Kaddish

Anytime an atheist, agnostic, unbeliever, or one who just “plays church” challenges me about proving the existence of God, I tell such a person to just study just one three letter word, “J.E.W.”

From the first Jew, Abraham, 4,000 BC, we have a history of a people, which historically and otherwise can be studied, which is as basic in academic credibility as one can get. Most of the Bible is a history of this one race, chosen by God, its prophets, prophecies, promises, laws, a study which affects the rest of us only as we affect this one race of human beings. The entire Old Testament, the four Gospels of the New Testament, transition of the church in Acts, comes through the epistles of the apostle Paul, gentiles, the Church.

One of the most remarkable factors in the study of the Jewish religion and rituals, the Kaddish, “prayer for the dead”. From the very beginning, the Jewish death is an honored occasion. After internment, a male of the family, usually on Sabbath for one entire year, gives the Kaddish at the synagogue. Since the males and females sit separately, only recently have the women started to give such. On special days, and observances, Holocaust, etc. the prayer is given.

One of the most remarkable facts of Jewish life is the ancient necessity to honor ancestry, history, tradition, their religion, perhaps this is one of the many things that has made this people such a great nation regardless of where they are found in the world.

Death has always been a mystery to me, I understand clinical death, whether from old age, disease or accident. I have trouble understanding how indifferent those alive regard the deceased. Only one who has studied life can know the value of life, just as only one who knows God can understand God. I could not worship a God that I could fully understand, I stand in absolute amazement of God. I cannot fully understand life, I stand in absolute amazement at life.

There is nothing more helpless than standing over one who has died. Death was a liturgical mystery to me as a child, I remember my first experience with a human being, I must have been 3 or 4 years of age. I was with my mother at a graveside service, the flowers, the ministers talking was a mystery to me, it still is (giving flowers to someone at death who never received a flower while alive, a minister speaking about something which he knows nothing about).

Later, a boy in my Sunday school class's mother died, I remember we went to the house, the casket was in the hallway. He and his brothers were in the yard playing ball. Later, a black women I knew in the community died, her casket was under a tree in the yard, the house was full of people cooking and eating. In a field close by, boys were playing ball. I was seven when I remember the first relative dying, my grandmother, an outstanding woman of the community, a beautiful, large church service. Now, late in life, I think of the 53 million babies killed just since abortion, for any cause, was established by the Supreme Court in 1973. Our future warriors, taxpayers, doctors, farmers, etc. How do you reconcile those who never had a chance at life, those who lived a long, full life, those whose life was snatched away by disease or accidental tragedy?

In my lifetime, I have seen people become very blaise about death, even in their own family. Death has become so sanitized, morticians who I know, tell me that some families approach a family death as an inconvenience. One told me, often the wealthiest families, someone will call and say, “use the next-to-the-cheapest casket, we'll send some clothes to the funeral home,” never look at the deceased. The cheap casket will be covered by a church pall, brief service, private burial. I noticed that more and more families chose cremation, the Bible is silent on cremation.

In America, particularly in the South, families were expected to have a family memorial service at the deceased's place of worship. When I was young, it was rare to see a funeral at the funeral home; if a funeral was at a funeral home, it was usually someone who did not have any type church relationship. Families now have gotten so cheap, since it costs more to have a church service, much like a drive-in, fast food, “get it over with” service at the funeral homes, many times at night, to even make it too cheap for a visitation. Don't treat the dead that way, they deserve better. While alive, most were loving, contributing members of society who gave so much for families and others. Burying anyone, especially the elderly, is like burying a library. I cannot understand this recent abomination of family members feeling obligated to speak at the funeral service. If you have a pastor, former pastor, friends, use them at a time like this. Give the deceased the same elegance, obligations, considerations in death, that they deserved in life.

Older people, ones who have been to many farewell services, have probably expressed the type service they desire. You can be sure that a mother has observed how her children react to the burial of their father. Personally, I have left strict instructions to the bank trust who will be in charge, I require no services at all, I have lived my funeral oration. I will not embarrass my unconcerned family, while I was alive, to think they should be concerned at my death. I would not embarrass my country to provide military honors when my country so dishonored my military service while alive.

Fifty years ago, when I could see, when I often attended burial services in cemeteries or graveyards. I enjoyed looking at the old tombstones, family names that will come back in my memory. On every marker of every type, large or small, you have the year of birth and the year of death with a hyphen in between, it is that hyphen that counts...amazing what some accomplish in life. Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints. (Psalm 116:15)