From JuJu with Love

As I walked out of services tonight, one phrase kept repeating in my mind and in my heart:

Silver lining.

The past twenty-four hours have been emotional for our temple community. There has been fear, anger, and a lot of tears as we process what happened and what could have happened.

But tonight, surrounded by my temple family and an incredible outpouring of support from the broader community, I kept coming back to that phrase.

Because in the middle of something so frightening, there was also something incredibly powerful: the silver lining of community.

There were tears tonight.

There was anger.

There was fear about what could have happened.

But there was also something incredibly powerful: community.

Our services were held at the Chaldean Center, which opened its doors to us with generosity and compassion. Sitting there together — Jews and neighbors who simply wanted to support us — was profoundly moving.

People hugged each other.

We cried together.

And again and again I heard the same words: “We are so grateful everyone is safe.”

One rabbi told a story that stopped the room cold. During the evacuation, a good samaritan who lives in the subdivision next to our synagogue saw teachers ushering children away from the building and invited them to hide in his garage. Several teachers and forty children went with him.

At the time, all the clergy knew was that 40 children were missing. Our rabbi admitted that his first thought was almost unbearable: How many little funerals are we going to have to officiate?

Later they learned those children were safe — hidden in a neighbor’s garage by someone who simply wanted to help.

The rabbi shared something else that stopped the room.

When the sprinkler system went off inside the synagogue, the water soaked everything. Our prayer books were ruined. The beautiful seats in our sanctuary were destroyed.

Even the rabbis couldn’t wear their tallitot (prayer shawls) during services because they all smelled like smoke.

But in the middle of that devastation, something miraculous happened.

A security guard and our building manager went into the building and brought out the Torah scrolls.

Every single one of them was saved.

Every single one was intact.

In that moment we were reminded of something important.

Temple Israel is much more than a building.

The sanctuary will be repaired. The prayer books can be replaced. The seats can be rebuilt.

But what truly makes Temple Israel what it is cannot be damaged by smoke or water.

It is our amazing clergy.

It is the 3,000 families who make up our congregation.

It is the community that showed up for each other this week with tears, hugs, prayers, and gratitude.

Our building will be rebuilt.

And when we return, we will come back stronger than ever.

Because in the end, one truth remains:

Love is stronger than hate.

Many of our Michigan leaders came to stand with us — including Elissa Slotkin, Noah Arbit, Haley Stevens, and Michael Bouchard — along with members of law enforcement, security teams, clergy, and countless community members.

Their presence mattered.

In the face of something so frightening, what stood out most tonight was the outpouring of love and solidarity.

My phone has been ringing all day with friends from around the world checking on me.

Our clergy and temple staff are supporting one another.

Our elected officials and first responders stood beside us tonight.

Our temple family is enormous.

And tonight, it felt like the whole community wrapped its arms around us.

The tragedy is real, and the emotions are raw.

But the silver lining is this:

We are not alone.

We are supported.

And our community is stronger than hate.

From Juju with love 💙