(ג) כְּמַעֲשֵׂ֧ה אֶֽרֶץ־מִצְרַ֛יִם אֲשֶׁ֥ר יְשַׁבְתֶּם־בָּ֖הּ לֹ֣א תַעֲשׂ֑וּ וּכְמַעֲשֵׂ֣ה אֶֽרֶץ־כְּנַ֡עַן אֲשֶׁ֣ר אֲנִי֩ מֵבִ֨יא אֶתְכֶ֥ם שָׁ֙מָּה֙ לֹ֣א תַעֲשׂ֔וּ וּבְחֻקֹּתֵיהֶ֖ם לֹ֥א תֵלֵֽכוּ׃
(3) After the doings of the land of Egypt, where you lived, you shall not do; and after the doings of the land of Canaan, where I bring you, you shall not do; neither shall you walk in their statutes.
(כג) וְלֹ֤א תֵֽלְכוּ֙ בְּחֻקֹּ֣ת הַגּ֔וֹי אֲשֶׁר־אֲנִ֥י מְשַׁלֵּ֖חַ מִפְּנֵיכֶ֑ם כִּ֤י אֶת־כָּל־אֵ֙לֶּה֙ עָשׂ֔וּ וָאָקֻ֖ץ בָּֽם׃
(23) And you shall not walk in the customs of the nation, which I am casting out before you; for they did all these things, and therefore I abhorred them.
Mark Washofsky, Jewish Living: A Guide to Contemporary Reform Practice (2001), p. 270
The verse Leviticus 18:3…warns the people to reject the practices and the laws of Egypt, the land which they have left, and of Canaan, the land in which they shall settle…This does not mean, of course, that we are forbidden to learn anything from our neighbors. Specifically, tradition teaches, the verse prohibits us from adopting the ‘statues’ (chukkot) of other peoples, those religious laws and cultural customs whose adoption would suggest a desire to imitate the Gentiles and to deny our Jewish distinctiveness….Rabbis had to consider each issue on a case-by-case basis, making their determination against the backdrop of the social environments in which the community lived.
The verse Leviticus 18:3…warns the people to reject the practices and the laws of Egypt, the land which they have left, and of Canaan, the land in which they shall settle…This does not mean, of course, that we are forbidden to learn anything from our neighbors. Specifically, tradition teaches, the verse prohibits us from adopting the ‘statues’ (chukkot) of other peoples, those religious laws and cultural customs whose adoption would suggest a desire to imitate the Gentiles and to deny our Jewish distinctiveness….Rabbis had to consider each issue on a case-by-case basis, making their determination against the backdrop of the social environments in which the community lived.
Talmud Bavli: Sanhedrin 52b
“Pyres may be lit in honor of deceased kings, and this is not forbidden as being of the 'ways of the Amorites’: but why so? Is it not written, ‘neither shall ye walk in their ordinances’ [chukat hagoyim]? But because this burning is referred to in the Bible, as it is written: ‘[But thou shalt die in peace:] and with the burnings of thy fathers … [so shall they burn for thee]’ (Jeremiah 34:5), it is not from them [the outsiders] that we derive the practice.”
“Pyres may be lit in honor of deceased kings, and this is not forbidden as being of the 'ways of the Amorites’: but why so? Is it not written, ‘neither shall ye walk in their ordinances’ [chukat hagoyim]? But because this burning is referred to in the Bible, as it is written: ‘[But thou shalt die in peace:] and with the burnings of thy fathers … [so shall they burn for thee]’ (Jeremiah 34:5), it is not from them [the outsiders] that we derive the practice.”
Talmud Bavli: Avodah Zara 11a
"From which is to be inferred that the Rabbis hold that burning [of articles at a funeral] is an [idolatrous] cult; what then of the following which has been taught: The burning of articles at a king's [funeral] is permitted and there is nothing of Amorite usage about it? Now if it is a cult of idolatry how could such burning be allowed? Is it not written, and in their statutes ye shall not walk? — Hence, all agree that burning is not an idolatrous cult and is merely a mark of high esteem [for the deceased]..."
"From which is to be inferred that the Rabbis hold that burning [of articles at a funeral] is an [idolatrous] cult; what then of the following which has been taught: The burning of articles at a king's [funeral] is permitted and there is nothing of Amorite usage about it? Now if it is a cult of idolatry how could such burning be allowed? Is it not written, and in their statutes ye shall not walk? — Hence, all agree that burning is not an idolatrous cult and is merely a mark of high esteem [for the deceased]..."
Beth A. Berkowitz, Defining Jewish Difference (2012), p. 154
“Both talmudic pericopes on Lev. 18:3, Sanhedrin 52b and Avodah Zara 11a, deploy anti-syncretistic discourses, but the strategies work differently. The Sanhedrin redactor claims that burning is a Torah practice but does not deny that it is also a gentile practice. The Avodah Zarah redactor, on the other hand, robs the practice of its idolatrous meaning to make it acceptable within the rabbinic framework… The redactor of Avodah Zarah strips burning of its religious associations, relegating it to the margins of idolatry so that it can remain within the bounds of religious practice."
“Both talmudic pericopes on Lev. 18:3, Sanhedrin 52b and Avodah Zara 11a, deploy anti-syncretistic discourses, but the strategies work differently. The Sanhedrin redactor claims that burning is a Torah practice but does not deny that it is also a gentile practice. The Avodah Zarah redactor, on the other hand, robs the practice of its idolatrous meaning to make it acceptable within the rabbinic framework… The redactor of Avodah Zarah strips burning of its religious associations, relegating it to the margins of idolatry so that it can remain within the bounds of religious practice."
Moses Isserles, HaMapa, Yoreh De'ah 178 (circa 1560)
Rather, one [i.e., a Jew] should be distinct from them [i.e., non-Jews] in one’s manner of dress and in all of one’s actions. But all of this [i.e., these restrictions] apply only to things that non-Jews do for the sake of licentiousness. For example, they are accustomed to wearing red clothing, which is official/princely clothing, and other clothing that is similarly immodest. [These restrictions also apply] to things that they are accustomed to doing because of a custom or rule that does not have a[ny underlying] reason, out of concern that [a Jew who does such things will follow the] “ways of the Amorites,” and that it has the blemish of [i.e., is tainted by] idol worship inherited from their ancestors. But things that they are accustomed to doing for a useful purpose—such as their custom for expert doctors to wear particular clothing so that the doctors will be recognized as specialists—one is permitted to wear [such clothing]. Similarly, things that are done out of respect or another reason, it is permitted [for one to do such things]. And therefore they said one may burn [the items of deceased] kings, and there is not in this “the ways of the Amorites.”
Rather, one [i.e., a Jew] should be distinct from them [i.e., non-Jews] in one’s manner of dress and in all of one’s actions. But all of this [i.e., these restrictions] apply only to things that non-Jews do for the sake of licentiousness. For example, they are accustomed to wearing red clothing, which is official/princely clothing, and other clothing that is similarly immodest. [These restrictions also apply] to things that they are accustomed to doing because of a custom or rule that does not have a[ny underlying] reason, out of concern that [a Jew who does such things will follow the] “ways of the Amorites,” and that it has the blemish of [i.e., is tainted by] idol worship inherited from their ancestors. But things that they are accustomed to doing for a useful purpose—such as their custom for expert doctors to wear particular clothing so that the doctors will be recognized as specialists—one is permitted to wear [such clothing]. Similarly, things that are done out of respect or another reason, it is permitted [for one to do such things]. And therefore they said one may burn [the items of deceased] kings, and there is not in this “the ways of the Amorites.”
Blessing the Fleet, CCAR Responsa, 5751/1991
It is well to remember that most of the ritual innovations which the Reform movement proposed in the course of its history were attacked by its opponents as chukkat ha-goyim, such as prayer in the vernacular, instrumental music, or gender equality ... R. Isaac b. Sheshet (14th century) wrote that Jews need not do away with funeral customs which reflect secular practices among Muslims: "If you say otherwise, we might as well forbid eulogies, on the ground that Gentiles also eulogize their dead." Similarly, R. Joseph Kolon (15th century) permitted Jewish physicians to don distinctive medical robes worn by Gentile doctors. His wide-ranging analysis set forth these guidelines by which one could recognize what fell under the prohibition of chukkat ha-goy: customs which Jews adopt for no other apparent reason than to imitate the Gentiles; customs which offend the rules of modest behavior.
But practices which reflect legitimate purposes or are meant as tokens of respect are not covered by the prohibition of lo' telekhu. While this view was criticized by some, it was endorsed by R. Moses Isserles and codified in his addenda to the Shulchan Arukh. This in turn has become the basis for contemporary rulings.
Thus, R. Haim David Halevy permits the use of funeral flowers and the wearing of black clothing by mourners. Such practices are prohibited "only when we adopt their custom out of the desire to imitate their religious rites." For this reason too he defends the Israeli custom, borrowed from Western culture, of standing for a minute of silence on Yom Ha-Zikaron and Yom Ha-Sho'ah (Remembrance Day [for the fallen in Israel's wars] and Holocaust Remembrance Day).
It is well to remember that most of the ritual innovations which the Reform movement proposed in the course of its history were attacked by its opponents as chukkat ha-goyim, such as prayer in the vernacular, instrumental music, or gender equality ... R. Isaac b. Sheshet (14th century) wrote that Jews need not do away with funeral customs which reflect secular practices among Muslims: "If you say otherwise, we might as well forbid eulogies, on the ground that Gentiles also eulogize their dead." Similarly, R. Joseph Kolon (15th century) permitted Jewish physicians to don distinctive medical robes worn by Gentile doctors. His wide-ranging analysis set forth these guidelines by which one could recognize what fell under the prohibition of chukkat ha-goy: customs which Jews adopt for no other apparent reason than to imitate the Gentiles; customs which offend the rules of modest behavior.
But practices which reflect legitimate purposes or are meant as tokens of respect are not covered by the prohibition of lo' telekhu. While this view was criticized by some, it was endorsed by R. Moses Isserles and codified in his addenda to the Shulchan Arukh. This in turn has become the basis for contemporary rulings.
Thus, R. Haim David Halevy permits the use of funeral flowers and the wearing of black clothing by mourners. Such practices are prohibited "only when we adopt their custom out of the desire to imitate their religious rites." For this reason too he defends the Israeli custom, borrowed from Western culture, of standing for a minute of silence on Yom Ha-Zikaron and Yom Ha-Sho'ah (Remembrance Day [for the fallen in Israel's wars] and Holocaust Remembrance Day).
From Rabbi Yael Rapport and Rabbi Liz P.G. Hirsch's upcoming article CCAR Journal: Symposium on Halacha, 2019
What we typically think of as yoga was only one part of a substantial Eastern Ayurvedic system that encompassed many streams of practice as it was originally conceived. The pathway of asana, the physical component in which the practitioner holds postural poses, is the most widely practiced in our North American context, sometimes in concert with dhyana, the pathway of meditation. True Yoga practice involves an integration of both the outer and inner experience through a series of philosophical steps, of which asana is only step three. Our modern posturally-centered yoga practice, with its focus on health benefits rather than metaphysical attainments, bears little resemblance to the 5,000 year old system from which it was derived. It retains the clear imprints of a major cultural shift that occurred in India with the rise of British imperialism a mere hundred years ago, where it gained widespread popularity as a resistance movement. Where Western colonial definitions of power determined the ideal to be those who could exert the maximum amount of external force, as in the military subjugation of an entire people, yoga practice was a home-grown movement, emphasizing internal power through awareness, integration, flexibility, and self control... we must empathize with an ancient system of belief that has been marginalized by an oppressive majority culture. The story of Yoga and the story of Judaism share many common themes.
What we typically think of as yoga was only one part of a substantial Eastern Ayurvedic system that encompassed many streams of practice as it was originally conceived. The pathway of asana, the physical component in which the practitioner holds postural poses, is the most widely practiced in our North American context, sometimes in concert with dhyana, the pathway of meditation. True Yoga practice involves an integration of both the outer and inner experience through a series of philosophical steps, of which asana is only step three. Our modern posturally-centered yoga practice, with its focus on health benefits rather than metaphysical attainments, bears little resemblance to the 5,000 year old system from which it was derived. It retains the clear imprints of a major cultural shift that occurred in India with the rise of British imperialism a mere hundred years ago, where it gained widespread popularity as a resistance movement. Where Western colonial definitions of power determined the ideal to be those who could exert the maximum amount of external force, as in the military subjugation of an entire people, yoga practice was a home-grown movement, emphasizing internal power through awareness, integration, flexibility, and self control... we must empathize with an ancient system of belief that has been marginalized by an oppressive majority culture. The story of Yoga and the story of Judaism share many common themes.