In the spring of 2018, under the leadership of Rabbi Matalon, responding to the deepening polarization and deteriorating quality of life in America, B’nai Jeshurun Congregation in NYC undertook an unusual project. Thirteen members, including two rabbis, participated in an exchange with 10 members of the Michigan Corrections Organization, the union of corrections officers in Michigan (MCO).  They wanted to create a bridge between Christians and Jews, the liberal East Coast and the so-called heartland of America, between progressives and conservatives. “Over three days together in Lansing, MI, followed by three days in Manhattan, we asked: How can we deepen our understanding and address our preconceived notions of the “other” in American life? What about conservatism could progressives come to value, honor and learn from; and vice versa? Could learning from others about their values and experiences help identify solutions to our nation’s most pressing problems? We hoped that the exchange would be meaningful and provocative, but we never expected that we would develop such a profound relationship with MCO, with a depth that would lead MCO members to travel to New York in November to share their love and support with us.”

At the end of the Shabbat services that Saturday, Rabbi Matalon introduced three young men, probably in their late thirties, officers in the Michigan Correction Organization, who came to New York.  They had made the trip from Michigan to read a letter to us that they had written after the shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue.  Standing in the front of the congregation where the rabbis usually are, in front of the ark where the Torahs are kept, they took turns reading the long letter from the MCO. They were Christians, they said, and some of them had never known a Jewish person before.

“We are writing today as conservative, patriotic Americans,” they began. “We believe America is indeed an exceptional place that has served as a unique symbol and model to the world. As such, we have seen enough of the divisive politics that separates our country and are calling for an end to any rhetoric that confuses hate and fear mongering with patriotism. We were shocked, angered, and saddened to learn that a man filled with hate for Jews entered the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh PA and committed a horrific act of terror on Jewish Americans peacefully at worship. We are literally sick over what happened and at times have had no words to describe it. Although this was the madness of one twisted individual, we can no longer turn a blind eye to the people and places where this kind of hatred is fueled. As Americans, we all understand what terrorism looks and sounds like and should fear this example the most because the perpetrator is an American. We feel connected to this tragedy through our Jewish friends and family and our shared religious traditions. …we understand this was an attack on all of us. We wish to convey to you that we grieve this loss of Jewish American lives and that we care about the safety of your community. We condemn anti-Semitism in all of its malignant manifestations.”

The synagogue was silent. We listened to these young men, saw their serious faces, saw their emotion.  They were probably the age of my son, who’d grown up in the Midwest, played ball with people like this and made life-long friends.  At the end, the whole congregation (probably more than five hundred people, all rose as one in a standing ovation that lasted for a long, long time.  Ever since the first sentences of the letter, tears had been streaming down my face.  I was filled with gratitude, awe, and yes love for these men who now found themselves at a different place, intellectually, emotionally and ethically. They were Christians, true to the teachings of their faith, as they stood in our synagogue, giving and receiving love. I don’t know that I’ve ever witnessed anything more moving.  I could see that the exchange my synagogue had organized, six months before the shooting at Squirrel Hill, had been transformative for everyone involved.  It was a grass roots effort to spread peace and understanding. 

Who knows, how many other efforts might be going on around the country, even as I write?

Click here for more about the event and to read the letter in its entirety.

Recently, I was having a hard time feeling hope, especially after the horrific massacre of the eleven Jews praying on a Saturday morning a few months ago at the Tree of Life Synagogue in the Squirrel Hill section of Pittsburgh, by an angry lone individual (or would you prefer to say something like “madman”?).  I couldn’t get over the bitter irony of death invading the Tree of Life, the name Jews give the Torah, and that Christians call Jesus. 

I learned of the massacre while I was at home, Saturday October 27, taking care of my husband who struggles with Parkinson’s Disease. I was watching Shabbat morning services of my synagogue, B’nai Jeshurun, as it was being live streamed, when towards the end the rabbi announced that the increasingly familiar phenomenon of mass murders had just come to the Jewish community.  Feeling sickened and scared, I turned on the news. How could anyone have such hatred for people they didn’t know, had never met, but thought of as the dangerous “other,” the enemy, someone they hated with all their heart, defying the teachings of both Jesus and the Hebrew Bible to “love thy neighbor as thyself?”

The following Saturday I went to services at my synagogue. It was packed as were so many places of worship around the country. Towards the end of the service, Rabbi Roly Matalon gave a brave sermon saying that he could no longer avoid politics. Anti-Semitism had to be called out as the fuel—not the root--of white supremacy as well as its companion in arms, a strident white nationalism. I felt even more despairing when I left because I knew he was right.

But soon I saw things that gave me hope, that made me begin to accept that maybe love can triumph over hate.  There were vigils mourning the victims where Christian and Muslim students joined with Jews. Overwhelming support came the Muslim American community, for they too had been the object of hatred. NBC News reported, “A Muslim American group has raised more than $200,000 through an online crowdfunding campaign to help families affected by the Oct. 27 mass shooting at a synagogue in Pittsburgh, which killed at least 11. Celebrate Mercy, one of the organizers of the campaign, told NBC that the money will assist families with medical bills, funeral expenses and other immediate needs. Tarek El-Messidi, the group’s founding director, says his hope through the fundraiser is "to respond to evil with good.” Some of the money may go to foster Muslim-Jewish dialogue and collaboration. 

Only if we talk to each other, when we truly meet face to face, can there be hope of change. I saw this in practice on Saturday November 10th, when I returned to services at my synagogue to find several members of the Michigan Corrections Organization who had come to express their outrage at the massacre, their support for Jews, and to witness the profound transformation they had each experienced as the result of dialogue.