Rosh Hashanah Day 1: Afterlife in Jewish tradition

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

Rosh Hashanah Day 1

October 3, 2016

If I were to drop dead right now, at this very moment, what happens to me?  Does my soul separate from my body?  Do I hang around as a ghost to tell the next rabbi what to do?  What happens next?  Once it was confirmed that I was unsalvageable, after any useable organs were donated--then we can discuss the rest!  Let me be clear--organ donation is not only acceptable in Jewish law, but strongly encouraged!  What greater mitzvah is there besides saving a life?

In conversations with many of you, we have discussed the briefest of outlines of the Jewish views on the afterlife.  I am careful to say Jewish views, because the Jewish view has evolved, has changed from the Bible to the Talmud to medieval rabbis to the present.  Yet even among individuals, our answers may change over time. At some point in all of our lives, we ask these questions.  For many Jews, we are told by our rabbis and our parents, don’t think about that!  Focus on this life!  How can we possibly answer definitively? Has anyone really ever died and come back to life!?  

While I’ve read dozens of stories about angels and stories of past lives in the Jewish tradition, the skeptical side of my brain makes me think of the Jewish Museum and Ehrich Weisz. A few years back, the Jewish Museum in NY had an exhibit on him, the son of a rabbi, born in Hungary and raised in Wisconsin.  While you might not have heard of Ehrich, Houdini is a household name.  That nice Jewish magician fought against the fraudulent spiritualists of his day, who would swindle people out of their money through “communicating” with the dead.  For years, Houdini offered $10,000, which was even more money in his day than ours, to anyone who would prove something outside the laws of nature--and he never spent that money!

Yet many of us have had moments and all of us know someone who has had moments where they felt or heard or saw something that could not be explained, something that felt like a message, a reminder, a little bit of love from beyond.  Maybe you were in the hospital and saw a vision of a loved one.  What does our tradition have to say about these messages? What does our Torah say about life after death?  We might even have heard one of the many Hasidic stories, of rebbes past, sharing stories of messages from beyond!

Within the Bible, generally speaking, death usually seems to be the end.  Other than Enoch and Elijah, we hear of the death of almost every named biblical figure.  We hear of burials and mourning, but we do not hear of what happens next.  Saul communicates with Samuel (illegally) and Samuel seems pretty annoyed to be called back to Earth from Sheol--the underworld--which seems neither positive nor negative.  Over and over again the Psalms beg God to keep us living, since we cannot praise God in death!  Angels and seraphim and other heavenly bodies and heavenly courts are mentioned--but they seem to be something different--not us in the afterlife.  Ezekiel’s image of the dry bones being resurrected seems to demonstrate God’s power, but does not claim this fate for us all.  To the Torah, to the Bible, death is real, tragic and seemingly final.  We are one in body and soul, and without the body, the Bible does not speak of what happens to the soul.

At the same time, there are hints from which later commentaries expand their worldviews.  It is only the book of Daniel which is slightly more explicit in speaking of life after death.  Daniel, while not the last book in the printed Tanach/Hebrew Bible, is the latest book chronologically.  There we find words of resurrection, of return, of new possibilities.

יג  וְאַתָּה, לֵךְ לַקֵּץ; וְתָנוּחַ וְתַעֲמֹד לְגֹרָלְךָ, לְקֵץ הַיָּמִין.  {ש}

13 But go thou thy way till the end be; and thou shalt rest, and shalt stand up to thy lot, at the end of the days.' {P}

Daniel is promised resurrection!

Many years later, in the the Mishnah, Pirkei Avot 4:16/17 we read:

רַבִּי יַעֲקֹב אוֹמֵר, הָעוֹלָם הַזֶּה דּוֹמֶה לִפְרוֹזְדוֹר בִּפְנֵי הָעוֹלָם הַבָּא. הַתְקֵן עַצְמְךָ בַפְּרוֹזְדוֹר, כְּדֵי שֶׁתִּכָּנֵס לַטְּרַקְלִין:	Rabbi Yaakov says: This world is like a hallway before the world to come. Fix yourself in the hallway so you may enter the drawing room.
הוּא הָיָה אוֹמֵר, יָפָה שָׁעָה אַחַת בִּתְשׁוּבָה וּמַעֲשִׂים טוֹבִים בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה, מִכָּל חַיֵּי הָעוֹלָם הַבָּא. וְיָפָה שָׁעָה אַחַת שֶׁל קוֹרַת רוּחַ בָּעוֹלָם הַבָּא, מִכָּל חַיֵּי הָעוֹלָם הַזֶּה:	He would say: One hour of repentance and good deeds in this world is better than all the time in the world to come. And one hour of pleasure in the world to come is better than all the time in this world.

So by the time of the Mishnah and the Talmud, death no longer seems like the end.  The Mishnah there introduces the idea that there is a world to come and it is a wonderful place, but it doesn’t really describe it!  Even as it speaks highly of the next world, it also encourages us to celebrate THIS life--especially the aspects of self-reflection and improving this life, telling us that repentance NOW is far more effective than repentance later!

The rabbis have many stories in the Talmud about the next world and who gets a ticket.  In some ways they are far more generous to gentiles than to Jews--we are encouraged to follow the 613 mitzvot, while they have only 7!  They avoid discussing much about what happens there, but rather what is required to enter!  In Ta’anit 22A (p.127 in Koren), we read two stories of people who Elijah says to Rabbi Beroka will enter the world to come--a Jew and prison guard who disguises himself as a non-Jew to hear any governmental decrees against Jews--and then tells the rabbis about them so that they may pray and find a solution to repeal them.  The second two are jesters/comedians, who cheer up the depressed or make peace between two individuals.

Talmud Brachot 17a offers prayers that this life become like the world to come, informing us in the next life we will sit and study Torah with the Holy One, Godself!  Talmud Shabbat and Brachot 57b says that the peace of Shabbat is 1/60th of the peace and joy of the world to come--but then so too are seeing the sun and using the restroom when you need to!  In some ways, the central Jewish statement on the world to come is from Berachot 34b: “Rabbi Hiyya bar Abba said in the name of Rabbi Yochanan: All of the prophets only prophesied with regards to the days of the Messiah.  However, with regard to the World-to-Come, ‘No eye has seen it, God, aside from You.’”

The rabbis thus see redemption as a two stage process--first there will be a Messianic age, with improved peace and tranquility THEN there will be a final judgement with the world to come.

Talmud Shabbat 31a describes a heavenly tribunal, offering that before entrance to the World to Come, we are asked six questions:

Did you do business with honesty and integrity?

Did you fix set times for studying Torah?

Did you participate in the commandment to be fruitful and multiply? Did you anxiously anticipate the redemption?

Did you engage in the pursuit of wisdom?

Did you have fear of Heaven?

Each and every one of these questions represents a probing not just of our accomplishments, but of our overall character.

Again, we see instruction on how to prepare ourselves--how do we live our lives NOW, but not on what life will be like in the next world!  Over and over, the Talmudic rabbis reference the next life, speaking of the world to come, without giving us intimate details!  Perhaps they fear that if we truly understood, it would be too much for us!  

There are also multiple parables of the interrelation between body and soul, leading towards a judgement that is dependent on both body and soul.  The rabbis imagined that since our mitzvahs were built on our relationship between body and soul, so too were our sins.  How could God judge our soul for the sins of our body or our body for the mitzvot performed with our soul--only together could judgement come!

The medieval  and later Hasidic rabbis had fewer qualms about describing the world to come.  Philosophical treatises, disputations with Christians,  and rabbinic writings reference the world to come in more detail.  The details of final judgements of the relationship between body and soul and resurrection are discussed.  For more details, join me on Tuesday November 15 to learn more about all of these sources!

Maimonides wrote extensively about the afterlife, seeing it as a paradise for scholars, and the intellectual class.  Since the world to come was a way for the intellect to commune and study with the Holy One, the more one studied in this life the better off they would be in the next.  Of course, for Maimonides, deep Torah knowledge included all the knowledge and wisdom of the universe, so he demanded study of biology, medicine, physics, art, and literature--as well as Torah!  Yet his vision of a non-body  focused afterlife enraged his contemporaries.  He was forced to write a paper imagining the afterlife as death, resurrection, death again and finally the unification of only the soul/intellect with God!

Generations later the chasidic master, Rabbi Haim of Romshisok offers a beautiful parable, which is shared in many different cultures and traditions.  Asked about the difference between heaven and hell, he speaks of a long banquet table, filled with amazing food.  Yet in hell, the people are starving.  You see they have no elbows and no way to properly get their food to their mouths.  (Why don’t they just lean over and eat like animals?? It’s a story!)  He then tells his students of heaven, same table, same food, same lack of elbows, yet there the people are full. They use those same utensils to feed each other.  He continues, as it is there, so it is here.  That those who help others in this life will be helped in the next life!

Also in the last few hundred years are numerous texts on the process of atonement in the afterlife, how death and the suffering that might surround death help to atone for the sins of this life.  Medieval books with titles like “Tractate of the Pangs of the Grave” became popular, detailing what punishments happen before souls reach the highest heavens.  Since hell was never a major part of Jewish theology, Gehonnim evolves as a type of purgatory, where we can atone for our sins, be absolved, and enter Olam Haba (the world to come) or Gan Eden (the Garden of Eden).

This emulates the text from Pirkei Avot--that we must repent in this life to be prepared for the next!  Honestly, if we didn’t have death, we would have to invent it!  Death is central to life.  Knowing we will die is essential to living a meaningful life.  While for some it is terrifying, it can really be exhilarating.  How often have we heard “Carpe Diem” or “Seize the day, there is no guarantee of tomorrow” or “live today like it’s your last.”  Again, if we spend all our energy in that space, we will not make our long term goals, but it sure helps with the short term ones.

So now that I have shared the history of Jewish thought, I would like to share some of my own thoughts.  After much consideration, prayer, and time with Rabbi Neil Gillman’s the Death of Death and Simcha Raphael’s Jewish Views of the Afterlife, the following is what seems most true to me.  It is a multi-step process and view of the afterlife.

1. We die.
2. Our soul separates from our body (during shiva).
3. We spend time in Gehenna purifying our soul from sin.
4. We find ourselves in Gan Eden/Olam Haba. (As our loved ones say Kaddish for a year).
5. By our yarhzeit, we are close to God. (Is this the end or do we start the process again--I cannot tell you!)

I do not stand here to tell you that my way is the only way, yet I firmly believe in Olam Ha-Ba, the World to Come.  I believe that I will find the ones I love again.  I believe I will be held accountable for the poor choices I made and find blessing for the better ones.  I believe with perfect faith that if my body is truly part of my soul, then God will restore it to its best health, and be glad that I donated any useable organs.

Yet central to what I believe is that LIVING a Jewish life, living a fulfilled life is the central mission of Judaism.  We are here to be a part of God, Torah and Israel.  Showing up today, whether this is it for the year or we see you every week is part of your destiny.  It is part of what makes you you.  I hope you will join me for many more conversations of what a fulfilled and meaningful Jewish life looks like.  That way, when we see each other in the next life, in Olam Ha-Ba, I pray that we will remember these moments fondly, that serving God, living in Jewish community, offering our prayers inspired us to live meaningful Jewish lives.

Are we talking about life or death?

The parshah entitled Hayay Sarah opens with the death of the title character.  It ends with the death of Avraham and the line of Ishmael.  In between we have the shidduch and marriage of Yitzhak and Rivkah.  One could go the easy route and say the parsha is named because the first significant words are “Hayay Sarah,” but I think there is more to the name.

As a people of books, of manuscripts, of letters, we are a people of words.  We have rules of how to speak to each other, of how to write to each other, and even what words we can use of each other.  The Hafetz Hayim’s fame began when he wrote a book on how best to speak to one another, how to prevent libel and even gossip.  In Pirkei Avot, we are taught that when we cite someone’s words b’shem omro, in the name of the person that spoke them, we bring about the redemption of the world.  Before the creation of copyright law, Hebrew books often had extensive curses on the one who might reprint material without the permission of the author or original publisher.  Words are important to Jews.

When we speak about death in Jewish communities, we often avoid the subject directly.  We might hear someone is “niftar” or has departed to their eternal home.  We speak of olam haba, the world to come, or Gan Eden, the Garden of Eden.  Cemeteries rarely have the word cemetery in them.  In some communities, they are called “Gates of Life” or some such euphemism (just as in the Talmud when it says an evil person is blessed, it really means cursed!)

In our parshah, twenty verses discuss the negotiation of a burial place for Sarah, but sixty-seven discuss the betrothal and wedding of Rivkah and Yitzhak.  I was reminded recently of the debate in the Talmud about when a funeral procession and a wedding procession meet at an intersection, who gets priority?  The answer is the wedding procession, just as it seems in this parshah--in Judaism, we spend our lives thinking about life, not death.

In my mind, the parshah was named deliberately, Hayay Sarah is about Sarah’s legacy.  It is about how the good she did during her life translated into the good of her children.  Her husband took care of her remains, lovingly, and then ensured that she lived on, by arranging Yitzhak’s marriage and ensuring grandchildren.

After Avraham ensured his son’s legacy, he looked towards his own happiness.  He married again and had more children, yet was careful to make sure that Yitzhak gained his actual inheritance, his spiritual legacy.  Rashi notes that his second wife was actually his first mistress, Hagar.  Perhaps she was renamed to demonstrate her new potential and new covenant with God, just like Avraham and Sarah.

It is telling that the penultimate section of the parshah is the temporary reunification of Yitzhak and Yishmael.  Having the two sons bury their father, together, demonstrates how death can interact with life, creating the family reunions that we neglect to plan.

Concluding with Yishmael’s descendants teaches that God’s promises are fulfilled.  Just as Yitzhak’s descendants complete God’s promises to Avraham, Yishmael’s descendants complete God’s promises to Hagar.

All in all, just as the parshah is entitled, we speak of life, not death.  This is truly for the best.

Over the last three weeks, I have discussed the practices and observance of Shabbat in a series of classes.  In the weeks, to come I will be meeting on Tuesday nights (with the exception of the Interfaith Thanksgiving, to look at some texts from the Talmud, to discover what Talmud is and to look at the intimate discussions and relationships which continue to shape our lives today.  Simply put, as Jews, even more than the Bible, the Talmud is the source that deals with our daily lives, and yet for many of us, it is a text with which we are almost wholly unfamiliar.  We are not biblical Jews, not Karaites, but rabbinic Jews.  Discussing EVERY subject under the sun from the ratio of pi, to whether it is ok to shave your body hair, to what sacrifices would we offer if the Temple were in existence, to love, marriage, divorce, what we eat, how to sleep, what to do with our lives and so on and so on and so on.  The debates reveal differing schools of thought on biblical interpretation and human interactions.  To give one powerful example we discussed over the last three weeks, the Torah says in the Ten Commandments Observe and Keep the Shabbat.  It tells us not to work on Shabbat or Festivals, yet never clearly defines what work is.  The Talmud then has two books entirely devoted to how one can keep Shabbat.  

In my rabbinate, what I strive to teach is that every moment is an opportunity for life and for Jewish choices.  Some people don’t quite follow the complicated debates of the Talmud. Why do they get so nitty gritty?  Why are they focused on every little detail?  Don’t they have anything better to do?  In my daily study I sometimes get bogged down with texts that seem less relevant to my life--yet I try to push on.  Why?  Because what the rabbis were doing was struggling with all of the big questions.  Life isn’t lived just in the theoretical.  It’s lived in all of the individual daily moments--the crazy moments, the good moments, the bad moments.  The moments when we hear bad news and the ones where we celebrate.  Life is the nitty gritty.  I invite you to join with me in the next few weeks--argue with me and we will learn together!