Chanting, Ashes, and Incantations: Not Your Average Yom Kippur Reading

by Kendra Walz

Over Yom Kippur, I decided to sit down and read an entire book within 24 hours. The book was One Hundred Saturdays by Michael Frank—a nonfiction account of Stella Levi and the Sephardic Jewish community that once thrived on the Greek island of Rhodes. Early in the narrative, Stella describes the folk magic and rituals elderly women performed to treat various ailments. For instance, if a young woman suffered from anxiety spells, she would stay with an elder for a week while the surrounding neighbors completely cleared out. The elder would then chant incantations while circling the young woman’s head with a fistful of mumya—the ashes of Jewish saints allegedly collected from Jerusalem.

This was particularly shocking to me because of how incredibly Catholic it sounded. Performing healing rituals with the remains of a saint is certified Catholic behavior. The strangest thing about it was that the community of Rhodes cited Jewish saints. What could a Jewish saint possibly be?

What could a Jewish saint possibly be?

Mumya is the Turkish word for mummy, and at the time of Stella Levi’s childhood, Rhodes was under Ottoman occupation and Turkish was one of the many languages spoken on the island. The only “Jewish” saint I know of is Saint Edith Stein, but that’s a story for another blog post and probably not what the Jews of Rhodes had in mind when they went searching for mumya.

So what exactly is a Jewish saint in this context? The book did not delve any further or explain what Stella Levi meant by this. A Catholic saint is a real person who has a recorded life and death who–after meeting certain criteria–is “canonized” by the Vatican and therefore considered a saint by the Catholics. Catholics often set up alters in their homes dedicated to the saints they believe watch over their home and may pray to them for specific needs.

In Hasidic communities, they hang photos of the Rebbe in their home or pray at his grave. There are also holy sites in Judaism, such as Rachel’s Tomb and the Cave of Patriarchs, that place holy significance on the resting place of Jewish figures. During Sukkot, some Jews welcome Ushpizin–the spirits of Jewish forefathers and perhaps other deceased ancestors–to visit the Sukkah at night. However, it is unrealistic to believe that the Jews of Rhodes were somehow managing to grab some of Rachel or Abraham’s ashes on their trips to Israel way back during the Ottoman empire. The question still stands, what exactly was happening on that island?

Jews do recognize the concept of a tzaddik, a person who is quite a few levels above a mensch. A tzaddik is undeniably human, but has earned the special title by being exceptionally righteous. To some Hasidic communities, the Rebbe may be considered a tzaddik. A big difference between Jewish prayer involving tzaddik and Catholic prayer involving saints is that Jews to not pray to another human, but rather may ask a deceased tzaddik to pray to God on their behalf. This concept may seem contradictory to some major concepts in Judaism–the story of the Golden Calf tells us that there should be no intermediary beings or objects between a person and their relationship to God. Regardless, this is a well documented practice that occurs in many Jewish communities, and may have occurred to some extent on the island of Rhodes many many years ago.

Whether it was a theological contradiction or a beautiful piece of localized folk magic, the mystery of the “Jewish saints” of Rhodes reminds us just how beautifully complex, fluid, and wonderfully unexpected religious history can be.

 

Kendra has a background in non-profit management and grant administration. She graduated with an MBA in International Business from the University of Hartford in 2026. She volunteers with multiple Jewish organizations in the Greater Hartford area, and Israel, and has been published in the Jewish feminist magazine, Lilith.