Plastination, the process of removing the fluids from a body and replacing them with liquid polymer, was invented by a 64-year-old German medical pathologist named Gunther von Hagens. Later this month, the Grand Rapids Public Museum is presenting an exhibit of Plastinated bodies called “Bodies Revealed.”
Von Hagens created the process to preserve cadavers for medical schools, but he soon found it more lucrative to exhibit the bodies and charge admission. To bring in crowds, he skinned, sliced and posed the corpses, billing them as art. Among his displays was a man carrying his own skin over his shoulder; another featured a man kneeling in prayer, his heart literally in his hands. His show, “Body Worlds,” created using donated cadavers, has attracted more than 26 million people over the past decade and has taken in over $200 million.
I, like many others, was fascinated by the reality of the the Artprize entry entitled Grandfather Monk Luan, a super realistic fiberglass resin sculture of the 87 year old model by artist Sunti Pichetchaiyakul. It was so lifelike that had he stood up and walked away, those gazing at it might have been momentarily startled, but would not have been surprised. We were impressed at the detailed artistry involved in creating such a lifelike sculpture. However, had Grandfather Monk been a plastinated human body instead of a constructed piece of art, most people would have been horrified that a human being had been turned into an Artprize entry.
Along similar lines, if somebody plastinated a deceased spouse and kept him or her in the living room or at the kitchen table or in the bedroom, I imagine that virtually no one would find this to be acceptable.
Ethical problems abound in the Bodies Revealed exhibition produced by Premier Exhibitions. Premier is paying $5 million per year to rent the bodies and organs it is exhibiting. Premier says that the bodies come from China’s Dalian Medical University. Their web site explains:The full body specimens are persons who lived in China and died from natural causes. After the bodies were unclaimed at death, pursuant to Chinese law, they were ultimately delivered to a medical school for education and research. Where known, information about the identities, medical histories and causes of death is kept strictly confidential.
In August, 2006, David Barboza, a New York Times reporter, learned that officials at Dalian had no record of Premier’s supplier obtaining the bodies there. In addition, Premier’s own web site indicates that they do not know the identities of the subjects.
In May, 2008, following a Congressional hearing and a settlement with the State of New York, Premier is now required to disclose “that it is not able to confirm that the bodies and parts being displayed were not, or did not belong to, Chinese prisoners who may have been victims of torture and execution” on its web site. I could not find this statement on their web site.
However, even if the bodies have been properly obtained, there are other reasons that reducing a human being to an object on display is distasteful.
Biblical tradition teaches that “You are dust and unto dust you shall return” (Genesis 3:19). Deuteronomy 21:23 indicates that even a criminal who has been executed must be given a burial the same day and not lie unburied overnight, “for that is an affront to God.” Biblical tradition teaches that a human being is created in the image of God. Jewish tradition teaches that desecrating a corpse is the equivalent of desecrating an image of God. Jewish tradition also teaches that benefiting from a corpse is prohibited. There is of course an exception when the benefit from the desecration directly leads to saving a life. The Body Worlds and Bodies Revealed exhibitions argue that they will ultimately lead people to take better care of their own bodies. This might be the case with a display of healthy lungs alongside lungs destroyed by tobacco; a healthy liver alongside a liver destroyed by alcohol abuse; or a healthy heart alongside one clogged with cholesterol plaque. It is less clear that bodies opened up and posed in various ways serves an educational, rather than a voyeuristic, purpose. It is clear that the organizer and the museum will benefit financially from the use of these human corpses. The show is a major commercial enterprise, directly benefiting from the human beings who did not give consent to be put on display. To preserve their bodies for an indefinite period of time for our entertainment rather than lay them to rest in a dignified manner is to turn death into a carnival side show.
I, like most other people, feel a compulsion to look at an accident on the side of the road to catch a glimpse of somebody else’s tragedy. I understand the nature of the impulse. A glimpse of the unfortunate person killed or injured is an opportunity to celebrate the fact that I am alive and breathing and healthy. I resist that impulse, at least when I am driving. Although part of me is fascinated by the similarly voyeuristic opportunity to see the internal plastinated anatomy of a real human body, I will not be going, and I urge you to refrain as well.
Embodied Torah
Sukkot and the Artprize Competition
Divre Harav – November, 2010 – Sukkot and the Artprize Competition
Part of the mission of Congregation Ahavas Israel is to be a resource for people who want to explore a Jewish path to God. As a congregation, we have presented various educational outreach programs to teach members of the Christian community about Jewish holidays and rituals. Our Passover Seder Experience has been a very successful outreach program, teaching church communities about the elements of an authentic Seder. My sense is that most Christians have heard of Hanukkah and Yom Kippur, although they may not really know the significance of the holidays. However, to most people outside of the Jewish community, Sukkot is completely unknown. They don’t realize that holiday that their Bible calls the Feast of Tabernacles or Booths is still celebrated by the Jewish community in much the same way as it was thousands of years ago.
This past September, to raise Sukkot awareness, a competition called Sukkah City took place in New York. Rules were published outlining how to build a Sukkah according to halakha. Entries were submitted. Twelve finalists were chosen by a panel of jurors. The finalists were invited to build and display the sukkot in Union Square Park. One winner was chosen by popular vote. Does this remind you of a little competition we held here in Grand Rapids, called Artprize? The organizers and funders of Sukkah city want to expand the competition to cities around the world next year.
During Sukkot, I, like many of you, enjoyed the Artprize competition. I enjoyed walking around looking at the variety of pieces of art. At some point it occurred to me that Artprize would be a great opportunity to teach about Sukkot.
I am imagining a Sukkah decorated outside and inside with prose and poetry and pictures about the meaning of the Sukkah, the message of the Sukkah and by extension the message of Judaism. It would be an exploration of homelessness and insecurity versus permanence and rootedness. It would explore the roots of the American Thanksgiving, and the growing interest in food production and community supported agriculture.
I am not an artist, an engineer, or a carpenter. This is not a project that I have the skills to coordinate. I’m just tossing out the idea to see if anyone is up for designing a Sukkah and entering it into the Artprize competition next year. I’m envisioning a small committee, sponsored by the synagogue, of a few people to design and build the structure, and a few people to create the messages on the walls. If this is an idea that appeals to you, please contact me. I will help you create an ad hoc committee to get started in preparation for next year’s Artprize.
The Sacred Choreography of Ballet
By no means am I an expert in the art of watching and understanding ballet. However, after watching the Grand Rapids Ballet this afternoon, something struck me that could also describe the nature of sacred community.
The dancing is exquisitely choreographed. The partners or the group of dancers jump together, rotate together, legs move together, arms move together, and most importantly, they come down together. An individual dancer moves precisely to the music. From a purely physical point of view, the most exciting and crowd pleasing part of the ballet is the individual who jumps the highest or has the physical ability to perform the greatest number of tricky maneuvers while flying through the air. However, doesn’t the beauty of the ballet depends on the most physically powerful dancers reining in their talent, a kind of tzimtzum, a contraction in their powers? An individual dancer who jumps so high that he gets behind the music is no longer beautiful. One of a pair or group of dancers who shows off her speed, throws off the balance of the entire ballet. One might say that when a group of people are on stage together, there is an aspect in which the group is only as strong as its weakest link. The strongest leapers gauge their jumping to match the weakest leaper. However, there is another way to look at a ballet company. Each of the dancers on stage has a unique set of strengths. Some have more physical size, some have more power, some have more balance, flexibility, speed, coordination. I noticed that in the three weekend performances, some of the principal roles rotated from once dancer to another. Some roles stayed with the dancer most suited for them, but other roles were played equally well, even if slightly differently, by a variety of dancers. A ballet company becomes a sacred community when each member appreciates the choreography of the whole and serves the whole with humility.
Within a religious community, there are people with identifiable and unique talents. However, for a group of people to pray together in a traditional Jewish community, those who can read prayers, read Hebrew, most quickly need to hold back; those who can sing the loudest need to restrain their voices so every voice can be heard; those whose knowledge of the liturgy is most fluent need to let other people claim a role in participating in the service. A community is not qualitatively better when the “weaker,” less knowledgeable, people stand aside for the more qualified people to take over. Less fluent people are not a weak link in a sacred community, because we presume that each person has unique gifts that only he or she can contribute. It is not a harmonious community when a small elite group shuts down the participation of the rest of the people. A community becomes sacred when each member appreciates the choreography of the whole and serves the whole with humility.
A Critique of Artscroll Press
I am often critical of the theology of Artscroll publications, and suggest that those who use anything produced by Artscroll need to understand that the theology behind their books is deeply embedded in their translations of text and commentary.
A great example of what I am talking about is found here:
http://onthemainline.blogspot.com/2010/10/where-in-world-is-robinson-crusoe-on.html
I encourage you to read the article. The author, Fred MacDowell, describes how a mid 20th century Torah commentator, Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, made reference to Daniel Dafoe’s Robinson Crusoe as an example of a person living in utter loneliness. The author even reproduces the page from the original Hebrew text, where one can very clearly read the paragraph mentioning Robinson Crusoe.
We also see a scan of the text of the Artscroll “translation,” which without comment or footnote omits that paragraph.
The author gives a number of guesses as to why Artscroll has emended the text of Rabbi Sorotzkin’s commentary:
- It doesn’t seem natural or proper that an authentic Lithuanian rosh yeshiva of the previous generation, the pride of the great Telzer yeshiva, would have even read Robinson Crusoe much less included a reference to it in his Torah commentary.
- Even if it was not written by himself, but based on oral talks, it doesn’t seem right that he should have referenced Robinson Crusoe in an oral talk on the Torah.
- While not explicitly doing so, he almost seems to recommend reading it.
- It appears strangely close to the much-maligned Torah U-Madda approach. [RK – The approach of the Modern Orthodox]
- This is farfetched, but it is interesting that one of Orthodoxy’s favorite arch-heretics, the hebraist Eliezer Ben Yehuda, many times cited his having read כור עוני, Yitzhak Romesh’s Hebrew translation of Robinson Crusoe, which was secretly shown to Ben Yehuda by his half-maskil rebbe, R. Joseph Blucker (?). See, for example, his autobiographical החלום ושברו. Reading the fine prose of this book helped kindle a love for the Hebrew language within him.
So once more I caution you – Artscroll publications might seem to make Torah, the Siddur, the Talmud, and other Hebrew works accessible to the non-Hebrew reader; but be aware that the original text and the version of the text that you are learning might not be the same. If Artscroll believes that Rashi, Ramban, Rambam, the Siddur, the Talmud, the Torah, or a commentary on any of the above departs from their very narrow theology, they will take the very ‘modern’ approach of emending the text!
Matisyahu Dovens at the Intersection in Grand Rapids
Matisyahu comes out on stage complete with the large black velvet kippah (thank God, not advertising Mashiah – he’s broken ties with Chabad), tzitzit hanging out, and peyot swinging. The crowd – 1,500 or so, whatever the Intersection in downtown Grand Rapids holds – goes wild. I can’t figure out why this group of Grand Rapidians is so excited. He begins singing. The first song is about a princess yearning to return to the King. I wonder how many of his fans have any idea that he is talking about the soul yearning to be near God, and how many are just attracted by the energy, the volume, his voice. He’s not just singing, something that the crowd intuitive knows, even though they might not be able to name what he is doing – dovening. He’s praying. He’s leading the crowd in prayer. His body is swaying back and forth. He continues with a song about the death of the body – created of earth, destined to return to the earth.
Later on, both the music and his dancing become more conventional, less like something you’d see in a synagogue. But near the end of the evening, after a wild dance, sweat visibly dripping off his peyot, his kippah falls off. He grabs a towel, and puts it over his head and shoulders, like a tallit. We’re now back to the dovening. His mood changes. He hums a melody – “My help comes from Adonai, maker of heavens and earth.” I may be one of a small handful in the room who understands the Hebrew words that go with that melody.
He begins dovening again, singing about Jerusalem, praying for the messianic era. It is clear to me, in this context, that his prayer reflects not just a Jewish messianism, but the hope that his music will unite Jews, Christians, non-Theists, all those represented by the bodies in the room that evening, in worship of God together, creating a beautiful messianic moment. May we see the day.
