Tapping into the Magic of Jewish Summer Camps

This week marked the midway point for many Jewish summer camps. A number of our youth returned from camp, while others embarked on their Jewish summer camp experience. Jewish camping as we know it began in the late 1890s as a way to provide children with a brief respite from industrialization. “By the late 1920s, Jewish summer camps had gotten explicitly ideological: socialist, communist, anarchist, Zionist, Yiddish,” writes Dan Nosowitz in his article The Evolving Ideologies of American Jewish Summer Camp.

“Zionist summer camps prepared kids to move to Palestine … [while] a socialist summer camp would have no individual money, and any packages a camper received from home would be divided equally to the rest of the camp. Labor was highly valued; a punishment for bad behavior would never be, say, cleaning the bathrooms, because bathroom duty was a noble and important role in the camp society.”

A 2011 report crunched the numbers and looked at the long-term influence of camps based on evidence from 26 studies on Jewish engagement. Among its findings:

Adults who are former campers are 55 per cent more likely to feel emotionally attached to Israel.

As adults, campers are 45 per cent more likely to attend synagogue at least once a month and 37 per cent more likely to light candles regularly for Shabbat.

And as adults, they are 30 per cent more likely to donate to a Jewish Federation.

From the study’s conclusion, “The impact of camp on Jewish community awareness should not come as a surprise. … The bonding experience of camp not only builds a long-lasting taste and yearning for community, it also creates habits of Jewish practice. It makes Judaism part and parcel of life’s most joyous moments. Moreover, those moments are experienced as integral parts of life in a beloved community.”

What is it about Jewish camps that make them so successful at instilling in children Jewish identities so deep that they last a lifetime? “Each camp has a very strong and intentional culture, camp by camp. Camp’s power to socialize young Jews — How do I be a Jew? How do I be a member of the Jewish community? — depends on this culture,” said Amy L. Sales, co-author with Leonard Saxe of How Goodly Are Thy Tents: Summer Camps as Jewish Socializing Experiences (Brandeis University Press, 2003). Culture encompasses everything, from how the Sabbath is observed to never deviating from grilled cheese on Mondays.

Why is camp so much more impactful in the lives of young people than most of the other activities in which they partake? Benjamin Kramarz suggested that camp effectively harnesses what anthropologists call “liminality,” the state of being in transition, the middle stage between one place and the next. While mainstream society mostly marginalizes and even suppresses liminality, pressuring us to “figure it out” and to decide who we are and what we stand for as quickly as possible, summer camp embraces and celebrates the in-between state, encouraging young people to openly explore themselves and the world around them.

Camp creates a whole new reality for young people, an alternate version of their lives that only exists between the months of June and August. In this space, everybody is between one grade and the next; everybody is in transition. This time, when children briefly lose their regularly assigned societal identity, is perfect for personal and communal transformation.

I think that the success of Jewish summer camps can serve as a model for other Jewish institutions, including shuls. By fostering a culture of ongoing religious growth, we can all tap into the liminality of our Jewish lives. Emphasizing community, valuing positive peer pressure, and valuing Jewish practice as both a part of our routine and yet something personally meaningful are just some of the ways we can seek to continue the positive impact of summer camp- once camp is over and once we age out of attending.

Message of the Mussaf

As technology and society has progressed in the 21^st century there seems to be an ever growing sense that every situation and every moment can be replicated, recreated or made up for.  First it was the introduction of Dolly the cloned sheep. This technology opened up a new niche market: cloning your pets. The idea behind cloning is that biological material can be replicated. A few years ago, scientists claimed that with the help of a state of the art particle accelerator they were able to replicate the moment immediately after the Big Bang. If that very early moment of the universe’s existence can be recreated, then presumably everything else can be replicated as well. Science has taken us on a journey that indicates that no moment is so unique that it cannot be replicated in a laboratory.

This attitude has spilled over into society and popular culture. Miss a test or forget to do your homework? Don’t worry, there will be a makeup. Lost sleep last night? Don’t worry, you can always make it up. Deadlines are constantly being extended because people just cannot fathom that something can actually pass by without being made up later.  

               

A rejection of this attitude can be found in the Torah’s description of the special Musaf sacrifice offered on Shabbat. The Torah tells us:

Olat Shabbat B’Shabbato:

The Sacrifice of each Shabbat must be offered on that Shabbat. The Midrash explains that I might have thought that all Shabbatot are the same. If I miss bringing the sacrifice this week, then I’ll just bring two next week. Comes the verse to tell us Olat Shabbat BeShabbato- there are no makeups. As the Siftei Chachamim explains, every Shabbat is a unique gift. It may seem like we are doing the same things each week, but in fact any given Shabbat can never be replicated. Although we no longer offer sacrifices today, this Midrashic idea finds expression in the halachot of the Mussaf prayer that we recite every Shabbat. The Halacha is that if you miss one of the prayer services, you can make it up by saying two Amidas the next time (ie if you miss Shacharit, you can say two Minchas, etc). This is called Tashlumin, based on the concept that existed by certain korbanot. However, the Halacha is that there is no Tashlumin for Mussaf. Once Shabbat ends, there is no makeup. Not Sunday, not the next Shabbat. I missed out and I have to live with that fact.

Judaism believes strongly in second chances: for instance, the example of teshuva. But the Korban Mussaf in this morning’s Parsha reminds us that contrary to the belief of some, there are things in life that cannot be replicated, cannot be made up, and if you miss them you’re out of luck. This is especially true with the moments of our lives. Time can never be made up (even for drivers who speed the last half of their trip to make better time.) We can’t go back in time. (alas, we have yet to discover the flux capacitor that enables at  1.21 gigawatts). Each moment is unique, each Shabbat is unique.  Let us recall the message of the Mussaf: some things in life cannot be replicated; they must be appreciated and savored while we have the opportunity.

2.2 million dollars. 4 days. 23,000 donors. One little girl. The story of two year old Eliana Cohen has gone viral. She was born with SMA Type 2, a rare genetic condition that prevents her from being able to stand or walk. A gene therapy was recently developed, called Zolgensma, which creates a gene that ensures she is able to breathe, eat and sit up on her own. At 2.2 million dollars for a single dose, it is the most expensive drug in the world. It was approved by the FDA only for babies under the age of 2 years. Due to a misdiagnosis at an early age, Eliana’s SMA Type 2 was only detected a month ago. Eliana was five days away from her second birthday when a crowdfunding campaign began.

                Within four days, 23,000 people had donated to the cause on the fundraising platform The Chesed Fund. At noon this past Monday, the goal was reached and the campaign was closed. In their thank you letter, her parents wrote, “Please continue to pray for Chana bat Shani (her name has been changed), as we still have a long way to go!”

This story reminds us of the very best elements of Jewish community. Many of those who donated did not know this little girl. They heard about this cause through “a friend of a friend” and the tight-knit nature of the Jewish community provided incredible results. This inspiring episode caused me to reevaluate one of Bilaam’s blessing in this morning’s Parsha.

In our Parsha, King Balak hired the great sorcerer Bilaam to curse the Jewish People. As hard as he tries, Hashem does not allow this to happen. Not only is Bilaam unable to curse them, but Hashem forces Bilaam to utter blessings about Bnei Yisrael- three times. In his first set of blessings Bilaam refers to the Jewish People as (23:9) “Behold! It is a nation that will dwell in solitude and not be reckoned among the nations.” Dwelling alone can seem lonely at times. But it has been the secret of our success and our continuity. The Jewish People have been unwilling to change our morals and values based on the current era or location. We turn to the Torah as our guide, even when it makes us unpopular or counter-cultural. We are a Light onto the Nations by wearing our distinctions as a badge of pride. As the nation who dwells alone we realize that we cannot rely on others for our survival. Rather we must rely on Hashem – and each other. This is why there are no “degrees of separation” between Jews. We are all family, whether we know each other or not.

I was recently learning with someone about the restriction of charging interest. I asked why interest should be forbidden: If we are allowed to rent our car for money and rent our house for money, then why can’t we rent our money for money? The answer we came to is that fundamentally I’m right. One should be able to rent their money for a profit. And in fact, you are allowed to charge a non-Jew interest (if charging interest was immoral we would not distinguish between Jews and non-Jews.) But that’s not how you treat family. And all of Klal Yisrael is family. Let us remember this reality, as we begin the Three Weeks period on the Jewish calendar, and as we constantly work on fostering a culture of caring within our community.

“Talking to a Rock: More Productive Than You Might Think”

Our Parsha contains the mysterious events that transpired at Mei Meriva. After Miriam dies, the people are complaining again- this time because there is no water. Hashem tells Moshe to take the staff – and speak to the rock. Instead Moshe hits the rock, and water miraculously flows forth. While the people are happy- Hashem is angry; angry because Moshe did not do as he was told (and Aharon is faulted too- for not stopping Moshe?) Moshe and Aharon are punished harshly- they are denied entry into the Promised Land. One of the mysteries surrounding this episode is the initial Divine command: What’s the deal with talking to a rock? Of all possible manners to miraculously provide water at this juncture, why does God decide that it should come about as a result of speaking to a stone?

                Rabbi Moshe Feinstein explained that this Divine command was meant to convey an important lesson for us all: Sometimes it feels like we’re talking to a rock. That our message is falling on deaf ears. Nonetheless we should appreciate the value in speaking up in these situations, for even when we speak to a rock water may flow forth- ie there may be some beneficial outcome.

                You see, even when we’re talking to a rock, our words can still strengthen our own resolve. A UCLA psychology study suggests that labeling one’s emotions at the precise moment one is confronting a fear, can make you less afraid and less anxious. 88 people who have a fear of spiders were divided into 4 groups and exposed to spiders- with the following instructions:

One group was told to express their feelings of anxiety and fear before touching the spider. A second group was told to use words that helped to make the situation less threatening, such as “this little spider can’t harm me”- the typical approach used for de-sensitization. A third group was told to say something irrelevant to the spider situation and the fourth group was instructed to say nothing. The group that had the most significant decrease in their fear of spiders was the group that put into words what it was they were feeling- to say it as they felt it, not as they wished they would see things.   

                The verb to pray in Hebrew, L’hitpallel, is a reflexive verb. It means that the impact of the action is felt by the person doing the action. Just like L’hitlabesh means to get oneself dressed. Tefillah is an important exercise in self-reflection: When we verbalize words of prayer we are confronted with questions such as, “Do I believe what I am saying?”  “Are my values consistent with those I am expressing in my tefilot- and if not, how do I feel about that?”

                The same thing occurs when we speak to others. When we talk to/ yell at our kids to be more attentive or respectful- even if they are not listening to what we are saying, we need to be listening to what we are saying and be asking ourselves, “Are we modeling the behaviors and values that we’d like to see in our children, or friends, or co-workers?” Or are we in some way contributing to the behaviors and attitudes that we are verbally protesting against?

                Hashem told Moshe to speak to the rock and it will flow forth water. From this story we learn that Hashem challenges us to speak up, even if it feels like we’re talking to a rock. For even if the rock cannot hear us, we need to hear ourselves. If we appreciate the importance of speaking up, even to a rock, may Hashem in turn hear our voices and bless our efforts.

Inspiring Others, Inspiring Ourselves

One of the perplexing questions that emerges from this morning’s Parsha is: In what way was Korach mistaken? We read how Korach challenges Moshe and Aharon with the following statement:

"You take too much upon yourselves, for the entire congregation are all holy, and the Lord is in their midst. So why do you raise yourselves above the Lord's assembly?"

Korach’s specific complaint was regarding Aharon’s elevation as Kohen Gadol, a position of which he was envious. Korach’s larger complaint was the very notion of Jewish leadership: For if every Jew is holy, then why are there any positions of leadership within the Jewish community?

In some important ways, Korach is correct. It is fundamental to Jewish thought that all Jews are holy; we each possess a Divine spark in our souls. If that is the case, then one can legitimately question the need for leadership within the Jewish People.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe explained that Korach’s challenge is predicated on a mistaken understanding of the role of a Jewish leader. The primary role of a leader is help people get more in touch with their Divine spark. In short, the job of a leader is to inspire people to inspire themselves. It’s true that every individual has the potential for holiness. But many of those same people cannot get in touch with that holy potential. Even those who are spiritually sensitive enough to bring holiness into their lives, still may need help to optimize that experience and maximize that potential for kedusha. It is the job of leaders to actualize that potential and to bring out the best in others.

And although not all of us can be leaders on the scale of Moshe or Aharon, each of us has the ability to be a Jewish leader within his/her realm of impact and sphere of influence. The Lubavitcher Rebbe (who passed away 25 years ago today, the 3^rd of Tammuz) was fond of retelling the Chasidic saying “if you only know aleph (first letter of the Hebrew alphabet) - then teach aleph!” We all have something to teach others, and we can serve in a leadership role, for some people in some setting. Whether it is within our family, our neighborhood, our office or our shul, let us learn from the mistake of Korach and proudly wear the mantle of leaders. Let us do so by serving as positive peer pressure for others and by encouraging and validating their efforts at inspiring themselves.

This past week, I convened our annual meeting with Rabbi and Sara Frieberg to review the previous programming year and begin planning for 5780. As part of these meetings we focus on both concrete plans as well as questions that are meant to be thought-provoking (even if we cannot definitively answer them). One of the questions I posed was: How can we inspire more people; how can we inspire people more? Our conclusions were that 1) different people are inspired by different things, 2) while big events and gestures can be memorable, long-lasting inspiration comes from the accumulation of small gestures, interactions and experiences that have a cumulative inspirational effect, and 3) one of the most important things Rabbis and community leaders can do is inspire people to take advantage of the opportunities that exist for inspiration.

Let us learn from Korach’s mistake by both stepping up and being leaders when we can inspire others, while also doing the hard work of inspiring ourselves.

Lessons from Entebbe

July 4th marks the 43^rd anniversary of Operation Entebbe. On June 27, 1976 an Air France flight from Tel Aviv to Paris was hijacked after a stopover in Athens. The 247 passengers and 12 crew members were flown to Entebbe, Uganda. The hijackers were from a breakaway faction of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. The situation took a dark and ominous turn when soon after arriving at Entebbe, the non-Israeli passengers were separated from the Israelis, and then released. Besides the Israelis and the crew, all other Jews on the plane were also kept hostage, even if they were not Israeli nationals. (Remember this the next time someone makes the ridiculous claim that being anti-Zionistic is not the same as being anti-Semitic.)

Back in Israel plans for the rescue mission were being devised. The military officer in charge of planning this mission was Ehud Barak, who would later become Prime Minister of Israel.  The Prime Minister at the time, Yitzchak Rabin, was under tremendous pressure to ensure the safe release of the hostages – even if it meant negotiating with terrorists. PM Rabin finally gave the orders to embark on the rescue mission. The actual mission is the stuff of movies- in fact, three different movies.

The rescue mission was a success. All of the hijackers were killed, 102 hostages freed. But one Israeli soldier was killed during the operation- Yoni Netanyahu.  Soon the phone would ring in the home of Yoni’s brother, a young man then called Ben Nitay. Ben was studying in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The career shift of Yoni’s brother, current Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is the most visible legacy of that mission, but the impact of Entebbe is felt in other ways too. The PLO stopped hijacking planes and Idi Amin was overthrown, both results can be traced back to the Entebbe mission. The US military man in charge of the operation to capture and kill Osama bin Laden in 2011 was Admiral William McRaven, the author of a detailed study of the raid on Entebbe.

There are many lessons that emerge from Operation Entebbe. For us on Shabbat Parshat Shelach, two of those lessons stand out:

First, the Entebbe mission teaches us that enemies of Israel may be able to hurt and impede us, but nothing and no-one can prevent Jewish destiny from being realized. This was the mistake of the spies. After travelling the land, 10 of the 12 spies came back with negative reports about the Land of Israel. If we look closely at what they report, it is possible that their report is all factually correct. The inhabitants of the land were indeed giants. The cities were in fact fortified.  And yes, it was going to be hard to conquer the Land. But even though they may have been right about all of these details, the spies were still wrong- in their unwillingness to factor into their equation the Hand of God and Jewish destiny. As ben Gurion once quipped, “In Israel, in order to be a realist you must believe in miracles.”

Second, the Entebbe rescue mission demonstrated Israeli risk taking and initiative. As one military analyst noted, the fact that the Entebbe mission was a success was not surprising; the Ugandans were outmatched in all ways according to all opinions. What was impressive was the “guts” demonstrated by Israeli leadership in ordering the command to do the right thing and get the job done. This is the lesson that we can learn from Yehoshua and Kalev in our Parsha. These two spies understood the role of Divine intervention and Jewish destiny. They are forever remembered for their willingness to show the courage and resolve to speak up and to say what was unpopular and what most people did not want to hear (neither their fellow spies nor Bnai Yisrael).

Let us take a moment this July 4^th to remember the lessons from Entebbe- especially those that intersect with the story of the Meraglim: The need to take risks, engage in bold initiatives, say things that at times may be unpopular, and do what needs to be done. At the same time, we must never underestimate the Yad Hashem, the role of God in the unfolding Jewish story. It is Jewish determination coupled with faith in God that assures that Am Yisrael Chai.

Meant To Be Difficult

          In Parshat Beha’alotcha we read about two objects that were impressively made from one single piece of metal.

          The Parsha opens with the command directed towards Aharon to light the Menorah. Then the Torah provides a one-pasuk description of the Menorah’s construction:

“This is the workmanship of the Menorah: hammered out of one piece of gold; from its base to its flowers it is hammered out.”

          The fact that the Menorah was sculpted out of one piece of gold was a feat so impressive that even Moshe was stumped as to how the Menorah was supposed to be built.

          Later in the Parsha, we read about the Chatzotzrot. Moshe was commanded to make two silver trumpets.  Here again the Torah specifies that the trumpets must be “Miksha”, hammered out of a single piece of silver. (This is probably why there are no Chatzotzrot in the IKEA catalogue.)

          Though not mentioned in our Parsha, there is one additional ritual object that had to be shaped from one piece. The Keruvim, which sat on top of the Holy Ark had to also be Miksha.

          The word Miksha comes from the word Kashe, which means hard or difficult. To sculpt these elaborate objects is certainly difficult. But why were these three items singled out for Miksha treatment? Is there any common thread between the Menorah, the trumpets and the Keruvim that can help shed light on this shared construction requirement?

          The key to understanding the Miksha factor is by seeking the symbolism inherent in each of the aforementioned items.

          The Menorah symbolizes Torah knowledge. The Talmud in Baba Batra learns from the position of the Menorah in the Mishkan that Harotzeh Sheyachkim yadrim: one who wants to become wise must go south. Similarly the Midrash recounts how Moshe would meditate by the light of the Menorah when he was trying to figure out a particularly difficult lesson from Hashem.

          Keruvim represent children. Rashi in Parshat Teruma (25:18) quotes the Gemara in Sukah (5b) which states: The Keruvim looked like children.

          The Chatzotzrot, trumpets, symbolize happiness. In this morning’s Torah reading, the last pasuk relating to the trumpets sums up the instances in which they were to be blown (10: 10). The sound of the Chatztzrot was supposed to both foster and express our feelings of joy.

          Torah, children and happiness: three of the most fundamental and essential aspects of our lives. Each stands on its own as an important pursuit, and yet they are inextricably intertwined one with the other. One might think that as fundamentals, success in these areas should be easy. Comes the Torah and tells us in each instance: “Miksha Hi.” They’re hard to accomplish and maintain. These three goals seem to pull us in three different directions. Spending time learning Torah versus time spent on maintaining the family. The financial stress of paying for a Jewish education for our children, and how much happier we imagine we could be without that expense.

          Some people believe that such tensions and questions are symptoms of a lack of faith and that the Torah has a clear answer for every situation.

          By examining the Menorah, the Chatzotzrot and the Keruvim, we are better equipped to appreciate that at times the Torah’s lesson is to embrace the challenge and the tension. By specifying these three objects the Torah teaches us that even with goals as noble and essential as Torah, family and joy, it’s okay to say “Miksha Hi.” Life is hard, and that’s why it’s meaningful. By appreciating the inherent difficulties, may we merit to enjoy the full measure of Hashem’s blessing in all of these areas.