Holocaust Memorial Day – Yom HaShoah 5774
Naomi Barnett
April 15, 2015
We are a religion based very much on names
You are Your name son of His name
daughter of Her name
who was the child of Their names
when We are called up to Our sacred book
We use Our names
and when We read from it,
every word has to be correct,
or the witnesses on either side repeat it,
the correct pronunciation and diction until you can say it, perfectly
it’s not that We’re based on perfection
so much of Us is flawed, so much ready to be filled
when We raise Our heels up to the heavens, Holy, Holy, Holy,
We only wish to get higher
Once upon a time they say
We tried to build a tower as high as God
but We fell
and another time caused the world to be washed over under a sea
We settled around the earth,
too far from each other, far from home for protection
and Our years gave way to more sorrow than we thought we could bear
We are not perfect and yet when
We say Our Kaddish, for Our fallen, we have to get Their names precisely correct,
lest We do not do Their memories peace, justice
and yet on the night of the largest Kaddish of all
Six Million of Us alone
and too many others of Our extended family
We read Their names and stumble over Eastern European spellings
Majka, Minsk, Auschwitz
I am not pronouncing these
I am not pronouncing these
I am not pronouncing these right at all
Forgive me Forgive me Forgive me
as I forsake Your name in the language I never learned
my Zayde might have spoken, safe in America,
I know Your name in my heart but
I cannot say it with this collection of letters
the vowels flood together in a way I haven’t been taught
I have Trespassed, I have Sinned
I have committed the act of Unthinkable Wrongs
Your name was erased and replaced with a number
and these squiggles are all I have to show for it
I have been Greedy
I have been Short
I have been Loathsome
I have been Vain
I have turned away from my God and my people
I have Messed up Your name
I have Forsaken
I have not Forgotten
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