The Torah commands us to remember the events at Mount Sinai, where we accepted the Torah and became the Chosen Nation (Deuteronomy 8:18). In the next verse, the Torah admonishes us not to forget Hashem. What does the term “forget” mean? After all, we all forget things. The concept of mourning is predicated on the idea that man inevitably forgets over time, diminishing the acute pain associated with the loss, allowing the mourner to move on. We would be severely debilitated if we remembered every detail of every painful life situation we’ve ever encountered. Apparently, the admonition not to forget has a different connotation, associated with removing these events from our hearts. If something is relevant and important to us, we commit it carefully to our active memory, fearful lest we forget even one precious detail. Things we deem to be of minimal relevance and importance are pushed aside and eventually relegated to the dustbin of our minds. Chazal tells us that one who forgets even one item of Torah he learned is tantamount to condemning himself to death. How could Chazal be so demanding in light of human frailty? Perhaps they were not concerned with the individual who forgets due to limited capacity, rather, they were referring to the individual who trivializes what he studied, dismissing it as irrelevant. Such an individual, one who denies the connection between the Jew and both the written and oral laws, condemns himself.
Esau provides an example of the danger inherent in forgetting. Chazal tells us that Esau was exemplary in honoring his parents, yet after Jacob took the blessings, Esau anxiously awaited the passing of his father in order to murder his brother. Why didn’t Esau consider the pain this would have caused his father? Esau could only appreciate his father while he was alive. Once Isaac passed away, Esau was prepared to forget him completely, to erase the memory of his father, to render everything Isaac represented and taught him irrelevant. Esau was incapable of remembering. He was prepared to trivialize and dismiss his memory of his father in order to exact his revenge.
Perhaps our commitment to remember is the reason we exist today, despite our long exile as well as the countless attempts to exterminate us. Many nations have come and gone, their residual impact absorbed or discarded by their successors. Our steadfast refusal to trivialize any aspect of the written and oral Law has preserved us in the face of withering condemnation by others. Sabbath and Passover are the fundamental cornerstones of Judaism’s past and guarantors of its future. They must remain in the forefront of our national memory; trivializing or dismissing either as irrelevant would surely destroy us as a nation.