Pausing to Remember: Yom Hashoah, Language, and the World We Build

Our Yom Hashoah tekasim (ceremonies) on Monday created an important pause in our week to remember the past as we continue to carry the memories of those who came before us.

It was an emotional week as we listened to stories of survival and honoured so many family members from our kehilla who were victims of the Shoah; the darkest chapter in human history.

Elie Wiesel in his book ‘Open Heart’ writes:

"I still believe in man in spite of man. I believe in language even though it has been wounded, deformed, and perverted by the enemies of mankind. And I continue to cling to words because it is up to us to transform them into instruments of comprehension rather than contempt. It is up to us to choose whether we wish to use them to curse or to heal, to wound or to console."

Despite how much we all know this to be true, so many of us dismiss the power and damage words can have every day. A comment to a student. A comment to a colleague. Some words cut and stay. We sweep away the pain or swipe through media, with just enough time for the words to sit deeper in our gut, perhaps deeper than we may even know.

The Torah this week focuses our attention on the power of words and their ability to create and destroy people’s lives. The spiritual condition called “Tzara’at”, loosely translated as leprosy, is the consequence outlined in full detail in this week’s Torah reading, for those who slander, humiliate and shame others. Those who gossip are to be alienated from the camp for 7 days, until the affliction on their skin heals. The skin, a mirror of the state of the soul.

Judaism takes words extremely seriously. King Solomon reflects in Proverbs chapter 18:

מַ֣יִם עֲ֖מֻקִּים דִּבְרֵ֣י פִי־אִ֑ישׁ נַ֥חַל נֹ֜בֵ֗עַ מְק֣וֹר חָכְמָֽה: …
The words of a human's mouth are like deep water;
the wellspring of wisdom is a flowing stream.

דִּבְרֵ֣י נִ֖רְגָּן כְּמִֽתְלַהֲמִ֑ים וְ֜הֵ֗ם יָרְד֥וּ חַדְרֵי־בָֽטֶן: …
The words of a grumbler are like blows,
and they descend into the halls of one’s stomach.

מָ֣וֶת וְ֖חַיִּים בְּיַד־לָשׁ֑וֹן וְ֜אֹהֲבֶ֗יהָ יֹאכַ֥ל פִּרְיָֽהּ:
The power of life and death are in the tongue...

This sense of responsibility, to remember, to speak carefully, and to choose humanity, was brought to life this week through the visit of Andy Kranz. Through words, images, and story, Andy shared her father’s experience of survival, and the courage of those who risked everything to help her family hide in the Carpathian Mountains. Her reading of The Secret Home to our primary students was a powerful reminder that memory is not only something we inherit, but something we actively pass on through the stories we tell, and the words we choose.

May we all make time to pause and expand spaces for silence to curate our words kindly and thoughtfully to continue building a just and compassionate world, right here right now.

Time for Shabbos.
Time for chicken soup, slow cooked lamb and poached plums.

Shabbat shalom!