The other day, I was driving through the Greengate neighborhood when I passed by the Moses Montefiore Anshe Emunah Hebrew Congregation. For those of us who grew up in this area, that shul was, and always will be, in our minds, Liberty Jewish Center.

Driving by, I couldn’t help but notice the prominent stone monument in front of the synagogue’s parking lot, designating the area the “Rabbi Jacob A. Max Torah Campus.” I wasn’t looking for it, but there it was, a proud and bold homage to the congregation’s rabbi emeritus.

It all would seem quite innocuous if one didn’t know all of the facts.

A couple of months ago, Rabbi Max, as most of you undoubtedly already know, was convicted, at age 85, of sexual molestation. Since news reports first surfaced of the conviction, a sizable number of women have called the Baltimore Jewish Times office, to report their less-than-honorable interactions and memories over the years with Rabbi Max.

Now I understand that the folks at Liberty Jewish Center feel a sense of allegiance and loyalty (and rachmones) to Rabbi Max. After all, he was their spiritual leader and life force for more than five decades. His smiles, his words of comfort and guidance, served congregants at their highest peaks and lowest valleys, and that can never be forgotten. He was there for them.

But at the same time, we must never forget the pain, humiliation and self-loathing of those who have suffered at the hands of people who have this compulsion or disease or disorder, or whatever you want to call it, that seems to be rampant in our society (and yes, even in the Jewish world). Their needs and comfort levels must be remembered, too.

So I say this as someone whose wedding was officiated by Rabbi Max, and whose family was always touched by this complicated man at virtually all of our simchas and sorrows. I say this as someone who spoke at Rabbi Max’s retirement gala. To borrow very loosely from the late President Reagan regarding his line on the Berlin Wall (“Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!”), I say, “LJC, remove that stone! Please.”

I’m sure this is an exceedingly difficult, painful, awkward and confusing time for the congregation. That’s understood. But the healing must begin, at once, and taking away that in-your-face reminder is a first step. I hope that the synagogue’s elders will not tarry on this matter. There is a time to “committee” things endlessly, and a time to quietly and quickly take care of a situation.

Now is a time for the latter.