Sermons & Stories

Parshat Vayeilech near the end of Deuteronomy is filled with a sense of history. The transition from Moses to Joshua, the instruction to read the Torah every seven years, the foretelling of a future where we will turn away from God. A scroll is written to bear witness – to remember.

The act of witnessing and remembering remains an integral part of our tradition. We remember Shabbat, we remember the mitzvot, we teach our children about our past, and we remember our departed. It’s a beautiful tradition – once you become family, we’re always connected. No matter how long or how brief our time together, when one of us passes away, we say kaddish each and every year. Death severs life, but it does not sever our connection. We bear witness to the lives of our loved ones who have died. We remember.

It’s been twenty years since we bore witness to the worst terrorist attack in US history. We mourn the loss of the two thousand, nine hundred, seventy-four people who were killed in New York, D.C., and Pennsylvania and the thousands of responders and survivors who have died since then and the tens of thousands who suffer from 9/11 related medical conditions.

We mourn the loss of life and we mourn the loss of what once was. So much was shaken that day. For me 9/11 took place in the afternoon – I was spending my first year of Rabbinic School in Jerusalem. There were numerous terrorist attacks in Israel in 2001, so my class and I were used to people calling us to ask if we were ok. On 9/11 it was eerie how the roles were reversed as we were frantically trying to get through to family and friends, mostly in New York.

I remember how we stopped class and had just turned on the television when the 2nd plane hit. I remember how Adena and I, along with another couple, hosted almost all sixty rabbinical, cantorial, and education students in our apartments, because we were closest to the school. I remember the huge outpouring of support in Israel, with a massive display of candles, flowers, pictures appearing at the Jerusalem Consulate around the corner. I remember Israelis telling us over and over again, “Now you know what it feels like.”

I remember hearing that America had changed. Every time we called home, any time we asked how things were going over email, we would hear about how America had changed… it’s just different. When we asked, “What does that mean?” We would get brief statements of how things were more patriotic or there were more people flying flags. It wasn’t uncommon to hear that people felt more united.

In the past twenty years we’ve seen the US change and change again and change some more. Privacy, travel, immigration, treatment of Muslims or those thought to be Muslim, war, defense spending, technology, entertainment – so many aspects of life were altered by 9/11. When we see such division these days, it’s important to remember that on 9/11, we all mourn together. We don’t say kaddish alone.

I was inspired to learn recently about the “Survivor Tree.” In October, following 9/11, a severely damaged tree was discovered at Ground Zero, with snapped roots and burned and broken branches. The tree was removed from the rubble and placed in the care of the New York City Department of Parks and Recreation. After its recovery and rehabilitation, the tree was returned to the Memorial in 2010. New, smooth limbs extended from the gnarled stumps, creating a visible demarcation between the tree’s past and present. Today, the tree stands as a living reminder of resilience, survival, and rebirth.

Along with the Survivor Tree, we bear witness. we remember. On the Eve of 9/11 we remember all we lost and we remember our need for resilience, survival, and rebirth - what we need to continue on.

Shabbat Shalom & L’shana Tova!