Parashat Yitro, Exodus 18:1-20:23

This parasha has been generously sponsored by Susan Kitchell, for Shabbat, January 26, 2008 in memory of her beloved mother Dora Kitchell z"l whose Yahrzeit is Tu B'Shvat.

We rarely think of memory as something that carries us into the future.

Like many of you, I have recently been under the weather. Unable to do a good deal of work, or even much reading, I have spent time dozing or "channel surfing." This latter time-wasting activity brought to mind the Bruce Springsteen song 57 Channels (and Nothing On) . Sixteen years after it was written, Springsteen's gripe still holds true, even though it should be updated to 500 channels.

More and more stations seem devoted to rerunning both the hits and misses of the past. There are the usual sitcoms, cop shows, and medical dramas. One channel promises nothing but game shows. (Personally, I'm waiting for the station that will show nothing but old commercials without commercial interruption.) These cable channels market this stuff as though they are fulfilling a deeply felt need, satiating a longing for an idealized past. In marketing nostalgia, they raise the desire to regain something that never truly existed. The programs that delighted me in my youth are corny and dated. The clothes and hairstyles that were so fashionable are comic. This is not what I remember.

Perhaps such nostalgia works better with a different memory trigger. The archetype of such a trigger is provided by Marcel Proust in Remembrance of Things Past, where a taste of a tea-soaked biscuit is the key to his narrator's childhood memory:

And once I had recognized the taste of the crumb of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime-flowers which my aunt used to give me … the whole of Combray and of its surroundings, taking their proper shapes and growing solid, sprang into being, town and gardens alike, from my cup of tea.

(Overture, Swann's Way, Remembrance of Things Past, vol. 1)

In this multi-volume work, Proust's narrator is trying to recapture lost time, to re-experience the past in a qualitative fashion. Proust termed this "involuntary memory." A "voluntary" memory recalls the facts of the past. When an involuntary memory is triggered, sensations are experienced giving texture to the memory.

Anything can be a trigger, and it is frequently unpredictable. Proust's narrator found out that experience waned the second or third time around. Others are more hopeful. I wear my mother's ring because it does indeed manage to conjure up unexpected memories. A friend of mine recently purchased a coat, in part because the texture of the material brought back memories of her grandmother. These items are keys to unlocking a treasure box of emotions and sensations that preserve memory.

Memory is an essential component in Jewish practice. This week, as we stand at the foot of Mount Sinai, we are commanded zachor (remember) Shabbat. In a few months, when we read the book of Deuteronomy, the same Ten Commandments will exhort us to shamor (keep or observe) Shabbat. Tradition tells us that these are two sides of the same coin, as described in the Shabbat song Lecha Dodi: "Keep and remember in one utterance". Rashi maintains that shamor is a commandment to refrain from action, while zachor is the use of action to sanctify the occasion.

Of these two aspects of the Shabbat mitzvah (commandment), shamor, that is "keeping" or "observing" Shabbat, is probably the easier to fulfill. There are lists of actions permitted and prohibited on Shabbat. These "how to" guides for observing Shabbat cover the spectrum from traditionalist to edgy. But what on earth does it mean to remember Shabbat and how do we fulfill this commandment? Is it a matter of putting it in my Blackberry so that I get a reminder on Friday to buy the necessary items, make preparations and clear the calendar for Saturday? Surely Shabbat is important enough that I am as aware of its imminent arrival as I am of its departure!

For some of our ancestors that was not enough. Shammai the Elder would have Shabbat uppermost in his mind every day of the week. That way, when he saw an item of food that would enhance Shabbat, he would set it aside for Shabbat. If later in the week he saw a better item, he would put that aside and eat the first selection (Talmud, Beitsa 16a). More than this, to Shammai Shabbat shaped the week and his purpose for the week. He would fulfill the mitzvah of Shabbat, even when not actually observing Shabbat by actions that showed he "remembered" Shabbat.

Rashbam views remembering differently, pointing out that the word zachor always refers to something in the past. This is how it used in Deuteronomy 9:7 Remember, never forget, how you provoked the Lord your God to anger in the wilderness, and in Deuteronomy 32:7 Remember the days of old,/Consider the years of ages past;/Ask your father, he will inform you,/Your elders, they will tell you.

Reading the different commentaries on the Shabbat commandments, I would describe shamor as representing voluntary memory and zachor as being involuntary memory. Each aspect has a modern problem: Memory isn't what it used to be. We don't need to remember things like we used to on account of the many technological aides we have to help us remember: computers, blackberries, PVRs, and DVDs. These devices have brought us to the point where we are often so busy creating memories that we don't have time to experience the actual events. How many of us witness significant events in the lives of loved ones through the filter of a camera lens or video screen? How can we conjure up the texture of a memory when we are so busy taking pictures of the cookie dipped in tea that we fail to taste the actual cookie?

Memory used to be a lot better, not just when we were personally younger, but back in history. In the days before recording devices, various techniques were used to aid memory. The Talmud suggests five items to help strengthen memory: "Wheaten bread and much more so wheat itself, eating a roasted egg without salt, frequent consumption of olive oil, frequent indulgence in wine and spices, and the drinking of water that has remained from kneading. Others say: Dipping one's finger in salt and eating is also included." (Talmud, Horayot 13b) Rhymes were used in ancient times, as were mnemonic devices (a number of which can be found in the Talmud). "Memory theater" was a visualization technique dating back to classical times that was used to memorize vast amounts of material:

The material to be memorised was supposed to be conceived of as a familiar location. This could take the form of all or part of a building: an arch, a corner, an entrance hall, and so on.
… the process of memorising would involve the memoriser in a mental walk through the building. The route should be one which was logical and habitual, so that it might be easily and naturally recalled. The theatre was now ready to be filled with the material to be memorised. This material took the form of mental images representing the different elements to be recalled.
…strong images were the best, so reasons should be found to make the data stand out.

James Burke, The Day the Universe Changed

These are the types of techniques that helped me get through high school chemistry and have helped countless others on tests and exams. Memory aids to recall "just the facts, ma'am," useful in remembering the details of shamor, observing Shabbat. But memory is a funny thing, especially when you get past the facts. Maurice Chevalier and Hermione Gingold reminiscing about their youthful romance thought they "remembered it well" in the Lerner and Loewe musical Gigi. Instead, the factual details of their memories were flawed, but the emotional essence, the zachor, remained. Such memory is not a photograph of what has occurred; it is a painting done in each individual's artistic style.

Does this mean that a lousy memory makes it more difficult for us to fulfill the commandment of remembering Shabbat? A friend once told me that when he in university, he "remembered" Shabbat. That is to say, he observed it but not fully in the way he would have liked. He looked forward to the time when it would be possible to observe Shabbat as he remembered it, surrounded by family and observing the customs particular to his family. He was finally able to do this once he had a family of his own. Zachor, "remembering" Shabbat, goes a step beyond Rashbam's concept of remembering the past. It even goes beyond the textured memory brought about by the play of light on a mother's ring or the particular softness of bubbie's (grandma's) coat, which link the past to the present. In my friend's Shabbat, zachor was the link between past and future.

We rarely think of memory as something that carries us into the future. How can it, when we, who remember, are living in the present? Yet, each time we "make shabbes," we are clearing a path towards that future memory.

Shabbat encompasses and encapsulates all who observe it: those in the past, the present, and the future. My friend may long for a childhood experience of Shabbat, I may long for a particular Shabbat memory, and you may too. We know full well we cannot recreate it. But we can take elements of those memories, treasure them, and incorporate them into the Shabbatot (Sabbaths) we share with our loved ones, hoping these elements will be meaningful for them, so that it in time these customs will trigger their own memories of Shabbat. We are creating future memories and future observances.

Resh Lakish taught that on Shabbat we each receive an extra soul (Talmud, Beitsa 16a). I like to think of that as a composite of all the souls that have had a part in sharing, shaping and elevating my celebration of Shabbat, without whom I could not fulfill the commandment zachor, remembering Shabbat. No doubt my Shabbat observance is totally different from that of my ancestors, even of that of my grandparents and parents, but elements of what they did is found in what I do. It is the legacy they bestowed on me, as I hope to bestow it on my children and grandchildren. They have helped me understand that "one who celebrates Shabbat will be given an inheritance beyond limitation." (Talmud, Shabbat 118a) May the investment we make in shamor, observing Shabbat, lead to a rich legacy of zachor, remembering Shabbat, for those who follow us.

Shabbat shalom,
MS