It is considered a sacred duty and a great kindness to be a part of the Chevra Kadisha, and it is an honor to be included in this group of dedicated volunteers.
Fresh snow covers the ground, thinking I’m too young to know. On the other side of the pit four Russians dressed like railroad or construction workers look me up and down. I try not to look back.
Judaism's position on cremation touches on some of its most basic and principal beliefs. This article offers a detailed explanation reagrding the origins of this prohibitions, as well as the implications of such an act.
My hope is that this
letter, an artifice to ease my double grief over your death and cremation, will
reach other Jews in the same plight, children and parents.
My grandmother recently revealed that she intends to be cremated. This disturbed me, as I know Judaism doesn't allow cremations, but I'm not sure why. What should I tell her?
She was so beautiful as she lay there on her back, perfectly still. I cradled her head in my arms as we washed her face. Her skin was smooth and her limbs remarkably flexible . . .
Imagine for just one horrible moment that you have died. Your soul is hovering over your body, and you are frightened and confused. “What is going on? Am I dead? What happens now...?”
As I walked behind the hearse, I thought about what we had done. I have been to funerals and been among the mourners, where everyone focuses on dealing with the living. Having now participated with those who focus on the dead, I have a new perspective
When someone passes on, it is a tragedy. They have been lost to their family and friends, and there is a feeling of separation and distance that seems beyond repair.
We were a group of five women, eager to fulfill this mitzvah. This was my first time and I was a tad anxious. But this was something I had wanted to volunteer for, so I came with a positive attitude.
I know that sincere prayer is effective anywhere, even in one's living room. So why am I here in Rostov, Russia, the resting place of Rabbi Shalom DovBer of Lubavitch, as I write these words?
All I could think of in that funeral home was how my father had given so very much to me, and in my deep sadness, with his coffin a few feet away, I struggled to figure out what I had given him in return.