The power of remembering

The other day, I had a chance to walk through a vacant building on South Main Street in Cape -- a building that is on the National Register of Historic Places. It used to house the former B'Nai Israel synagogue. Remnants of the former congregation remain even though the worshipping community ceased operations more than a quarter-century ago. The Yahrzeit wall listing the English and Hebrew names of deceased congregants going back to the synagogue's founding, and their dates of death, is still there. The fact that there is no longer a Jewish congregation to look at that wall and be reminded touched me with a twinge of sadness. I didn't know any of those folks personally, but a few surnames were familiar -- Hecht, in particular. Several members of the Hecht family are memorialized on the wall. The Hechts largely funded the construction of that place of worship back in 1937. Our family once lived in a home built by the Hechts at 700 Bellevue St., now a church parsonage.

Christianity has no corresponding tradition to match the Yahrzeit. In Judaism, the names of dead congregants are recalled, in perpetuity, on the date closest to the deceased's death. On some Yahrzeit walls, as was the case at the former Cape synagogue, lights illuminate the death anniversary. Year-in and year-out, a Jewish family could be assured of having a loved one remembered. One other wrinkle: Judaism is, in contrast to Christianity, a relentlessly home-based faith. Passover, for example, is observed in private homes. You don't have to go to synagogue as Christians go to church buildings for Christmas Eve or on Easter. When it comes to Yahrzeit, observant Jews may observe the loved one's death anniversary at home by lighting a special long-burning candle in memory. Yet the worshipping community is also given a permanent reminder through the memorial plaques on the synagogue wall. The Yahrzeit and the accompanying mourner's Kaddish (prayer for the dead) recited in worship, are incredibly powerful.

To be sure, some churches choose to recall the names of their dead -- but those who do, only remember that name for a year, and generally only on the following All Saints Sunday in November. After that single recollection of the name, the identity of the dead must live on in personal memories for there is no permanent wall monument where the names of all the deceased are showcased together. This is a sad disavowal of the heritage bestowed on Christianity by its mother faith, the faith of Jesus of Nazareth from cradle to grave.

Yahrzeit is a Yiddish word that roughly translated means "anniversary of a death." It's a wonderful tradition and this columnist would like to see a variation of it developed for the church. The New Testament would seem to support the notion:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." -- Letter to the Hebrews, ch. 12, verses 1-3.

Friends, the names of the dead recall the cloud of witnesses. We need more reminders that those who have gone before us remain as beacons. Their past lives can light the way when our own lives become challenging and difficult. For as the writer of Hebrews bluntly points out, sometimes we grow weary and lose heart. Why the church does not avail itself more fully of this important legacy of Judaism is puzzling. It seems to me, reader, that the church, no doubt by omission, effectively distances itself from its dead -- that remembering them has little value. If my assertion is untrue, then why don't we do a more intentional job of recollection?

A congregation that starts some version of the Yahrzeit may well find me sitting in the pews next Sunday.