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In the aftermath of the shooting on 10.27, I could not drive by the Tree of Life building, so I figured out detours to get to my destinations. Having driven by once, and with the emotional reaction I had at that moment, I knew that I could not, and did not do so for over one year. The same thoughts came to me as the deconstruction phase began and has now concluded. I did not want to drive by, and did so only once as I had a meeting on the Chatham University campus, so there was no avoiding the site. I handled it well. Recently I absentmindedly drove by, not thinking. I looked to my left and was amazed at the progress, and then noticed the equipment had taken down Pervin Chapel. I lost it, and nearly had to pull over to compose myself. I’ve been thinking about that moment for over a week now. What was it about that precise instance, and what I saw, that caused such an extreme response?

I thought about the prophet Jeremiah, who witnessed the destruction of the First Holy Temple, who said “They placed their abominations in the House that bears My name and defiled it”(32:34) and the prophet Haggai who said “Is it a time for you yourselves to be living in your paneled houses, while this house remains a ruin?” (1:4).  I thought about the story in Avot D’Rabbi Natan 4:5: Once, Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai was walking with his disciple, Rabbi Y’hoshua, near Jerusalem after the destruction of the Temple. Rabbi Y’hoshua looked at the Temple ruins and said: Alas for us! The place that atoned for the sins of the people Israel – through the ritual of animal sacrifice – lies in ruins!” Then Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai spoke to him these words of comfort: “Be not grieved, my son. There is another equally meritorious way of gaining atonement even though the Temple is destroyed. We can still gain atonement through deeds of lovingkindness.” For it is written: “Lovingkindness I desire, not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6).

Much as we may have avoided it, the Tree of Life was the twelfth victim of 10.27. We held a L’hitraot Ceremony on April 23, 2023, in gratitude for the over 25,000 days that this building stood at the corner of Shady and Wilkins as a place of peace and joy. I was experiencing what my ancestors experienced with the destruction of the Holy Temple. To rephrase, the place that stood seventy years, a center for worship, study, and joy, lies in ruins. Unfortunately, there was no Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai to offer his brilliant response. It has taken me days to process this, the destruction and eventual burial of a loved one. That’s when I realized that I was now in a period of shiva, and I would suppose that many of you who have walked or driven by may be as well. If you have ever experienced shiva, you know that it just takes time. For us at Tree of Life, this is another painful step in a necessary process that will lead to rebirth and renewal. That’s why I didn’t want to drive by, or generally even enter the building. As the remains are carted off, the main sanctuary remains as a silent witness to 10.27, a lone sentinel to remind every single human being on this planet of the dangers of the evil of antisemitism.

But Judaism is not about sadness. Mourning and the associated rituals have their place within the panoply of our lives, but Judaism is about joy. Soon there will be a groundbreaking, following by the slow process of building anew. Excitement will once again reverberate at the corner of Shady and Wilkins, as a place devoted to joy will once again be a commanding presence at that corner. The masses that turned out in shock and horror will now do so in awe and celebration. Yes, the wait has been too long, and we still must wait. But we must also prepare, so that when the new Tree of Life opens, we will be ready not merely to resume our activities in our new home, but achieve even higher. May it be so.