From Out of the Ashes - New Life

In a few short weeks we will mark the 6^th anniversary of the Tree of Life massacre and the slaughter of 11 Jewish innocents at prayer in the single worst antisemitic attack in U.S. history.  Despite the passage of time, the wounds remain raw, the trauma to families and to the community all too real.

Back in 2019, much of the North American Jewish community and countless others took part in the commemoration marking that first anniversary.  A poignant and emotional ceremony was held at Soldiers & Sailors Memorial Hall preceded by a day of study and reflection.  Gary Jacobs, then Chair of the Board of JCC Association of North America, and I, at that time its President & CEO, moved our board meeting to Pittsburgh so that we could join in the embrace of the families and the community on a day all who took part will long remember.

Having grown increasingly close with many of the locals in the preceding months, I arrived in Pittsburgh a couple of days beforehand so that I might attend Shabbat services with Rabbi Myers and the congregation and spend time with the Schreiber family.  Brian then the CEO of the Pittsburgh JCC and his wife, Suzanne – a member of the Tree of Life Board, and their children, Zev and Adi increasingly felt like members of my own family.

After one of the most moving Shabbat morning services I have experienced, a service attended by faith leaders, political leaders and dozens of first responders who had risked life and limb, rushing to the scene of the attack on that fateful day, I returned to the Schreibers’ Squirrel Hill home for lunch.  Afterwards, over coffee, Suzanne began to tell me about a young woman who had been their guest the preceding week.  An MSNBC reporter had come to town to do a story about the commemoration and welcomed an invitation for a home-cooked Shabbat meal.  Suzanne seemed to be going on and on about her, while my mind drifted to thoughts of a second cup.

“She was really smart”, Suzanne said, “and really cute”.  “And she’s single and living in New York.”  “Are there any more cookies?”, I asked.  Then she zeroed in.  “Don’t you have a son living in New York”?  I acknowledged that I did.  “Is he seeing anyone?”  I answered truthfully.  “How would I know?”  Yoni had been active socially and I assumed that he was busy on the dating scene.

“Do you think he’d like to be fixed up?”  I tried to draw the line.  I told her that to me, interfering in the social lives of my children was like the third rail of parenting.  I had made a point of not getting involved.   But Suzanne kept gently pushing and nudging and, at the end of the day, they were hosting me at a very difficult time, and doing so with remarkable kindness.  I could only deflect for so long.  So, finally, in the hope that it would settle the matter once and for all, I agreed to text Yoni, and ask if he’d be interested in a blind date with this reporter (apparently, Suzanne had already gotten permission from Rachel).  My son, being the thoughtful, grounded, Jewish young man his mother and I had raised him to be, quickly responded – “What does she look like?”  So, I found a photo on the company website and passed it along.  “OK” he said.  I was stunned.

A few weeks later, he called to tell me that they’d met for dinner in the city.  “How’d it go?”, I asked.  “It went pretty well”, he replied, “but whose picture did you send me?”  It seems that my limitations know no bounds and that there was more than one Rachel Rosenbaum working for NBC at that time – both of them beautiful. 

That’s the origin story.  Here’s how it turned out.  Last Sunday on the shores of Cape Cod, at a magnificent ceremony overlooking the ocean, Yoni and Rachel were married.  They were surrounded by adoring family and friends who’d gathered from far and wide.  A gathering that included Yoni’s brother Aaron, Aaron’s wife Zoe, and their nearly one-year-old son David, who’d come from Israel after a year of untold trials to join in the celebration and to introduce David to his three great-grandparents.  Not far from the chuppah (the wedding canopy), were Brian and Suzanne, without whom this extraordinary couple would likely never have met.

As for me, I’ve been thinking about this bit of destiny a good deal in recent months as we approached what turned out to be one of the great nights of my life.  Every now and then we experience something that is nearly impossible to explain – something so coincidental, so unexpected, so fanciful that, at least to me, it can only be due to the influence of a higher power.  It is moments like that which affirm for me that we live our lives in the presence of God.

The hand of God is also in evidence in countless other ways.  How can we not be awed and terrified by nature’s destructive power?  The devastation of wildfires, floods, hurricanes and landslides.  In the immediate aftermath we see the wholesale destruction they leave in their wakes – and our hearts break at all that was lost.  But look again a year or so later and you begin to see something altogether different.  On the forest floor, along the denuded hillside, out of the path of receding floodwaters – wildflowers appear.  New life – and the possibilities that follow.

With October 7 around the corner, we will once again be reminded of the devastation wrought by Hamas and its allies now 323 days ago and counting.  But, not long thereafter across the Gaza Envelope, the Kalaniyot (anemones) will begin to appear, as will increasing numbers of residents of the area, returning to their homes, their kibbutzim.  Each a beautiful wildflower and a reminder of all that may yet be. 

From out of the ashes – new life. It is a repeating theme in the story of our people - and now a part of that of my son.  חזק. חזק. ונתחזק. – Be strong.  Be strong.  And let us strengthen one another.

שבת שלום – Shabbat Shalom.