A Non-Theist Kaddish

My mother died this year. I wanted to say something at the grave when we buried her remains. Others were already going to say the Kaddish, a Jewish prayer traditionally recited by mourners.

I was surprised when I first learned that the “Mourner’s Kaddish” says nothing about death. Its rhythmic, alliterative text in Aramaic starts by saying “Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will.”  As a humanist and atheist, I did not want to recite that. But I like the way it sounds, human voices reaching out to the universe at the moment of confronting our non-negotiable mortality. Moreover, I think what it is saying is on the right track. When the sadness of loss becomes too hard to express, an expression of gratitude encompasses both the joy and grief of existence.

Non-theists need their own expressions of gratitude: word and song that are like prayer but without prayer’s theological assumptions. On the internet I found some poetry that humanists have used for funerals. None of it was saying just what I wanted it to say, so I wrote the text myself.

The text I recited went over well among the small gathering at the funeral. Some people even joined on “amen.” A friend was puzzled by inclusion of “amen,” but it is not an intrinsically religious word. It merely signals agreement. Religious people who heard the piece told me they liked it. Though it is not theist, it is also not anti-theist; nothing in it should be particularly objectionable to people who follow traditional religions. I hope that others find it useful on similar occasions or perhaps on happier ones as well. The numbers in the second stanza refer to my mother’s lifespan; others could use different numbers as needed.  

When we arrived at the cemetery, a gentle snow was falling on us, on the grass, and on the casket. I tried to read the words in a loud, deep, slow voice, the way my recently deceased father used to declaim poetry:

May all sing the glory of the unbounded universe;
Of the endless bounded island in its midst;
Of self-unfolding mortals, given the grace to walk the land;
Of the mothers who sustain the creation that acts through them;
Of the children who roam the Earth and the children who guard the hearth.
Sing and let us say: amen.

Praise the light and praise the dark, and praise the eyes that witness both;
Praise 31,882 days and 31,881 nights;
Praise the infinite and the finite;
Praise all that they have done, all that we are doing, all that you will do;
Praise the mystery of the gifts that elude our ken, but
Share the illuminations of the gifts we understand.
Praise and let us say: amen.

May we forgive the sins of others and ask forgiveness for our own,
May we commend the triumphs and commemorate defeats
May we build when we can and help when we’re asked,
May we bear the tears for all that breaks and
May we hold fast the portrait of all that was broken.
Find strength where we can and let us say: amen.
Find strength where we can and let us say: amen.
Find strength where we can and let us say: amen.