What Happens After We Die? Yizkor Sermon by Rabbi Denise L. Eger, October 13, 2005
As we come to this hour of Yizkor, of remembrance, our thoughts and memories turn to our loved ones who have died. We take time out of our holy day observance to mark our loss, to share thoughts of them and yes, shed a tear or two as well.
For some of us this Yizkor hour re-opens the pain that a recent death inflicted. Especially if our loved one died in this past year—reaching this High Holy Day Season without them is a distinct marker in our mourning. For others of us this Yizkor service is but one of many that has passed since we stood at their grave or cried out upon hearing the news of their death. But in some ways this Yizkor service helps us mourn and grieve and to once again go on with life.
It might be a brother or sister that we mourn today. Perhaps a parent passed this year. Or perhaps it was a lover, a spouse’s memory that brings a tear to our eyes this day.
Our Yizkor service and our willingness to stand and recite the kaddish prayer affirms our connection to them and strengthens us in the process. By reciting Kaddish this afternoon together, we shall build a bridge to their souls.
The Yizkor service helps us redeem the souls of our departed. Through our recitation of the Kaddish prayer and through our acts of tzedakah in the departed’s memory, we can bring honor to those who have died. We can through the way we commit to live our lives—in the highest ethical plane—bring their souls into the highest communion with God and with us.
Yom Kippur Day is a day of mourning. We are mourning the death of our old selves even as we are engaged in the birth of a new self. And we are mourning the deaths of our loved ones who added to our lives and shaped us even as we shaped them. But this Yizkor service is also entwined with the notion that the new self we hope to take from here today—a cleansed self, a pure self, a sin-free self will live in this new year in a manner that will uphold the values that they held dear, that made them proud of us.
Even as we shed a tear for a parent or partner, child or grandparent we wonder where they are? What happens to them after they die? Where have they gone? And what does Judaism think about death?
Our tradition has many layers of thought on this subject as you might imagine.
First and foremost is that we believe in the soul. We Jews call it neshama or nefesh, but we possess a soul. Holy Sacred Energy that gives human beings their essence. And it was God who breathed that soul into us—as God breathed the first breath into the first human being at the Garden of Eden. So within us in a bit of the divine—It doesn’t make us God but each person, made already in the image of God has within them some glowing remnant of the Divine. And we call that the soul. We believe the Soul is eternal. It doesn’t die. Only our bodies die. We wear out. We get sick. Our bodies break down. But our souls do not.
Thus when we die, we only bury the house of the soul—the body. But the essence, the holy essence of humanity—the soul, returns to God. According to the Talmud (Yoma 20b), The soul leaves the body “with a cry that reverberates from one end of the world to the other.” Our recitation of the kaddish prayer helps to release the soul, calm it and help it on it journey to return to God. This is the redemption of the soul that we spoke about earlier.
Now in truth there are some among us who believe that when we die—all of us dies. That’s it. Nothing. The rationalists of Judaism put their emphasis instead on this life. They believe there are no such thing as an eternal soul, no eternal world and no world to come. The only remnants of our lives after we die are the snippets of memory in a friend or loved one, or the feeling of love we survivors feel in our hearts.
There are others, the mystics who believe that not only is the soul eternal but that through a process called gilgul hanefesh, the cycle of the soul, that there is reincarnation. The mystics and some kabbalist held views that said that our soul was seeking in each life to reach a higher plane of connection to God. Each successive life enabled our soul a stronger bond with the Divine. Living the principal of d’vekut—or clinging to God is the ultimate desire of the Jew in this interpretation and with each successive incarnation we are growing closer to God.
The Rabbis of the Talmud viewed death as a moment of transformation. It says in Pirkei Avot (4:21 ) “Rabbi Jacob says: This world is like a anteroom before the world to come; prepare yourself in the anteroom that you may enter into the banquet hall.” The rabbis saw our lives here on earth as preparation for the goodness and holiness and yes glory of the olam ha-bah—the world to come. And so the mitzvot we do here purify our souls for the next world, which they didn’t define so well. But unlike other religious traditions who emphasize the next world and the next life over and above this life, Judaism has always been grounded in life—chayim – life in this world. This is illustrated by Talmud (Avot de Rabbi Natan, ch. 31) That new life is so important that if you are engaged in the act of planting a new tree and you are told that the Messiah had come, first plant the tree then go out to greet the Messiah. This teaches us that life on this earth is even more important than greeting the Messiah who will bring the world to come—the Olam Habah to us. Chayim-life -this life is the main emphasis in our tradition. Even as the rabbis recognized the inevitability of death for everyone.
Thus while hoping in the world to come, as Jews, we don’t over emphasize it. Life matters and how we live life is one of the most important principles of Judaism Through our acts of lovingkindness, justice, equality, compassion, love, and blessing, through our observance of our responsibilities as Jews, we make this world a more perfect place. Even our observance of this Yizkor service, and our recitation of Kaddish helps perfect the world. For our tears—humanize the world and us. Dante, writes in The Inferno, that “the punishment of the dammed is the inability to cry.” But our tears and our prayers remind us of our vulnerability and remind us of our need for God and each other to turn to in times of tzoris, of difficulty. The Talmud teaches (Baba Metzia 59B): "Even when all the gates are closed, the gates of tears remain forever open." These are the gates of heavens and repentance. Our memories of our loved ones this Yizkor service and the tears we shed for them—keep the gate open for us.
So today—as we prepare our hearts for Kaddish. We remember our loved ones, pray for their souls and ours. And we shall remember to recite Kaddish now and throughout the year. Because our Kaddish prayer keeps us connected to our loved ones though they reside now in the world to come. The kaddish prayer helps us communicate with them. The Kaddish prayer paints a vision of a time when the olam ha-bah—the glory, beauty, holiness of the world to come will merge with the olam hazeh—this world and we will all be able to taste of a world perfected and redeemed; a world that is healed of its pain and trouble. The Kaddish paints the true hope of the Jewish people; of the world truly at peace—peace from above—and in our hearts.
May our kaddish prayer this afternoon—help bring peace to us, eternal peace to those who have died, but ultimately peace to the whole world.
Ken yehi Ratzon.
Posted by Lee at October 16, 2005 10:53 AM
