"I Live Alongside Death. Yes, It's Possible"

Nobody likes to talk about death. Though we all encounter it now and then, sometimes closely and sometimes from a distance, the conversation about it is typically challenging for us. This is also why Israel Meisler, who has been devoted for 25 years to the crucial task of purifying the deceased women at the Chevra Kadisha in Jerusalem, often finds that even her close friends prefer to change the subject when they hear about her occupation. "That's perfectly fine, I completely understand," she says sensitively.

However, there are situations where Israel finds herself being asked, occasionally by family members of deceased women or those with relatives in critical conditions, questions about her work. This is precisely why she agreed to be interviewed to provide a small glimpse into her important and moving life's work.

(Photo: shutterstock)

A Life of Mission

Israel moved to Israel nearly a decade ago. Before that, she lived in Belgium and for 15 years was responsible for the purification of deceased women in Antwerp. "Even in Belgium, I rarely spoke about my work," she notes. "Even my closest friends didn't know exactly what I was doing. It felt like what is said about ultimate kindness." After moving to Israel, she intended to continue the mitzvah of purification. She approached the Chevra Kadisha offices and soon found herself integrated into the work at Jerusalem's Chevra Kadisha.

Weren't you apprehensive about the challenging work?

"I wasn't apprehensive. I come from this field and am very familiar with the procedures. It's also important to mention that I never work alone, but as part of a group of 12 women. Whenever there is a need to perform a purification, four of us handle it. Chevra Kadisha insists on having at least four women involved in any purification process to ensure maximum respect, since a Jewish body after passing is like a Torah scroll that must be respected even after it decays. This strictness guides the purifiers in all their actions, bringing honor and sanctity at each moment and stage of handling the revered Jewish body. Because I live very close to the Shamgar Funeral Home, I'm also often called to perform "kriah" for women during funerals.

"When I look around at the women I work with, I can say that each one is very special. These are great women, who don't shy away from any task and genuinely perform l'shem shamayim. I learn a lot from my team members, especially from their ability to carry out each action with sanctity, modesty, and great respect for the deceased. During the purification process, we don't speak a word to each other, not even about the purification itself. Each one knows her role, and we perform all that is required of us with a great sense of mission.

"The work is not easy at all, and it involves a significant emotional struggle. One thing I see repeatedly is that death is always difficult, especially when it's someone close to you. Over the years, I've also seen that particularly when it comes to the death of parents, the sorrow knows no age. Even if a parent fulfills their years and passes away at a ripe old age, their children still experience considerable difficulty parting. I've attended funerals with very harsh sights, especially when it involved elderly and fulfilled people."

Does being at so many funerals help you get used to the difficult sights?

"Nothing dulls the senses and every case is hard and shocking. But there are especially tragic instances where I find it very hard to return to routine. For example, when it involves young children who pass away or sudden deaths. I've had the occasion to perform kriah at a few funerals of the Meron disaster victims, which is something etched deeply in my heart and stays with me to this day. Over the years, there have also been several instances where I was called to funerals of people I knew. The sorrow is indescribable when you participate in the funeral of someone you know from the synagogue, or encounter a young widow with her orphaned children. There are also times when I perform the purification rites for women who were ill before they passed, and then you can really see the suffering they endured. This is also something that burns deeply into my heart; sometimes, I find myself nearly choking while doing what I'm tasked with. In such situations, I pause, take a few breaths, and only then proceed.

(Photo: shutterstock)

Each time I leave my mission pensive, visibly aware that regardless of whether someone is rich or poor, we all eventually undergo the same purification and reach the same place. Working at Chevra Kadisha changed my entire outlook on life. My perspective has completely transformed, and I see this as my personal gain."

Work Without Hours

It's work that transcends the boundaries of hours and days. How do you cope with that?

"From the moment I took on this mitzvah, I decided that I never respond to a call with 'no.' Instead, I always do my utmost to reach the task, even if it's difficult. There have been many instances where it was really inconvenient for me to come, yet I changed all my plans to handle the situation. Another rule I've set for myself is not to look at the clock during work. The purification actions sometimes take a long time and sometimes they are shorter. But in any case, the clock doesn’t factor in at all. Once I take on the mission, I dedicate myself to it and forget everything that awaits me and what surrounds me. Even at the funeral itself, I try to be with the family girls and understand that they need me, never rushing them. I give them all the time to process, cry, eulogize, whatever they need. Of course, it's not always easy. There were cases where I was summoned at one or two in the morning, and once I was called to arrive half an hour before Rosh Hashanah, and often there are funerals on the eve of Shabbat. It doesn't matter when; the moment a call is received, I leave everything and rush to the task."

But how do you manage? After all, you have a home and family...

"I've learned to prepare for unexpected situations. For example, I always finish preparing for Shabbat in the morning hours so I can go out in the afternoon if needed. Overall, I always try to be ready to go out, knowing that at any moment a call might come in."

And what do you experience during your "regular" daytime hours? Is it possible to live a normal life alongside dealing with death?

"My life goes on as usual. I leave the funeral home and continue with my other activities, trying to live and function like any other woman. Of course, it's not easy at all, I'm constantly living my occupation and thinking about it a lot, but I don't let it control my life. I believe that Hashem wants us to live full and happy lives and serve Him with joy. I try to fulfill His will."

And what are the reactions of the people around who hear what you do?

"When I perform the purification, I never know who the person is, as we receive women without names. But there have been several occasions where women have approached me after the funeral to express their appreciation and happiness that I was the one who performed the purification for their family member. There's someone who, for five years, has been making a point to invite me each time to her mother's memorial day, expressing her appreciation, which is very moving to me. On the other hand, I also understand those who prefer not to talk about it and don't even approach to say thank you at the end of the funeral. Talking about death is hard for all of us; not everyone is capable of discussing it, and that's clear to me. I'm content knowing that I've had the privilege to engage in a holy service, and I pray every day for Mashiach to come, that we won't have this work, and that we'll meet only in joyous occasions."