In 1947, the would-be first Prime Minister of Israel, David Ben-Gurion, addressed the UN Commission on the Partition of Palestine: “Three hundred years ago a ship called the Mayflower set sail to the New World. This was a great event in the history of England. Yet, I wonder if there is one Englishman who knows at what time the ship set sail? Do the English know how many people embarked on this voyage? What quality of bread did they eat?

“Yet, more than 3,300 years ago before the Mayflower set sail, the Jews left Egypt. Every Jew in the world, even in America or Soviet Russia, knows on exactly what date they left — the 15th of Nissan; everyone knows what kind of bread the Jews ate — matzah; even today the Jews worldwide eat matzah on the 15th of Nissan.”

Ben-Gurion contrasted Jewish and English historical memory to argue that we were deserving of a national state. But why does the Jewish people, collectively, recall historical events with great detail? The evidence may be found in this week’s parashah, in an underappreciated pasuk (verse).

One year after the Exodus, the Torah records, Moshe commanded the Children of Israel to do the Pesach (9:4).

Rashi suggests a subtle distinction: Although the calendar had already been promulgated (Leviticus 23), Moshe commands them now because the time was at hand.

The requirement to observe Pesach mitzvot in the future was actually part of the original Pesach. Amidst the dramatic events of slaughtering the lamb, smearing the doorposts with blood, the death of the first-born, and the national rush out of Egypt, the Torah states: This day will be a zikaron, a remembrance, a celebration of God for all future generations, to be celebrated forever. (Exodus 12:14)

Moshe here halachicly institutionalizes the experience of the previous year. Historical memory is sustained by action well after the drama has completed; without action, the eroding forces of life render it faded, irrelevant, and ultimately dead. This is why we know the details that Ben-Gurion cited.

We have unprecedented access to information — archeological discoveries, publications of books and periodicals, and now the Internet. But studies indicate that Americans know less about their history than previous generations, and American Jews even less about Jewish history. The model of this week’s parashah anticipates memory. The time was at hand; Moshe commanded; the people had to choose — relive it or forget. They obeyed and we are the beneficiaries.

But more than historical memory is at stake. Many of our mitzvot preserve unique religious moments, personal and national moments, when we felt especially blessed, when we felt God’s presence. The mitzvot of today captured divine moments of yesterday, and by doing them, we make religious moments of the future possible. If God and religious life have faded for us, perhaps it is because we let them lapse. How many felt God’s blessing at the birth of their son or daughter, a bar or bat mitzvah, under the chuppah, or just an ordinary day that became religiously extraordinary — and let them lapse?

We all experience great moments that we say we will never forget. But, by any meaningful measure, we do forget them.

First anniversaries make second anniversaries possible, and many more. The real challenge is whether we take the time and make the effort to really remember. The mitzvot, the halachic institution of religious moments and historical events, are key to our historical, religious, and moral Jewish life, our present and our future. Shabbat Shalom.

Rabbi Seth D. Gordon of Traditional Congregation is a member of the St. Louis Rabbinical Association.