What is Memory?
D’var 2-21-25 – Parashat Mishpatim / Romaniote Nusach
Susan Detwiler
What does it mean to remember?
• We remember where we left our keys. (usually)
• We remember a lunch date we made with friends (unless we’re at the wrong Brew Ha Ha)
• We remember when our child was born.
• Some of us remember watching Neil Armstrong walk on the moon.
• More of us remember watching the news on September 11, 2001.
• We remember the taste of our mothers’ brisket, and the voice of whomever led the seder
as we were growing up.
Judaism is a faith immersed in memory. Twice in this week’s parsha, God reminds us that we once
were slaves in Egypt.
In Deuteronomy, Moses uses the verb Z-KH-R, to remember, 21 times. 14 times, he warns the
Israelites not to forget.
And if we’re lucky, and we think about it, we do remember the traditions of our ancestors.
**IF** we’re lucky. Not everyone is.
In cultures around the world, generations of people have left their homes, and as they left, they
also left the cultures that made those homes, well, home.
Some were forced to abandon their heritage, like Native Americans forced into boarding schools
to be so-called civilized, and the Africans who were captured and enslaved. Others left for a better
life, like the immigrants and refugees who have come to our country, and who, through
assimilation, have slowly forgotten the culture they left – the half-remembered rubrics of
yesteryear that our prayerbook talks about. Others had their people almost decimated, like so
many of our own ancestors.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote, “If History answers the question ‘What happened?’, then Memory
answers the question, ‘Who am I?…We are what we remember. As with an individual suffering
from dementia, so with a culture as a whole: the loss of memory is experienced as a loss of
identity. ”
Culture is the memory of a people.
Our prayerbook is filled with poetry and prayers that are part of our culture, some from millenia
ago. Lighting Hannukah candles – and the melody we use – is part of our culture. The cantillation
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we use here on Shabbat has been passed down through generations of our people and is part of
the Ashkenazi culture that is more often than not the default among American Jews.
There are other Jewish cultures – you may know of Sephardic or Mizrahi. and there are others…like
what you’re going to hear tonight, Romaniote.
My fathers’ parents each emigrated to New York from Ioannina, Greece before the 1st world war.
They grew up practicing the Judeo-Greek tradition known as Romaniote, a tradition that emerged
around the time of the birth of Christ. When they came to NYC, they joined others of Romaniote
descent, forming a small Greek Jewish community. David Nekoukar’s mother, Annette, grew up
attending one of the Romaniote synagogues in the Bronx. My Uncle became a Bar Mitzvah at
Kehillah Kedosha Janina on the lower East Side of NYC.
Then came World War II.
On March 25, 1944, the 1,960 Jews in Ioannina were rounded up en-masse and transported to
concentration camps. 1,850 never returned. Most were murdered. I saw their names engraved on
marble plaques set on the walls of the old synagogue of Ioannina.
Now, there is only 1 Romaniote congregation in the United States – the one my Uncle was Bar
Mitzvah in. There is one in Jerusalem. And the remaining synagogue in Ioannina is now used only
on holidays.
As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks warned – The Romaniote culture is fading away.
About 13 years ago, I visited Ioannina, and started a quest to learn the Romaniote trop, to revive it,
in honor of my ancestors.
This cantillation – trop – is an aural tradition. It is taught by ear. As our older generations have died
out, there are few who have learned it, even fewer who still use it, and fewer yet who teach it.
For the past 7 years, I’ve been working with Dr. Miranda Crowdus, an ethnomusicologist now
working in Montreal, to revive that cantillation. Her presentation Wednesday on the unique music
of Romaniote Jewry was recorded.
Today, I am o ering to you a taste of the Romaniote sound and culture.
I do this in honor of my grandparents and their families; and those who did not survive the
Holocaust. Thank you for being here, to help me honor them.
I am using the Romaniote cantillations, in the style of Cantor Ischakis, from whom Dr. Crowdus
and I received it. David Nekoukar, and his son, Arlo, will have the aliyah, using the Romaniote tune
for the blessings.