Yom Ha-Shoah To the Infinite Power

 Yom Ha-Shoah To the Infinite Power

by Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

2026

It’s Yom Ha-Shoah eve. So many words to speak, so many stories to tell. 

But what can we, a generation or two removed, our parents’ and grandparents’ voices now stilled—what can we say? How many words will fill the void of their absence, of their silence? 

Bikrovai ekadesh—“Through those who are near Me I am sanctified”—Moses says to his brother, Aaron, who had just witnessed the burning fire that consumed two of his sons, Nadav and Avihu.

How holy You must be, O God! How sanctified Your name!

Yom Ha-Shoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, as though we need a day to remember.

Yes, I know—You have Your grand designs, Your grand plans of which we have no knowledge but in which we play a part, like dumb players on a stage, with no script or clear direction. But then you have the chutzpah—the gall—to ask us, Nachamu, nachamu ami—Comfort Me, Comfort Me O My people!

Who by fire, who by water…. Who by gas and who by hanging….

The executioners You appoint, the mercy that You show…

Nations have surrounded me, exuding their fiery breath at my existence, my insistence to abide by Your Covenant, my belief that Tzedek and Tzedakah—justice and righteousness—will save the world but not my grandmother or my grandfather, my uncles and my aunt—a child I never met, who forever will remain a child--in my late father’s eyes, in my mind through the flames….

I have cared, my God. I have planted vines and shade trees, built Tabernacles to Your name, I have not run from Your instruction. But now my tears blind me to Your words, fall upon the parchment, on torn pieces of paper stuffed into shoes, letters sent across the seas, all begging not to be forgotten: Hear me! Sh’ma! Hear me!

I am drowning in the silenced screams, yet vow to remember every last syllable, every last cry. 

Perhaps the joined rivers of tears, the thunderous roar of the masses calling out Your name, will reach You in Your hallowed space beyond all space. Perhaps You will hear and join Your tear to ours. 

You are sanctified, but we are the holy ones.

Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh… Holy to the infinite power. 

Let the Holy sanctify Your Name. May it be so.

©2026 by Boaz D. Heilman