May we never need this knowledge—but let us begin.
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Shiva – The Seven Days
The word shiva comes from the Hebrew number seven—the seven days that close relatives (father, mother, son, daughter, spouse, brother, sister) traditionally observe after the funeral. It is important to note that the detailed laws of mourning are not explicit commandments in the Torah, but rather long-standing rabbinic traditions and customs that developed over generations.
Traditional Judaism teaches that while the body dies, the soul continues to live in the World to Come. We say:
“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
This phrase reflects the belief that our soul was entrusted to us as a deposit, and at death we return it to its Owner—God.
The custom of seven days of mourning is often linked to the verse:
“And he made a mourning for his father seven days” (Genesis 50:10).
Jewish tradition emphasizes two central principles at the time of death: honoring the deceased and burying the person as quickly as possible. In some ultra-Orthodox communities in Jerusalem, funerals take place very quickly—even late at night. Funerals are not held on Shabbat or Jewish holidays. A one-day delay is common if it allows family members to travel from afar.
In Israel, even secular families (like mine) typically observe the full seven days. By law, immediate family members are entitled to paid leave from work. After the funeral, mourners return home and eat round foods—such as eggs, lentils, or round cookies. The circular shape symbolizes the cycle of life: death is part of that circle.
Throughout the week of shiva, neighbors and friends bring food and refreshments. Mourners do not serve guests; they are meant to receive comfort, not host.
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Burial in Israel
Every town in Israel has a religious cemetery, and some also have civil (non-religious) sections. Every Israeli citizen has the right to be buried free of charge in their local cemetery. Due to limited land, burial today is often in multi-level structures or wall niches. Choosing burial in a different city—or in a traditional in-ground grave—can be very expensive.
Israel is a small country, and the land occupied by cemeteries presents a real national challenge. Yet no broadly accepted rabbinic leadership has emerged with widely supported creative solutions, such as reusing graves after many decades. Cremation remains extremely rare among Jews in Israel.
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Differences Between Israel and the Diaspora
Through conversations with guests I have guided over the years, I’ve learned that mourning practices differ significantly between Israel and Jewish communities abroad.
In Israel, funerals are held quickly. After seven days, the family visits the grave. After thirty days, there is another visit, often marking the unveiling of the headstone. Outside Israel, particularly in the United States and parts of Europe, the headstone unveiling typically occurs eleven months after death. Until then, there may only be a simple marker.
I heard several explanations for this difference, particularly in Germany. One explanation is practical: the ground settles over time, and families prefer to wait before placing the permanent stone. Another explanation is historical: in many parts of Europe, the guilds that crafted gravestones were not Jewish, and producing Hebrew inscriptions was time-consuming and complicated.
Another major difference: In Israel, burial is traditionally in simple shrouds, without a coffin. In many countries, such as the United States, Germany, and Argentina, burial in a coffin is legally required. I searched for explanations for this practice. Some suggest it was intended to protect the dignity of the deceased or for sanitary reasons. In Argentina, for example, coffins sometimes have a small opening at the bottom so the body can still return directly to the earth—fulfilling the verse, “For dust you are, and to dust you shall return.”
If you know of other explanations, I would love to hear them.
I also learned that Jews in the Diaspora generally do not say “R.I.P.” Instead, they say, “May their memory be a blessing.” In Israel, there are several versions of what to say when leaving a house of mourning, depending on the community and tradition. The classical blessing is:
“May the Omnipresent comfort you among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem, and may you know no more sorrow.”
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Additional Mourning Customs
Mourners traditionally tear a garment—a physical expression of the heart being torn. For a parent, the tear is made on the left side (over the heart). For other relatives, it is made on the right side. The symbolism suggests that mourning for parents never fully ends.
During shiva, mourners sit on low chairs or stools, symbolizing lowered status and vulnerability. Visitors do not greet mourners with “hello” or “shalom.” The word shalom shares a root with shalem, meaning whole or complete, and a mourner does not feel whole.
The door is often left unlocked, signaling that visitors are welcome and sparing the mourner the constant need to rise to answer it.
My mom, Yafa Wald, Carmel (4.5 y/o Redhead), Yuval (1.8 y/o), and I, 2025.
Saying Kaddish
When my father passed away in 2022 after prolonged suffering, I was not emotionally available to explore these traditions deeply. Death always surprises us—even when expected.
In that vulnerable moment, I encountered Israel’s chevra kadisha (burial society) and religious establishment—institutions that, even aside from personal grief, often evoke strong feelings.
My mother, a believing and traditional woman, asked me to say Kaddish for my father in synagogue during the early weeks. I went and recited it. I asked whether I could say it in Hebrew translation, because I wanted to understand the words I was saying. I try, in my Jewish life and practice, to do what I understand. I was told that was not permitted.
In that moment, I understood something profound: I had become like many Diaspora Jews who prayed in Hebrew without understanding the language.
There are several forms of Kaddish—Rabbi’s Kaddish, Mourner’s Kaddish, and the standard Kaddish. Traditionally, Kaddish is recited for eleven months—not twelve. Why eleven? Because Jewish tradition teaches that only the utterly wicked remain inhell for a full twelve months, and we do not wish to imply that our parents were among them.
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Visiting the Grave
When visiting the grave, it is customary to recite Psalms whose opening letters spell the name of the deceased, along with verses connected to the word neshama (soul), as though helping elevate the soul.
For years, I felt that I did not understand what I was reading. At my father’s first memorial, I suggested to my mother that instead of Psalms, we read Hebrew poetry—clear and modern language that we could truly grasp. As often happened in her life (and mine), “she didn’t want to upset the religious neighbors,” and we followed tradition.
At my mother’s grave, at the end of shiva, we did read Hebrew poetry.
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In Summary
The practices surrounding burial and shiva are primarily rooted in rabbinic tradition rather than explicit biblical commandments. Cultural, communal, and practical differences shape how they are observed.
In Israel, burial happens quickly. In the Diaspora, it may take several days. In Israel, burial is in simple shrouds directly in the earth. Abroad, it is usually in a coffin, often with a funeral home ceremony beforehand. In Israel, shiva is typically observed for the full seven days, with paid leave guaranteed by law. In the Diaspora, it may be shorter due to workplace realities.
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At the beginning of the funeral, some people offer eulogies. I chose to share lines from Yehuda Amichai, my favorite Hebrew poet.
My Mother Was a Prophet- Yehuda Amichai
translation by Chana Bloch and Chana Kronfeld
My mother was a prophet and didn’t know it,
Not like Miriam the Prophetess dancing with cymbals and tambourines,
not like Deborah who sat under the palm tree and judged the people,
not like Hulda who foretold the future,
but my own private prophet, silent and stubborn.
I am obliged to fulfill everything she said
and I’m running out of lifetime.
My mother was a prophet when she taught me
the do’s and dont’s of everyday, paper verses
for one use only: You’ll be sorry,
you‘ll be exhausted, that will do you good, you‘ll feel
like a new person, you’ll really love it, you
won’t be able to, you won’t like that, you‘ll never manage
to close it, I knew you wouldn’t remember,wouldn’t
forget give take rest, yes you can you can.
And when my mother died, all her little predictions came together
In one big prophecy that will last
until the Vision of the End of Days.
https://lilith.org/articles/
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Mom, thank you for the good, the difficult, and the values. It was a remarkable journey.
And thank you to all who reached out with messages of comfort. It truly moved me.