Help Us Remember by Rabbi David Baum
- Rabbi David Baum
- Sep 11
- 3 min read
Help Us Remember©
By Rabbi David Baum
"I was only an infant when 9/11 happened.
I don’t remember where I was.
I don’t remember staring, gaping jaw at the TV,
Trying to swallow what was happening before my eyes.
I don’t remember the tears and hopelessness.
I don’t remember the scalding images
Of destruction on American soil.
All of my images of 9/11 come from the stories I’ve heard,
The lessons taught in elementary school,
Back when we vowed to never let the next generation forget.
I remember the stories of God’s grace when first responders heard the voice of a trapped child and rescued her.
I visited the museum in New York.
I heard the chilling voices of the last words of someone to their loved one.
I heard the screams followed by the blank nothingness.
The “Oh God!”s before the towers collapsed.
The screams of agony, the tears of grief,
The unbridled human pain of hopelessness,
As people took flight from the top floors of the towers.
From the horror, I’ve heard the stories of the bravery of our first responders,
Ordinary heroes, and numbing stories of chance,
A missed flight, a forgotten alarm, a traffic jam.
The simple things that change your life forever.
I am glad that I don’t remember 9/11.
The stories, the videos, the voice messages,
Suffice for knowing the horror.
I wish I remembered the America and world of 9/12.
When everyone was an American,
People of other nations stood up proudly and said,
“I’m a New Yorker, too!”
When we were united,
When we stopped drawing lines between
Black and white,
Upper and lower class,
Republican and Democrat.
We were all proud Americans.
I only remember the hatred, violence, and divisiveness we have now,
A culture instead of acceptance,
One full of lines and boxes,
Of labels instead of people.
I grew up in this cynical world,
Never remembering such a moment,
A moment of pain, sorrow, anger
Aimed outwards, rather than within,
A righteous, protective anger that binds rather than destroys.
Out of the ashes of Ground Zero we rose,
If only for the blink of an eye.
We treated everyone as our neighbors,
And our neighbors as family.
For one shining moment after the storm,
We were a united front.
I wish I could remember 9/12."
Tefillah
We wish we could remember 9/12, when Sorrow bound us, and Hope and Faith pulled us forward.
Ribbono Shel Olam,
אֵ-ל זָכוֹר
El Zachor, God Who Remembers, Help us remember that day after, when grief united us, when we saw one another not as strangers, but as neighbors, not as rivals, but as brothers and sisters.
זוֹכֵר הַבְּרִית
Zocher HaBrit, God Who remembers the covenant, Help us remember the covenant of these United States of America: a covenant not written only on paper, but etched in the hearts of a people who long for liberty and justice. In an age of anger and political violence, turn us back toward one another.
Awaken in us what President Lincoln called “the better angels of our nature,” so that our country may be preserved in peace.
Let the memory of our shared tears become the wellspring of compassion. Let the memory of our shared courage become the spark of healing. Let the memory of our shared embrace become the strength of our future.
Bless this land with unity without uniformity, justice without prejudice, and peace without fear.
May we see no more violence in our land. May every person sit safely beneath their vine and fig tree, with none to make them afraid.
And may we, the people of this nation, rise from ashes into light, from division into wholeness, from despair into hope.
May It be Your Will
כֵּן יְהִי רָצוֹן
Amen