The Tree of Life synagogue is 17 blocks from my office—a quiet, beautiful stroll on tree-lined streets past parks and upper middle-class homes. It looks nothing like a kill zone.

My family loved playing baseball, so we played lots of it: T-ball, coach-pitch, Little League, pony, colt, and super colt. As my two boys reached Little League age, we realized that the suburban leagues near us would penalize our kids for opting out of Sunday practices and games. The city leagues on Pittsburgh’s east side, however, included a significant number of Jewish people in league administration and coaching. They respected anyone who had a Sabbath conviction, even for a different day.

Respect carried over to how coaches treated players, to how fans cheered, and to how they spoke to umpires. Games became community gatherings of a hodgepodge of people who wouldn’t otherwise have spent time together. There was no pretense that we were all the same; we were from different classes, ethnicities, races, religions, and vocations. Yet there was a basic respect and concern for all, and typically it was Jewish leaders and coaches setting the tone.

Several years ago, Dr. C.J. Williams and Patrick Marx arranged for a group of about 10 RP Seminary students to observe a service at Tree of Life synagogue and to enjoy a fellowship meal there afterward. They received a very warm welcome and had a wonderful time of observation and discussion. No doubt some of the same congregants who welcomed this delegation from the seminary were sitting in that synagogue when the gunman burst in Oct. 27 and killed 11 people.

We’ve met many people in east Pittsburgh who live in harmony with people with whom they have vehement disagreements. They know how to show respect and love to outsiders and to welcome them as insiders. They know how to be hospitable. As we try to practice similar graces, we can learn from peaceable people who already demonstrate those graces. And, at the same time, we have something very special and very important to share.

Reformed Presbyterians have spent considerable time in Squirrel Hill, the area of Pittsburgh where Tree of Life synagogue is located. With a high concentration of Jewish people as well as its proximity to universities, Squirrel Hill is one of the most diverse areas of the city. My congregation has spent many hours on the streets of the business area handing out tracts, starting discussions, and sharing the gospel. In the 1980s, RPs led a Bible study in Squirrel Hill that ran for several years but never grew into the hoped-for congregation. RP Seminary students and RP mission teams have also spent time reaching out in Squirrel Hill. My family, in the course of outreach events and everyday conversations like baseball games, has had the privilege of sharing the gospel to Jews and other people in that close-knit community.

We know that the gospel of life has gone out there, and and that gives us comfort and hope amidst grief and pain. We have seen the gospel triumph in individual lives there! Evil, even when it achieves temporal success, falls far short of its imaginations and even sows seeds leading to its downfall. The gospel, on the other hand, succeeds even with tiny successes in growing into a massive and marvelous tree of life (see Mark 4:30–32).