Yizkor and Kaddish

This Shabbat we conclude the celebration of Passover. It is a very special Shabbat. We will celebrate an 80th birthday party, we will hear from our seventh graders as they lead the Torah service, we will think about love as we hear the poignant and beautiful verses of Song of Songs, Shir haShirim. And towards the end of the services we will pause to remember.

Passover is one of four times when we add Yizkor. This year in the congregation we have a number of people who lost a parent. Others lost a spouse, an aunt, an uncle, a brother-in-law. We had a family that tragically lost a granddaughter.

Saying Yizkor is always evocative. Emotional. Poignant. Yizkor means Remember. What is it that we are remembering? It is a link in the chain that connects us one generation to the next.

Why at the pilgrimage festivals and Yom Kippur? Because in the midst of our gladness, we are still sad. Even on our happiest days. That is part of why we also smash a glass at Jewish weddings.

The components of Yizkor are simple. A couple of Psalms, El Maleh Rachamin, (The Committal Prayer), some personal reflections on those we have individually lost, and in many communities, the Kaddish. Maybe 10 minutes.

Those personal reflections are unlike other prayers we have. Designed to remember the departed by acknowledging them as our teachers and promising to give tzedakah because the good deeds of the survivors will elevate the souls of those who went before. We will also attain a measure of personal atonement and forgiveness by doing an act of lovingkindness, chesed.

Kaddish is an ancient prayer, written in Aramaic, the common language of the day, so that it could be understood by everyone. Written in about the first century BCE for use in the house of study, not the house of prayer or synagogue, students and teachers would rise to praise G-d’s name after a learned discourse. Not wanting to be elitist, eventually it would be recited for anyone—scholarly or not.

In preparation for this I learned that the Lord’s Prayer is quite probably related to Kaddish. Matthew 6:9-13. “Our Father who art in Heaven hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come,” is very similar to “Exalted and hallowed be God’s great name
in the world which God created, according to plan.
May God’s majesty be revealed in the days of our lifetime
and the life of all Israel — speedily, imminently, to which we say Amen.”

The congregation echoes with “Blessed be God’s great name to all eternity.” And many places try to do this with as much force and meaning as they can muster.

Blessed, praised, honored, exalted, extolled, glorified, adored, and lauded
be the name of the Holy Blessed One, beyond all earthly words and songs of blessing,
praise, and comfort.

It always amazes me the number of synonyms that the rabbis strung together that mean praise—blessed, praised, honored, exalted, extolled, glorified, adored, lauded. And recognized that language ultimately fails and that we cannot adequately praise G-d. And perhaps this is precisely why it works. Because G-d is above all those words.

Because we summon the courage to praise G-d for life, even in the face of death. No matter how difficult that is. Because it was not originally a mourner’s prayer and it never mentions death.

There are five different Kaddish prayers—and we use most of them.

  1. Kaddish DeRabbanan, the Scholar’s Kaddish—the one originally written to praise G-d after a rabbi had given a teaching.
  2. Chatzi Kaddish or Reader’s Kaddish, that acts like a punctuation mark separating parts of the service.
  3. Kaddish Shalem, the full, complete, whole Kaddish that comes at the end of the Amidah. It adds a phrase to “accept the prayer and the supplication of the entire Jewish people.”
  4. Kaddish Yitom, Mourner’s Kaddish.
  5. The last one is sometimes referred to as the burial Kaddish because it is said graveside. Yet it is also said at the completion of a studying a tractate of Talmud when one makes a siyyum, a party. The connection is that both events hope for a world redeemed and renewed.

Kaddish has taken on an almost mystical allure. There is something in the rhythm of the words, still recited in Aramaic, less clear in meaning today. There is something in being linked to all the generations that have said it before. There is something in the notion that saying Kaddish would shorten the amount of time our very own loved ones would spend in Gehenna (hell) before ascending to Olam Haba (the world to come).

In some congregations only the mourners rise, those who have experienced a recent death or are marking the anniversary of a death (yahrzeit). Since the Holocaust when so many have no one to say Kaddish for them, many rabbis invite all to stand. My personal custom is to invite all those who are saying Kaddish for a loved one or have the tradition of always rising for Mourner’s Kaddish to rise and join with me.

In some places women are still not allowed to say Kaddish and there have been some very ugly battles in my opinion particularly recently in Israel when women have been prohibited from saying Kaddish for a parent right at the funeral itself.

On the very night I had planned to explain Kaddish, we had a very powerful experience.

We had 8 Jewish worshippers and 3 from a local church, one of whom had recently lost his spouse and had come to experience Kaddish.

It is traditional to say Kaddish only in the presence of a minyan, 10 Jewish adults over the age of 13. In the old days that would be 10 Jewish men since women, children and slaves were not obligated to time bound mitzvoth so didn’t count. Some say if there are nine Jewish adults you can have a child hold the Torah or a chumash, and that counts.

What is the reason for 10? The usual reason is that Abraham argued with G-d to save Sodom and Gemorah. Would G-d destroy Sodom and Gemorah if there were 50 righteous people? How about 40? Abraham bargained G-d down all the way to 10—but alas there wee not even 10 righteous people so Sodom and Gemorah were destroyed.

Here is my argument. Now it occurs to me that when Abraham was bargaining, the people of Sodom and Gemorah were not Jews. They were not even Israelites. They were Canaanites. So we are back to the idea of needing 10 righteous people, Jewish or not. Furthermore, in Pirke Avot, we learn this Mishnah:

“Rabbi Chalafta the son of Dosa of the village of Chanania would say: Ten who sit together and occupy themselves with Torah, the Divine Presence rests amongst them, as is stated: “The Almighty stands in the congregation of G-d” (Psalms 82:1). And from where do we know that such is also the case with five? From the verse, “He established his band on earth” (Amos 9:6). And three? From the verse, “He renders judgement in the midst of the tribunal” (Psalms 82:1). And two? From the verse, “Then the G‑d-fearing conversed with one another, and G‑d listened and heard” (Malachi 3:16). And from where do we know that such is the case even with a single individual? From the verse, “Every place where I have My name mentioned, I shall come to you and bless you” (Exodus 20:21).” (Pirke Avot 3:6)

While the ideal is clearly 10, it is even the case that G-d is present when there are 5. And so we rose, all of us together, to recite the mourner’s kaddish, with a much richer understanding of its purpose. And in the process, we became, at least for an instant, holy.

This Shabbat we will say Mourner’s Kaddish three times, as well as Kaddish DeRabbanan, Chatzi Kaddish and Kaddish Shalem and Yizkor. Come join us as we praise G-d’s name and become that holy community that Abraham was bargaining for. Then we pass on this tradition to the next generation, lador v’dor, Come join us as we ourselves become holy, if only for an instant.