Rabbis Rice: We Will Not Forget

“We Jews suffer from many diseases, but amnesia is not one of them.”                                                                                                 – Isaac Bashevis Singer      Today our nation remembers the events of September 11. Those who lost precious members of their family on that fateful day in 2001, do not need such commemorations as we do; their loss is with them every day. And although we are far from New York City, we too recall all those who perished in the World Trade Center, in the four hijacked planes, and in the Pentagon – all victims of fanaticism and hate.      The Jewish people are a people of memory. We deliberately, intentionally, in a formal and structured way, built memory into our tradition. From Yizkor (our memorial prayers for the dead) to yahrzeits (remembering our loved ones by lighting a candle on the anniversary of their death) we recall with reverence those who came before us. The Torah also instructs us to remember an evil that was done to us long ago, when our people wandered in the wilderness: “Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt. When you were famished and weary, they met you on your journey and attacked those who were lagging behind… so you shall blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget [Deut. 25: 17-19].”      How is it that we be commanded both to “blot out the name of Amalek” and to “remember” and “not forget”? One interpretation is that we obliterate the names of those who do evil, who commit terrible crimes against humanity. When some Jews pronounce the name of Adolf Hitler, for instance, they often add the phrase “y’mach sh’mo – may his name be erased.” We do not make celebrities out of criminals; we do not give their names to our children; we do nothing to perpetuate their continued remembrance on earth. But we do remember what Amalek did. We remember acts of atrocity and keep alive the recollection of evil. No matter how painful it is, we force ourselves to contemplate such deeds year after year; we set aside ritual moments to bring them back to our consciousness. Why? Because whenever tyrants crush their opponents by force, whenever bullies prey on the weak, whenever bigotry bursts forth in violence, Amalek lives again. It would be nice to pretend otherwise. It would be nice to forget that such dreadful deeds are done. But if we do forget, Amalek will reign supreme.      The boys and girls who are celebrating their B’nai Mitzvah this year were just babies when the September 11 attacks occurred. They have no direct memories of that day. But we will teach them about what Amalek did because that story awakens us to the work we have to do in this world.      We will tell our children that Jews are here to stand up against cruelty and hate. We are here to follow a different way: the way of justice and love. We are here to create a society that protects the vulnerable and cares for the weak and honors the dignity of every person. So we show our children that the purpose of memory is to teach us to live better lives; lives of purpose; lives that matter. We combat evil by devoting ourselves to the good. We resist the darkness by remembering to hold fast to the light. We look forward to seeing you on Kol Nidrei.