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Mourners embrace during a processional for the funeral of Joyce Fienberg, one of 11 Jews killed while praying at Pittsburgh's Tree of Life Synagogue in 2018. Photo by Salwan Georges/The Washington Post via Getty Images

Justice, Justice Shalt Thou Pursue

Marking the three-year anniversary of the day a hate-filled madman shot and killed 11 people at the Tree of Life synagogue "because they joined together as Jews to pray to God," Pittsburgh residents gathered outside Wednesday near a grove of trees planted to honor those lost to "remember the incredible power in being stronger together," and stronger than hate. The deadliest attack against Jews in American history, said Joe Biden, serves as a grim reminder that, "Hate never goes away, it only hides; and if we give hate oxygen, it can consume." May their memories be a blessing.

Marking the three-year anniversary of the day a hate-filled madman shot and killed 11 people at the Tree of Life synagogue "because they joined together as Jews to pray to God, read and study Torah, and celebrate Shabbat," Pittsburgh residents gathered Wednesday near a grove of trees planted in tribute to those lost - "It is a tree of life for those who hold fast to it" - to "remember the incredible power in being stronger together" and, echoing their determined mantra, "stronger than hate." The Oct. 27, 2018 massacre, the deadliest attack against Jews in American history, prompted a huge wave of diverse support for a community that, even as it worked to heal, vowed they would henceforth go forward to, "Remember. Repair. Together." In honor of the day, Joe Biden issued a statement recalling "a peaceful Shabbat morning" whose violence "stole the lives of 11 souls in prayer." The assault, he said, "was a reminder that hate never goes away, it only hides; and if we give hate oxygen, it can consume." Eleven people from three congregations holding services - Tree of Life/Or L'Simcha, New Light and Dor Hadash - were killed. They were Rose Mallinger, 97, Melvin Wax, 87, Sylvan and Bernice Simon, 86 and 84, Joyce Fienberg, 75, Daniel Stein, 71, Irving Younger, 69, Jerry Rabinowitz, 66, Richard Gottfried, 65, and brothers Cecil and David Rosenthal, 59 and 54. May their memories be a blessing.

From Michael Simms, a poet who lives in Pittsburgh:

When the young man wearing a yarmulke 
Asks Excuse me sir are you Jewish?
I want to say yes
I've studied history and know
Something about suffering
But that's not what he means.
He's trying to find ten men 
For a minyan 
At Rodef Shalom down the street
 
And when the young man carrying a bible
Asks Have you heard the Good News?
I want to say Yes!  The cherry trees are blossoming!
And when he asks Have you been saved?
I want to say Yes!  I've been saved by poetry  From a childhood of abuse  And humiliation -- That's a kind of miracle Isn't it?
 
But I know 
He wants to know
Whether I've accepted Jesus 
Into my heart and there's the rub
Because my heart is so small
And Jesus is so big
 
When I walk into a cathedral 
My heart sings, when I walk 
Into a forest the trees sing
And when I walk down the street
The homeless man on the sidewalk
Puts his whole heart into the ukulele
Oh Susanna we are saved
It is springtime in Pittsburgh
And in America
 
My friend Rashid is an atheist
Because his mother was killed by a bomb.
His father died unhappy and his sister
Has moved to Australia. Rashid blames
All his tragedies on religion 
And he may be right.
We all have our tragedies
And maybe God is to blame.
What do I know?
 
Well, I know this much:
Anyone who has grown a garden, raised a child
Or looked at the sky far from a city
Knows the truth. So, yes, I'm a believer
In the Big Dark, the Ur-unknown,
The sense that my little mind
Is part of the Big Mind
I'll never know
 
But I have to say
God, like a lazy cop,
Never seems to be around 
When you need Him
 
Somewhere a soldier is beating a boy
For throwing stones. Somewhere
A priest is raping a child.
Somewhere a girl in a marketplace
Has a bomb strapped to her chest.
 
My friend and her mother
Were in the Tree of Life synagogue
When a man who hated immigrants
Pushed through the door of their faith 
With an automatic rifle.
You know the rest.

For Arlene Weiner and Philip Terman Michael Simms is the founder and editor of Vox Populi. His latest collections of poems American Ash and Nightjar are both published by Ragged Sky. Copyright 2020 Michael Simms.
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Marking the three-year anniversary of the day a hate-filled madman shot and killed 11 people at the Tree of Life synagogue "because they joined together as Jews to pray to God, read and study Torah, and celebrate Shabbat," Pittsburgh residents gathered Wednesday near a grove of trees planted in tribute to those lost - "It is a tree of life for those who hold fast to it" - to "remember the incredible power in being stronger together" and, echoing their determined mantra, "stronger than hate." The Oct. 27, 2018 massacre, the deadliest attack against Jews in American history, prompted a huge wave of diverse support for a community that, even as it worked to heal, vowed they would henceforth go forward to, "Remember. Repair. Together." In honor of the day, Joe Biden issued a statement recalling "a peaceful Shabbat morning" whose violence "stole the lives of 11 souls in prayer." The assault, he said, "was a reminder that hate never goes away, it only hides; and if we give hate oxygen, it can consume." Eleven people from three congregations holding services - Tree of Life/Or L'Simcha, New Light and Dor Hadash - were killed. They were Rose Mallinger, 97, Melvin Wax, 87, Sylvan and Bernice Simon, 86 and 84, Joyce Fienberg, 75, Daniel Stein, 71, Irving Younger, 69, Jerry Rabinowitz, 66, Richard Gottfried, 65, and brothers Cecil and David Rosenthal, 59 and 54. May their memories be a blessing.

From Michael Simms, a poet who lives in Pittsburgh:

When the young man wearing a yarmulke 
Asks Excuse me sir are you Jewish?
I want to say yes
I've studied history and know
Something about suffering
But that's not what he means.
He's trying to find ten men 
For a minyan 
At Rodef Shalom down the street
 
And when the young man carrying a bible
Asks Have you heard the Good News?
I want to say Yes!  The cherry trees are blossoming!
And when he asks Have you been saved?
I want to say Yes!  I've been saved by poetry  From a childhood of abuse  And humiliation -- That's a kind of miracle Isn't it?
 
But I know 
He wants to know
Whether I've accepted Jesus 
Into my heart and there's the rub
Because my heart is so small
And Jesus is so big
 
When I walk into a cathedral 
My heart sings, when I walk 
Into a forest the trees sing
And when I walk down the street
The homeless man on the sidewalk
Puts his whole heart into the ukulele
Oh Susanna we are saved
It is springtime in Pittsburgh
And in America
 
My friend Rashid is an atheist
Because his mother was killed by a bomb.
His father died unhappy and his sister
Has moved to Australia. Rashid blames
All his tragedies on religion 
And he may be right.
We all have our tragedies
And maybe God is to blame.
What do I know?
 
Well, I know this much:
Anyone who has grown a garden, raised a child
Or looked at the sky far from a city
Knows the truth. So, yes, I'm a believer
In the Big Dark, the Ur-unknown,
The sense that my little mind
Is part of the Big Mind
I'll never know
 
But I have to say
God, like a lazy cop,
Never seems to be around 
When you need Him
 
Somewhere a soldier is beating a boy
For throwing stones. Somewhere
A priest is raping a child.
Somewhere a girl in a marketplace
Has a bomb strapped to her chest.
 
My friend and her mother
Were in the Tree of Life synagogue
When a man who hated immigrants
Pushed through the door of their faith 
With an automatic rifle.
You know the rest.

For Arlene Weiner and Philip Terman Michael Simms is the founder and editor of Vox Populi. His latest collections of poems American Ash and Nightjar are both published by Ragged Sky. Copyright 2020 Michael Simms.
Keep reading...Show less

Marking the three-year anniversary of the day a hate-filled madman shot and killed 11 people at the Tree of Life synagogue "because they joined together as Jews to pray to God, read and study Torah, and celebrate Shabbat," Pittsburgh residents gathered Wednesday near a grove of trees planted in tribute to those lost - "It is a tree of life for those who hold fast to it" - to "remember the incredible power in being stronger together" and, echoing their determined mantra, "stronger than hate." The Oct. 27, 2018 massacre, the deadliest attack against Jews in American history, prompted a huge wave of diverse support for a community that, even as it worked to heal, vowed they would henceforth go forward to, "Remember. Repair. Together." In honor of the day, Joe Biden issued a statement recalling "a peaceful Shabbat morning" whose violence "stole the lives of 11 souls in prayer." The assault, he said, "was a reminder that hate never goes away, it only hides; and if we give hate oxygen, it can consume." Eleven people from three congregations holding services - Tree of Life/Or L'Simcha, New Light and Dor Hadash - were killed. They were Rose Mallinger, 97, Melvin Wax, 87, Sylvan and Bernice Simon, 86 and 84, Joyce Fienberg, 75, Daniel Stein, 71, Irving Younger, 69, Jerry Rabinowitz, 66, Richard Gottfried, 65, and brothers Cecil and David Rosenthal, 59 and 54. May their memories be a blessing.

From Michael Simms, a poet who lives in Pittsburgh:

When the young man wearing a yarmulke 
Asks Excuse me sir are you Jewish?
I want to say yes
I've studied history and know
Something about suffering
But that's not what he means.
He's trying to find ten men 
For a minyan 
At Rodef Shalom down the street
 
And when the young man carrying a bible
Asks Have you heard the Good News?
I want to say Yes!  The cherry trees are blossoming!
And when he asks Have you been saved?
I want to say Yes!  I've been saved by poetry  From a childhood of abuse  And humiliation -- That's a kind of miracle Isn't it?
 
But I know 
He wants to know
Whether I've accepted Jesus 
Into my heart and there's the rub
Because my heart is so small
And Jesus is so big
 
When I walk into a cathedral 
My heart sings, when I walk 
Into a forest the trees sing
And when I walk down the street
The homeless man on the sidewalk
Puts his whole heart into the ukulele
Oh Susanna we are saved
It is springtime in Pittsburgh
And in America
 
My friend Rashid is an atheist
Because his mother was killed by a bomb.
His father died unhappy and his sister
Has moved to Australia. Rashid blames
All his tragedies on religion 
And he may be right.
We all have our tragedies
And maybe God is to blame.
What do I know?
 
Well, I know this much:
Anyone who has grown a garden, raised a child
Or looked at the sky far from a city
Knows the truth. So, yes, I'm a believer
In the Big Dark, the Ur-unknown,
The sense that my little mind
Is part of the Big Mind
I'll never know
 
But I have to say
God, like a lazy cop,
Never seems to be around 
When you need Him
 
Somewhere a soldier is beating a boy
For throwing stones. Somewhere
A priest is raping a child.
Somewhere a girl in a marketplace
Has a bomb strapped to her chest.
 
My friend and her mother
Were in the Tree of Life synagogue
When a man who hated immigrants
Pushed through the door of their faith 
With an automatic rifle.
You know the rest.

For Arlene Weiner and Philip Terman Michael Simms is the founder and editor of Vox Populi. His latest collections of poems American Ash and Nightjar are both published by Ragged Sky. Copyright 2020 Michael Simms.
Keep reading...Show less
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