In Memory of Nemanja Petrovic

I learned this week about the death of my friend, Nemanja Petrovic. Nemi had become part of our family when he came to the US as a high school exchange student 17 years ago. At almost 7 feet tall, you couldn't miss him. He had come here to escape the civil war in Yugoslavia and play Division I basketball. He intially played at U of Maryland, see his stats page, but played most of his career at St. Joe's in Philadelphia. He was the team's rebound leader when the team went to the NCAA Sweet 16 and the recipient of numerous awards and academic honors. Most of all, Nemanja was a giant mentsch.

Nemanja lived with Elizabeth's aunt Pat and uncle Marc in the Philly suburbs before they ever had children. When they adopted Melissa, Nemi was there from the first day and has been her big brother ever since. Because of the war in Yugoslavia, Nemi didn't have much opportunity to go home or visit his family for long stretches. He was with us for all holidays and family occasions. He was part of our wedding party in 1995 and like a cousin in every way. When his brother, Darko, moved to the US shortly after him, we had our own family version of the "wild and crazy guys."

Nemanja was 34 years old. He is survived by his brother Darko and sister-in-law Clementina, his parents, Rada and Golub, his sister Melissa, and all the members of the Davis and Siegle families who had "adopted" him in the US.

I don't believe there are theological lessons to learn from Nemanja's death. I don't believe things like this happen for a reason - certainly no divine or religious reasons. I do believe simply that we can find meaning in the things that happen and the relationships that we build in our lives. Nemanja overcame obstacles and made lemons out of lemonade. Injuries kept him from reaching the heights that recruiters held out for him as a high school student, but he took the opportunity to learn as much as he could, to meet everyone he could, to play as hard as he could, and that always brought him success. Nemanja was a great brother and a great friend. From him, we learn what it means to grow close to people, support them, work with them, and grow with them. There's too much to say about a guy like Nemi. He lived a short 34 years but gave all of us who knew him a lifetime of inspiration. We miss him every day.

See Darko and Nemanja's page from GL Trade.

Read more about Nemi (obit published by the A10 Athletic Conference and this obit by St. Joe's).

On Things Not Seen...

My recent Florida vacation provided a weekend to reflect on the power of things desired but not seen. Checking in to the hotel, we immediately noticed a preponderance of religious Jews – beards, fedoras, sheidls, and Yiddish. The daily activity board listed the Lag B’Omer wedding of Sarah Rivkah and Yehezkiel Michael, Harry’s Bar Mitzvah, the Geula Living Conference, and several other events. The wedding would start that evening with a bedecken ceremony: the groom’s chance to see his bride’s face before marriage. This tradition hearkens back to the biblical account of Jacob’s first wedding. Having failed to check under the veil, Jacob had been tricked into marrying Leah instead of his beloved Rachel. Jewish tradition has urged grooms to see for themselves ever since.

On the second day, we had trouble getting our car from valet as three white, Secret Service-type SUVs filled the entry drive. Barack Obama was coming to - or already inside - the hotel! Sure enough, protesters had been stationed at the bottom of each driveway: “Obama – Bad for the Jews” and “Don’t Count on Us if you Don’t Count our Vote!” Nobody would confirm or deny his presence and we could not actually see him anywhere. However, a reporter from the Chicago Tribune had just checked in and told us the campaign usually housed him in the same hotel as the candidate. Sometimes Senator Obama strolls the lobby to meet and greet guests after his speaking engagements. My sons were hell-bent on seeing him. Secret service agents would cluster. The boys would pick up the scent. We’d move toward their spot. No sign of Obama. We couldn’t see him even if all evidence indicated he was there.

It was exactly the subject Obama came to address: the sense among Jews that we can’t see his kishke (gut) level commitment to Israel even if the evidence (like an AIPAC thumbs up) indicates he is a Zionist friend. Not seeing his kishkes makes us not trust him. That’s exactly what many Floridians had told The New York Times. Obama told Jeffrey Goldberg of The Atlantic Monthly he was surprised by this. He wished Jews could stop worrying about things not seen (and often not true) and embrace his candidacy. He needed to court the Jewish vote and win some hearts.

I was about to conclude that it just doesn’t work that way in our community. Not even the bride gets a free pass until she’s actually seen. Then I picked up some literature from the The Geula Living Convention, a program organized by Chabad’s Jewish Women United for the Redemption. It is one of the few cases where the unseen can elicit a higher level of trust and behavior than that which is seen. They believe the late Lubavitcher Rebbe was, in fact, the Messiah and we are now living in the time of the final redemption. Their conference included sessions on “The Rebbe as King Moshiach,” “Nullifying Negativity,” and one with a nutritionist on Eating Right for Redemption Living.

If only I could see Obama for a minute, I would tell him the secret: Don’t court Jews like a romance, claim messianic status. Don’t promise the redemption ("Yes We Can") assure them it already occurred ("Yes It Is").

It’s all about how you manage what is seen and what is not.

Note: This posting does not represent an endorsement or statement of support for any political candidate.... or messianic pretender.

Recovery: No Time Like the Present

I came out of a recent meeting about addiction and recovery among young Jewish men with one thought: call Jeffrey. He had become a close friend while I was working in a previous congregation. A nice Jewish boy with deep roots in the community, he was a crack addict in the years following his college graduation. Jeffrey took me to my first NA meeting and taught me much of what I know about helping addicts. Most importantly, he taught me to call for help when I needed it, to offer gratitude when I felt it, and to say "I love you" to people outside my family.

Jeffrey never wears a watch. He last wore one over a decade ago, but traded it for crack in a desperate area just beyond the runways of LAX airport. He barely remembers the day, the place, or the fix. He just remembers that he gave up his watch and almost died but somehow got home to the East Coast. He cleaned up shortly afterwards and never again put on a watch. It reminds him of what time really means. It reminds him to count each day as a blessing.

We are in the midst of counting the omer, the daily ritual of blessing and then counting the days and weeks between Passover and Shavuot. It's a count up from the liberation from Egypt to the commitment at Sinai. It's also a time to remember that each day matters; that our attention to the simple counting of a day is sacred. There are traditions that attach mystical meaning or layers of study to each day. I follow those traditions, but really I'm using this period to check in on the true measure of time, to ask for some help, say thanks, and tell a friend I love you.

The Blog's return

Sorry to all my regular readers. The blog has been on hiatus since May 1st. New postings will start up again this week.

Yom HaShoah is for Laughing...

A number of children (including my own) have told me how sad they feel around Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day). I always try to emphasize that this memorial is not just for tears and sadness. It is most important to emphasize our strength, our hope, and our future. In that spirit, I point you to this story of a Torah scroll that appeared in The New York Times on April 30th:

From Auschwitz, a Torah as Strong as its Spirit