The Egyptians for example understood such things. They left breathtaking memorials in stone and they weren't the only ones. The ruined temples of the Greeks the colorful shrines of the Aztecs and the Mayas bear witness to the distant past like an arrow shooting through time to hit its target in the present. By their very existence these ancient structures tell a story of former glory a story without words but with a deep long silence. It is this very silence with all its mystery that stirs the heart of anyone who looks upon these wonders carrying him away momentarily from the present and linking him to significant points in history. And with heightened awareness he attunes himself to the silent memories that emanate from the stone.

Why is there no equivalent structure to commemorate the Exodus?

Even Yehoshua himself erected a stone monument after crossing the Jordan River. Before he'd even conquered the land of Canaan he wrote the entire Torah -- in seventy languages -- on huge stones on the slopes of Har Eival (see Yehoshua 4:3). And he didn't do it on a whim of his own inspiration; he was carrying out the command of the Torah itself so that the whole world should know about this Torah and remember it. So why wasn't the Exodus memorialized in the same manner? After all it is a Torah obligation to remember that event forever. 

The answer is actually found in the question itself. Think for a moment: what happened to those stones Yehoshua carved? Where are they now? Does any trace of them remain?

And the pyramids temples and obelisks -- what is their message? Are they there to remind us of something vibrant and pulsing that influences our actual lives? Yes they bear witness but they are mute witnesses. Perhaps they tell a story. But what message if any does their story convey? True they evoke a vague sense of wonder; they stir up momentary excitement in the hearts of tourists who make sure to have their picture taken at the site as a record of their adventures.

Now if this were merely a matter of nostalgia a monument might be appropriate. But the memory of Yetzias Mitzrayim is much more than mere sentiment. The Exodus is meant to shape the actual lives of the Jewish People in its image in a permanent way. Its purpose is to influence to live in the hearts of the faithful not just for some historical era but always and forever.

That is why this memory cannot be perpetuated in stone.

In fact a monument would only do harm. It would be a distraction from what is most important and become a spot to be visited briefly by a minority of interested people when they happen to be in the area. 

Still what is the alternative? How does the Torah actually manage to make the Exodus into an active living pulsing and effective memory?

The Torah uses popular modern technique: guided imagery.

There is one pasuk that holds the secret of preserving national memory a verse that is found in the Torah reading on Pesach. Let's examine it:

“And you shall tell your son on that day saying 'For this Hashem did for me when I went out of Egypt'” (Shemos 13:8).

Notice the two parts of this pasuk -- one the requirement of telling the children the story of the Exodus; and two the requirement of telling the story as a personal experience.

Bearing in mind that this mitzvah was given for all generations understanding it becomes problematic. How am I a Jew living thousands of years after the Exodus (or even if I lived only a hundred years after) supposed to recount - by Divine mandate --the events to my children as something I personally experienced when I didn't? I wasn't there among the throngs of people crowded on the shore of the Red Sea. I only have the tradition that was passed down to me through the generations. How then can I be commanded to say “For this Hashem did for me when I went out of Egypt”?

And remember this “me” is not figurative as the Haggadah instructs us: “In every generation a person is obligated to see himself as if he went out of Egypt as is said 'For this Hashem did for me when I went out of Egypt.”

How can such a strange demand be made of us? The answer is found in three words: “to see himself”. To see with the aid of imagination. To consciously form mental images from the glorious past -- clear vivid pictures in bold Technicolor and “to see himself” as a figure in those pictures walking toward the Red Sea in the midst of masses of released slaves. To imagine oneself in fine detail terror-stricken at the sight of Egypt's army closing in from behind with nothing but desert to the sides and waves of the sea in front. To visualize and feel these scenes over and over again and to feel the incredible thrill of the sudden salvation to hear the song of thanksgiving bursting from one's throat…

“A person is obligated to see himself as if he went out of Egypt.” And then what? What will happen as a result of doing this peculiar exercise?

First it's important to acknowledge that we actually do this all the time. We think in pictures spontaneously. Our brain is full of images and they shape our personalities for better or worse. Psychologists refer to this as the self-image.

“Hold a picture of yourself long and steadily enough in your mind's eye and you will be drawn toward it. Picture yourself as defeated and that alone will make victory impossible. Picture yourself vividly as winning and that alone will contribute immeasurably to success. Great living starts with a picture held in your imagination of what you would like do or be” (Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick quoted in Dr. Maxwell Maltz  Psycho-Cybernetics).

Today we know that the key to our personality and experience lies in our imagination and that it is in our power to direct it as we wish. It has been scientifically proven that there is scarcely any difference in terms of the effect on the person between an emotionally-charged experience that is actually happening and one that a person is picturing vividly in his mind's eye. This is a tremendous tool that everyone has at his disposal and in recent years has even been used medically in the form of biofeedback. Through positive use of the patient's creative imagination certain physical illnesses have been cured. Because this power is so real we can now understand how the Torah can make it a religious obligation.

“Now an event that occurred so many years ago which is meant to make an inspiring impression on a person cannot make that impression merely by recounting it. Therefore Chazal advised us… to involve the senses to imagine a realistic picture [again and again until it penetrates to the subconscious like a personal experience]… and through this picture the memory of Yetzias Mitzrayim will make a strong impression on a person” (Rav Simchah Zissel of Kelm  Chochmah U'Mussar vol. I 27).

So instead of carving a memorial in stone we must carve it into our hearts. There we can erect a historical monument that builds a healthy identity saturated with our past and shaped by our present and future accordingly.

This has been the technique by which the Jewish People managed to pass the torch of liberty from generation to generation from heart to heart to this very day. And now it is up to us to pass it on.

To all my readers and the entire Jewish nation Pesach kasher v'sameach.

Food for Thought

The world is new to us every morning - this is G-d's gift; and similarly every man should believe he is reborn each day.

(Baal Shem Tov)