Rabbi Scolnic shares his favorite sermons.
Most of us know a story about the origins of the marathon. The story relates that in the year 490 BCE, an Athenian herald named Pheidippides was sent to Sparta to request help when the Persians landed near a place called Marathon in Greece. He ran 150 miles on two consecutive days. He then ran the 25 miles from the battlefield to Athens to announce the Greek victory with the words, "We have won" and collapsed and died on the spot from exhaustion.
Then Hanna went outside. Just past the gate her dog, Zuzi ran up and barked.
May 2nd will be Yom Hashoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day. In a certain way, there should be nothing to say. We should be at this point in time, between sixty and seventy years after the whole world knew that six million Jewish people had been murdered during the smokescreen of World War II, be left with little to say that has not been said a thousand times. All these years later, we should be looking back at the murder of millions of people and be able to say, “We all have learned so much from that horror-filled catastrophe. The world is now a different place than it was then. The world has not allowed anything like that to happen since and it will never allow anything like that to happen again. The millions who were killed at least did not die in vain; their deaths woke the world up to what evil can be and what evil can do.”
I’d like to tell you two stories at this solemn time before Yizkor on Yom Kippur.
One is from an experience I had in my late grandmother’s apartment; the other is from my father’s notes, as I’ll explain in a couple of minutes. Both stories are about remembering and keeping, about what remembering means. Yizkor means to remember. But what does it mean to remember? That’s the question I want to pose to you at this hour: What does remembering mean?
Sunday: 9:00 am
Monday-Friday: 7:15 am
Rosh Chodesh: 7:00 am
Shabbat : 9:30 am
Monday-Thurs: 6:45 pm
Kabbalat Shabbat 8:15pm