A handsome young man once came to me and said that he was asked to pose as a model. The first time I saw him, I was also struck by his good looks. At that time, I had put forth a prayer that his features should never be the cause of his downfall.
I was saddened at the prospect that he would pursue this type of career. I exhorted him to at least lay tefillin and observe certain other mitzvot, which would protect his neshamah.
One day, I got a phone call from him. “Honored Rav, I must have your advice,” he began. “My father passed away, and his funeral is this afternoon. But I am scheduled to fly somewhere in order to sign a contract with a big company, to pose for them. This is an offer of a few million francs. But I don’t know what to do. My father’s funeral is exactly the same time as the flight.”
“Do you know what the burial society will do today with your father?” I asked.
“They will bury him, obviously.”
“Do you know what they bury? They bury a person’s body. Do you resemble your father?”
He responded in the affirmative.
“If so, think a little about your end. Your body, too, will be buried underground, as we are told, ‘You are dust, and to dust shall you return’ (Bereishit 3:19). Still, you insist on selling your body to a foreign firm. The Jewish nation does not subscribe to modeling. It is not fitting for a man or woman’s body to be on public display. Moreover, how can you, in good conscience, take a flight to sell your body when you know that your father’s body is being interred just then?”
The young man was surprised at the turn in the conversation. I continued, “I would like to express my condolences, and I sincerely hope you make the right choice.”
A few days later, I met this young man in the Beit Hakeneset Buffault in Paris, when I delivered a sermon there. After my speech, this young man approached me. I noticed that he hadn’t shaved, as is the custom among mourners. I asked what had happened in the end regarding his contract. He replied, “I came in order to rip it to pieces before the Rav.” Before I could utter a word, he took out the contract and tore it to shreds.
“What made you change your mind and forego such a lucrative career?” I asked.
“My body is not for sale!” he declared determinedly.
I was extremely happy to hear this. “You acted properly,” I told him. “One cannot observe Hashem’s mitzvot while doing whatever he feels like. There are times when a person must decide which road he is taking, for better or for worse. I am glad you chose the right road, the one that leads to life.”
