xiphias: (Default)
xiphias ([personal profile] xiphias) wrote2011-10-29 10:15 am
Entry tags:

Writer's Block: R.I.P

[Error: unknown template qotd]

Take any parts that anybody can use, and use 'em. Take the rest, put it in a kittel, and have someone sit with the body reciting psalms. Ideally, someone who knows me and wants to do that, and would find it comforting to do so. That probably means having my body wrapped in a shroud BESIDES being in a kittel, because, having removed any and all useful bits, I expect the remainder wouldn't be very pretty -- no embalming, no neatening up my corpse, so just wrap it up so that it's not disturbing to anyone.

Quickly get the word out that I'm dead, so that anyone who wants to be there can hear about it and get to the funeral, then put the remains in as cheap a pine box as possible. Bury it in a Jewish cemetery with a fairly traditional ceremony, and then, hopefully, I'll have lived a life such that some people will be moved to say kaddish for me over the next eleven months.

[identity profile] rubynye.livejournal.com 2011-10-29 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)
I'll have lived a life such that some people will be moved to say kaddish for me over the next eleven months.

If you predecease me, and I haven't learned the prayer by then, I will.

[identity profile] bill_sheehan.livejournal.com 2011-10-29 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
I just consulted Rabbi Google. Kaddish appears to be the standard telling the Almighty that he is, well, all-mighty. There's no "Eternal rest grant unto him, and let light perpetual shine upon him" stuff. Is that because there's not necessarily an afterlife in Judaism?
goljerp: Photo of the moon Callisto (Default)

[personal profile] goljerp 2011-10-30 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
I am not a Rabbi, but I'm going to cite some:

"The kaddish is a prayer that praises God and nowhere mentions death or mourning. Yet, over time, it has become the central ritual associated with mourning." (Rabbi Michael Strassfeld, A Book of Life, pg. 449)

Rabbi Reuven Hammer, in his commentary on the new Siddur Sim Shalom (a Conservative prayerbook), suggests that the honor of saying the Kaddish was given to mourners. Over time, it became associated with mourning.

So (this is just me here), it looks like what happened is that a particular prayer became associated with mourning, and by this point, hey, it's a tradition. It's also got some rather good points, from the standpoint of helping mourners. You can only say the Kaddish with a quorum of 10 Jews. (The liberal movements count women in this, but that's another point.) So, for the mourner to fully participate, there need to be 9 other people. This leads to the custom of having people visit the mourner at the beginning of the mourning period (shiva), and also encourages the mourner to leave their home and be with other people afterwards.

As far as afterlife goes, the El maleh rachamim prayer, also associated with mourning, is a bit more explicit about afterlife stuff.

[identity profile] xiphias.livejournal.com 2011-10-30 02:27 am (UTC)(link)
Well, that's not the reason why. There are other prayers that are said during the service that are more in that "eternal rest" vein.

The kaddish, however, is actually a general-purpose prayer. It's used in various daily and holiday services as a demarcation prayer, when you're going from one section of the service to another. And, more relevant to this, it's also said before you start doing some formal study of the Torah, in a group context.

Because of that, it became a tradition for disciples of particularly well-respected teachers to say this in memory and respect, for the year after their death. Then for anyone considered particularly wise.

Then they realized that, doing it that way, NOT saying it kinda implied that the person in question WASN'T wise, so implemented it for everyone.

[identity profile] xiphias.livejournal.com 2011-10-30 12:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Also, on a bit of a more personal note:

When my grandfather died, my mother, [livejournal.com profile] rebmommy performed the funeral service. It's, of course, very difficult to do a funeral service for your own father, but Papa wanted her to do so -- he knew it would be difficult for her, but felt that it would be the best thing for the whole family, including Mom (and I think he was right, too.) Papa was an atheist, and not very religious, although he and Nana did host a Seder for the family every Passover, and sent all their children to Hebrew school, so that they could know about their heritage.

Religion wasn't Papa's thing personally , but he was very proud of Mom for her study and her work in becoming a rabbinic pastor. He was proud of all of his children and grandchildren whenever they found a role in life that was fulfilling for us, no matter what that role was.

Anyway, putting the funeral service together for her father posed challenges for Mom, aside from the obvious emotional challenge of being in the dual, and conflicting, roles of officiant and mourner. She looked at the different parts of the funeral service and thought about which parts were appropriate for Papa, and which were not.

She decided that the El maleh rachamim prayer would NOT be appropriate:
"God, full of mercy, who dwells in the heights, provide a sure rest upon the Divine Pressence's wings, within the range of the holy, pure and glorious, whose shining resemble the sky's, to the soul of ---- son of ----, for a charity was given to the memory of his soul. Therefore, the Master of Mercy will protect him forever, from behind the hiding of his wings, and will tie his soul with the rope of life. The Everlasting is his heritage, and he shall rest peacefully upon his lying place, and let us say: Amen."


However, the Jewish community has also developed a non-theistic prayer which is also part of the memorial process:
When we are weary and in need of strength,
When we are lost and sick at heart,
We remember him.
When we have a joy we crave to share
When we have decisions that are difficult to make
When we have achievements that are based on his
We remember him.
At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring,
We remember him.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn,
We remember him.
At the rising of the sun and at its setting,
We remember him.
As long as we live, he too will live
For he is now a part of us,
As we remember him.

Mom, my sister, and I actually did a little editing of it, to put in some references to sailing, jazz, stage magic, and dentistry, to make it more personal and accurate.

And, bringing it back to the original point, she thought a bit about Kaddish, too. Because that IS a prayer about G-d. But she decided that the reason we say it is for the MOURNER'S relationship with G-d, not the deceased's. Mom decided that, as SHE believes in G-d, it's appropriate for her to say Kaddish for Papa. El maleh rachamim would not have been appropriate, because it is about Papa's soul and relationship with G-d, and Papa didn't believe in the soul or in G-d.


Hunh. Just realized something. You know that really awful thing that some people say about atheists, that "how could an atheist be a good person if they don't believe in God?" I just realized why I'm so offended by that.

My grandfather was one of the absolutely best people I've ever met, one of the kindest, most decent, most honorable people I've known. He didn't believe in the soul, or in God. Anyone who questions the ability of atheists to be good people is insulting the memory of my grandfather, and insulting the honor of my family.