Human Composting Is Officially Here
How are we feeling about this?
Greetings from the other side of Passover.
Just before the holiday, I attended the funeral of a community member, a friend’s father, a man who led a rich life and was loved by many. It was a cold, wet day, and the entire service was held graveside. An hour in, my hands and feet went numb. But standing there in the drizzle, among countless tombstones marking Jewish lives, I thought about how important it is to feel pain. It is important, sometimes, to suffer a little. It means you are present, you are there with and for the mourners, you are joining in a long tradition of sharing the sadness of fellow Jews. Finally, it came time to lower the pine casket into the ground. People lined up to pour shovels full of dirt into the hole — a collective, participatory ushering of a body into its final resting place.
Our burial practices are not Biblically mandated. Customs have changed over time, and remnants of lost traditions remain. But there is something comforting about the sameness of Jewish funerals. There is a sense of cohesion and communal care.
Which is why I think some of us feel weird when alternative scenarios are introduced, like the latest, “human composting” — an innovative approach to death care that tackles some big environmental problems. This article explores how the conversation is evolving in Jewish circles, and how some Jews are working to build Jewish rituals into the practice.
As always, I invite comments here or via email at thecholentseattle@gmail.com.
Emily
Human Composting Is Officially Here
Jews are already busy working out what this means.
In January of this year, the United States’ first facility enabling Natural Organic Reduction — also known as “human composting” — opened here in Washington, just outside of Seattle. Already, it’s catching the attention of Jewish environmentalists and seeping into the margins of religious discussions.
While the idea of “human compost” might conjure visions of people stuffing their loved ones through wood chippers or blithely tilling them into their garden soil (just me?), Natural Organic Reduction (NOR hereon) is a remarkably clean process that involves letting a body decompose naturally, albeit speedily, in a controlled vault of natural matter. The result is a pickup bed-sized pile of healthy soil that can be taken home or donated to a conservation area in southern Washington. (It may also be the least morbid alternative death scenario out there. Its closest relatives are the regular flame cremation and the newer aquamation, a clean but somewhat grotesque water-based decomposition process.)
Olympia resident Hilarie Hauptman started following the development of NOR as it went from an idea to SB 5001, which Governor Jay Inslee signed into law in May of 2019. The effort was led by NOR pioneer Katrina Spade, whose grad school research and Urban Death Project resulted in the opening of Recompose. (Already, Recompose has two emerging competitors.)
“I feel like the process has been so intentionally created, and I’ve gotten really clear for myself that I don’t want to take up space in the ground,” Hauptman says. “At the same time, I really want Jewish rituals.”
Hauptman has been involved with Jewish end-of-life rituals since experiencing her father’s death in 2002. Since becoming inspired by NOR, she’s been meeting monthly with three rabbis and three chevra kadisha leaders from around the West Coast to develop Jewish mourning rituals and liturgy that are compatible with NOR. “What we’re doing is looking at all of those special moments after death where Jewish ritual could be incorporated into natural, organic production stages,” she says.
But is NOR compatible with Judaism to begin with?
Hauptman’s rabbi, Seth Goldstein of Temple Beth Hatfiloh in Olympia, works through some of the main issues in a blog post and in a conversation that took place at the Big Bold Jewish Climate Festival. The main issues seem to be kavod hamet (respect for the dead — is it respectful to rapidly destroy a body and dump the soil in a garden?), ecology (a newer but serious concern for many Jews), and deriving benefit (for instance, if the soil is used to plant a fruit tree, there could be issues with eating or selling the fruit). Added to that are halachic implications and the idea of resurrection.
Doron Kornbluth, author of Cremation or Burial? A Jewish View, takes the position that NOR is yet another attempt by humans to control God’s plan. “We shouldn’t fight and attempt to exert our power through speeding things up or slowing things down, no matter what elements (artificial or natural) are added,” he writes in an email. “In the end, we simply lay the body down to rest and let nature take its course. In the end, we accept the judgement of G-d and cede control. In this way, we end our time on the planet with humility.”
“We shouldn’t fight and attempt to exert our power through speeding things up or slowing things down, no matter what elements (artificial or natural) are added.”
NOR is far more natural than cremation, which is anathema to many Jews who associate it with the Nazis. “If either I’m going to cremate mom or compost her, I guess compost her,” says Rabbi Avi Rosenfeld, the spiritual leader of Modern Orthodox community Mercaz in North Seattle and a chaplain at Evergreen Hospital and Hospice. Rosenfeld is still disturbed by his Jewish grandparents’ decision to cremate in the shadow of the Holocaust. NOR is better, but not great. He draws attention to something else that might be lost: having a place to visit the departed. “People might say, ‘I don’t need to be remembered,’ [but] their families might feel differently,” he says.
Hauptman is one who is not concerned with a physical marker. “I personally don’t need a plaque on a tree, and I believe people who would want to remember me would feel really good knowing that my compost is in this particular area, but it doesn’t have to be confined to, let’s say, a four-by-eight plot,” she says. “What’s exciting about right now is that we get to do what may make sense for myself and my family. It may not make sense for someone else. And so my own particular wish is that I get to be a part of new growth, but it doesn’t need to be in a confined space.”
Being part of new growth is a theme for NOR enthusiasts.
For Ted Falcon, a Reform rabbi in Seattle who founded the meditative synagogue Bet Alef and is known for his role as one of the Interfaith Amigos, “honoring the process for our bodies to be supporting new growth [is] just such a beautiful image.” Aware that he’s often an outlier in the rabbinic community, Falcon doesn’t see a huge problem with alternative death practices, including cremation, because the body is simply a vessel for something much more eternal. “You can’t lose it; whatever you do to the body you do to the body, but that which endures, which is our essential identity, this consciousness, this awareness, this awakeness…this endures, no matter what happens to the physical container.”
“You can’t lose it; whatever you do to the body you do to the body, but that which endures, which is our essential identity, this consciousness, this awareness, this awakeness…this endures, no matter what happens to the physical container.”
The resistance to NOR is resistance to thinking about death, he reasons. “I’m really hard pressed to find any objection on a spiritual level or a Jewish level,” he says. “There’s a resistance to any significant change. Human beings have difficulty dealing with death anyway.”
According to Hauptman, Katrina Spade has worked for religious inclusion from the beginning, and Hauptman’s liturgy group is working with Recompose’s funeral director. Hauptman hopes having Jewish resources available will be beneficial to any Jews who opt for NOR.
Ultimately, NOR is at odds with age-old Jewish burial customs, but it will likely become favorable particularly for those who think of Judaism as a vehicle for environmental justice. And it does come down to what the individual wants, regardless of how family, friends, and coreligionists feel about it.
Hauptman has already gained support for her wishes with her husband and son. “If I could do something that feels so good to me, and…if I can bring my loved ones along, that feels like a win-win,” she says. “I’m looking forward to the opportunity, when it happens, to having this choice.”
Community Announcements
Check out the Seattle Jewish community calendar.
This week’s parasha is Shemini. Holy vs. profane. Two of Aaron’s sons bring the wrong kind of offering and are struck dead; Aaron is silent (as he is most of the time) and not allowed to mourn. After this mysterious episode, lists upon lists of edible and forbidden animals.
Candlelighting is at 7:33 p.m.
Announcements from Cholent Friends:
Mindy Stern has launched an author website. Go to www.mindysternauthor.com and sign up for her newsletter to get updates on her latest writing. Mindy’s most recent piece is about her difficulty dealing with her children and grandchildren moving to Berlin.
Tova Gannana is holding a vintage garden party dress sale on April 20, 3-8 p.m., at Earth and Vine Wine Bar on Bainbridge Island. Instagram: @tovagannana
Shoutouts
Shoutout to Rabbi Yohanna Kinberg of Kol Ami, A Center for Jewish Life. She and her husband Rabbi Seth Goldstein of Temple Beth Hatfiloh in Olympia led a great Mamouna celebration last weekend on Zoom. —Linda Bookey
Shoutout to the conscientious networkers — nurses, docs, volunteers — who field calls and share updates about where to get COVID-19 tests and vaccines. —Gigi Yellen-Kohn
In memory of Bahram Cohanim a"h —Melissa Rivkin and David Cohanim
Paid monthly/annual subscribers and founding members can submit shoutouts and announcements. The editrix has the right to moderate all content. Send shoutouts and personal announcements to thecholentseattle@gmail.com.
