There is a lesson Scripture teaches over and over again: wisdom requires discernment before action.
Good stewards do not make permanent decisions in moments of fear. They seek counsel. They gather the facts. They ask difficult questions. And only then do they move forward.
That lesson has been on my heart as I watch Brooklyn face one of the most consequential health care decisions in generations.
As a pastor, I have prayed with mothers waiting outside operating rooms. I have stood beside families receiving devastating news from physicians. I have celebrated newborns entering the world and comforted loved ones saying their final goodbyes.
When you serve the people of Brooklyn long enough, you come to know Maimonides Medical Center not simply as a hospital, but as sacred ground.
For more than 100 years, it has been one of the institutions that has quietly held this borough together.
That is why the proposal to permanently transfer Maimonides from an independent nonprofit hospital into the NYC Health + Hospitals system deserves far more scrutiny than it has received.
Let me be clear.
This is not an argument against change.
Nor is it an argument against public hospitals, whose dedicated doctors, nurses, and staff provide extraordinary care every day.
It is an argument against making an irreversible decision before we know whether it is truly the only path available.
Brooklyn has learned the painful cost of that mistake before.
Many of us still remember Long Island College Hospital.
We were told the community would be protected. We were assured health care services would remain. Yet, after years of promises, Brooklyn lost one of its historic hospitals, and much of that property ultimately became luxury condominiums.
The hospital never came back.
The promises could not bring it back.
That experience changed how many Brooklynites hear assurances from government and institutional leaders. When people tell us today, “Trust us. This is the only way,” we remember what happened the last time we heard words like those.
This is not the time for blind faith.
And while history may not repeat itself exactly, wisdom demands that we learn from it.
No one disputes that Maimonides faces serious financial challenges. Those challenges are real.
But financial distress is not the same thing as financial impossibility.
Everything we have heard suggests there are legitimate questions about whether stronger management, operational modernization, improved billing systems, new leadership, strategic partnerships, or affiliation with another nonprofit health system could stabilize Maimonides while allowing it to remain an independent community institution.
But those possibilities have not all been carefully studied and ruled out — so why are we rushing toward a permanent transfer?
The answer to poor management should not automatically be surrendering a community asset.
Before Brooklyn gives away one of its most important charitable institutions, we deserve an independent review that honestly evaluates every realistic alternative.
That should not be controversial.
In fact, that is exactly what good stewardship requires.
The courts have already determined that this proposal cannot bypass the public review process required under New York law. State law also requires a Health Equity Impact Assessment because decisions like these affect medically underserved and culturally distinct communities in profound ways.
Those safeguards are not bureaucratic obstacles.
They are protections for the people.
They exist because hospitals are different from almost every other institution.
Once a hospital is gone — or fundamentally transformed — it is extraordinarily difficult to restore what was lost.
Maimonides serves one of the most beautifully diverse communities anywhere in America.
Every day, it cares for Orthodox Jewish families who have depended on its cultural understanding and religious accommodations for generations. It serves Muslim families, Latino communities, Caribbean Americans, Asian Americans, Russian-speaking residents, immigrants, and families from every corner of the world who have made Brooklyn their home.
It also serves thousands upon thousands of Black New Yorkers.
For generations, African American families have depended on Maimonides in moments that define a lifetime.
As pastors, we know its hallways well.
We have rushed there after late-night phone calls telling us that a church member had suffered a heart attack. We have prayed over victims of violence. We have sat with anxious families waiting for surgery to end. We have dedicated children who took their first breath there and comforted families whose last earthly moments with a loved one took place within those walls.
Our churches have long viewed Maimonides as more than a health care provider.
It has been a trusted partner in caring for our congregations.
That kind of trust cannot be recreated by a government resolution.
It is earned over generations.
And once it is broken, rebuilding it may take generations more.
No one should fear an independent audit.
No one should fear a transparent evaluation of every available option.
If an independent analysis ultimately concludes that joining NYC Health + Hospitals is the only realistic path to preserving health care in this community, then I will accept that conclusion because it will have been reached honestly, transparently, and with the public fully informed.
But if another path exists — one that preserves both the hospital and its independence — we owe it to every family in Brooklyn to discover that before we make a decision that cannot be undone.
The question before us is not simply who owns a hospital.
The question is whether Brooklyn has learned from its own history.
Long Island College Hospital taught us that once a community institution disappears, regret cannot rebuild it.
Let us not wait until years from now to wonder whether we asked enough questions.
Let us seek the truth now.
Let us examine every alternative.
And let us leave our children a stronger Maimonides than the one we inherited — not another story about the hospital Brooklyn once had.
Before we permanently change the future of Maimonides, let us do what every good physician does: slow down, gather all the facts, seek a second opinion, and make the right diagnosis before prescribing a treatment that cannot be undone.
