Having just marked the first anniversary of the October 7 attack on Israel, and with Yom Kippur on the horizon, this is a moment that calls for reflection on the meaning of memory. The Aseret Yemei Teshuva are, year after year, a time for introspection on where we are and how we’ve gotten here. These are the very questions that weigh on our hearts and minds, as we mark a full year since the horrendous massacre and the ensuing war and hostage crisis. We each carry memories and emotions from the past 12 months, along with countless stories from others. As we mark the yahrzeit of so many souls, we must ask: How will we remember this chapter of our Jewish story? What narrative will we pass on to our children and grandchildren about that fateful day in October?
Memory is of paramount importance in the Torah. We are asked to remember Shabbat (Shemot 20:8), the Exodus from Egypt (Shemot 13:3), the history of our past (Devarim 32:7), the gossip of Miriam (Devarim 24:9), the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai (Devarim 4:9), the waywardness of our ancestors in the wilderness (Devarim 9:7), the assault of Amalek on our people (Devarim 25:17), and more.
While some authorities, like the Ramban, see many of these calls to memory as full-fledged mitzvot (Ramban, Hasagot HaRamban l’sefer ha’Mitzvot ha’Asin #7; Sh’chat Lavin #2), the Rambam adopts a more selective approach. He considers remembering Shabbat (Sefer HaMitzvot, Asin #155), Amalek (ibid. #189), and the Exodus (Hilchot Chametz Umatza 7:1) as mitzvot, while excluding the others.
The Rambam’s shorter list of mitzvot connected with memory teaches us that memory mitzvot should only be counted in the 613 commandments if they require action, not only intent. In the mitzvot he lists, we actualize memory through concrete acts: Kiddush and Havdala for Shabbat; the Pesach Seder’s storytelling and symbolic foods or remembering the Beit HaMikdash underneath the chuppah and at various other times within the Jewish calendar. Memory, in this view, must manifest through action. This active memory shapes our present, guides our future, and even opens us up to reevaluate the past.
The Rav, Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik, captures this idea in Halakhic Man, where he writes that our actions done in memory of people or events can reshape the past. “Man molds the image of the past,” he writes, “by infusing it with the future, by subjecting the ‘was’ to the ‘will be.’” (p. 117) This awareness of time, he argues in The Lonely Man of Faith (p. 46- 47), is essential to our relationship with G-d. In the covenantal community, generations of the past, present and future engage in dialogue, and every moment manifests in memory, present action and anticipation of the future (p. 46-47).
This is why, the Rav explains, we have the capacity to do teshuvah. When people reevaluate their past personal transgressions and act upon them positively, the past and future intertwine into a single experience, and the legacy of the past takes on new meaning.
The role of memory in shaping the future is strikingly demonstrated in the debate between Rav Tarfon and Rebbe Akiva regarding the closing blessing of the Haggadah’s Maggid section (Pesachim 116b). R. Tarfon maintains that the blessing of the storytelling phase of the Seder should simply give thanks to G-d for redeeming our ancestors from Egypt, but the optimistic, future-oriented R. Akiva insists on including a prayer for the future – showing that memory must always propel us toward writing the next chapters in the Jewish story; toward redemption.
As we stand before G-d this Yom Kippur with the memory of October 7 fresh in our hearts, we must recognize our responsibility to actively shape how this chapter will be remembered. What actions will be taken to define our shared vision of what this moment in our history has meant and will continue to mean? What concrete steps are each of us taking to build national resilience and foster national unity? How are we supporting those on the frontlines and those who are holding up the homefront? What are we doing to bring an end to so much death, displacement, and despair? These questions are fitting for this Day of Atonement.
This year, when we recite the Yizkor for our loved ones who are no longer with us, we also remember the victims of October 7 and the ongoing war. We commit to preserving their memory, like we do for loved ones of the past, through meaningful action. Let us transform October 7 from a day of horror and devastation into a day of mourning that is also a catalyst for national renewal, dialogue and solidarity.
This is the Torah’s challenge: every memory of our shared past holds within it a call to action, and a prayer for a better tomorrow. As we determine our destiny for the coming year, let’s include in that a commitment to not only remember the past, but also to reshape our future. May our actions in the coming year bring healing to Am Yisrael, peace to our region and redemption to the world.
