Sermon for Yom Kippur Day Saturday, October 8, 2011

Transcription

1 Sermon for Yom Kippur Day 5772 Saturday, October 8, 2011 Remembering and Forgetting Ha-Olam malei z chirah v shich cha K mo yam v yabashah. Lif amim hazikaron Hu hayabashah hamutzeket v hakayemet V lif amim hazikaron hu hayam she-m chaseh hakol K mo ba-mabul v hashich cha hi yabashah matzilah k mo Ararat. The world is filled with remembering and forgetting As it is with sea and dry land. Sometimes memory Is the dry land that is firm and founded And sometimes memory is the sea that covers everything Like in the flood. And it is forgetting that is the dry land like Ararat. And who will remember? And by what means do we preserve memory? How do we preserve anything in the world? We preserve with salt and sugar, high heat and deep freeze With vacuum seal, with drying and embalming. But the best way of preserving memory is To preserve it within forgetting so that not even a single memory Will be able to penetrate and disturb the eternal rest of the memory. A poem by the late Israeli poet, Yehuda Amichai from his last volume of poems, Patuach, Sagur, Patuach,(Open, Closed, Open), translated by our upcoming scholar-in-residence, Rabbi Steve Sager. I thought this poem might be appropriate to reflect upon as we gather here today for Yizkor, the time when we call upon God to remember (Yizkor Elohim), to remember our loved ones, our family and friends who are no longer among the living and when we ourselves remember how our lives were touched by theirs. 1

2 The poet speaks of remembering and forgetting and connects them with dry land and the sea. However, he tells us that he is not quite sure how to apply this metaphor. Is memory the dry land or the sea and what about forgetting, which element best represents that process? Perhaps memory is like the dry land, something solid and firm that we can hold onto. Memories provide us with a solid foundation in life as we recall those who came before us and made us the people we are, taught us the things that we know, impressed upon us the values that we hold dear. We draw on our memories to justify our actions. Certainly nations recall their past histories and remember the wars and battles with their neighbors, the events which have brought them to the present day. Forgetting, then, is like the waves of the sea that lap over the dry land, over those memories, and attempt to wash them away little by little, as the sand is washed off the beach, out to sea. With the passing of time, memory grows dim, and the details of our lives become confused and uncertain. But then, maybe it is memory that is the sea and forgetting is the dry land. Memory can sometimes be so overwhelming that it covers over everything in our lives and prevents us from doing anything but remembering. It is sometimes so intrusive that we can think of nothing else and we look for a place of refuge from those haunting, troubling memories just as the passengers on Noah s ark sought dry land and found it on Mount Ararat, while the waters still covered over the destruction of the world. Post-traumatic stress disorder has become so common today, people who cannot free themselves from the intolerable memories of incidents in warfare or of an accident or personal attack, whose lives are disrupted by unwanted memories and look for the refuge of forgetting, so that they can go on living. Our tradition has mitzvot that involve memory as well as others that require forgetting. I spoke a few weeks ago about a list of things to remember that appears in many traditional prayer books following the weekday morning service. Six, or in other books nine, zechirot, remembrances, are listed that the Torah calls on us to remember each day. These include remembering the Exodus from Egypt, remembering the Sabbath day to make it holy, remembering the revelation at Sinai, remembering that it is God who gives us the strength to achieve prosperity. We also are to remember the sin of the Golden Calf, remember the punishment of Miriam for slandering her brother Moses and remember Amalek who attacked us without provocation. We are also to remember how God saved us from the curse of Balaam and finally to remember 2

3 Jerusalem, to place it above our greatest joy. There is a whole liturgy in the mystical tradition in which one formally undertakes each day to remember each of these things and to draw appropriate lessons from them. These memories are the dry land, the foundation on which we build our faith. But forgetting can also be a mitzvah. There actually is a mitzvah called shich chah, a commandment to forget. The Israelite farmer is required to leave various gifts for the poor in his field. He may not harvest the corners of the field, they are left for the poor; it is called peah. How big is the corner? It is up to the generosity of the farmer. If he drops one or two stalks of grain in one place, as he is harvesting, he may not go back and retrieve them, they are left for the gleanings of the poor; that is leket. And also, if he forgets to cut a stalk or two, he may not go back and cut it, this is the forgotten sheaf, shich cha, and it is a mitzvah to leave behind sheaves that one has forgotten to cut, for the poor. Forgetting can be made into a mitzvah. That s one kind of forgetting. There are also mitzvot that call on us to forget, in a sense, what harm others have done to us. We are not to bear a grudge or seek vengeance we re told in Leviticus. What is the difference? Vengeance is when your neighbor comes to borrow your snow blower and you refuse because he wouldn t lend you his lawnmower last summer. Bearing a grudge is when you lend him the snow blower anyway, but tell him I m not like you who refused to lend me your lawnmower. I don t take vengeance, but I m still carrying a grudge. Some slights and injuries are better off forgotten. When memory is a sea that covers everything, when it is so pervasive, it prevents us from doing what is right and good or keeps us from functioning at all. We need to seek a refuge in forgetfulness. We need to consciously put some things out of our minds in order to move forward, to improve our relationships, to make sholom, peace among neighbors, or simply to get on with our lives. The poet goes on to ask, who will remember? and by what means do we preserve memory? He suggests that we look at how we preserve other things in the world and perhaps we might apply the same methods to memory. We preserve with salt and sugar, high heat and deep freeze, with vacuum seal, with drying and embalming. All of these methods can at some point be appropriate means of preserving our memories. Perhaps 3

4 different people will choose different means of preserving a memory or maybe different memories require different techniques of preservation. Just as some foods like meat or cheese are best preserved with salt, while other foods like fruits and berries may be better preserved with sugar, some memories require a bit of sweetening and others need to be salted before we consign them to our memory banks. We know that memory is not an exact science and that different people remember the same event and the same person in different ways through different lenses. Some things need to be heated to a high temperature to sterilize them and remove the toxic elements and others are put in deep freeze so that they will last longer and will be kept just as they are. Some of our memories require that we heat them up and remove their impurities first and others are best frozen as we recall them and put away in deep frozen storage for some other time. There are memories that need to be isolated from other memories and might require a vacuum seal to preserve them. Others can benefit from a drying process that removes the moisture and keeps them fresh. Still others may require the addition of embalming fluid to keep them as they were. The poet plays with these possibilities and we too can play with them and think of the kinds of memories we have of loved ones and how we might best preserve each of them, with a bit of sugar or salt? Heated or frozen? Ultimately, Amichai comes to the conclusion that the very best way to preserve memory is paradoxically l shamro b tokh hashich chah, to preserve it within forgetting so that not even a single memory will be able to penetrate and disturb the eternal rest of the memory. Maybe Amichai is recalling the conflicting messages in the mitzvah of remembering Amalek. On one hand the Torah urges us to remember what Amalek did to us when we came forth from Egypt, how he attacked us from the rear and struck the weakest, the stragglers at the end of the line of march. Yet the Torah also tells us to entirely blot out the memory of Amalek from under the heavens, lo tishkach, do not forget. We blot out the memory of Amalek and yet we remember what they did. Maybe this is what the poet means by preserving a memory within forgetting. We annually remember Amalek on the Shabbat before Purim, but we wrap that mitzvah of recalling our enemies in the playful cranking of our groggers whenever Haman s name is mentioned in the Megillah reading on Purim. We remember to blot out the memory. We do not forget. There have been many Amaleks through history and we 4

5 remember and forget at the same time, we filter memory through forgetfulness to make the painful memories tolerable as we move on in life. I m not sure I understand exactly what the poet means to preserve memory within forgetting. It seems to me that sometimes a person s memory is best preserved by some selective forgetting, by intentionally putting out of mind those aspects of a loved one which were most annoying and bothersome, by allowing ourselves to remember the good in that individual, the lovable elements, by helping us find the divine image in that very human person and focusing on those aspects that brought joy and blessing to our lives, in memory. I m not sure that is exactly what Amichai is suggesting, but it seems that it is one way that many of us have chosen to recall our dear ones after they are gone. We remember best through forgetting at least some of the memories we have of our family members and friends and remembering the good and the positive aspects of their lives and letting the rest slip away into the sea of forgetfulness. Perhaps it is best to remember the years of vigor and strength rather than the years of weakness, illness, and deterioration; remembering joy rather than sorrow. As we call on God to remove our sins and cleanse our souls, is it too much to ask that we forgive those departed whom we loved their sins and consign those harsh and troubling memories to forgetfulness? Memory is a powerful tool, but then so is forgetfulness. Memory can bring joy or anguish; it can fill us with sweetness or with unending pain. Forgetfulness can be troubling and disturbing, yet other times it provides a peaceful respite from that which we cannot bear to recall. Today we ve gathered to remember, to draw on the positive aspects of memory to create a loving picture of those whom we have lost who have meant so very much to us, those who gave us life, shared our days, and gave us great joy and comfort over the years. These loved ones have departed this world and are no longer among us, but we can never forget them and what they meant to us. On this Day of Atonement we thank the Almighty for His gift of memory and for the blessing of forgetfulness. May the memories of those we recall this day, bring blessing to our lives, inspiring us to emulate their noblest qualities and may forgetfulness cover over the painful memories with which we struggle and allow us to focus on the good and the positive in all those whom we recall this day. May the merit of our loved ones shine upon us and may the Almighty remember them all for good. May their 5

6 souls be bound up in the bonds of life and may their memory ever be a source of blessing. Amen. 6