Thursday, May 7, 2026

Ronald L. Eisenberg on Modern Jewish Traditions Concerning the Dead

  

Autopsy

 

Whether autopsies are permitted is an extremely controversial issue among traditional Jews. It brings into direct opposition two fundamental principles—kavod ha-met (reverence for the human body after death) and pikuach nefesh (the preservation of life). Many rabbis have argued that the biblical requirement for burial as soon as possible (Deut. 21:22–23), combined with the prohibition against desecrating the corpse (nivvul ha-met), forbids mutilation of the body for post-mortem examination. However, others have countered that reverence for the corpse must yield to the superior value of life and its preservation. Indeed, the duty of saving and maintaining life, which includes even cases of a doubtful nature, overrides all but three commandments of the Torah (against idolatry, adultery, and murder).

 

It was not until the 18th century, when human bodies began to be commonly used systematically for medical research, that the permissibility of autopsies for medical research and saving lives became a practical halakhic question. The first clearly recorded ruling permitting an autopsy in the interest of the living was issued in a responsum by Ezekiel Landau of Prague. However, it was strictly limited to a situation in which, at the time of death, there was in the same hospital another patient suffering from the same symptoms, so that the autopsy could be of immediate value in saving a life. The problem became an important issue in Israel with the establishment of the Medical School of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Rav Kook, the usually liberal Ashkenazic chief rabbi of Palestine, entirely forbade the autopsy of Jewish bodies for medical purposes. However, a 1949 agreement between Hadassah Hospital and Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog, which was incorporated into Israeli law four years later, permitted autopsies in the following situations: (1) when the civil law demanded it in cases of crime or accidental death, (2) to establish the cause of death when it was doubtful, (3) to save lives (i.e., when an autopsy may yield medical information that would directly benefit another person), and (4) in cases of hereditary disease, when an autopsy may directly benefit the survivors. Before an autopsy could be performed, it was necessary to obtain the signatures of three doctors. The medical dissection must be performed with the utmost respect for the deceased. Any organs dissected were to be handed over to the hevra kadisha for burial after the necessary examinations had been performed.

 

As autopsies became more routine and after allegations of widespread abuse of the legal safeguards, certain Orthodox circles in Israel agitated to have the law amended by reverting to the strictly limited permission given by Rabbi Landau. Consequently, in 1980 (despite strenuous opposition by Israeli medical researchers), the law was changed to make it more difficult to justify the need for performing an autopsy. Autopsies are now permissible only if there is a specific legal or medical reason to warrant one in a given case.

 

Although from the halakhic point of view the objections that apply to autopsies also apply to dissection for the purpose of anatomic study, enough people bequeath their bodies for this purpose that it has not sparked substantial religious opposition. The only restrictions are that the remains be buried in a timely fashion according to Jewish law and custom and that the decision be in accord with the wishes not only of the deceased but also of his or her family. Today, medical schools in the United States have a sufficient supply of bodies of unknown, abandoned individuals from county morgues. Therefore, Jews should not volunteer to have their bodies dissected, for there is no medical need to override the respect for a corpse required by the concept of kavod ha-met.

 

There is general agreement among halakhic experts that autopsies are permitted in the case of violent or accidental death or when a crime is suspected.

 

Organ Donation

 

As with autopsies, the issue of organ donation revolves around the often-conflicting principles of kavod ha-met and pikuach nefesh. In this instance, however, these two basic tenets work in tandem, for it is assumed that deceased persons would be honored if their organs were used to preserve the life of another. Giving a person the opportunity to live by donating an organ is also the ultimate act of hesed, lovingkindness to one’s fellow human being.

 

Despite this predominant opinion that delaying burial to permit organ transplantation does not diminish respect for the dead but, on the contrary, enhances it, some rabbis have limited this practice to varying degrees. The most restrictive opinion permits donations only when there is a specific patient who stands to lose his or her life or an entire physical faculty. According to this view, if a person can see out of one eye, a cornea may not be removed from a cadaver to restore vision in the other eye. A corneal transplant would be permitted only if both eyes were failing and the prospective recipient would be in danger of losing all vision, thus incurring serious potential danger to life and limb. Moreover, since the patient for whom the organ is intended must be known and present, donation to an organ bank would not be permitted.

 

Nevertheless, since there now is a shortage of donated organs and it is certain that all will be used for transplantation, most Orthodox rabbis have relaxed the restrictions on organ donations. However, there are still major problems associated with giving permission for transplantation. One is precisely defining the moment of death. According to classical Jewish sources, there were two criteria to determine when death occurred. The majority rule was the breath test, in which a feather was placed beneath the nostrils of the patient; movement of the feather indicated life, whereas lack of movement signified death (Yoma 85a; PdRE 52). This test was based on two biblical verses: “God breathed life into Adam” (Gen. 2:7), and the Flood killed “all in whose nostrils was the merest breath of life” (Gen. 7:22). A minority view in the Talmud maintained that the cessation of heartbeat was also required to determine death (Yoma 85a). Later codifiers insisted on both respiratory and cardiac manifestations of death.

 

Moses Isserles, acknowledging the difficulty of accurately distinguishing death from a fainting spell, argued that even after the cessation of breath and heartbeat one should wait a period of time before assuming that the patient is dead. In a 1988 ruling approving heart transplantation, the chief rabbinate of Israel effectively accepted the modern definition of death as a completely flat electroencephalogram (both cortical and brainstem function), which indicates the cessation of spontaneous brain activity.

 

Some Orthodox Jews resist organ donation because of the concept that death does not come at a clear, definable moment but rather occurs in stages over time. According to rabbinic lore, the complete severing of the relation between body and soul does not take place until three days after death (Gen. R. 100:7; Lev. R. 18:1; MK 3:5). During that time, the soul hovers over the grave in the hope that it may be restored to the body, departing only when decomposition begins. This was an explanation for the belief that the grief of mourners naturally becomes most intense on the third day after the death of a loved one. Moreover, this concept led the Rabbis to permit relatives to watch graves for three days in case the interred body was still alive, “for once it happened that they watched one who thereupon continued to live for 25 years and another who still had five children before dying” (Sem. 8:1). Some even believed that the soul continues to have some relationship with the body for 12 months, until the body has disintegrated (Shab. 152b–153a). Medieval folklore often spoke of the “spirit community,” in which life continued after physical death. Thus the combination of all these factors makes it understandable why some families are hesitant to donate the organs of their relatives.

 

The Talmud (Av. Zar. 29b) and Maimonides clearly indicate that it is forbidden to use a cadaver for some other purpose or extraneous benefit. Modern rabbis have employed ingenious reasoning to argue that organ donation and transplantation do not violate this rule against deriving benefit from the body (hana’ah min ha-met). Some of the arguments are as follows:

 

            1.         The prohibition against deriving benefit from a cadaver is of rabbinic origin and thus may be overridden for medical purposes.

 

            2.         Even if the prohibition is of biblical origin, what was forbidden was only conventional uses of the cadaver, not such “nonconventional” ones as medical treatment.

 

            3.         The prohibition was designed to ensure a timely burial that would prevent dishonoring the cadaver so that, once the bulk of the remains have been properly buried, individual organs can be used for transplantation without violating the original prohibition.

 

            4.         Once an organ has been transplanted, it is no longer considered as dead tissue, since it literally has been revitalized in the body of the recipient.

 

Another objection to organ transplantation is the belief among some that one must be buried complete to be resurrected whole. According to this view, donating an organ would leave the deceased without that part when the dead are brought back to life. Medieval philosophers ridiculed this concept. For example, Saadiah Gaon pointed out that if one believes that God created the world from nothing, one should surely believe that God can revive the dead even if a few parts are missing. Except for the most extreme branches of ultra-Orthodoxy, virtually all rabbis agree that saving life in the here and now clearly and unequivocally takes precedence over whatever one believes about future resurrection. (Ronald L. Eisenberg, The JPS Guide to Jewish Traditions [Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2004], 110-14)

 

Question for Followers of my Blog from the USA: Pre-1830 KJV Bibles with the Apocrypha

 I am hoping to update the research a friend did back in the 1990s.


If you are near a library or some other collection that has American Bible printings of the Authorized King James Version pre-1830, (1) how many are there in the collection, and (2) of that number, how many contain the Apocrypha?

My friend, Matt Roper, did something similar back in the mid-90s. He

examined 143 American Bible printings of the Authorized King James Version published between 1800 and 1830, he found that only 40 (less than a third) contained the Apocrypha. (John A. Tvedtnes and Matthew P. Roper, "'Joseph Smith's Use of the Apocrypha': Shadow or Reality?," FARMS Review of Books 8, no. 2 [1996]: 331)

I am hoping to update this in 2026.

If you can help, you can email me the figures (with the name/location of the repository) at ScripturalMormonism@gmail.com

Thanks!


Robert Alter and Donald Parry on Isaiah 21:8

  

And the seer shall call out. The received text reads: “And he shall call out: A lion!” This is problematic if the danger is cavalry. The Qumran Isaiah has instead of “lion,” ʾaryeh, “the seer,” haroʾ eh, which is merely a reversal of consonants, and that looks more likely. (Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible, 3 vols. [New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2019], 2:686)

 

 

רְַיהֵ MT | 1 הרא ה QIsaa Syr | Ουριαν LXX | αριηλ θ′

 

א רְַי ה —The beginning of this verse in MT reads either “and he called, a lion” or “and a lion called.” The first of these two expressions makes better sense in the context of a sentinel watching for danger from his tower. But Gray (following a long line of critics) states that “the word אריה is probably corrupt.” Some have argued that during the history of the transmission of this passage in the MT tradition, a copyist inadvertently transposed the reš and ʾālep, thus reading ארי ה . Or, a copyist inadvertently wrote the ʾālep (from the preceding word) twice, thus reading ויקרא אריה . MT is followed by Vulg Tg “lion,” but this word is set in an interpretative phrase (“The prophet said, the sound of armies coming with their standard of a lion”). LXX attempted to make sense of MT’s reading by transliterating the name Ourias (“and call Ourias to the watchtower”).

 

In my judgment, based on the evidence, 1QIsaa has the primary reading with הרא ה “the seer,” thus reading “And the seer cried.” Already, long before the Qumran scrolls’ discovery, Lowth (and others) had emended the text to read הרא ה instead of  .א רְַי ה According to Weingreen, “the lion crying out is sheer nonsense…. The Qumran text has the correct word.” And Wildberger wrote that the scroll’s reading “has resulted in almost universal acceptance (Fohrer, Eichrodt, Young, Auvray, Schoors, Kaiser, et al.).” The reading of Syr approximates that of the Qumran scroll, with “Then the watchman cried into my ears.” (Donald W. Parry, Exploring the Isaiah Scrolls and Their Textual Variants [Supplements to the Textual History of the Bible 3; Leiden: Brill, 2020], 163)

 

Robert Alter on Isaiah 19:18

  

The City of the Sun. The Masoretic Text reads “the City of Destruction,” ʿir heres, but some Hebrew manuscripts as well as several ancient translations read instead, more plausibly, ʿir ḥeres, “the City of the Sun,” which is probably the Egyptian Heliopolis. The scribal error would have been caused by the fact that ḥeres is a rather rare synonym for “sun” and by the context of destruction created in the previous prophecy. (Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible, 3 vols. [New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2019], 2:683)

 

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

Miryam T. Brand on Sirach 25:24

  

Sir 25:24: Original Sin or a Wicked Wife?

 

Perhaps the most prominent of Ben Sira’s brief references to sin is Sir 25:24:

 

LXX

Hebrew MS C

ἀπὸ γυναικὸς ἀρχὴ ἁμαρτίας, καὶ δι᾽ αὐτὴν ἀποθνῄσκομεν πάντες.

מאשה תחלת עון, ובגללה גוענו יחד

From a woman is the beginning of sin, and because of her we all die.

From a woman is the beginning of sin, and because of her we die together/we die alike.

 

It is possible that this verse is one of the few references in Second Temple literature to “original sin,” the idea that humans have inherited sin from Adam as a result of his eating the forbidden fruit offered him by Eve. This idea existed alongside the tradition that death resulted from the first sin. Both these aspects of the “original sin” tradition are seldom found in surviving Second Temple literature. Apart from this verse in Ben Sira and the well-known passage in Paul (Rom 5: 12–21), this idea is found principally in literature written soon after the destruction of the Temple, namely 2 Baruch and 4 Ezra, indicating that the idea of “original sin” may have become more popular following the destruction.

 

However, the possible reflection of “original sin” in this verse becomes far less prominent once the verse is read in its context, namely, a passage that describes the disaster of being married to an evil wife. The verse that states that the “beginning of sin” is from “woman” is immediately preceded by the declaration, “A dejected heart and a sullen face and a wound of the heart is a wicked wife; slack hands and weakened knees (are from) a woman who does not make her husband happy” (Sir 25: 23). From this perspective, the “woman” who is the beginning of sin in v. 24 is the evil wife, not the Eve of antiquity. This forms a contrast with the good wife in 26: 1, who doubles her husband’s days.

 

Thus, Sir 25: 24 is principally an observation regarding the wicked wife that may nevertheless allude to the tradition according to which death or sin came to the world through the sin of Adam and Eve. The context of 25: 24, however, determines that Ben Sira’s primary focus is on the wicked wife; this verse is not meant to reflect his primary view of sin, but testifies to a common metaphor of sin “beginning” with a woman.

 

Two other verses in Ben Sira have sometimes been cited regarding views of the evil inclination: Sir 17: 31 and Sir 21: 11. While Sir 17: 31 refers to the inevitability of sin, the verse at Sir 21: 11 explains how the inclination may be controlled. An additional section that is relevant for exploring Ben Sira’s view of sin is Sir 23: 2–6, a passage that demonstrates the significance of the prayer genre in determining how the desire to sin is portrayed in Second Temple texts. (Miryam T. Brand, Evil Within and Without: The Source of Sin and Its Nature as Portrayed in Second Temple Literature [Journal of Ancient Judaism Supplements 9; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013], 113-15)

 

Miryam T. Brand on Barkhi Nafshi Rejecting an External, Supernatural Satan

  

4QBarkhi Nafshi similarly presents the inclination as a basic trait of the speaker that is evil by nature. However, 4QBarkhi Nafshi further develops the biblical concept of the yēṣ er in the context of a parallel with the śātān (“accuser/ satan”) of Zechariah 3: 2. As Tigchelaar has demonstrated, there is an intertextual relationship between 4QBarkhi Nafshi (specifically 4Q436 1 i-ii and 4Q437 4 par 4Q438 4a ii) and Zechariah 3, evident in the verbs used in both texts: g‘r, hlbyš, h‘byr, hsyr, g‘r, and śym. An investigation into this intertextual relationship reveals that the conversion of the rebuked śātān of Zechariah to an “evil inclination” (yṣ r r‘) in 4QBarkhi Nafshi corresponds to a process of abstraction that the author of 4QBarkhi Nafshi utilizes throughout. For example, instead of the defiled clothes of the priest that are removed and replaced with pure garments in Zechariah 3: 4, the speaker in 4QBarkhi Nafshi exults that God has removed his sinful ways and “clothed” him in the spirit of salvation (4Q438 4a ii.6: ורוח ישועות הלבשתני ), paraphrasing Isa 61: 10b כִּי הִלְבִּישַׁנִי בִּגְדֵי יֶשַׁע “for he has clothed me with garments of salvation.”

 

Consequently, rather than “demonizing” sin, the author of 4QBarkhi Nafshi creates an abstraction of the śātān. The non-human, external, and demonic role played by the śātān does not suit the author’s focus, which is wholly on the internal change that has been effected within the human being and the conversion of his innermost parts. For these purposes the śātān is transformed into a wholly internal evil inclination that is the abstract representation of the human desire to sin. This evil inclination, like the heart of stone, is removed entirely and replaced with a positive counterpart. (Miryam T. Brand, Evil Within and Without: The Source of Sin and Its Nature as Portrayed in Second Temple Literature [Journal of Ancient Judaism Supplements 9; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013], 47-48)

 

Miryam T. Brand on Freedom and Predestination in the Damascus Document

  

Freedom in the Context of Predestination

 

The freedom of choice described in CD II.14–III.12a follows a passage that emphasizes predestination. The preceding section is structurally divided from CD II.14–III.12 with a vacat, and opens with an expression that corresponds to the opening of CD II.14–III.12 (“And now listen to me…”). The structural sections CD II.2–13 and II.14–III.12 appear to be parallel to each other; according to their introductions the first reveals the “ways of the wicked” (II.2) and the second the “actions of God” (II.14–15).

 

However, the passages differ greatly in their emphasis. As shown in the analysis above, CD II.14–III.12a emphasizes freedom of choice regarding the decision to sin, despite a pessimistic view of the human inclination. The passage at CD II.2–13, while assuring the reader of the possibility of repentance (II.4–5), emphasizes divine foreknowledge and predestination. God has withheld the possibility of choice from the wicked from the beginning; he knew their actions even before they were created (II.7). In contrast, God has already designated individuals (“those who are called by name,” qry’y šm) who will form the “remnant” and will fill the earth with their descendants (II.11–12). The names of these chosen individuals will be made known through God’s anointed one and the “seers” of truth (II.12–13). The passage concludes with a cryptic non-sequitur: “and that which he hated, he led astray (ht‘h)” (II.13).

 

The meaning of this concluding statement and its connection to the enlightenment promised in II.12–13 is clarified through an examination of the root t‘h and its meaning in this section of the Damascus Document. In the passage that follows the historical survey explored above, III.12b–18, the audience is assured that those who continued to hold fast to the divine commandments were rewarded by God, who revealed to them “hidden things in which all Israel had strayed (t‘w),” including Sabbaths, appointed times, and the “ways of his truth and the desires of his will ‘which a person shall do and shall live through them’ (Lev 18: 5; Neh 9: 29)” (III.14–16).

 

In this passage, t‘h (to “stray”) refers to transgressing the “hidden” commandments that are only known to the community. This specific meaning for the root t‘h is also found in the historical survey in II.14–III.12, as shown by Gary Anderson’s analysis of this text. As Anderson notes, while the Israelites in Egypt transgressed a known commandment and walked in the stubbornness of their hearts, Jacob’s sons “strayed” (t‘w) and were punished for their inadvertent errors (mšgwtm).32 Similarly, in 4Q266 (4QDa) 11 10–11 the nations are deliberately “led astray” by God (wtt‘m), in contrast to the Israelites, who have received God’s commandments.

 

It follows that this is the manner in which God causes those he hates to “stray” in CD II.13: he does not reveal the hidden commandments to them. The chosen, in contrast, have been and will be enlightened with knowledge of these commandments. Thus the enlightenment of individuals described in II.11–13 is immediately contrasted with the non-enlightenment of the wicked, which will lead them astray.

 

However, as described in CD II.2-III.16, even those who have been enlightened with the revealed and hidden commandments may make the mistake of choosing their own will. The history of humanity in CD II.14-III.12 illuminates the possibility of such a mistake as well as its consequences.

 

Like the author of the Hodayot, the composer of CD II.14-III.12 integrates the paradigm of an innate inclination to sin with a belief in predestination. The paradigm itself, however, differs significantly from that found in the Hodayot. While the Hodayot presents human sinfulness that is inevitable without God’s intervention, this section of the Damascus Document presents a human desire to sin that is completely under human control. It is the responsibility of community members to fight their desire to sin, just as it was the responsibility of past Israelites who eventually suffered the consequences of their sins. The “logical” precondition for the ability to reject one’s inclination and to choose God’s commandments is access to knowledge of what God really wants. Without this knowledge, the unchosen are doomed to “stray.” (Miryam T. Brand, Evil Within and Without: The Source of Sin and Its Nature as Portrayed in Second Temple Literature [Journal of Ancient Judaism Supplements 9; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013], 82-84)

 

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