Who Lives, Who Dies, Who tells your story?

“Who​ ​Lives,​ ​Who​ ​Dies,​ ​Who​ ​tells​ ​your​ ​story?”  

Rabbi​ ​David​ ​Locketz  

Yiscor​ ​5778​ ​–​ ​September​ ​30,​ ​2017  

My daughter Emma came downstairs a couple of weeks ago and declared, “You should use the last song on the Hamilton soundtrack for a sermon.” We have been listening to the soundtrack a few times a week for almost two years, but I couldn’t place the song and stared blankly back. To which she said “You know…’Who lives, Who dies, Who tells your story?’” 

And she was right because that is the High Holidays in a nutshell. And Yiscor…what we have come together for this afternoon is the “Who tells your story” part. 

We just heard the words of El Malei Rachamim…our plea for God’s compassion on the souls of our loved ones who have gone before us. In a few minutes we’ll join together in the words of Mourner’s Kaddish. And when we recite those words together we will thank God for life, while never explicitly mentioning death…though we’ll for certain be thinking about those who have died and whom we miss so dearly. 

We the living, we stand here in order to recall their stories. That is what yiscor is…it literally means, “He will remember.” Those who touched us in life…and perhaps those of generations past who we never even met…we say these words in order to tell their stories. 

A couple of years ago, I heard a talk by Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz in which he described what he felt five different deaths each person experiences when they leave this world. 

I am not certain I agree with his generalization of the first three stages because each person has a different journey. The first death in his list of stages is when a person has accepted their life is coming to an end either because of age or illness. The second is the moment of medical death…when someone is pronounced deceased. 

And the third death he describes is when the casket is lowered into a grave and the loved ones of the deceased go through the rituals of grieving. As I said, I think these are generalizations that might not parallel each person’s journey. But I was really struck by his 4th and 5th stages, or levels of death. 

The 4th stage as Rabbi Yanklowitz described it, is the last time someone’s name is uttered. Think about that for a moment. How many of your great grandparents can you recall by name? What about great-great grandparents. Those that can are often surprised by those that cannot. 

Typically there is at least one family historian in every family, in every generation. I spent a couple of years working on my family’s genealogy. I mostly have reached dead ends that will take travel or much more committed time to reach farther back into history. But in the process I recovered the name of one of my great-great-great grandfathers. My grandfather’s great grandfather. Before I found his name on a tax record from the 18th century, when had his name last been uttered? And on a trip to Chicago, I found the graves of three others whose shoulders I stand on…a great grandfather and two great-great grandparents. I stood at their graves and wondered, really not certain, when was the last time someone had said kaddish for them? Are their names ever said? Suddenly the notion that there will come a time when my name is last uttered becomes more real. Life is fleeting. 

Who will live and who will die and who will tell my story? 

The 5th death, is when the last of your influence fades from the world. We all like to think we have an impact. Some create businesses or legal practices or clinics. Others teach or cook or clean or build. We all spend our days in some way…doing something…and whether we realize it at the moment or not…what we do has an effect on the world. It is ennobling to think that our lives, both in the mundane moments, and the holy ones, have an impact. We often don’t even know how. 

But it is equally as humbling…or moreso…perhaps devastating…to think that no matter what we do…no matter how hard we work…there may come a point in the future…there will come a point in the future…when our influence will cease. That is what yiscor is. To remember. To be commanded to remember. Yanklowitz’ list of five deaths mirror what is commonly said from the bima…that our eternality is in and through the ones who we leave behind. It is through us…the living…that our loved ones live on as we utter their names and celebrate their influence. We who live…we are the ones who tell their stories. Four times a year our tradition calls upon us to remember. Sukkot, Passover, Shavuot and Yom Kippur. Many of you felt called here today to remember those whom you miss so much because their lives touched yours and they had influence on you. 

We all emanate forth from the source of life…life passed from one generation to the next…but we don’t have the names of those who created that chain. That is what the kaddish is. The Kaddish gives us words for how to give thanks for life. We know the names Abraham, Isaac and Jacob…Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel and Leah…but then there are dozens of generations few of us can give names to. When we say kaddish we give thanks for the wonder of life that has been passed through all the others. 

And so their influence hasn’t ceased. They passed a spark of life on to the next generation and the next and the next. And now we each tend that spark. Who lives, who dies, who tells your story? We can’t be certain who will tell our stories. Or if anyone even will. But we can tell the stories of those who came before us. We are commanded to. And so as we take their memories into our hearts…as we celebrate the chain of life and our place in it…let us also consider that four times a year to come together and remember…to cry…to smile…to remember something that was they taught us or gave us. And to utter their names…whether we know them or not. 

May their memories be a blessing for us and through us.