One of the clearest recent examples of loving one’s neighbor emerged after the horrific shooting of the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh a few years ago. The gunman had been wounded in the gun fight after the massacre. When they brought him into the Allegheny General Hospital, he was still yelling anti–Semitic curses. Then a man in a white coat approached him and said, “I am Dr. Jeffrey Cohen. I’m here to take care of you.” He was president of the hospital.

As Dr. Cohen later explained, “We are here to take care of people who need our help.” It was a radical demonstration of humanity, far more powerful than caring for one’s own.

A person of insatiable curiosity, the doctor took a special interest in the shooter, a 46–year–old high school dropout who had few friends. The physician perceived someone incapable of generating his own hate but capable of absorbing it from others. Without dismissing what the gunman did, Dr. Cohen said, “He is just a guy. He’s not the face of evil.” He believed the gunman was alone, hearing noise in his own head that would not stop.

An FBI agent watched how Dr. Cohen greeted the shooter, sat down next to him, talked to him and tried to understand him, and then how he handed him off to the medical team to dress the man’s wounds. The agent said, “I don’t think I could have done what you just did.” Dr. Cohen nodded in understanding; and he did it anyway.

Where did Dr. Cohen learn this? At the Tree of Life synagogue, where he is a member. He lives across the street from the sanctuary, in the same neighborhood where Mister Rogers once lived. When he heard the gunfire from his house, he left immediately for the hospital, knowing someone would need help.