‘Memory,” the late Elie Wiesel often said, “is the key to redemption.” And the High Holy Days in which we now find ourselves are all about memory.
We can start with Rosh Hashanah. While this is certainly its most popular name, the Torah ascribes several other, more official titles to the occasion: Yom HaDin, the Day of Judgment, when the 10-day process of repentance begins; Yom Teruah, the day of sounding the shofar, the iconic, central mitzvah of the chag and Yom Harat Olam, the day when the world was created (though, paradoxically, this month of Tishrei is actually month number seven in our calendar – but that’s a whole other lecture!).
Yet the principal name the rabbis ascribed to this holiday is Yom Hazikaron, the Day of Remembering. The obvious message being sent is that God remembers our behavior – be it worthy or less so – over the past 12 months, and now we must face up to the consequences for our actions. We, too, are called upon to think hard about the events that have transpired in our lives – both personal and national – over the last year, and draw the right conclusions from them.
The Rosh Hashanah prayers are heavily focused on remembering. Indeed, one of the primary sections of the day’s amidah, the silent devotion – which is the longest of the year – is called Zichronot, memories. We are reminded of God’s power of total recall. “All the secrets are open to You,” we acknowledge, “there is no forgetting before Your throne of glory. You remember every occurrence; nothing whatsoever is hidden from Your eyes as you search humanity’s deeds.”
The machzor goes on to list several Biblical personalities whom God remembered: Noah, a decent man who was saved from the flood; Abraham, Sara and Chana, whose unrelenting prayers for a child were finally answered and even Efraim, representing the 10 lost tribes that God promises to remember and someday redeem. “I will remember the covenant I made with you in your youth,” pledges the Creator to each one of us, “and establish an eternal bond with you.”
Yom Kippur, for its part, is also largely wrapped up in memory. Over and over, we will tap our hearts and confess the myriad of sins we may have transgressed in the past year. We will recall with great detail the elaborate ritual of the High Priest as he entered the Holy of Holies on this one unique day to effect our atonement; we shall call to mind the martyrs who sacrificed their lives rather than abdicate their devotion to God. Most movingly, we’ll recite the solemn Yizkor remembrance prayers for our departed loved ones, for the victims of the Holocaust and for the fallen soldiers and terror victims of the State of Israel. While Yizkor is recited four times a year, Yom Kippur is the most important of these occasions.
Yet while remembering is absolutely vital to the process of teshuva – which begins by openly recalling and then confessing our misdeeds – I want to suggest that forgetting is no less important. God instilled in us an amazing ability to forget, and it can often be a great blessing. For if we were to actively remember and fixate on all the crises and calamities we’ve endured throughout our personal lives – and certainly throughout our national history – we would be paralyzed into a state of shock and depression. Buried in tears, overwhelmed by sadness, we would struggle to function. As a bereaved parent, I can tell you with absolute certainty that when it comes to surviving the loss of a child and still soldiering on to lead a productive life, the power to forget is an invaluable tool.
But there is another substantial merit to forgetting. Holding on to anger, nursing a grudge and feeding off negative energy can eat away at your soul, one caustic bite at a time. “Forgive and forget” are palliative medicines that maintain our sanity and help to keep us from falling off the emotional ledge into endless recrimination and bitterness. So along with the al chet and the Avinu Malkenu supplications, I recommend you practice this mantra and use it freely:
Did someone offend or insult you this year? “Forget about it!”
Did someone you thought was your friend not invite you to their birthday or anniversary party? “Forget about it!”
Did your boss at work choose someone else for the job you really wanted? “Forget about it!”
And even if you who are reading this don’t always like the way I write – “Forget about it!”
The power to remember and the ability to forget are the essential ingredients of teshuva. Use them wisely and they hopefully will ensure that 5782 will be our best year yet.
Shana tova!
The writer is director of the Jewish Outreach Center of Ra’anana. jocmtv@netvision.net.il