One voice: saying kaddish together

There are two experiences of saying kaddish: by yourself or with others. Saying kaddish by yourself is a moving and deeply personal experience, though a lonely one. I wrote about the experience of the solo kaddish when I blogged after my death of my mother, z'l: Solo kaddish, Solo kaddish revisited)

Saying kaddish with others is more comforting. This time around, I am "privileged" to be saying kaddish with a number of other mourners, men and women. At the shul (synagogue) where I go for the morning minyan (prayer service), there are--at present--four men saying kaddish (one recently "dropped out," having completed his 11 months).

However, the comfort that comes from saying kaddish with others only works when people are reciting it together. Kaddish said at different speeds results in a cacophony of voices and leaves me feeling frustrated and unsatisfied.

To achieve a kaddish where multiple voices are in unison requires speaking and listening at the same time. You have to be not so self-absorbed that you disregard the kaddish of others. Also, you have to be considerate of those whose Hebrew--actually Aramaic--is not as good as yours. The only way that kaddish can be recited in unison is for everyone to go as slow as the slowest person. Going slow also helps to ensure that you are not just reciting in a rote way but rather thinking about the meaning of the words as well as your act of remembering and honoring the person for whom you are saying kaddish.

An interesting minhag (custom) has developed at one of the shuls where I pray. When kaddish is about to be recited, all the mourners gather in one space to say kaddish together. The physical proximity helps us to hear each other's voices and makes it is easier to recite kaddish in unison. It also lends a feeling that all of us are in it together, fellow travelers through the same journey of loss and remembrance.

The Chabad web site has an interesting article entitled "8 Tips for Smooth Kaddish Saying." It notes that "the main point of the exercise . . . is not to say the kaddish, but that everyone should answer. (The congregation responds to kaddish by saying Amen and also, at the appropriate point:

 It's hard to answer ten geese all on different tracks. So getting everyone in sync is of key importance." The article suggests that the mourners line up together and say kaddish loud enough so that others who might be inclined to go faster will slow down. "Never be embarrassed," the article concludes, "that you're going too slow. It's a house of prayer, not a racetrack."

This custom of gathering together to say kaddish takes on an added dimension on the sabbath when the prayer service takes place in the main sanctuary. Hundred of people are present. The mourners make their way to the front of the sanctuary and stand next to where the shaliach tzibur (prayer leader) is. From this space, they recite kaddish together. I feel even more self-conscious than usual. Everyone there can see you and identify you as a mourner. There is no anonymity, no hiding out in the back. We are literally put on the spot with a sense of obligation, even pressure, to make our kaddishes audible and in sync.

In a way, this custom makes sense. For those brief moments of kaddish, the mourners literally take front and center stage. It also confirms their role within the prayer service, namely that in saying kaddish, they act as de facto prayer leaders.

On a recent Friday night, myself and the other mourners came to the front of the shul to say kaddish. Afterwards, one of the other mourners with whom I pray and recite kaddish every morning, shook my hand and nodded in approval. All of us had stayed on an even pace and in unison throughout all the kaddishes. Then he said to me two words that embodied the myriad of emotions he felt: "one voice."