Shining Beacons of Light

Shining Beacons of Light

Monday, November 5, 2018

Remarks at the Solidary Shabbat, Temple Emmanuel of Wakefield, November 2, 2018

Solidarity Shabbat
Temple Emmanuel of Wakefield
November 2, 2018

Dear friends in faith and community,

It is an honor and a privilege to be with you here on this special, sacred, holy evening, as we remember, pray, and support one another in our grief and shock, and also in our love and resolve.

That so many of us are here from our diverse backgrounds, religious perspectives, and political affiliations proves, I believe, that what unites us—our common faith in the God who created and loves each one of us, our respect and even love for the wondrous diversity in our midst, and our hope for a future less divided—are bright lights shining in a world and nation that some days seem very dark indeed. The world, the nation, and Wakefield itself need this light, the light that God shines on the world through us, together.

A week ago many of us here tonight gathered at the other Emmanuel in town—my own church—to support each other following the devastating loss of the First Baptist Church building. As horrific as the fire was—and it was horrific, standing there with Pastors Norman Bendroth and Glenn Mortimer watching helplessly as the fire consumed the building, and as much as its loss leaves a massive crater in the center of Wakefield—we can be relieved that no one was seriously injured, thanks to our police and firefighters. The fire was contained to just the church building.

Our brothers and sisters at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh can’t say the same. Their loss took beloved family and friends—who were fun and funny, passionate and faithful, lovers of God and lovers of God’s people. These beautiful, unique, wonderful people can never be replaced, and neither should they be forgotten.

As it happens, in Christian churches today, November 2, is traditionally observed as the Feast of All Souls, when we remember and pray for those who have died and now live in the fullness of God’s embrace. The eleven faithful Jewish martyrs killed on Saturday are surely among them—living at the center of God’s heart. And there, from God’s heart, they are urging us to be people of faith and love for each other. I know that because that’s how they lived.

The brothers, Cecil and David Rosenthal, were fixtures at the Tree of Life Synagogue. They usually sat at the back and welcomed visitors. They were like ambassadors, friends said. Dr. Jerry Rabinowitz was a well-respected neighborhood family physician who, in the 1980s, was unafraid to treat gay men who had contracted HIV. When others rejected them, including their own families, Dr. Rabinowitz cared for them and showed love and compassion. One former patient said that Dr. Rabinowitz was known to hold patients hands—without gloves—and embrace them when they left his office, providing human touch to people who were often isolated and alone.

Melvin Wax loved his grandson, his religion, and the Pittsburgh Pirates. He was always full of jokes. He was 87 and regularly the first to arrive for Friday evening and Saturday morning Sabbath services. Friends kidded him that he should have been a rabbi. Rose Malinger was 97, the oldest of those killed, and she loved her family above all else. She was the epitome of the caring grandmother, even at 97 preparing family feasts for the High Holy Days.

That’s just five stories out of eleven. Together, from the other side of eternity, they teach us how to live.

In my sermon on Sunday, preached following the fire at First Baptist Church and the day after the Tree of Life shooting, I said that God doesn’t give us buildings—however majestic they may be. They are the work of our hands and our imaginations. But God does give us each other, friends, family, neighbors, of different races and colors, traditions and backgrounds—Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, gay and straight, Democrats and Republicans. God gives us each other to love, to heal, to care for. God gives us each other to hold, to dry each other’s tears, and to make us whole again. We can be that for each other. We need to be that for each other. Right here in this town. This is our time.

May God bless you and us all as we love one another.

Shabbat Shalom. May their memory be a blessing. 

The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD
Chair, Wakefield Interfaith Clergy Association
Rector, Emmanuel Episcopal Church of Wakefield

1 comment:

  1. Your words are beautiful and moving, Matthew. Their memory is eternal when they are remembered by prose such as this.

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