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May 1, 2026 Not Like the Others Dear Friends, Many of us grew up with different children's games and exercises requiring us to look at pictures and identify what seems out of place or contextually inappropriate within it. I personally remember Highlights magazine having a page called "What's Wrong With This Picture?" and Sesame Street would pique our curiosity with "One of These Things is Not Like the Others." I was thinking of this in connection with this week's portion, Parashat Emor, as the Israelites are given what is still the Jewish calendar, and more commandments are bestowed upon the priests and the people. Many of the mitzvot enjoined upon us were given specifically to differentiate ourselves from the other nations around us. In a verse from K'doshim, God tells us bluntly, "You shall not follow the practices of the nation that I am driving out before you. For it is because they did all these things that I abhorred them." For example, if the Canaanites domesticated and ate pigs, we Israelites are forbidden from doing so. Last week and this week's portion mentions something that is very much a controversial topic to this day. In last week's Holiness Code, we read: "You shall not make gashes in your flesh for the dead, or incise any marks on yourself." And this week we read that the priests too "shall not shave smooth any parts of their heads, or cut the side-growth of their beards, or make gashes in their flesh. We can assume correctly that the forbidding of these customs for us implies that Canaan and the other neighboring nations did them. And yet, this has come to mean, to much of Jewish tradition, that tattoos and piercings are explicitly forbidden; and therefore, having either or both, many believe, should disqualify them from burial in a Jewish cemetery. Not only do I know many rabbis who actually have tattoos, I have a classmate, Marshal Klaven, who wrote his rabbinic thesis on tattooing in Jewish history. (Here is a short piece he wrote a few years ago alluding to it). While Jewish tradition values the incredible holiness of the human body, as among the most intricate and wonderful gifts of God's creation, we know that our ancestors had tattoos, and we know they definitely had piercings; otherwise, they wouldn't have had much to build the Golden Calf! So what is the prohibition here? To me, the prohibition the Torah prescribes is precisely about the sanctity of life. That the longer we're privileged to live, the more we will suffer the loss of loved ones who mean so much to us. Of course we will feel, and should feel, bereft in those moments; we should mourn those we loved and remember them always in their highest and best moments. But we shouldn't harm ourselves, cause ourselves physical anguish, and damage the bodies God has given us as a response. No, as the great sage Ben Sira wrote: "Bewail the dead, hide not your grief, do not restrain your mourning. But remember that continuing sorrow is worse than death. When the dead are at rest, let their memory rest, and be consoled when the soul departs." Mourning is meant to be a process that is engaged completely and fully. And, as a process, it means there can and must be an end to that process. To gash our skin and wound our flesh does nothing to resurrect our loved ones, and does nothing to help us move forward in life. It injures the holy vessels that God gave us to house our souls, and is therefore seen in this light as a sin. To maim ourselves in a moment of loss may feel like a powerful tribute, but our tradition says it's not. A tattoo of a symbol or word of strength and inspiration, or even carrying a memory with you of a loved one - these are, to my mind, worlds apart from inflicting pain on ourselves in order to feel like we're doing something meaningful. As we enter into the weekly gift of Shabbat, and its blessings of rest and rejuvenation of our bodies and minds, I pray that the sanctity of life will be something we are eternally grateful for, and that it guides us to live life - and mourn its loss - in ways that are physically, mentally, and spiritually healthy. Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Joshua Strom
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