Adina Ben-Chorin
Death and
Mourning
[German]
The modern (at
least Western) tendency is to push old age, illness and death aside. Even those
closest to a terminally ill person are often forbidden to relate publicly or
privately to that illness; we use sweet euphemisms for death, e.g. passing away;
we hide ourselves or our loved ones away at a time of illness and in old age.
All of the above is contrary to the traditional Jewish approach.
How do we
relate to aging and to the aged? Pirkey Avot [Sayings of the Fathers] tells us
that 40 is the age of wisdom and 50 is the age of counsel. In other words,
having reached the height of spiritual achievement (wisdom), it is our
responsibility to share it with others. This also means that the others have to
be willing to listen to us. This is, of course, an idealized model but it
highlights the honored place that the elderly should have in the society. This
may always have been difficult; today, given the emphasis on youth, creativity,
newness and innovation, such an attitude towards elderly and old people is
almost unthinkable. Is there any way in that to make it workable? For the
talmudic sages, 60+ was considered old, 80 was unique and beyond that was
nothing very admirable. Today, the scale would have to be shifted upwards but
the principle of the older generation having something valuable to pass on is an
issue that requires serious attention. Furthermore, as humans increasingly live
longer (at least in Western society), the practice of kibud av va'em
[responsibility for one's parents and proper behaviour towards them, often hard
to define] and al tashlicheni l'et zikna [caring for the needs of the old]
become more and more problematic.
Respect for
life, inherent in Jewish principle and practice, translates itself into respect
for the sick, the dying and the dead. Jewish Law [halakha] and Jewish practice [minhag]
give us very clear guidelines in this matter. For example, we are enjoined to
the mizvah of bikur cholim [attending to the needs of the sick and the dying and
not leaving them alone] and of concern for the body of a dead person, as
expressed in the practice of the ritual preparation of the body for burial. (In
this context, cremation clearly presents a problem as it is seen as a
desecration of the body.) But what about organ transplantation, a dying person's
"quality of life" and the thorny issue of "death with honor" and its extension,
euthanasia, all of which are hotly debated in the Western world. Jewish law and
practice have had to address these issues and with the exception of the last
mentioned, the resulting decisions have been positive, albeit within defined
parameters.
Death is a part
of life. The rabbinic saying is Repent one day before you die, i.e. we must be
aware all the time of the fragility of life and the possibility of death and
behave accordingly. The widespread Jewish tradition of 'ethical' wills,
practiced over the centuries in many communities, indicates the importance that
Judaism attaches to passing on our moral/ethical/religious values, but even more
importantly, it indicates the willingness to contemplate death and deal with it
well before it becomes a painful reality. The approaching death of a loved one
should be a precious time, a time for speaking without pretence, an opportunity
for healing wounds and family quarrels. What happens after death is a matter of
belief and beliefs differ in this respect. What can be said with certainty is
that human beings transcend death: biologically, by having children;
spiritually, through the memories that remain with the living; through the
influence a person continues to exert upon the living.
Rituals
associated with death include the nearest of kin closing the eyes of the dead;
tahara and immediate burial; and the obligations of the recognized mourner (i.e.
one who is bereaved of mother or father, sister or brother, spouse or child),
including onanut [special status of a mourner before the burial], shiva [the
seven days of "severe" mourning] and the additional days (30 days for
husband/wife, son/daughter, brother/sister; one year for a parent). While death
is a personal issue, in Judaism it is undeniably an event to be shared with the
community. The latter provides physical and spiritual sustenance during the
shiva, making sure that the mourner is not alone, is provided with food and that
there is a minyan [prayer group] so that the mourner can recite the kaddish
[mourner's prayer] as required.
On the Shabbat
of the shiva, the mourner changes clothes, leaves the house and goes to the
synagogue, in honor of the Shabbat but also as symbolic of the mourner's
commitment to the community and eventual return to it and to the world of the
living. Today, most Jews do not live within such traditionally oriented
communities. Moreover, they tend to accept at least some of the mores of the
cultures within that they have chosen to make their homes, most of which
conflict with the traditional Jewish model. In the Western world, for example,
burial is delayed, mourning is private ("no visits, please") and there is no
formal recognition of the need for a special mourning period for individuals so
that the mourner may not be able to take time off from work in order to "sit
shiva". Many of us are not part of any Jewish community, while those around us
(family or friends, if we are lucky) know next to nothing about Jewish practice,
or worse still, cling irrationally to tidbits of information and memories that
are no longer in context and therefore have little supportive or healing power.
There is great
wisdom embedded in the Jewish tradition with respect to illness, aging, death
and dying. That wisdom must be studied, distilled, reinterpreted and repackaged
in order to meet the needs of today's Jews.
Adina Ben-Chorin,
American-born, living in Zurich/ Switzerland, teaches and lectures on Judaism
and Jewish texts. Bible study is a major theme as well as women's role in
Judaism.
|