10th Anniversary of 9/11 Parashat Ki Tetzei

This is our generation’s “Kenney Assassination,” I heard one friend say in reference to the tragedy that was 9/11. Of course what he meant was, like our parents who so vividly recall exactly what they were doing on November 22, 1963, we will remember the unfolding of events on September 11, 2001. For me, a student then in rabbinical school, we finished with minyan and walked into our classroom. There sat one of our fellow students who had run a bit late that morning and, as a result, had heard about the first plane that struck the World Trade Center. He filled us all in; at the time, we assumed it was just a freak accident. Our professor, looking to begin class, gathered us all together and lamented, “We will do now what Jews do whenever tragedy strikes—we will study Torah.” Not a few minutes passed when the dean of our school came into our classroom. “A second plane has struck the Trade Center,” he informed us. “The FBI has called and warned that we too might be a potential target for terrorism. This campus must be evacuated immediately.” Little did we know at the time, but a true tragedy was unfolding—a tragedy that we will commemorate this Sunday on the 10th anniversary of 9/11.

Unfortunately, my friend was only partially correct. I do remember vividly the unfolding of events on 9/11—where I was; where Rebecca was; how we, our community, and our nation responded the rest of the day. But, in a similar way, I also remember where I was when the space shuttles Challenger, holding school teacher Christa McAuliffe and Columbia, with the first Israeli astronaut Ilan Ramon, came to their fiery end. L’havdil elef havdallot (On quite the opposite extreme other end), I also remember the exact sequence of events on May 13, 2007 and June 3, 2010—the days my two boys were born. Whatever the dates—whether they be tragic: Kristalnacht; Pearl Harbor; Kennedy (John); Kennedy (Bobby); MLK; September 11; or joyful—weddings, the births of our children, a loved one’s return from war or the birth of Israel—we human beings are cursed and blessed with the gift of memory.

Our Torah portion this week, Parashat Ki Tetzei, ends with an interesting and seemingly contradictory set of commandments. “Zachor—Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt—how undeterred by the fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear…you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget” (Deut. 25:17-18). On one hand we are supposed to blot out the memory, but on the other hand we are supposed to never forget!
There are a variety of ways to fulfill this seemingly contradictory set of commandments. For example, the Talmud references these verses as the source for the custom on Purim of drowning out Haman’s name—Haman being a descendant of Amalek. Additionally, before a sofer (scribe) writes a sefer Torah, he writes Amalek’s name on a separate sheet of parchment and then literally scratches the name out. For us, perhaps, we are required to memorialize with prayer and lamentations the tragedies that have occurred in our lifetime and in the life of our people while, additionally, reminding ourselves and teaching our children to work tirelessly to eradicate evil from this world. God has granted us the blessing and the curse of memory, but He has also given us the strength and wisdom to work toward peace and justice.

Please join us this weekend in commemorating the 10th anniversary of 9/11. Religious School students and their parents will have a brief ceremony at 10am on Sunday, followed by a community-building lunch open to all Hillel and Religious School families. At 7pm on Sunday, our great synagogue will host a Southfield-community commemoration led by Rabbi Krakoff. I will look forward to seeing you at one or all of these opportunities to remember, and to derive inspiration to continue to work to “blot out” evil from our midst.

Rebecca, Caleb and Ayal join me in wishing you not only Shabbat shalom (a Sabbath of peace), but in offering prayers for Olam Shalom (a world of peace).