Judaism seems to place a disproportionate emphasis on reminders. In fact, there is an entire category of mitzvot dedicated to them, which includes several of the most well-known mitzvot.
One such example is the mitzvah of mezuzah, the command to affix a scroll upon the doorpost of one’s home.
Regarding this mitzvah, Maimonides1 writes, “Whenever one enters or leaves a home, he will be confronted with the declaration of G‑d’s unity; he will remember the love due to G‑d and will be aroused from his slumbers and absorption in temporal vanities.”
Another example is the mitzvah of tzitzit, the command to wear fringes on the corners of four-cornered garments as a constant reminder of one’s religious commitments. As the verse states,2 And you shall see them [the tzitzit] and remember all of the mitzvot of the L‑rd.
Additionally, in the Talmud, R. Meir expounds3 : “What is different about sky-blue from all other colors [i.e. why was it specified for the mitzvah of ritual fringes]? Because blue resembles the sea, and the sea resembles the sky, and the sky resembles G‑d’s seat of glory.” The blue thread of tzitzit is thus designed to be a reminder of our heavenly connection.
Further examples of such “reminders” include the mitzvah of tefillin, the command to don phylacteries on one’s head and arm as a daily reminder to bind ourselves to G‑d in mind, heart, and deed4; reciting the Shema as a reminder of G‑d’s unity, morning and evening; observing Shabbat as a reminder of Creation5 and the Exodus6; and various Jewish festivals that remind us of different providential events in our nation’s history.
The Hebrew word for this particular category of mitzvot is eidot, or testimonial mitzvot.7 Accordingly, each of these mitzvot “testifies” and reminds us of their underlying ideas and related events. Additionally, by performing the mitzvot, we, too, bear witness to G‑d’s hand in our collective and individual lives.
While not formally part of this same class, there are many other Jewish practices and traditions that are designed with a similar intent.
For example, wearing a headcovering (referred to as a kippah in Israel, or by Eastern European Jews as a yarmulke, possibly from the Polish word jarmulka) as a reminder to fear heaven.
The Talmud8 relates that astrologers predicted R. Nachman bar Yitzchak would become a thief. His mother would therefore remind him: “Cover your head so that the fear of Heaven will be upon you.” Elsewhere,9 the Talmud relates that “R. Huna ben Yehoshua never walked four cubits bareheaded. He would say: ‘The Divine Presence is above my head.’’’
Interestingly, many associate the word yarmulke with the Aramaic words, yarei malka—awe of the King.10
Another example of Jewish tradition orchestrating such regular spiritual reminders for us is the practice to read a portion from the Torah scroll every Monday, Thursday, and Shabbat.
This regularly scheduled reading of the Torah was established by Moses to ensure that three days not go by without Torah study,11 so that our connection to G‑d and religious obligations would never be far from our minds.
The entire schedule of the observant Jew seems to revolve around such prompts: prayer, study, ritual, dress—these are all triggers designed to keep the religious practitioner in focus.
Why, one may ask, does Judaism make such a big deal about reminders? Does it view human beings as so forgetful and fickle that they need so many cues, on one’s head, arm, clothing, doorpost, and throughout the calendar day, week, and year?
Modern-day philosopher Alain De Botton describes the uniqueness of the religious calendar: “In the secular world, we tend to believe that if you tell someone something once, they’ll remember it... Religions are cultures of repetition. They circle the great truths again and again and again. The religious calendar is a way of making sure that across the year you will bump into certain very important ideas. In Jewish chronology, Passover reminds us to reflect on the importance of liberty and freedom. Now, you won’t typically do that by accident; you will do that because you are guided to do that. In the secular world, we think that ‘If an idea is important, I’ll bump into it. I’ll just come across it.’ Nonsense, says the religious worldview. We need calendars, we need to structure time, we need to synchronize encounters.”
We need reminders because, while the human brain is wired to calculate and invent many incredible things, one thing our mind is not very good at is remembering. Our brains have a remarkable capacity to compile millions of data points received from our senses to create a single image, and at lightning speeds! Yet, reminding ourselves of simple things is often difficult. In fact, the average person can only retain up to seven objects in their short-term memory!
We are therefore in need of constant reminders, or “synchronized encounters,” to ensure that we don’t succumb to life’s many distractions and instead stay on course to lead a life that is guided by our value system.
Indeed, as the following studies suggest, the key to acting on our values is how regularly we are reminded of them.
For instance, in a study conducted by UCLA Professor Dan Ariely,12 half the participants were asked to recall the Ten Commandments while the other half were asked to remember ten books they had read in high school before taking a quiz. The results overwhelmingly indicated that the mere fact of being reminded of the Ten Commandments reduced the tendency to cheat.13
Another researcher, Deepak Malhotra14 of Harvard Business School, found that Christians were three hundred percent more likely to give charitable donations if the appeal was made on a Sunday than on any other day of the week. Obviously, the participants did not change their minds about their religious beliefs or about the importance of charitable giving between one day and the next. They were simply more likely to have attended church and thought about G‑d on Sunday than on any other day of the week. He referred to this phenomenon as “The Sunday Effect.” Similarly, it was found that among Muslims in Morocco, people were more likely to give generously to charity if they lived in a place where they could hear the daily call to prayer from a local minaret.
Interestingly, this finding was not limited to religious individuals—people who reported to be atheists showed equivalent levels of increased benevolence when reminded of religious principles or moral values!15
Ultimately, it is not what we believe but how regularly we are reminded of our beliefs that transforms our behavior.
This is why, more than any other religion, Judaism inserts choreographed cues into the daily lives of its practitioners so that at every turn we are confronted with signals and symbols to help us recall our most cherished values and to act in accordance with our highest ideals.
It is not what we believe but how regularly we are reminded of our beliefs that most determines our behavior and the people we become.
R. Avraham Mordechai Alter, known as the Imrei Emes, was the third Rebbe of the Gerrer Chasidic dynasty. He once heard that one of his Chasidim would be traveling to Paris on business. In those days, many devoutly religious Jews lived in shtetls and more rural areas outside the bustling big cities of Europe, where the secularizing effects of the Enlightenment were most prevalent. Traveling to the big city was therefore considered a spiritual risk, because it was full of distractions and temptations to leave the traditional way of life behind.
“I know that one can purchase excellent cigars in Paris,” the Rebbe told the Chasid. “Please purchase some for me when you are there.”
Though puzzled by the strange request, the Chasid of course agreed to do so.
After his business was completed, the Chasid boarded a train heading back to Poland. As they passed through Belgium, he suddenly remembered that he had completely forgotten to purchase the cigars for his Rebbe! He got off at the next town and bought the finest cigars he could find.
Boarding the train after this detour, he arrived back in Ger and went to see his Rebbe.
“Rebbe, I must be honest. I did not purchase these cigars in Paris. On the way home, I made a special stop in Belgium and got the best Belgian cigars I could find. They are certainly as good as Parisian cigars, if not better.”
“My dear son, do you really think that I needed cigars from Paris?” said the Rebbe with a smile. “I wanted you to remember even in Paris—the epitome of temptation and negative influences—where you come from and the values you stand for.”
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