Otto Frank had 2 daughters whom he loved very much: Margot and Anne. Both of them died in the concentration camps during World War II, along with their mother Edith. Many of us know Anne through the diary that she left behind. But her father, Otto, wanted something different for himself. He sought to create a more personal legacy for his daughters. In Congregation Har-El in Jerusalem, a Reform Jewish synagogue in the center of the city, there is a Torah scroll with ornaments given in memory of Margot and Anne.

Each Shabbat, the Torah is taken out from the Aron HaKodesh, the Holy Ark. The ritual of the Hakafah is performed, when the Torah is brought closer to the people. There is an intimacy between God’s word and us that the parading of Torah permits to happen. In that sanctuary, Anne and Margot’s memory is brought near to those in attendance. On one trip to that synagogue, our then synagogue educator [Lee Brice] welled up with tears of pride when one of her students served as the Hagbah [the one who is given the honor of lifting the Torah after it is read]. There this young man stood with Torah in his arms; there he was with the legacy of these two souls who were about his age, close to his heart. The Torah ornaments were given in their memory, but the legacy was in this young man’s hands. This was a true gift; one that need to be cherished. Torah is more than an old book. Its words are more than rules and stories that are recorded with ink on parchment. As we read these words, we connect to the living God. When we study Torah, it is as if God is speaking to us and indeed through us to the world.

Otto Frank’s gift is more than a tribute to 2 young women whose lives were cut-off far too soon. It is a symbol of a living legacy than is the responsibility of all of us to cherish. It reminds us of the joys of righteous living but it also embodies the pain and suffering that is part of history. But Otto Frank’s gift teaches us that pain and suffering need not define us, words of Torah can help transcend to seek what is holy and what is pure in this world.

In the Talmud, Moses wonders why he has to put calligraphy on certain letters. God lets him transcend time and space as Moses finds himself in the classroom of Rabbi Akiba which is in Israel centuries later. God reassures Moses that the Divine word has everlasting ability to guide human kind. God says: “Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward.” And when Moses asked what happened to Akiba, God shows him that he died as a martyr at the hands of the Romans. He is boiled in oil and his flesh is torn from his body and sold in the market place; pretty horrific ending for a great man like Akiba. But the text repeats that same line afterwards: “Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward.” Torah embodies all the aspects of our lives; the good, the bad and the ugly.

Simchat Torah is a holiday when we finish reading the Torah and start the cycle over again. “Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward.” It is a time for us to rejoice in Torah as we find newness each year as we delve deeper. We celebrate by dancing and parading the Torah scrolls around. The words of rabbinic sage Rabbi Ben Bag-Bag echo through our souls: Turn it, turn it over again for everything is in there. We are full of joy. “Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward.” And then we remember another part of our reality; those who died kiddushet HaShem; who died because of their connection to Torah. “Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward.”

Each week, a core group of 30-40 people gather in synagogue to study Torah. They love the interaction with the texts. “Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward,” they might say. They each bring a different perspective to the session. My job is to be a conductor more than a teacher, creating music out of the words and insights they share rather than letting it slip into a cacophony. The end result is that many of us find the words we studied in our mind’s eye for most of the week. We find ourselves embodying Torah. “Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward.”

For Otto Frank’s daughters sake, hold onto to Torah. The words on those scrolls are their legacy. They died because of their connection to them. “Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward.” For our children’s sake, live by the words of Torah. They remind us of the sanctity of life and cause us to build a better world when we hold them close to our heart.

“Zot HaTorah, Zot HaSachar…this is Torah and this is its reward.”