Story 1:

A few years ago, my parents were in Israel on a trip run by United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism. On Shabbat morning in Jerusalem, as my father entered a shul, he was greeted by a woman who read his name tag, and asked, "Are you the Sidney Pachter from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania?" Answering that he was indeed, the woman then proceeded to say, "I was on your front porch the day your father died."

While you think about the tearful reunion that ensued between my father and this woman, let me give you the background to this story.

My grandfather died at age 32, when my father was not quite 2 years old. This woman was a friend of my father’s older sister, my aunt Florence, and she apparently spent a lot of time at my father’s house. This woman eventually grew up, married and made aliyah. And she just happens to be the greeter at the same synagogue that my father, wearing a name tag, entered on a particular Shabbat morning in Jerusalem.

Story 2:

At age 13, I first attended summer camp at Ramah, the camping arm of Conservative Judaism. Ramah has eleven overnight and day camps in North America (many which are inclusive of special needs) plus a network of programs in Israel. Growing up in Grand Rapids, I would have been directed to Ramah in Canada. However, in the summer of 1972 there were no available spots for me, so instead I attended the Ramah overnight camp in Wisconsin.

Ramah is a powerful experience, which leaves life long memories. Having been a camper for two years and later a counselor for two years (in Canada) made a strong impression on my Jewish identity and also welcomed me into a loving extended family of thousands of Ramah alumni who share my memories.

I was delighted, though not shocked to discover that one of my Ramah friends from nearly forty years ago, lives nearby and has attended services at B’nai Moshe. More significantly, the son of my newly reclaimed Ramah friend has become my student at the Frankel Jewish Academy. Father and son have participated in our daily minyan, complete with tallit and tefillin.

These two stories reflect on how unpredictable and predictable life can be. On one hand, it seems so random that my father and I both have run into people we haven’t seen in many years. What if my father didn’t take that trip to Israel? What if he wasn’t wearing a name tag? What if he entered a different synagogue that Shabbat, or no synagogue at all? What if the woman had stayed home that Shabbat with a cold?

And what if I had never attended Camp Ramah, or never moved to Metro Detroit? What if my old Ramah friend had also not moved here, or not sent his son to the Jewish Academy? These reunions that we experienced were dependent on a variety of factors.

But there is also predictability to all of this. People who go to Israel and Camp Ramah, who attend synagogues and Jewish schools, are more than likely to increase the odds of having similar encounters. Those who embrace Judaism will create meaningful lasting memories, and will add their personal stories to the exciting and ongoing story of the eternal Jewish people.