Roughly two thousand years ago, Roman historian Tacitus wrote that 'the Jews bury rather than burn their dead.' (1)

He was right. Throughout history, Jews have insisted on burying the dead rather than choosing cremation. Aside from tradition, there is a direct commandment to bury the dead:

Deuteronomy 21:23 discusses the case of a criminal who is put to death. Even in that extreme case, the command is given, 'You shall surely bury him,' teaching a general principle for all cases. The reason is given as well, 'for it is the shame of G-d that is hanging'. Leaving the criminal on the gallows shames G-d in whose image he is created. Providing burial is respecting the image of G-d - represented by man - who is the purpose of all creation The obligation to bury is so strong that even the high priest — who zealously avoided all contact with all forms of death — must personally give the dead a proper burial if no one else can do so.

The Talmud, Maimonides, and the Code of Jewish Law all codify the commandment to bury the dead. (2)

Lack of burial, (whether through cremation or any other method of disposal), is considered a disgrace to the deceased, humanity, and God. Jewish tradition (3) is clear that cremation is a severe prohibition, and is, in fact, the antithesis of the aforementioned commandment and a direct transgression of Judaism.

Jewish tradition rejects cremation so unambiguously that, as a deterrent measure, cremated remains were historically not allowed in Jewish cemeteries. (4) In a similar vein, traditionally, one of the first things a new Jewish community does is set up a cemetery and burial society — making sure that proper Jewish burial is available to all.

Interestingly, the Torah discusses complex concepts in only a few words, being very succinct, yet emphasizes burial repeatedly. Far from being silent on burial, our tradition seems to overemphasize it: evidently, this idea is important.

Cremation rates among Jews today might be much lower if people were aware of how important burial is to Judaism. Cremation has existed as an option for thousands of years — and yet both Jews and Judaism rejected it, generation after generation.

Society's views on burial and cremation have changed several times and no doubt will change again. Fads come and fads go. The Jewish view hasn't changed: In an ancient world in which criminals were mutilated and left to the dogs, Judaism said that every human being is created in the image of God — and must be respectfully buried.

In this final choice, by opting for burial, we align ourselves with our tradition and stand firm with the many millions of Jews throughout history who insisted on proper Jewish burial for themselves and their loved ones.

People wonder when I die will my soul go to an afterlife? Will I be greeted by my departed loved ones? The answer is Yes - if buried.

The soul lives for eternity and never dies. The body is buried and returns Dust to Dust as Gd commands. Gd buried Moses and the Jewish people emulate Gd by burying our departed loved ones too.

There are many places in the Bible that show that when you die and are buried, you are “gathered to your people”.

People often wonder will I be with my spouse and loved ones when I die. The answer is YES but only if buried not cremated.

In parsha (Torah portion) Chaya Sarah in chapter 25 verse 8,9 it says, “and Abraham expired and died at a good old age, mature and content and he was gathered to his people. His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron the son of Zohar ….. there Abraham was buried and Sarah his wife.”

In parsha Vayishlach chapter 35, verse 29, it says “and Isaac expired and died, and he was gathered to his people, old and fulfilled of days; his sons Esau and Jacob buried him.”

Are we, as individuals, important?

Do our individual lives matter?

The 1970s rock band Kansas answered decisively when they sang:

All we do
Crumbles to the ground...
Nothin' last forever
but the earth and sky
It slips away...
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind...
Dust in the wind...
Dust in the wind...

Judaism teaches that each and every human being is created in the image of God, possessing intrinsic holiness. Our individual lives matter, as do our actions. We are not simply "dust in the wind." Our lives are not meaningless. Far from it, our souls are immortal and our good choices and positive actions affect eternity — and are never forgotten, even if our graves are seldom or never visited.

Modern society tends to blind us to our individual importance. The media focuses on celebrities. Normal people are usually ignored, and their importance is subtly downplayed.

We need to be reminded that our lives are important. That we will be remembered. That the world will take note, in some way, that we lived. That we died. That our lives had meaning. Throughout history, graves and tombstones provide a unique and powerful lesson that our lives mattered. In describing his desire for a burial and a tombstone, one commentator put it simply:

“All I really wanted was a witness. To say I was. To say, daft as it still sounds, maybe I am.” (5)

A burial plot provides this witness. The person, housing a spirit, a Neshamah, a soul lived, loved, tried his best — and returned to his Maker.

Many people who choose cremation also request that their ashes be scattered. Scattering ashes is appealing since it is cheaper (you don't have to pay for a burial plot or a cremation niche) and the ashes can be scattered in a beautiful forest, or in the sea. But what does scattering do to memory? After the poetic thrill captured by the beauty of the place at scattering, one should ask: Where do these ashes really end up?

There is a certain irony in the scattering of ashes, given that at one time (in the mid-1800s) only the ashes of cremated criminals were scattered in order to show the severity of their criminal punishment.

Scattering ashes … began with "impious miscreants … In order to destroy the memory of the past …" (6)

After ashes are scattered, there is no grave to visit. No names and dates. There is no special place declaring, "This individual lived." It is as if the physical world is stating, "This person didn't really exist."

Individuals are important. When people's remains are burned, ground up, and then scattered, the subtle societal message is "Your body left no mark on the world. You left no mark on the world. You were only dust in the wind."

When individuals are given a proper burial in a small but respectful marked burial plot, where only one individual is buried, we and the world declare: "This person lived. He mattered. He left his mark on the world. He existed. And in some way, he still does."

On July 16, 2008, in the presence of Red Cross and UN observers, the State of Israel transferred to the Hezbollah terrorist organization four jailed Hezbollah fighters, about two hundred other Lebanese and Palestinian militants captured in various wars and anti-terrorist operations, and PLFP member Samir Kuntar, who was convicted of brutally murdering a father and his four year-old daughter.

Israel let these 205 terrorists go free. What did Israel receive in return?

Israel received, in total, the remains of two Israeli soldiers, Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev, captured in 2006.

The State of Israel has made many lopsided exchanges with its enemies. For example, in November 1983, Israel traded 4,600 Arab prisoners for six Israeli soldiers.

What is most startling in the 2008 exchange was that Israel gave up live enemies in order to retrieve the dead bodies of its soldiers. This was not the first time it happened: In 1990, Israel released fifty-one prisoners in return for proof of a missing Israeli soldier's death. In 2004, Israel gave up 436 Arab prisoners and the bodies of 59 Lebanese militants in exchange for one (live) Israeli civilian and the bodies of three Israeli soldiers. (7)

Whether or not to conduct such exchanges is a complicated question, and not one we can adequately deal with here. What is of interest to us is that, virtually alone in the world, and with the backing of a strong majority of its population, Israel actually does it. Providing a proper Jewish burial for its soldiers is ingrained in Israel's conscience. Let us try to understand why.

Many Americans first heard of the holiness of Torah scrolls when ZAKA Rescue and Recovery, helped by units of the US National Guard, rode in inflatable rafts to reach New Orleans's Beth Israel Synagogue to salvage its Torah scrolls from Hurricane Katrina in 2005. (8) Today, rabbis and congregations around the world try to locate and save Torah scrolls that were damaged in the Iraq War, buried or desecrated in the Holocaust, or stolen by the Communists. Jews are willing to pay exorbitant prices, and sometimes take great risks, for the sake of a Torah scroll. When found, these ancient Torah scrolls are inevitably damaged. Sometimes they can be repaired by a scribe.

When repair is impossible, the Torah scrolls are buried: a dignified "end" to the "life" of the Torah scroll. Our tradition explains that once parchment is used for a holy purpose — to hold the letters of the Torah — the scroll retains that holiness forever. Even if severely damaged and no longer kosher, the scroll is still holy and must be buried honorably. Torah scrolls are very important. And they retain their holiness even once desecrated or damaged beyond repair.

People are more important than Torah scrolls — in the face of danger, saving a person takes clear precedence over saving a scroll. Human beings contain a spark of holiness — and human bodies retain their honor, dignity, and holiness even when the soul has left.

Jewish sources explicitly make the connection between a human body and a Torah scroll. Anyone dealing with a dead body must know that he is dealing with a sacred object: The body of a person is not simply a container for holiness, that served the holy soul, rather it itself became sacred … similar to a Torah scroll. (9)

During the life of a person, while his/her soul ... is in it, [the body] is called a living Torah scroll (it is important a person not forget this, and be careful with his/her Torah scroll and those of his/her friends), and so, one who witnesses the moment of death of a person it is as if he is watching a Torah scroll burn... (10)

A living person contains holiness. Like a Torah scroll. And a dead body retains its holiness, like an old and damaged Torah scroll. Because of its great holiness, a dead body is to be treated with great reverence. Jewish funeral practices are based on the overriding principle of the sanctity of the human body. The body is never left alone (11) because doing so would be like abandoning it — "like an object that one no longer wants, sitting in disgrace." (12)

The body is reverentially cleansed by trained and caring members of the honored Jewish burial society, the chevra kadisha (literally, the "holy society"). The entire burial process is done with the utmost respect and decorum.

Surprisingly, Judaism teaches that our bodies don't actually belong to us. They belong to God and are on loan to us (the real "us" being our souls) so that we can function in the world.

We are our bodies' custodians, not their owners, and should not destroy something that is not ours.

Eastern religions and ancient pagan Greeks viewed fire as a type of purifier.

Monotheistic teachings see things quite differently. In monotheistic thought, it is water that purifies (think of a mikveh — a ritual bath).

Fire punishes. Instead of cleansing an object — literally or figuratively — fire destroys it, leaving nothing left. In fact, putting something to the flames is considered such a terrible punishment that the Bible reserves it for the worst type of crimes.

For example (13), when the ancient Hebrews built the golden calf, they incurred God's wrath. Moses did the harshest thing he could to eliminate the idol: he burned it. (14) When Sodom and Gomorrah would not change their evil ways, God rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire … out of heaven. (15) In dealing with idol worship, the Bible screams: You shall burn the graven images of their gods... (16).

The Bible – and the entire Jewish tradition - is consistent in its understanding of burning. It is not something you do to the bodies of those you love.

Burial, on the other hand represents a positive symbol of accepting God's decree, and a calm return to the earth from whence we came, and a hint of rebirth in the ‘World to Come' – much as we wake up after laying down to sleep.

Do we burn things we love? Think back to your first pet: We burned the trash and buried the treasure. That is why, faced with life’s first lessons in mortality — the dead kitten or bunny rabbit, or dead bird fallen from its nest on high — good parents search out shoe boxes and shovels instead of kindling wood or barbecues ... (17)

The message of cremation is to side with man as conqueror, using fire and technology to interfere with and control nature — rather than peacefully accept it.

The message of burial is one of respect for the cycle of nature. When burying the remains of our loved ones, we calmly return what we have received. Burial reflects the rhythm of the universe.

The Midrash teaches that when Cain killed Abel, the first man to die, he did not know what to with his remains. G-d sent a raven to dig a hole and bury the remains of a bird he had killed. Abel then understood the appropriateness of burial.

The Soul Is Present

When a person dies, the soul (in Hebrew, neshamah) hovers around the body. The soul is the essence of the person, its consciousness and the totality of its thoughts, deeds, experiences, and relationships. The body was its container and its partner in this world. The soul, on its way to the Eternal World, refuses to leave until the body is buried, and continues to exist for awhile in the vicinity of the body.

Jewish funeral and mourning practices are therefore extremely concerned with the feelings of the deceased, not only the feelings of the mourners. How we treat the body and how we behave around it must reflect how we would act around the very soul itself at this sensitive time. Now more than ever, the body deserves respect — for the soul of the departed is very aware of what happens to its body.

Since leaving the body unattended would imply a certain amount of disregard, we arrange for a shomer (guard) to be present. These watch guards stay with the body day and night, reciting passages from the Book of Psalms, lending great comfort to the soul while it waits for its body's burial and its own ascent to the Eternal World.

Shrouds

The soul is about to face its judgment. Possessions and clothes don't matter — good deeds do. That's why every Jew is buried exactly alike, in a handmade, simple, clean white linen shroud that includes a white linen hat, shirt, pants, shoes, coat, and belt. The shrouds have no pockets to accentuate the fact that no worldly belongings accompany us. They are modeled after the white uniform worn by the high priest in the Holy Temple on Yom Kippur when he stood before God asking for the needs of his family and the entire Jewish People. These shrouds are therefore especially appropriate because soon after death, each and every soul asks for the needs of his or her family.

The Casket

"For dust you are and to dust you shall return." (19) This Biblical teaching guides us in selecting a casket. The casket must not be made of a material that slows down the body's natural return to nature. Wood is the only material allowed, and several holes are opened at the bottom to hasten the body's return to the earth. When vaults are required, they too should be open at the bottom. Viewing the body is seen as disrespectful to the memory of the deceased.

In-Ground Burial

The soul's return to heaven is dependent upon the body's return to the ground (as Ecclesiastes 12:7 says, "The dust returns to the earth ... and the spirit returns to God who gave it"). Jewish law is therefore concerned with the immediacy of burial and the natural decomposition of the body. Mausoleums are forbidden since they retard the process of return to the earth. Cremation is certainly forbidden. Burial is directly into the ground, with family members and friends helping to fill the grave completely until a mound is formed. We make no attempt to retard the body's decomposition.

1 Tacitus, Histories 5:5.

2 Sanhedrin 46b, Sefer Ha-Mitzvot 231, 536; Laws of Mourning, ch. 12, Yoreh Dei'ah 362.

3 Tractate Sanhedrin 46b and other sources mentioned here.

4 Melamed L'ho'il 2:114. Also, many of the laws of mourning are not to be observed for someone who deliberately chose cremation.

5 Lynch, The Undertaking, 199.

6 Schmidt, Dust to Dust, 27.

7 Dan Balilty, "Israel's Agonizing Debate over Prisoner Swaps," CBC News, July 16, 2008

8 Congregation Beth Israel, "Beth Israel and Hurricane Katrina,"

9 Rabbi Yechiel Michel Tucazinsky, Gesher HaChaim, 1:64.

10 Talmud, Tractate Moed Katan 25a, and Tucazinsky, Gesher HaChaim, 1:65.

11 Even when there is no real danger of something happening to it.

12 Ibid., 65–66.

13 Other examples abound. For instance, Leviticus 20:14 and 21:9, Joshua 7:15–25, 2 Kings 10:26, Jeremiah 29:22, and Judges 15:6. Not having a proper burial was considered a great dishonor; see 1 Kings 21:23–24 and Psalms 83:9–10.

14 Exodus 32:20.

15 Genesis 19:24.

16 Deuteronomy 7:25.

17 Lynch, The Undertaking, 96.

18 Adapted with permission from Dignity for the Body, Peace for the Soul: An Introduction to Jewish Burial Customs, available in full.

19 Genesis 3:19.