Have you ever sat in a synagogue during a holiday and noticed a quiet shuffle of people stepping out before a certain prayer begins? That moment marks the beginning of Yizkor—יִזְכּוֹר—a deeply emotional and spiritually significant Jewish prayer for the departed. Yizkor is one of those rituals that reaches across generations, touching something universal in all of us: the need to remember, to mourn, and to connect.
What Is the Yizkor Prayer?
The word Yizkor (יִזְכּוֹר) comes from the Hebrew root ז.כ.ר, which means “to remember.” At its heart, Yizkor is a memorial prayer—one that asks God to remember the souls of departed loved ones and grant them eternal peace. But it’s more than just a prayer. It’s a spiritual bridge between the living and the dead, a moment of reflection, of reverence, and of quiet connection. Yizkor is recited in the synagogue and traditionally includes prayers not just for parents but also for other relatives, victims of tragedy, and Jewish martyrs. It’s a collective expression of personal memory, woven into the fabric of communal worship.
When and Where Is Yizkor Recited?
Yizkor is not an everyday prayer. It is reserved for four specific holidays on the Jewish calendar: Yom Kippur (יוֹם כִּפּוּר), Shemini Atzeret (שְׁמִינִי עֲצֶרֶת), the eighth day of Passover (פֶּסַח), and the second day of Shavuot (שָׁבוּעוֹת). Each of these days carries deep spiritual significance, and Yizkor adds a layer of solemnity to their celebration. The prayer is usually recited during the morning service, after the Torah reading. Synagogues often have a special moment for the congregation to stand in silence, focusing inward as the words are spoken aloud or silently from the pages of the siddur (סִדּוּר).
The Purpose Behind Yizkor
So why do we say Yizkor? On one level, it’s to honor and remember those who are no longer with us—parents, siblings, children, spouses, friends. But in Jewish tradition, remembrance is more than just thinking about someone. It’s an act of spiritual connection. By reciting Yizkor, we’re believed to be contributing to the aliyat haneshamah (עֲלִיַּת הַנְּשָׁמָה). The elevation of the soul in the World to Come. The prayer includes a commitment to giving tzedakah (צְדָקָה), or charity, in the name of the deceased, which is considered a merit for their soul. In a world where we often rush past grief, Yizkor invites us to slow down. To remember. To feel. And to lift up the memory of those we’ve lost in a way that brings honor and meaning.
The Structure and Language of the Yizkor Prayer
The Yizkor service is composed of several parts, each deeply personal yet universally resonant. It typically starts with an individual prayer for one’s mother or father, beginning with the words: Yizkor Elohim et nishmat… (יִזְכּוֹר אֱלֹהִים אֶת נִשְׁמַת…), meaning “May God remember the soul of…” From there, the prayer may include remembrances for other relatives, the six million Jews lost in the Holocaust, fallen Israeli soldiers, and victims of terror. The language is poetic, often a mix of Hebrew and the worshipper’s native tongue. While Hebrew is traditional, many prayerbooks include English or other translations to help people connect more personally with the text. It’s not uncommon to hear quiet weeping or to see tears silently falling as the names are whispered under breath. These aren’t just words—they’re lifelines to memory.
🕯️ Yizkor Prayer Text For a Parent
📜 Hebrew:
יִזְכּוֹר אֱלֹהִים אֶת נִשְׁמַת __
שֶׁהָלַךְ/ה לְעוֹלָמוֹ,
בַּעֲבוּר שֶׁאֲנִי נוֹדֵר/ת צְדָקָה בַּעֲבוּרוֹ/בַּעֲבוּרָה
בִּשְׂכַר זֶה תְּהֵא נִשְׁמָתוֹ/נִשְׁמָתָה צְרוּרָה בִּצְרוֹר הַחַיִּים
עִם נִשְׁמוֹת אֲבוֹתֵינוּ וְאִמּוֹתֵינוּ וְצַדִּיקִים וִישֵׁרִים
וּנְהִי מַחֲלוֹנֵינוּ לְעֵת מָוֶת
וְנֹאמַר אָמֵן.
🔤 Transliteration:
Yizkor Elohim et nishmat __
shehalakh/lach le’olamo,
ba’avur she’ani noder/t tzedakah ba’avuro/ba’avurah,
bis’char zeh tehei nishmato/nishmata tzerurah bitzror hachayim
im nishmot avoteinu v’imoteinu v’tzaddikim v’y’sharim,
v’nehi machaloneinu l’et mavet,
v’nomar: Amen.
(Note: Replace the blank with the name of the person being remembered. Use gendered endings appropriately: “shehalakh” for male, “shehalchah” for female; “ba’avuro” for male, “ba’avurah” for female; “nishmato”/“nishmata.”)
🌍 yizkor prayer english Translation:
May God remember the soul of __
who has gone to his/her eternal home.
In tribute, I pledge to give charity on his/her behalf.
Through this merit, may his/her soul be bound in the bond of life
together with the souls of our ancestors, the righteous, and the just.
May our memory bring us comfort in the face of death,
and let us say: Amen.
Who Says Yizkor—and Who Steps Out?
One of the more curious customs around Yizkor is the tradition of those with both parents still living stepping out of the sanctuary during the prayer. The custom varies by community, but its origins are rooted in a mix of superstition and sensitivity. Some believe it’s a way of warding off the “evil eye,” while others say it’s simply to spare those who are grieving from seeing others not mourning. In modern times, many people choose to stay in regardless, using the moment to reflect or pray for communal losses. There’s no one right way—just a shared space for memory and meaning.
Yizkor in the Modern World
Like many Jewish rituals, Yizkor has evolved over time. In today’s digital age, some people attend Yizkor services via livestream, especially if they can’t be physically present in synagogue. Others create personal rituals at home—lighting a yahrzeit candle (נֵר נִשְׁמָה), looking at photos, journaling memories, or simply sitting in quiet remembrance. There’s even a growing trend of people writing letters to their loved ones during Yizkor, or whispering thoughts aloud, as if continuing a conversation across time. Whether traditional or personal, Yizkor is a powerful tool for emotional and spiritual healing. It gives us permission to grieve, to remember, and to find strength in the stories of those we carry with us.
In Conclusion
Yizkor isn’t just about remembering—it’s about remembering with love, with purpose, and with heart. Whether you’re standing in a crowded sanctuary or sitting alone at home, the words of יִזְכּוֹר connect us to something bigger than ourselves. They remind us that memory is sacred, that love endures, and that even in absence, presence can be felt. So the next time you hear the soft rustle of a prayerbook opening or see a candle flicker in a quiet corner, know that something holy is happening. A soul is being remembered. And that matters.