisha prepare the body beforehand?

What is the status of cremation in Judaism? Virtually all sources, ancient and modern, indicate that in-ground burial is a positive commandment, a Mitzvat Asay, and that cremation is prohibited by Jewish law. Of course, just because something is a mitzvah, doesn’t necessarily mean that everyone observes it. Are there, then, consequences within the community for flouting this particular community norm?

In centuries past, most cases of willful transgression of the prohibition of cremation were associated with apostasy– that is, Jews who converted to Christianity and chose cremation. The community’s reaction was predictable – No burial of ashes, no service, no chevra kadisha, no kaddish , no shiva for the surviving family.

The reasons were understandable- this apostate Jew was thumbing his nose at the established Jewish community and its norms. Cremation was seen as a mutilation of the body (forbidden) and as a heretical denial of the belief of bodily resurrection (an important belief in Judaism, emphasized in the second bracha of the Amida, and Maimonides’ thirteen principles of faith). In our own day, cremation continued to be seen as a flouting of a strong community norm at a time of community battle with assimilation and loosening of community cohesion, and most damning, a horrifying re-enacting of what the Nazis did to Jews during the Shoah years – How could we inflict this on our own people, our loved ones?

There were, of course, exceptions – It’s a mitzvah to bring even ashes to Jewish burial, certainly if the cremation was not done willingly. There was a time in Jewish history when lime was added to the grave to hasten disintegration of the body , so that the bones could be reburied elsewhere- perhaps, some claimed, cremation was just a further hastening of that process. Perhaps the cemeteries were
running out of room (bury one atop another, responded the rabbis). Perhaps a person was fearful of being buried underground for some reason. (Our sages have often been kindly tolerant of people’s frailties, and occasionally ruled leniently, especially when it involved burial after the fact).

The attitude of virtually all rabbis and scholars of Jewish law today is: If Dad asks to be cremated, do not follow his wishes. Bury, don’t cremate. Cremation is forbidden. Burial in a Jewish cemetery is not just Jewish law, but an important source of psychological and emotional comfort for the survivors– the thud of earth on the coffin, a place to visit, a stone to put up for generations to see.

Of course, many Jews today have non- Jews in their families, and there may be no objection to their cremation, and for the Jewish survivor to observe mourning rituals of kaddish and shiva afterwards. So , what’s my take? I’m, after all, the rabbi of Beth David Synagogue, both a guardian/teacher of Jewish law and tradition, and also a provider/teacher of the comfort and structure that Jewish tradition offers to those who are mourning a loss. How do I balance those two in this case?

I try to convince families not to cremate. I tell them that it is forbidden, that it’s not the Jewish way, that they’ll be missing out on a comforting ritual, and that the consequences of their actions are irreversible. And at the same time, I choose not to “punish” families for their non-observance of Jewish law. That approbation may have worked once, in another age, or in other communities, but not here, and not today. There are instances when I feel that I must choose to remove myself , to dissociate myself, in order not to appear to condone a certain act. And at the same time, I want to be available to families to help them use the tools and wisdom of Jewish tradition and practice, to help them through the times when they are most vulnerable.

So, I think that the chevra kadisha should prepare the body, not for burial, but for life eternal – it’s our way of showing respect for the deceased, and for the body which we believe is a gift from God. And I will officiate at a service which honors the deceased, when the body is present , even if I know that afterwards, the family will do what it chooses to do. And I believe that the mourners, and the community , are entitled to the full measure of grieving traditions – to kriya and to shiva, and to kaddish, to the comfort that being embraced by a community brings, to being inside, and not cast out, and yes, even to bury the ashes, in a quiet way, without ceremony, in our consecrated Jewish ground at the cemetery.

Often, life, and our choices in life , are not simple, black or white, either /or. Often, we need to maneuver and find what we believe is the right thing to do. We pray that our God-given sechel / wisdom will guide us to act in a way which will bring honor to our tradition and to our people, and will move towards a kind and better world for all.

Eliezer Havivi