Every year, on the evening of the seventh of the Jewish month of Adar, each Chevra Kadisha (Jewish burial society) gathers together. During the day, they will often spend time visiting the graves of some of the people they have interred during the year.
The date is symbolic. It is the anniversary of the death of Moses, who passed away at the age of 120 — a key reason why in Judaism we wish people to live to such an age.
Chevra Kadisha literally means “holy friends”; among themselves, however, members will refer to it as “the Chevra” — the friends. And in the UK, as elsewhere around the world, on Adar 7, each Chevra will meet.
The one exception to the rule in the UK is the burial society of Munks, the independent German-Jewish synagogue in Golders Green. They meet not on the 7th of Adar but on the 15th of MarCheshvan — the anniversary of Kristallnacht.
The United Synagogue Burial Society, however, holds a dinner for its members, who are all volunteers, on Adar 7.
The male and female branches of the organisation are structured differently. The women operate as one organisation, and perform the taharah (purification rites) and the preparation of the body for burial of all female members of the US who pass away (their dinner is held on the night breaking the Fast of Gedaliah, just after Rosh Hashana).
By contrast, the men’s version is split into different branches, with a number of US shuls having their own Chevra, dealing specifically with congregants of their own synagogue.
“There’s a lot of talk — should we organise the men similarly to the women — but they actually like to volunteer for their own shul,” Melvyn Hartog, the head of the United Synagogue Burial Society, says.
For shuls who do not have their own Chevra, there are also US Burial Society staff who will perform the taharah.
There are tables for different shuls — Bushey, Belmont, Edgware are among those present.
The US Burial Society as a whole pays for the dinner.
“Years ago, Chevra members would pay towards these seudahs,” Mr Hartog said.
“But I stopped all that. To me, it’s our way of saying, ‘Thank you’, how much we appreciate them, because they don’t want anything for what they do.”
Each year, one of the branches of the US Burial Society “hosts” the other branches for the dinner, and this year, the privilege has been given to Alei Tzion, a young US congregation based in Hendon. Looking around the room, the majority of those present are aged fifty or above. The exception is the Alei Tzion table, where the average age is closer to mid-thirties.
“They’re absolutely brilliant,” Mr Hartog says.
“They are a shul of young professionals but they say, ‘Look, thank God we’ve got nobody dying, but we will help because we want to do the taharah.’ And that’s why we honoured them for tonight, for them to host us.”
Avi Gillis is one of the members of the Alei Tzion chevrah.
“The message goes out — it’s all WhatsApp based — ‘They’ve requested that we do a taharah this evening’,” he says.
“The message is usually sent out in the morning for that evening. We try and get a team of four. Usually we end up doing it late at night.
“All of us are young people with young families, with full-time jobs — some people are lawyers working insane hours — but people somehow find a way to make time for it.”
The number of taharahs they do can varies
“It seems to be almost seasonal. But it often comes in bursts, so we’ll have two or three in relatively short proximity and then we won’t have one for a few weeks.
“I guess it just depends on whether someone passes away and it’s from a community where they don’t have a Chevra Kadisha, or it’s a very elderly person and perhaps they were a member of the United Synagogue, in a shul in the East End which no longer exists, that’s quite common.”
Regarding the lack of many other young chevra members, he says he believes there is a something of a “taboo” around the subject.
“There’s definitely a feeling among some parts of the community that if your parents are still alive, you shouldn’t do this. Unfortunately, that won’t work if we want sustainability. And you have to, in my opinion, inculcate that will to be a part of this from an early age, otherwise young people won’t understand what’s required.
“Additionally, I think that maybe with some young people, it’s indicative of the decline of young people’s involvement in shuls in general.
“But I think if a load of young people came along and said to the burial society, ‘We want to be involved’, I’m sure they’d bite their hands off.”
Mr Hartog confirms that the chevra is “always looking for more volunteers, obviously”, but warns: “You’ve got to be a particular type of person, not everyone is ideal to deal with dead people.”
Above all else, it soon becomes clear, is the importance the society places on affording respect to the departed. For example, questions of halachah (Jewish law) sometimes arise. When this happens, the United Synagogue are in touch with Dayan Elimelech Vanzetta, who was appointed by the London Beth Din 18 months ago specifically to advise on such issues for both the men and women’s chevras.
When speaking to him, it is clear that his uppermost concern on the issue of burials is that the deceased be treated with dignity. For example, in cases of suicides. “Nowadays, it is mostly a myth that someone who commits suicide is buried at the outskirts of the cemetery by the walls,” Dayan Vanzetta says.
Suicide is forbidden according to the Torah but “the suicide the myth is associated with is someone who takes their own life simply to go against the will of the Almighty”.
Over a century ago, a prominent halachic authority ruled: “Whenever there is a suicide, there is an underlying reason for someone taking their own life. Normally we’re talking about people who, for one reason or another, emotional reasons, mental health issues and so on, take the extreme decision of ending their own lives.
“We have a duty of care towards that family and the niftar (the deceased) — the niftar should be buried with dignity and the family has to be accorded this level of dignity, we need to be there for them.
“God forbid we should add salt to the wound and say, ‘In addition to all your suffering, this person will now be buried in a part of the cemetery reserved for suicides’. We don’t even have that in our cemeteries. Unfortunately, we have had to handle some suicides in the last 18 months and every single one of them was afforded a dignified, normal burial, as with anyone else who dies of old age at 120.”
One of the only instances in which a person cannot be interred in the United Synagogue cemetery is where the deceased has specifically requested to be cremated, which is forbidden by Jewish law.
Another circumstance, which might surprise some given certain well-publicised Orthodox perspectives on LGBT issues, is the decision on how to treat the bodies of deceased transgender people, when it comes to the purification process.
“Halachically you can’t alter your gender,” Dayan Vanzetta makes clear.
However, “over here we have a dichotomy between the person’s DNA identity and the person’s appearance. Normally the appearance will determine which Chevra Kadisha will handle that specific person. If the person is physically a female, then it will be the female Chevra Kadisha, and if the person is physically a male, than it will be a male Chevra Kadisha.”
I ask if he is saying that in the case, for example, of a post-operative transgender person, who was born a man and has had this procedure and now, to all intents and purposes, looks like a woman, the woman’s Chevra Kadisha would do the taharah?”
The answer comes immediately.
“Yes. And vice versa.”
Dayan Vanzetta describes this as “a recent development.
“Myself, as the first person that is normally called on to paskin (provide a ruling on) these matters, and the Beis Din, we take the view that physical appearance will be very important in determining which Chevra Kadishah will handle that taharah.
“We have to be very sensitive and very understanding of the circumstances regarding the family.”
Another initiative the dayan is helping to introduce is a plan to make the United Synagogue’s cemetery at Bushey more accessible for cohanim. Under Jewish law, cohanim are not meant to go near dead bodies except in very specific circumstances.
“When Dayan Ehrentreu was Rosh Beis Din, many years ago he built a sort of eruv in Bushey cemetery, which operates in the same way as an urban eruv enabling carrying on Shabbos.”
As a series of wires strung up on poles, it makes “a separation, albeit not a physical separation, but it creates a separation between the burial plots and the paths.
“We are extending it throughout Bushey [cemetery], so probably a cohen would be able to go all around and deep inside to visit. My whole idea is to make it as user-friendly as possible for absolutely everyone who unfortunately has to go to the cemetery, be the person a cohen, a levi or a yisrael.”
When asked if there is something particularly he wants the community to be aware of, Mr Hartog emphasises prioritising, above all, the deceased and their family.
“If one of their loved ones dies, they do not have to worry [about how they will be treated],” he says, regarding US members.
“As soon as we’ve picked their loved one up, they will be looked after with kid gloves and they will be absolutely tended to in the most humane way. Everything we do is to make sure right until the burial that that family is kept informed and also they can see and rest assured that we will take care of their loved one.”
