The Burial Shrouds

 

A Jew is always buried in a simple linen shroud or sometimes a prayer shawl for a man.  Burying the departed in a garment is considered a testimony of faith in the resurrection of the body – which is a fundamental principle of faith, one of the thirteen principles which the Maimonides (Rambam) enumerates as being essential to Jewish belief.

 

RESURRECTION

 

We can easily see why the belief in the immortality of the soul is a basic moral necessity for mankind.  When we remember that the soul outlives the body, then we will devote our lives to the cultivation of the spirit, not to the enjoyments of the body.  But why is the belief in resurrection so fundamental that we are enjoined to believe that this is an inseparable part of the written Torah? What is the spiritual and moral significance of this tenet of our faith?

 

The Midrash explains that God in creating the world desired a "nether dwelling," a material expression of His holiness.  Indeed, His presence originally permeated the entire creation, until the sin of mankind created an artificial partition between this world and God's presence (as we explained in chapter 80.)

 

The soul's sojourn in the body is the analog of God's presence dwelling in the world.  The human soul also originally pervaded the body in an infinite manner.  The first sin created an artificial partition between soul and body, which is why this sin introduced the reality of death in the world.

 

But the Torah directs us to restore God's presence to this world.  As we explained in chapter 80, the erection of the Tabernacle was a giant step towards this goal, as it served as an abode for the Shekhina – God's presence.  Since the destruction of the Temple, it is the "four cubits of halakha" which serve as this abode (Berakhot 8a.)  But through the Temple service, and through the sanctification of all aspects of life by the performance of the commandments; the ultimate goal is that the entire creation should again radiate holiness.

 

Again, the analog on the human level is that the human body should be inseparably fused with the soul.  Viewed this way, death is not a perfect elevation for the soul.  Given the fact that the body is not perfected, the soul is further elevated in the world of spirit than in this world – just as God's presence had to distance itself from the world as it became tainted by sin.  But the ultimate goal is that the soul should be reunited with the body, and this is what will occur at the time of the resurrection.

 

It is forbidden to perform everyday mitzvot in a demonstrative manner next to a grave; this is considered "mocking the poor," that is, the dead who are no longer able to fulfill the commandments (Berakhot 18a, SA YD 367:4-5.)  The soul is impoverished, not enriched, by leaving the material world where holiness can be instilled into seemingly inanimate matter by performance of the mitzvot (Ein Ayah.)

 

A parallel theme of the resurrection is that it is the occasion of the ultimate judgment.  The Talmud likens the body and the soul to two watchmen, one blind and one lame who join forces to steal some figs, the lame man riding on the blind man's shoulders and guiding him.  When the owner catches them, the blind man claims that he could not have stolen the figs, because he can't see; while the lame man claims he is obviously innocent because he could not climb to pick them.  The wise owner puts the lame man back on his friend's shoulders and judges them together (Sanhedrin 91a.)

 

The judgment, while awesome and frightening, is ultimately a necessity for the rectification – just as in this world we can not perfect ourselves in any area or endeavor without standards and analysis.  This explains why the body and soul need to be judged together.

 

If the presence of the soul in the body were an artificial situation, then we would consider the judgment of the soul to be the ultimate and perfect rectification of the human being.  Yet in fact the opposite is true; it is the separation of body and soul which is an artificial situation, and so the ultimate rectification is when they are judged as one.

 

TZITZIT IN THE GRAVE

 

The mitzva of tzitzit (fringes on the edges of four-cornered garments) seems to be a recurrent topic in the laws of mourning.  The most prominent example of mitzvot we don't perform near the graves because of "mocking the poor" - the deceased who can not fulfill mitzvot - is that of tzitzit (YD SA 367:4.)  A common custom is to bury a man in his prayer shawl; at the same time, some have a custom to tie the fringes showing that prior to the resurrection there is no fulfillment of the commandments.

 

We explained in chapter 9 that tzitzit, more than other mitzvot, exemplifies that the holiness of the soul extends into the material world.  The soul acquires presence in this world through its dwelling in the body; clothes, which augment our scope of action by protecting us and augment our image by allowing us to modify our appearance, extend this holiness even further.  The fringes, at the very edge of our garments, symbolize the farthest reach of the sanctity of the soul as actuated through the mitzvot.

 

So this mitzva, more than others, forms a stark contrast to the impoverished state of the deceased, who is now deprived of even the body itself.

 

AVOIDING RESENTMENT

 

Even though having beautiful shrouds is a testimony of our belief in the resurrection, it is forbidden to have burial clothes which are ostentatious, in order to avoid competition for expensive burials which would surely either shame or impoverish families of limited means (SA YD 352:1.)

 

Our law contains many such directives to avoid competition and resentment; and over the generations many communities have instituted additional "sumptuary laws" to prevent generous spending on mitzva occasions - which is praiseworthy - from developing into conspicuous consumption - which is ruinous and divisive.

 

PROHIBITION TO USE BURIAL CLOTHES

 

Any corpse, including the clothes it is buried in, is forbidden to for all use.  The seemingly cryptic source of this prohibition actually carries a fascinating insight.

 

The Talmud finds a textual parallel between burial and the Torah passage (Devarim 21:1-9) which describes when a person is found murdered on the road.  The leaders of the nearest city have to atone for the death through an elaborate ceremony involving breaking the neck of a heifer in a forsaken place (Avoda Zara 29b.)  The Talmud explains that anything defined as an "atonement" is forbidden to use for any purpose, similar to a sacrifice.

 

Atonement is a loss we undertake in order to demonstrate our feeling of responsibility for failing to use our abilities in a righteous way.  The sinner brings an offering as an atonement to show his remorse; the elders of the city destroy the heifer to show their remorse that they were unable to prevent wickedness right outside their borders; and on fast days we refrain from food and other delights in order to show our remorse for our transgressions.

 

Death is the greatest atonement of all; indeed, it atones for all sins between man and his Creator (SA YD 338.)  The existence of death is a consequence of the fact that we are unable to perfectly sanctify our material existence; in the future, when we will succeed to sanctify the entire world through the Torah, death will disappear and the dead will rise.  The prohibition gaining any benefit from the corpse and the shrouds emphasizes that death is an absolute loss; the departed has sacrificed his body to the Creator in order to atone for the tragic failure to sanctify it entirely.

 

PURIFICATION OF THE DECEASED

 

The dead body is purified through pouring water over it in a special way - which has an effect similar to immersion in a mikve, (ritual bath), (Kitzur Shulchan Arukh 197:2.)  We explained in chapter 161 that immersion in a mikve is a sign not only of purification but also of renewal.  The mikve is like both a grave in which the old self dies; as well as the womb from which the new self is born.  By purifying the deceased, we show that death is only one stage in the journey of the spirit; the spirit is not dead but rather is advancing one stage farther on its voyage towards perfection.