The Yamim: When We Replace Headlines with Heart
Rabbi Sampson Rafael Hirsch, the 19th-century German founder of Neo-Orthodoxy, taught that “The catechism of the Jew is his calendar.” By this, he meant that unlike many other religions, Judaism has no set or required principles of faith, but that the Jewish calendar of holydays tells us who we are, where we come from, and what sacred values are required of us.
While there is a hierarchy of Jewish holydays and not all of our sacred days are created equally, it is noteworthy that the Jewish calendar is not sealed forever, but continues to grow. We are about to enter into the period of time shaped by three new holydays – Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Memorial Day), Yom HaZikaron (Remembrance Day for the Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terror in Israel), and Yom HaAtzmaut (Israel’s Independence Day). Each one has its own fascinating backstory of how it was first established in Israel and then radiated throughout the Diaspora. Each one has its own rituals, liturgies, and melodies, which are still in the making. Taken together, these three days give voice to the fact that we are living in the wake of historic events that are of biblical proportion.
On Yom HaShoah, still dumbstruck, we light six candles to commemorate the systematic extermination of six million Jews. Every single day of the year is the Yahrtzeit of thousands of lives that were brutally cut short, but Yom HaShoah “protects” the rest of the calendar from the weight of those senseless deaths. We assign all sorrow and tears to one single day, so that we can live more fully on the other days of the year. This coming Monday evening, six congregant-families, who are descendants of survivors, will light six candles. By their light, we will hear Saul Shulman tell his remarkable story of survival. A special invitation goes to children aged ten and older, as they will be the last generation to be able to hear the first-hand testimonials of survivors. The simplicity of the ritual is the most fitting tribute to the profound loss, from which our people have still not recovered.
On Yom HaZikaron, Israelis spend the day going to visit the graves of their relatives and brothers-in-arms who fell in one of Israel’s many wars. They go to the graves of the family and friends, who were civilians in the wrong place at the wrong time, and fell victim to terror. It is the most solemn day, marked by the wail of the siren, when nearly the entire country stops to stand still and silent. On Tuesday evening, April 21, when Yom HaZikaron draws to a close, we will gather with local Israeli families to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them as they remember personal losses. Understanding that we are one family, we will embrace them and show that they are not alone, even though they are more than an ocean away from the graves of their dear ones.
And then, in what can only be described as emotional whiplash, the tears of Yom HaZikaron give way to the dance of Yom HaAtzmaut. After our service of mournful poetry and prayer, created in partnership with the World Zionist Congress, our commemoration turns to celebration. With Israeli food, art, and dance, we will fulfill the promise of the Psalmist: “Those who sow in tears will reap in joy.” Together with local Israeli families, we will celebrate the miracle of the State of Israel. For one day, we will set aside the news of the day and social media alerts. For one day, we will set aside the political debates and the necessary work of correcting the many problems of the imperfect Jewish state. For one day, we will turn to simply marvel at our people’s return to our ancestral homeland. We will simply celebrate the wonder of the fact that we can sing with full voices: “Am Yisrael Chai!”
I hope you will join us for these relatively new Jewish holydays. These sacred days help us to face history as it unfolds in real time, and through these days, we write ourselves into the never-ending story of the Jewish People.
Shabbat Shalom.





Today, the fullness of the life of Fred Zemans emerges again for us to honour and celebrate. Today, we reassign the dignity and esteem to the man, who earned it — mitzvah by mitzvah, small, sacred deed by small, sacred deed.
