This Drasha is L'ilui nishmat (for the elevation of the soul) of my cousin, Sharona bat David a’h, who was one of the sixty-nine people tragically killed in the Los Yébenes, Toledo train crash on 28th October. May her memory be a bracha to her devastated family.
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You never
know in which direction your life will pan out.
If you’d told me a decade ago that I would be a communal Rabbi involved in
four – yes, four! - shuls, I would have checked whether the glass in front of you
contained a high level of alcohol. But that’s
what’s happened and I feel truly honoured and humbled to find myself in this position. I only wish my parents were here to see it.
That said,
I find myself in their vicinity quite frequently, granted that I live five minutes’
drive from Bushey New Cemetery where they are interred. I spent a great deal of time ensuring that the
inscriptions on their stone accurately described their attributes and respective
personalities. Living in proximity to
the cemeteries means that I am sometimes asked by the Burial Society to officiate
when duty calls and I’m the nearest Rabbi available. When you’re on first name terms with the staff,
both in the office and on the grounds, you know that you’re really part of the team.
I would also like to add how blessed we are
to have the ‘human angels’ employed at all the Jewish cemeteries that I frequent. They are, without doubt, amongst the crown
jewels of the United Synagogue.
Our first
encounter with the Jewish rites revolving around the loss of a loved one can be
found at the start of this week’s Parasha of Chayei Sarah:
Sarah’s lifetime – the years of Sarah’s life – were one
hundred and twenty-seven. Sarah died in Kiryat
Arba – that is Hevron – in the land of Canaan.
And Avraham came to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her. Then Avraham rose from beside his dead and spoke
to the Hittites. He said, “I am a migrant
and a visitor among you. Sell me a burial
site here so that I can bury my dead.”
We then read
how Avraham negotiated with Efron, son of Zohar the Hittite over the sale of the
Cave of Machpela and the field in which it was situated, which is the very same
Cave of the Patriarchs that we can visit today in Hevron.
Dr Tzilla
Eshel, a lecturer at Haifa University’s Zinman Institute of Archaeology, has estimated
that in today’s money, the four hundred silver pieces that Avraham paid would roughly
equate to $624,000 (or £462,300) (https://thetorah.com/article/how-silver-was-used-for-payment). That’s a pretty expensive piece of real estate
both then and certainly now, granted that he paid for a field and a cave (without
any mod cons)!
The Torah
underscores and highlights the importance that Judaism has always ascribed to honouring
our dead - a fundamental tenet of our religion that exists to the present day. Our rites, before, during and after a levaya/funeral,
represent the highest level of respect and honour we can afford to the deceased,
from the emphasis on ensuring a quick burial following the death to the Shiva and
Shloshim (the first thirty days following the levaya) and the remaining eleven months
leading to the first yahrzeit (anniversary of the passing). We recite the Kaddish prayer, many of us learn
Mishna in the deceased’s name and give Tzedaka to help with elevating their soul
to Gan Eden, the Garden of Eden which is Judaism’s name for Paradise.
Last week,
I was approached by the Montefiore Endowment to officiate at the levaya of Mark
Negin, an extraordinary man who dedicated many years of his life looking after the
Montefiore Synagogue and Mausoleum at Ramsgate.
Unfortunately, Mark had no children and so his relatives took on the responsibility
of arranging the levaya.
There is a
lovely obituary of Mark at https://theisleofthanetnews.com/2026/11/03/tribute-to-artist-designer-montefiore-synagogue-guide-and-ramsgate-community-stalwart-mark-negin/
I have a great
deal of affection and respect towards the Endowment due to their unlimited generosity
in training and sponsoring me to become a Rabbi. It is a gift that I will be eternally grateful
for until the end of my days.
Mark’s levaya
was due to take place at Ramsgate Jewish Cemetery, which is situated 110 miles from
my home. Granted the importance placed on
honouring the dead, I set off on a long car journey that included negotiating motorway
crashes, countless roadworks and standstills whose lengths might qualify them for
an entry in the book of Guinness World Records! I exaggerate, of course, but sometimes it felt
as though I might not make it there in time for sunset.
Anyway, I
arrived, embarrassed by my tardiness given the number of people who were waiting
for proceedings to begin. They kindly
took this in their stride and Mark was duly buried and given the honour he rightfully
deserved. It was one of the most moving funerals
I have been privileged to officiate at.
Following
the levaya, we drove the half-mile route to the impressive Montefiore Mausoleum
where Sir Moses and Lady Judith are interred and the beautiful synagogue, which
is situated directly opposite. Having davened/prayed
Mincha in the shul, we sat outside, watching the sun set over the horizon, eating
and drinking and hearing his nephew play Mark’s favourite liturgical music expressively
on his violin which we sang along to. Reminiscing
on his life, we gave him the honour he was due, in a way that perfectly encapsulated
the mourning process Avraham initiated in this week’s Parasha.
The Torah
tells us that
וַתָּ֣מׇת שָׂרָ֗ה בְּקִרְיַ֥ת
אַרְבַּ֛ע הִ֥וא חֶבְר֖וֹן בְּאֶ֣רֶץ כְּנָ֑עַן וַיָּבֹא֙ אַבְרָהָ֔ם לִסְפֹּ֥ד לְשָׂרָ֖ה
וְלִבְכֹּתָֽהּ׃
And Sarah
died in Kiryat Arba, that is Hevron, in the land of Canaan and Avraham came – lispod Sarah – to eulogise Sarah velivkota, which means literally ‘to cry over her’. Chazal tell us that the letter Kaf in ‘Velivkota’
is smaller than the other letters to teach us that Avraham’s public weeping over
his beloved wife’s death was tempered by the knowledge that she had lived a full
and meaningful life. He knew that she would
receive her ultimate reward in Gan Eden.
In eulogising and limiting his mourning, he was honouring her in the most
meaningful way.
Some people who
follow a different faith demonstrate their mourning by using self-flagellation to
express their grief but that is not our way.
We do things differently.
In Judaism, we
honour a person’s death by celebrating their life and often, when I officiate at
a stone-setting, I make a point of emphasising this aspect of our religion. Whilst it is important to mourn and grieve a person’s
passing, I believe it is also just as significant to note that this is not the way
they would want to be remembered in the long term.
Judaism is all
about life and ultimately recognising that though a body may not be physically alive,
its soul is eternal.
The greatest honour
we can afford anyone is to ensure that their memory, as we say, will be a bracha/blessing
to everyone who either knew and loved them, or in the case of our ancestors, learned
about them over the course of our life.
Each year, we
retell the narratives of the Torah and Avraham, Sarah and their progeny are brought
back to life. May their memories and the
mitzvot/commandments they teach us be a bracha to us all.
Amen.
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