the CCAR’s Responsa Committee, the Reform rabbinic committee providing guidance on contemporary issues, asserts: “Torah prohibits us from…subjecting our bodies to needless physical damage….It teaches us that we do not own our bodies; rather, God has entrusted them to us for safekeeping, and we are responsible to God for what we do with them….Tattooing [is]…an act of hubris and manipulation that most surely runs counter to the letter and spirit of our tradition…” (CCAR Responsa 5759.4). We welcome your perspectives on tattooing at reformjudaismmag.org.
BUILDING BRIDGES by Marshal Klaven
I
that I would be barred from burial in a Jewish cemetery had meant little to me as a teenager, when contemplating my own mortality was so far from my consciousness. Only later did I learn that it was a bubbemeise, an old wives’ tale, rooted in fear and superstition rather than in Torah. This was confirmed to me by Orthodox Rabbi Chani Benjaminson, who wrote: “Nothing in Jewish law prohibits a tattooed person from being interred in a Jewish cemetery. Still, certain burial societies—not the majority of them, or even close—will not do so.” At age 20, I decided to have my back tattooed with an intricate Tree of Life design complete with Torah scroll (the Torah itself being a Tree of Life) and the words Shema and Echad (a declaration of my faith). As the first person in my immediate family accepted to a four-year university, I felt excited, scared, and confused. Wanting to hold fast to my Jewish roots as I navigated this uncharted territory, I found the perfect metaphor—a tree stays rooted to its source, even as it extends its branches outward. At the time I was working as a youth advisor for a Conservative synagogue in Boca Raton. Would having tattoos get me fired? I worried. Thankfully the rabbi in charge accepted the decision of Rabbi Alan Lucas, a Conservative authority who wrote, “However distasteful we may find the practice [of tattooing], there is no basis for limiting one’s participation in synagogue. The fact that someone may have violated the laws of kashrut or the Sabbath would not merit such sanctions; the prohibition against tattooing is certainly no worse.” In 2003, I applied and was accepted to the rabbinical program of the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion. The seminary was looking for pas-
Previous spread: Photograph by Kyle New ton
“My mother’s warning that I would be barred from burial in a Jewish cemetery was a bubbemeise, an old wives’ tale.”
am a rabbi, proud to affirm my love of Judaism…on my skin. I got my first tattoo at age 16 after returning from a high school program in Israel. I decided to avow my place among my people Israel by tattooing a small Star of David with a dove in the middle on my left ankle. To my mother, it was an affront. When I asked her why she was so bothered by it, all she would say was, “Because you won’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery.” Then she went dead silent. That’s when you know a Jewish mother is really upset. Many years later, I asked her why she had been so adamant against tattooing. “Regrets,” she said. “Your stepfather has the name ‘Joan’ tattooed on his forearm.” My mother’s name is Susan. To spare my mother any hard feelings over this former girlfriend, my stepfather wore a Band-Aid over the tattoo for years. “Unlike piercings,” my mother explained, “tattoos stay with you, affecting future relationships and employment opportunities. As your mother, my job is to set you up for success. Tattoos are a threat to success. I don’t want you to live with regret.” My mother’s warning The Star of David / Sh’ma tattoo on my arm.
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