Laws of Mourning - Rabbi Dovid Meir Drukman shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to the “Lemaan Yishme’u” podcast from Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 People generally get frightened when the Torah reading reaches the section of the rebuke. There is a rebuke in Parshas Bechukosai, and in Parshas Ki Savo. They’re afraid to be called up to the Torah then; they don’t want to stand before the Torah reader. But one of the great Torah sages said this: The verse says, “Let our lips substitute for bulls.” In other words, today, since the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, reciting the verses about the offerings and studying the offerings takes the place of bringing them. So he said that if, G-d forbid, something written in the rebuke has been decreed, we fulfill it by reciting the verses of the rebuke. We read the rebuke, we’ve fulfilled it, and from now on there will be only blessings for the Jewish people, for all of Israel. The subject I want to speak about today is, to put it gently, an unpleasant one. It has to do with mourning, funerals, and customs in a house of mourning. May it be Hashem’s will that by studying this tonight, we will have fulfilled our obligation, and that immediately, right now, the verse will be fulfilled among all the Jewish people: “He will swallow up death forever, and Hashem G-d will wipe away tears from every face.” But it is Torah, and it must be studied. I certainly don’t intend to cover the whole subject. I want to touch on a few points that, as far as I know, aren’t sufficiently well known, with particular emphasis on the customs of Anash in these matters. Especially because when something happens, when someone passes away, people naturally become overwhelmed and confused, and don’t know how to act. Again, I stress: May it be Hashem’s will that all this remain a matter for discussion and never for practice, G-d forbid. When the Frierdiker Rebbe passed away, one of the senior rabbis raised the need to send a telegram to Rostov—that is, to the resting place of the Rebbe Rashab, n”e, the Frierdiker Rebbe’s father. Even in such a case, the Rebbe must be informed first. The soul ascends Above, and the Rebbe needs to care for that chossid even in his present state. Now, it’s not

03:53 Speaker 2 uncommon for someone to pass away overseas. He passes away when, for example, it’s daytime here but still nighttime there. Overseas, where the passing occurred, the shiva of course begins after the grave is closed, after the burial. What do people do in Eretz Yisroel? Do they need to wait for the burial overseas? The answer is no. The moment they hear in Eretz Yisroel that a relative for whom they are obligated to sit shiva has passed away, they begin. They tear their garments, recite the blessing “Blessed is the true Judge” while standing, with Hashem’s name and kingship, and begin the mourning period in Eretz Yisroel. So it can happen that the mourning period in Eretz Yisroel ends before the one overseas does. But that is the Chabad custom. There is an explicit written response from the Rebbe on this point. Now, when someone passes away, even before the funeral, all the mirrors in the house must be covered. So much so that when Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka passed away, the Rebbe asked that even the mirror inside the wardrobe in the bedroom be covered. Because there may also be a mirror in a display cabinet for silverware, in a glass cabinet, as there is in many homes. It is advisable to cover that too. Halacha says that it is also proper to cover pictures in the home—photographs and paintings. This doesn’t mean landscapes, but pictures of people. It isn’t clear whether the custom applies throughout the house, but it says to cover pictures of people at least in the room where people daven, if only because one should not daven facing a picture. You may not daven facing a picture. That is the halacha all year round as well. If someone davens alone in his living room, he should take care not to daven facing an image of a person, or facing a mirror, so that it won’t appear as though he is bowing to or praying to his own image. So, as I said before, some have the custom of covering pictures throughout the house. Again, not

07:08 Speaker 2 landscapes, but pictures of people. On the other hand, pictures of tzaddikim are not covered. What is the reason? Again, the subject is a lengthy one, so I can’t go into all the reasons and all the details. Now, as is known, when someone passes away, the relatives who are obligated to mourn are called onenim until after the funeral. Broadly speaking, they don’t perform mitzvos. More than that, they are not permitted to perform mitzvos. They may not daven or put on tefillin, unless there is an exceptional situation in which all the funeral arrangements have already been handed over to the chevra kadisha and the mourner no longer has any concerns or responsibilities in the matter. That is a different case. But in most cases, a son, daughter, and so on have concerns connected with the funeral and its arrangements. In such a case, out of respect for the deceased, they may not daven or recite blessings. For example, someone coming out of the bathroom may not recite Asher Yatzar. So what about saying Kaddish? We said he may not daven, but he wants to go into shul and say Kaddish. According to many halachic authorities, because he is an onen, he does not say Kaddish. But according to the Alter Rebbe, even an onen—I don’t know whether he is obligated, but he may say Kaddish. That is, he may come to shul and say Kaddish. Or, for example, if the passing took place on Shabbos: On Shabbos the restrictions of aninus do not apply, so until Motzaei Shabbos the person still davens in shul. May he already say Kaddish for his relative, before the funeral? The answer is yes. He may say Kaddish before the funeral, in accordance with the Alter Rebbe’s ruling. We said earlier that until the burial, a person has the status of an onen, does not perform mitzvos, and generally may not put on tefillin. But after the grave is closed, he would seemingly need to put on tefillin. Yet he does not.

10:03 Speaker 2 Halacha says that tefillin are not worn on the first day. That is the halacha. But here comes an important qualification: According to Kabbalah, one puts on both Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam tefillin discreetly even on the first day. So, for example, if the cemetery is some distance away and it will already be sunset by the time the mourner gets home, the friends should remember to bring tefillin to the funeral. That way, after the grave is closed, the mourners will still have time to put on tefillin—again, discreetly. They don’t do it in front of everyone, because according to the revealed dimension of Torah, tefillin are not worn. So don’t be surprised if you see people who don’t put on tefillin. That is in accordance with halacha, with the revealed dimension of Torah. According to the hidden dimension, one does put on tefillin. We haven’t covered the whole subject: Does one need to make up the davening? Does one need to say the morning blessings? It’s a lengthy subject, and I won’t address it now, because it isn’t specific to Chabad customs. We’re trying to focus more on the customs of Anash in all these matters. People generally get frightened when the Torah reading reaches the section of the rebuke. There is a rebuke in Parshas Bechukosai and in Parshas Ki Savo. They’re afraid to be called up to the Torah then; they don’t want to stand before the Torah reader. But one of the great Torah sages said this: The verse says, “Let our lips substitute for bulls.” In other words, today, since the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, reciting the verses about the offerings and studying the offerings takes the place of bringing them. So he said that if, G-d forbid, something written in the rebuke has been decreed, we fulfill it by reciting the verses of the rebuke. We read the rebuke, we’ve fulfilled it, and from now on there will be only blessings for the Jewish people, for all of Israel. The subject I want to speak about today is, to put it gently, an unpleasant one. It has to do with mourning,

13:08 Speaker 2 For funerals and customs in a house of mourning. May it be Hashem’s will that what we learn about this tonight remain only theoretical, and that immediately, right now, the words “He will swallow up death forever, and Hashem G-d will wipe away tears from every face” be fulfilled for all the Jewish people, including us. But this is Torah, and it must be studied. I certainly do not intend to cover the entire subject. I want to touch on a few points that, as far as I know, are not sufficiently familiar, with particular emphasis on the customs of our Chabad community. Especially because when something happens, when someone passes away, people naturally become overwhelmed and confused and do not know how to act. Again, I stress: may all this be for discussion only, never for practice, G-d forbid. Now, when going to a funeral, it is not only the relatives who need to remember to cover their tzitzis. It is not only at a funeral; the same applies when entering a cemetery. I often see photographs of people visiting a grave on a yahrtzeit, and you can see people standing there with their tzitzis showing beneath their coats. That is not appropriate. There is a halachah that says that if someone walks through a cemetery with his tzitzis showing, it is called “mocking the poor.” What does that mean? The deceased can no longer fulfill mitzvos, so in that respect the deceased is poor. And you come with your tzitzis showing? You are mocking the deceased in his poverty. The halachic authorities ask what the law would be at a woman’s funeral or grave, since she is exempt from the mitzvah of tzitzis. They say that even at a woman’s funeral, the tzitzis must be covered. Remember that. I often see Jews going to a funeral and hurrying to put a gartel around their waists. I want to tell you: there were periods when the Rebbe went out to all the funerals, and I was there at the time. The Rebbe did not wear a gartel at funerals. At Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka’s funeral, he

16:17 Speaker 2 did wear—he did wear a gartel. That is different. Since one of a husband’s obligations is to bury his wife, he is fulfilling a mitzvah. I was not at the funeral of Rebbetzin Chana or Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka. The Rebbe also wore an overcoat then, but for ordinary funerals the Rebbe went out without an overcoat and expressly did not wear a gartel—unless someone is accompanying his father, mother, or wife. Again, may we be spared such things. Yes. Then he is fulfilling the mitzvah of honoring his father or mother, or a husband’s obligation toward his wife, so he wears a gartel. But at other funerals, I repeat, I saw that the Rebbe did not wear a gartel. In general, one must understand that in all these matters there is no single Chabad custom that applies absolutely and across the board. One must always take local customs into account. I remember hearing from Reb Leibel Groner that when he brought his father, Reb Mordechai Groner, to his final resting place on the Mount of Olives, he asked the Rebbe how to conduct himself regarding the various customs. The Rebbe told him to follow the practice of the chevra kadisha in Jerusalem. This establishes a general principle: in each place, follow the local customs. If someone attends a Sephardic funeral, he should not separate himself from the community, but should act as the Sephardim do. We will touch on other customs in a moment. Now, during a funeral, first of all, the seforim say that one must be very careful not to engage in idle talk. That is not respectful to the deceased. While accompanying the deceased, if it is a man, one says “Yosheiv Beseiser,” Psalm 91 in Tehillim. How many times? You say it again and again and again and again. I did not see the Rebbe holding a siddur while accompanying the deceased in a funeral procession, unless someone does not know it by heart. But the custom is to say “Yosheiv Beseiser” several times: finish it once, then say it again. At a woman’s funeral,

18:52 Speaker 2 one says “Eishes Chayil.” Now, regarding what is called “Keil Malei Rachamim”: the Sephardim have a text called hashkavah, one for a man and one for a woman. Some chevra kadisha societies recite the Keil Malei Rachamim prayer. As I said, one must follow local custom. To the best of our knowledge, the Chabad custom is not to say Keil Malei Rachamim, even though it is printed in the siddur. That is also the custom of the chareidi chevra kadisha societies in Jerusalem. The Chassidic communities there do not say Keil Malei Rachamim. And, if I am not mistaken, that is also the practice of the Agudas Chassidei Chabad chevra kadisha in Crown Heights, at Montefiore Cemetery: they do not say Keil Malei Rachamim. But among those who do say Keil Malei Rachamim, there are differing opinions about whether to say “grant a fitting rest upon the wings of the Shechinah” or “grant a fitting rest beneath the wings of the Shechinah.” Seder Tefillos Hashanah prints “upon the wings of the Shechinah.” That appears to follow the opinion of the holy Shelah, who strongly objects to the wording “beneath the wings of the Shechinah.” On the other hand, in Shaar Hakollel, the Rebbe’s grandfather, Rabbi Avraham Dovid Lavut, defends the wording “beneath the wings of the Shechinah.” We are not here to decide between them. I merely note that the printed Seder Tefillos Hashanah says “upon the wings of the Shechinah.” Incidentally, speaking of Keil Malei Rachamim, there are communities that hold a memorial for the deceased every Shabbos and say it either at Minchah or after the Torah reading, or even during the week on someone’s yahrtzeit. There was once an unusual instance of this in the Rebbe’s conduct. It was in 5717. Around that time, the Rebbe’s uncle, the brother of Rebbetzin Nechama Dina, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, passed away in Tel Aviv. After the Torah reading, the Rebbe said Half Kaddish for his uncle and instructed that Keil Malei Rachamim be said. Yes, but that was a one-time occurrence, and we did not see

21:57 Speaker 2 another instance in which Keil Malei Rachamim was said in the Rebbe’s presence. Yes, an important point: descendants do not walk behind the deceased’s bier. In Jerusalem—and there is a whole letter from the Rebbe on this subject—they used to announce, with a warning of excommunication, G-d forbid, that sons must not walk behind the deceased. Therefore, in Jerusalem the sons do not even go up to the cemetery. Say the funeral is at Shamgar or Sanhedria, yes? The sons say Kaddish, and that is it; they do not go to the cemetery. In Chabad they do go to the cemetery, but the sons, too, stand aside—the sons travel there ahead of time. They do not even drive behind the chevra kadisha’s ambulance. They stand aside and approach the grave after the burial to say Kaddish. What is distinctive about Chabad is that this applies not only to sons but also to daughters, and not only following a father, as is customary in Jerusalem and among Sephardim, but also following a mother or grandmother. It is not just the sons; it is all the descendants. As far as I know, this is practiced only in Chabad. Since mourners are generally confused, someone present who knows the halachah should guide them so that things are done properly. It should be noted that the Rebbe Rashab himself walked behind the bier at the funeral of his mother, Rebbetzin Rivkah. But one cannot draw a precedent from tzaddikim. That should suffice for those who understand; we will not go into the details of why descendants—why tzaddikim can walk behind the bier after the passing of their parents. We find, too, that when Yaakov Avinu passed away, his sons accompanied him. One important thing to remember is that at a funeral there must be complete separation between men and women. In one respect, this is even more stringent than during prayers in shul. I also saw in one of the diaries that at the funeral of the righteous Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka, the Rebbe’s wife, the chevra kadisha arranged for the Rebbe to accompany the coffin along President Street as far as Kingston, with the men accompanying the deceased along that route as well, while the women would go via Brooklyn Avenue and from there to Eastern Parkway. I

25:11 Speaker 2 I don’t remember where I saw this, but if my memory serves me right, there was once a funeral where the women were within sight, on the horizon, and the Rebbe commented on it. This goes so far that the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch, in the laws of safeguarding body and soul, says that one must not stand in front of the women as they return from accompanying the deceased, because the Angel of Death dances before them and has permission to cause harm. That is, because of the encounter between men and women, he ascends and accuses—like the word Satan—and descends and takes a soul. And likewise when they walk behind the deceased: not only when returning from the burial, from the funeral, but also when following the deceased, a man must not meet them face-to-face. In other words, there should be no eye contact; he should walk either behind them or ahead of them. And on his way back—on his way back, he should take a different route so that he does not encounter them, and so on. In any event, we see how careful we need to be about keeping men and women from mingling. I remember that at the funeral of the rabbi of Bnei Brak, Yankel Landau, they announced over the loudspeakers that women should not accompany the funeral at all. I don’t think that is the common practice—having women not accompany it at all—but care must be taken that the women walk on a separate route behind the men, so that there is no eye contact. It follows, of course, that the deplorable practice of women giving eulogies is far removed from Jewish custom and contrary to it. Naturally, when a woman gives a eulogy, people look at her. That is aside from the aspect of following the ways of the nations. Women giving eulogies is not something accepted among faithful Jews. We mentioned the complete separation between men and women. In some communities women do not accompany funerals at all, and we mentioned Rabbi Landau’s funeral. In Jerusalem, for example, women do not go along with the funeral procession to Har Hazeisim or Har Hamenuchos at all. We do not have that custom. But as I mentioned earlier, the women need to stand entirely to the side

28:22 Speaker 2 and after the burial, once the men have left the area, the women can approach the grave. As I said, we need to be very, very careful about this. It often happens that one attends the funeral of people who are not observant, or of a modern community, where men and women mingle, G-d forbid. So a G-d-fearing Jew should find a suitable place in the procession, tactfully, so that he does not walk behind the women. At funerals like that, for example, I move forward and carry the bier, and that way I never end up walking behind women at a funeral. Each person should act with foresight and wisdom so as not to encounter this problem at the burial. This is not specifically a Chabad custom, but we need to remember that during the burial, one may not pass the mara and chatzina, in the words of our Sages—the hoe or the shovel—from hand to hand. A few customs with a Chabad aspect at a funeral: before the grave is covered—and I have seen customs where this is done after the taharah or during the taharah; I don’t remember exactly—they say to the deceased, “Present yourself to the Rebbe.” I know that at Rabbi Zislin’s funeral, for example, Rabbi Landau, the rabbi of Bnei Brak, said it once. Afterward they asked Reb Sholom Chaim Kesselman, the mashpia, to say it. Usually, when asking someone to present himself to the Rebbe, they say the deceased person’s name: “Moishe Yankel, present yourself to the Rebbe.” So they asked Reb Sholom Chaim to say it to Rabbi Zislin, whose name was Reb Shaul Dovber Zislin. Reb Sholom Chaim said he could not say his name. You see, Rabbi Zislin had been Reb Sholom Chaim’s mashpia in Orsha. Reb Sholom Chaim said, “I never called him by his name.” That also shows the respect chassidim had for elder chassidim. He was an older chossid. It is the opposite of today’s habits. Another matter is burial in a coffin.

31:08 Speaker 2 That is done outside Eretz Yisroel, and even there it is not really a coffin: they remove the bottom plank. In Eretz Yisroel, people are not buried in coffins, but unfortunately, Reform or pro-Reform people on kibbutzim and in open cemeteries do bury people in coffins. In Eretz Yisroel, people are not buried in coffins. Placing wreaths on a grave, too, follows the ways of the nations. Again, if someone comes to a funeral where people are doing that and cannot politely persuade them not to, then he closes his eyes to it. But G-d forbid that faithful Jews should do it to begin with. Now, something interesting: the well-known chossid and mashpia Reb Peretz Mochkin, who was a member of the chevra kadisha of Agudas Chassidei Chabad, related that the custom is to say to the deceased at the burial, “We release you from every association whatsoever.” That is also for the sake of the living, so that there is no connection to the deceased. And while we are mentioning Reb Peretz’s guidance, he said something else. He said that one tells the deceased, “Remember that you have passed away.” In other words, as they say, we want to part ways with you; we do not want to have dealings with you. We want to live long and good years. As for eulogies, it is well known that the Chabad custom is not to give them. For some reason, lately that practice has begun to fall by the wayside. There is a reason for the custom, a simple reason. Sometimes an upright, decent, G-d-fearing person passes away, and people say words of praise about him—praise he deserves. But sometimes someone passes away and there is nothing to say about him. As they say, the only thing you can say about him is that his father was worse. So, to avoid treating him differently, they heap all sorts of praise on this deceased person too, things that never happened. How does the joke go? Someone was once standing and eulogizing the deceased, and the deceased man’s wife approached the speaker and said, “There must be a mistake. That’s not my husband. I don’t know him as the person you’re describing.” Now, what happens? Let me tell you a story.

34:01 Speaker 2 I’m skipping ahead to another topic now. It has to do with gravestones. On gravestones, too, people start recounting things that did or did not happen, and so on. In the well-known chassidic city of Homel, where the great Reb Yitzchak of Homel lived, the custom was for the chevra kadisha to go into the cemetery on Lag BaOmer and make a kind of inspection tour, to see what needed fixing at the graves and so on. They relate that on Lag BaOmer, Reb Yitzchak of Homel told his attendant, “Come with me, and bring an axe.” The attendant did not understand what the axe was for. In short, the rabbi went over to a gravestone and told the attendant to take the axe and erase the honorifics written on it. Well, when the rabbi says something, you do what he says. Afterward, Reb Yitzchak remarked, “I did the deceased a great favor.” Why was that? He said that in Heaven, they demand that the deceased show whether what is written on the gravestone was really true of him, whether that was how things actually were. When you look at old gravestones, you really do not see such a flood of honorifics. That is also why Chabad does not give eulogies: people start going overboard and pouring out praise. Unless a shliach comes to a place where eulogies are going to be given anyway, and the funeral is an opportunity to say words that stir people to greater fear of Heaven—that is different. But even then it needs to be done in moderation, because our Sages did not say for nothing that eulogizers are called to account. Sometimes you say too little, and that too is an affront to the deceased’s honor. And if you exaggerate, you certainly are not doing the deceased any favors. After a funeral, we wash our hands. According to the basic law, rinsing your hands from a tap is enough; you do not need a cup. I mention this because it often happens that there is no cup at a cemetery and people think it is the end of the world. In the meantime, you can wash your hands that way. Now, with the Rebbe, we saw that after a funeral

36:50 Speaker 2 The Rebbe generally did not travel all the way to the cemetery. He would walk to the corner of Eastern Parkway and Kingston and follow the funeral procession with his holy eyes until the coffin disappeared from view. Then, outside, they had prepared a bowl and a cup for the Rebbe on a bench, and the Rebbe washed his hands. Here, too, there were various customs. One washes six times, alternating hands, as in the morning. Sometimes the Rebbe washed more times; I don’t know the reason for that. It varied from one occasion to another. The halachic books say to place the cup upside down, but I saw the Rebbe place it on its side. There is also a custom—not that I saw this with the Rebbe—not to pass the cup from one hand to the other. Afterward—oh, this is something I saw at many funerals. Again, I say this in the hope that He Who has not yet said “Enough” to His world will say “Enough” to our troubles, that there will be no more funerals and there will be eternal life. But we will fulfill our obligation by stating the halachah. After a funeral, as it says in the Rema, one does not go straight home. We saw that the Rebbe went into the small zal upstairs. Again, the handwashing took place right outside. He went into the small zal upstairs, and then Psalm 91 is recited again. I said Psalm 91; it begins with the verse “He who dwells in the shelter.” But Darkei Chesed, a book of Chabad customs concerning mourning written by Rabbi Ushpal[unclear]—a Chabad rabbi who, as it says there, was rabbi of the Lubavitch community in Brooklyn and a rabbi at the Tomchei Temimim Lubavitch yeshivah—is a book published by the chevra kadisha of Agudas Chassidei Chabad. He writes that one begins with “May the pleasantness.” That is, with the final verse of Psalm 90, “May the pleasantness of Hashem our G-d be upon us,” and then “He who dwells in the shelter.” Now this psalm is recited seven times, but not the entire psalm. In the course of the psalm there is a verse containing seven words.

39:28 Speaker 2 Seven words: “For He will command His angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways.” So you recite the psalm once up to the word “for.” Then you go back, repeat “May the pleasantness,” and recite it a second time up to the word “His angels.” You go back a third time and recite it up to the word “command.” Now, each time you say it in a different place. That is, up to “for” in one place, the second time up to “His angels” in a second place, the third time up to “command” in a third place, and so on, in seven places. I saw the Rebbe do this on the same bench, shifting to seven different spots. We used to know that one would actually move from place to place. The Rebbe remained at one bench and did it seven times. Incidentally, the Rebbe recited it very quickly. We said that the Rebbe washed his hands outside, outside 770. On a related note, I want to mention that when the Rebbe returned from the Ohel, he washed his hands again before entering his room. But on the other hand, he did not wash them outside. Where did he wash them? Anyone familiar with the layout of the upper floor of 770—and we all are—knows that at the end of the hallway, on the right, there is a sink and faucet. To help identify it, it is opposite the room of Reb Chaim Boruch Halberstam, may he live and be well. The Rebbe would wash his hands there. And here, too, just as after a funeral—this is the halachah according to most authorities, and the custom in most communities—one does not dry one’s hands after washing. So the Rebbe, too, would wash his hands after being at the cemetery. I just want to point out that washing one’s hands after visiting a gravesite is not because of the gravesite. When one visits the resting place of a tzaddik, one does not need to wash one’s hands.

41:52 Speaker 2 For example, when people visit the resting place of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, they do not wash their hands. The reason one washes in other cases is that, on the way to the gravesite, one also passes through a cemetery. So one washes one’s hands, but visiting the gravesite itself does not require it. Just a small point. It is also important to know that the mourners’ gathering should have separate seating for men and women—if it is practically possible, they should be in two separate rooms altogether. There is also support for this in the revealed teachings of Torah: “And the land shall mourn, family by family.” At eulogies and during mourning, care must be taken to keep men and women separate. I know there are cases involving families of baalei teshuvah where the family does not want to accept this. Each person should consult a rabbi and a mashpia about how to act in a way that will not provoke arguments and conflict. One must be very, very careful about disputes where the harm caused by the dispute outweighs any benefit. Regarding mourning clothes, I just wanted to point out something distinctive that we saw with the Rebbe. Generally, the common custom is that on Motzaei Shabbos during the week of mourning, before Maariv, the mourner goes into another room and changes from Shabbos clothes into weekday clothes, particularly into the torn garment. That is because the halachah is that, for example, a son who tears his garment at his father’s funeral must wear that torn garment throughout the seven days of mourning. Even if he wants to change garments, he has to tear the other one as well. This applies specifically to parents. Usually, on Motzaei Shabbos, the mourner would go into another room, take off his silk sirtuk—or his shtreimel, if he wears one on Shabbos, and so on—and change into weekday clothes. But with the Rebbe, we saw otherwise. After Maariv, the Rebbe went into his room and changed only his leather shoes for rubber shoes. He remained in his Shabbos sirtuk, and that was how people offered him condolences. Of course, afterward

44:11 Speaker 2 he changed into weekday clothes, but not immediately—not for the condolences offered right after Maariv. In any event, the Rebbe did not change out of his Shabbos sirtuk. When is the gravestone put in place? There are letters from the Rebbe to various Jews, not necessarily members of Anash. Some have the custom of doing it only after a year, some after thirty days, and some on the seventh day. But the Rebbe’s later position, based on what is written in the works of the hidden teachings of Torah, was that the gravestone should be put in place specifically on the eighth day, with care taken that it be neither a day earlier nor a day later. I know this puts families under pressure. They say to me: “The gravestone has to be made on the eighth day, not before or after. We have to prepare the wording, and so on and so forth.” So what do you do? You should know this: the essential part of a gravestone is the concrete foundation. The stone and its inscription are not urgent. On the morning of the eighth day, the gravestone maker pours the concrete. Later, when he is available, the stone with the inscription is installed. Now, regarding the wording on the gravestone: first of all, something that should go without saying—one does not write a civil-calendar date, and, Heaven forbid, one does not put a picture of the deceased on it. Heaven forbid. I mention a civil-calendar date because I want to draw attention to the fact that in Russia there are gravestones of very, very good Jews whose children, unfortunately, were no longer like their parents. Some of the descendants were ignorant, and they put the civil-calendar date on the gravestone. I think it would be a kindness to the deceased if someone were to come to those gravestones—as in the story I told earlier about Reb Isaac Holler[unclear]—with an axe, though not necessarily an axe, and obscure the civil-calendar date, because the deceased would not want it there. Now the Rebbe instructs us, suggests—instructs us—to write on the gravestone also the connection

46:53 Speaker 2 the Rebbes, or at least his connection to Chabad. Write that he was a Chabad chossid, or mention that he was connected to the Rebbe. If he was a chossid of an earlier generation, mention the previous Rebbe as well. Then, when someone comes to the grave and reads the inscription, that itself invokes the merit of the Rebbe on behalf of the deceased. Now, another interesting instruction from the Rebbe: Don’t write on the gravestone in the first person—“the crown of our heads,” “the head of our family,” “our father.” No, write in the third person. That is an instruction from the Rebbe. What name do you put on the gravestone: the father’s or the mother’s? Generally, the custom is to write the father’s name. But I also saw a letter from the Rebbe somewhere saying that if someone specifically wants to, they can include the mother’s name too. All the more so in cases where, for example, the mother perished in the Holocaust, G-d forbid, or in Russia, in Siberia, and the place of her burial is unknown. In any case, including both the father’s and mother’s names is not something to wonder at. The simple rule is to write the father’s name. I think that on Rabbi Landau’s gravestone it gives his father’s name and says “born to”—his mother’s name—or something similar. I don’t remember exactly. His mother’s name is mentioned too. Yes, we are very careful not to use raised lettering on a gravestone. This is written about. The Gemara says that reading raised writing on a gravestone is detrimental to one’s memory. The halachic authorities also write that if someone did read raised writing on a gravestone, a segulah to prevent it from harming his memory is to recite Ahavas Olam—Ahavah Rabbah, Ahavas Olam. There is that whole passage in the prayers, almost to the end. I want to point out that, remarkably, many gravestones in old cemeteries in Europe, even those of great Torah scholars—even the gravestone of the Maharal of Prague—have raised lettering. But for us,

49:13 Speaker 2 we follow only the words of our teachers: the words of our Rebbe and the Rebbe, that raised lettering is not used on a gravestone. Now, many ask whether one visits the grave on the seventh day. It’s true, and well known, that in Crown Heights they don’t. But in Eretz Yisroel, from what I know in Kfar Chabad and Jerusalem, people generally do visit the grave on the seventh day. It isn’t universal: even among Ashkenazi communities, some do and some don’t. But first of all, there is no emphatic “no” here. In Kfar Chabad, I’ve seen that people always went. That’s how it was. I remember that when Rabbi Chaim Kesselman passed away, and when other prominent Jews in Kfar Chabad passed away, people went. But as we said, these customs too, as the Rebbe told Leibel Groner, depend very much on local custom. A custom in one place does not obligate another place. Now, when it comes to visiting a grave, one should also know that you don’t go every other day. In general, it is written that kelipos dwell in cemeteries, so you don’t just go to cemeteries for no reason—for all sorts of tours or outings, or because someone has too much difficulty letting go of the deceased and runs to the cemetery every other day. That is not the way. One should not grieve excessively over the deceased. In general, the Ashkenazi custom, and our custom too, is not to visit the grave during the first year, except, as we said, on the seventh day, the thirtieth day, and the yahrzeit. During the first year, the deceased is very preoccupied with the judgment he is undergoing. That is why his descendants say Kaddish: to help him, to bring him merit, so that the judgment will be more lenient. So we don’t burden him with requests. But when we do visit, what do we do? What do we say? First of all, there are small booklets sold in stores that carry sefarim, called Ner Neshamah. And recently, a book called Minhagei Yahrzeit was published by us. It contains everything in those booklets according to general Ashkenazi custom,

51:38 Speaker 2 and you say everything written in that book: all the chapters of Tehillim listed there, in order, one after another. Not selected chapters, but what is written there. This was established by earlier authorities. You also say the verses in Psalm 119 corresponding to the deceased’s name. Say his name was Zalman, right? Then you say all the verses for the letters zayin, lamed, mem, and final nun. You don’t mention the father’s name, only the person’s first name. After that, you say the verses for the letters of neshamah from Psalm 119. That also appears in those booklets. Now, at the end of the chapters of Tehillim, all these booklets have a prayer: “Please, Hashem, full of mercy, have compassion and pity on the soul of so-and-so.” According to Chabad custom, we don’t say it. Yes, it isn’t the end of the world if someone does, but we don’t say it. There is another halachah connected to Chabad custom. Usually, at the entrance to a cemetery, there is a sign with a blessing: “Blessed are You, Hashem, our G-d, King of the universe, Who formed you in judgment and established you in judgment.” Someone who has not been to a cemetery for thirty days says this blessing. Other halachic authorities say that even if you were at another cemetery—say you were at Har Hamenuchos two weeks ago, and now you come to Har Hazeisim, where you haven’t been for thirty days—you say the blessing. But according to the Alter Rebbe, that is not so. According to the Alter Rebbe, if you have been to any cemetery anywhere in the world during the past month, you don’t say the blessing. Now, what if a mourner himself comes to his father’s funeral, for example, or his brother’s, G-d forbid? He has not been to any cemetery for thirty days. Does he say the blessing? The answer is no, because he is an onen. Now the question is: after the burial is complete, can he say the blessing that he did not say earlier? The answer is that he no longer says it.

54:06 Speaker 2 Now, there is a widespread custom—thank G-d, we were talking about joyous occasions until now. All the laws of mourning are called Maseches Semachos, “Tractate of Joyous Occasions,” by our Sages, euphemistically. But there are joyous occasions without quotation marks too: weddings and so on. The usual custom is to come to the graves of grandparents and parents and invite them to a wedding. Recently I’ve even seen people place the wedding invitation on the grave. I don’t know the source for that, but we, the Jewish people, are indeed accustomed to visit the graves of our ancestors before their descendants’ weddings. May Hakadosh Boruch Hu help us, and let us conclude as we began: may death truly be swallowed up forever, and may the promise “Those who dwell in the dust will awaken and sing” be fulfilled, with our holy Rebbes at their head and all our loved ones. With the coming of Menachem to Zion, may He comfort us with the consolation of Zion and Jerusalem, and may our eyes see it and rejoice. And again, as I said at the beginning, may everything we have discussed remain only a matter of studying the halachos; may we, G-d forbid, never need to put them into practice. And may we all merit to see the Rebbe’s promise of eternal life, souls in bodies, in actual reality.