The last days of Pesach celebrate two subsequent events to the Exodus from Egypt. One happened a week after the Jews departed Egypt. The other will, G-d Willing, happen very soon.
When Pharaoh realized that he had let the Jews go, he had a sudden change of heart and decided to chase after them with his army. In the end, the sea split and his army drowned. The Jews were finally completely free. This event is relived each year on its anniversary, the Seventh Day of Passover.
The Jewish people continued onward to receive the Torah and, 40 years later, enter the Holy Land. They built the Bait Hamikdash (Holy Temple) at G-d's behest and stayed until it was (twice) destroyed and they were expelled. Fast forward nearly 2000 years and we are still in a state of exile.
The Jews tasted a more comprehensive freedom after the Splitting of the Sea than the Exodus. Yet, many wars later and many successes and failures later, the taste of absolute freedom still eludes the Jewish people. Alas, the liberation was not complete and it was not eternal.
That’s why our prayers are filled with petitions to G-d to send Moshiach. We yearn for a time when true and absolute freedom will reign throughout the world. We long for an end to all types of oppression and suffering. We aspire for an age without bloodshed and hunger. We pray for a time when G-d's presence will be felt by all. Only when the entire world is at peace will the Jewish destiny be complete.
We celebrate this great achievement each year on the last day of Passover. Though this event has yet to occur, we are confident in the G-dly purpose of our lives on earth. We believe that just as our past has tremendous meaning, so will our future.
Perhaps, this is one of the reasons we recite Yizkor on the last day of Passover. We say the Yizkor Memorial Prayer four times a year. So, it’s entirely appropriate to recite it on Passover. But, why do we wait until the last day of Passover to recall the memory of our loved ones? Shouldn’t we do it on the first day, the first opportunity (when there are likely more people in Shul anyway)?
Yizkor is not meant to help us cope with the loss of loved ones. It’s not some type of mourning therapy. Rather, Yizkor is a favor we extend to our loved ones. By coming to Shul, saying a prayer and pledging tzedakah in their merit and memory, we are continuing their legacy. We are displaying that their lives were not for naught; that their lives continue in us. Yizkor is not about receiving; it’s about giving. Yizkor is not so much about the past as it is about the future.
What better time to evoke the memory of our predecessors than the day we celebrate the future of Judaism?
This year let us remember the past to build the future. Let us pledge to continue to make the world a better place until we indeed merit the coming of Moshiach!