I do not believe in an afterlife, although I am bringing a change of underwear.

— Woody Allen

In his 1991 film Defending Your Life, Jewish writer-director Albert Brooks imagines an afterlife that bears a number of similarities to life as we know it. Called Judgment City, it’s a place where the recently deceased must demonstrate how they overcame their fears and made the most of their lives. If they’re unable to do so, they have to return to earth and try again. Oh, and one more thing: In Judgment City, you can eat all the Fettuccini Alfredo you want without gaining a pound.

Except for the part about the pasta, this vision of the world to come doesn’t differ too much from what Rabbi Berry Farkash recently described at a talk in Issaquah. He discussed a “heavenly court” wherein the souls of those you knew on Earth will greet you, and where a “movie” of your life will play. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob will sit in judgment, and you must — yes, indeed — defend your life. If you befriended any tzadikim (righteous people) while on Earth, they’ll advocate on your behalf. Just something to keep in mind at your next cocktail party.

The fact that the afterlife isn’t emphasized in Judaism as much as in other faiths, like Christianity and Islam, doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of ideas circulating about what it’s like. I spoke with several rabbis on this topic, and two of them mentioned Neil Gillman, the author of The Death of Death: Resurrection and Immortality in Jewish Thought. In the book, Gillman makes it clear that while the average Jew may not spend much time contemplating eschatology (the aspect of theology concerned with the world to come), Judaism has by no means ignored it.

“Eschatology is central to the Jewish religious myth,” Gillman writes. “And central to Jewish eschatology is the doctrine of an afterlife for each Jew.”

He adds that the resurrection of the dead at “the end of days” — commonly thought to be the time following the Messiah’s arrival — is also a key aspect of Jewish belief in Olam Haba, the world to come.

If, as Gillman states, there’s Jewish “doctrine” regarding the afterlife, why do many Jews feel less certain about it than, say, Sarah Palin? One reason is that Judaism manages a balancing act that eludes many other religions: It acknowledges the possibility of an afterlife without dwelling on it. As a general rule, Judaism is more focused on actions than beliefs, which squares with the faith’s emphasis on fulfilling as many of the 613 commandments as possible, not to access a glorious afterlife, but simply because that’s the duty God has charged us with. Since the Torah and the Talmud concentrate on earthly life, there’s no official view of the afterlife in Judaism, meaning that there’s room for discussion, interpretation, and personal opinion.

While Judaism isn’t dogmatic about the world to come, widespread belief within the faith has swung back and forth over the millennia. In modern times, the pendulum is fairly close to where it started: A place of de-emphasis and, in many cases, relative indifference. Rabbi Daniel Septimus of Temple De Hirsch Sinai recently led a discussion on the afterlife as part of the synagogue’s “Torah ’n’ Tonics” series for young adults. Septimus says the topic is “something that many Jews don’t feel comfortable talking about,” especially when confronted by members of other faiths. He added that Jews in biblical times didn’t believe in an immortal soul that was separate from the body.

In The Death of Death, Gillman notes: “Almost throughout, the Bible views death as absolutely final.” There are only three exceptions, and at least one of them — the episode of the dry bones (Ezekiel 37:11-12) — can be viewed, according to Gillman, as “a metaphor for the national regeneration of Israel” following the destruction of the First Temple. Septimus says it was during the Second Temple period when Rabbinic Judaism, influenced by Greek philosophy, began to posit an afterlife.

This shift in thinking hardly resolved the issue, however. The famed medieval sage Maimonides was uncomfortable discussing the world to come; consequently, he developed a naturalistic interpretation of the Messianic age. Rather than suggesting that the dead will be resurrected, Maimonides described a more realistic scenario: “[T]he Jews will regain their independence and all return to the land of Israel. The Messiah will be a very great king…. His great righteousness and the wonders that he will bring about will cause all peoples to make peace with him and all lands to serve him…. Nothing will change in the Messianic age, however, except that Jews will regain their independence.”

Maimonides’ decision to interpret even the words of biblical prophets like Isaiah as allegory, only to be fully understood once the Messianic age is upon us, proved highly influential. When I spoke to Jason Miller, the rabbi of Congregation T’chiyah, my childhood shul in Detroit, he remarked that while Reform and Reconstructionist Judaism have changed liturgical language related to the resurrection of the dead, Conservative Jewish thought, in which he was trained, retains the original text but allows for a metaphorical interpretation. It’s usually in Orthodox circles that concepts like resurrection are taken most literally, and the afterlife receives the most emphasis — but even there, in true Jewish fashion, there isn’t a monolithic way of thinking on the subject.

What’s an anxious Jew to do in the face of such epic uncertainty? While our sages and rabbis will surely continue to discuss the issue for millennia to come, our comedians seem to offer us the greatest comfort. So pack some clean underwear, rehearse your argument for the heavenly court, and hope for the best.