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When we talk about the concept of sacred spaces, we often think about the obvious – synagogues and holy sites. At Ramah Galim, the concept of a sacred space has taken on a whole new meaning for me.
This week’s parsha, Va’etchanan, includes Moshe’s retelling of the Ten Commandments and the famous Shema prayer. The first words after the Shema are the V’ahavta paragraph, or in English: “And you shall love the Lord your God with all of your heart, with all of your soul, and with all of your might (or means).”
At Ramah Galim, I can honestly say that these words come to life every single day and I’d like to briefly share what I witnessed:
This week’s parasha is one of the more camp-appropriate parshiot for the summer. Va’etchanan has the Shema and the second announcement of the Aseret HaDibrot, the 10 commandments. Before the people come and hear these 10 sayings to live by, there is a verse that illustrates “you came near and stood tachat the mountain” “tachat ha’har.” Tachat means under though is often translated as “at the bottom” since standing under a mountain is rather impossible and undesirable. Chizkuni, Hezekiah ben Manoah of 13th century France, uses the translation of “standing at the bottom of the mountain” to interpret that the people stood at attention, as compared to a verse in Exodus 19:17.
However, the Gemara cites a rabbinic discussion claiming that the people really were tachat, under, the mountain.
It has been a privilege to spend the past week up here at Camp Ramah Galim. I have witnessed beautiful acts of hesed, inspired moments of learning and Torah in action. Of course, this camp is uniquely positioned in the landscape of Jewish camping: where else are campers davening Shacharit in the morning and Birkat HaMazon after meals, while filling their days with scuba instruction, surfing, biking, horseback riding, and kayaking?
“הבו לכם אנשים חכמים ונבנים וידעים לשבטיכם ואשימם בראשיכם.”
“Pick people who are wise, understanding, and known by their tribes, and I will appoint them as your heads” (Deuteronomy 1:13).
Amidst the lingering hugs and luggage schleps of the last day of Session 2 this week, I couldn’t help but notice a 4th grade camper wearing a staff radio while walking out of the Hadar Ochel one last time. When I inquired with his Rosh Edah, she explained, “That’s Rosh David; he’s been appointed our Rosh Edah for the last few minutes of camp.” I smiled at both the theatrics of this moment, and the underlying truism of her words.
On Thursday, June 7th, I touched down at S.F.O. for the last time on my gap year. I felt a sense of loss and sadness, knowing that my most incredible, lifechanging, challenging, introspective year was coming to a close. 12 countries, 7 months, 16 books, 2 rounds of parasites, & endless memories later, I planned to have a relaxing summer at home with friends and family, as I prepared to head off to college. However, on my last day in Norway before heading home, I got an email from Camp Ramah Galim, where I worked last summer, inviting me to come back to camp for two weeks (one session). Just thinking about getting home and leaving for camp a week later made me utterly exhausted, but upon receiving the email, I began to scream and jump with joy and excitement. I knew in my heart that I had to go.
Last summer, I spent one of my last Shabbats before my gap year at camp, and this summer, I spent one of my first Shabbats home from my gap year at camp. It was truly a magical experience to return to camp this summer, the place that both sent me off on my gap year and received me after my gap year. So, I wrote this piece.
As a rabbi and educator, there is nothing more fulfilling than to watch children and teens expand their horizons of perception in new and different places—allowing new experiences and environments to imprint themselves in the form of memories.
Among a whole host of exciting moments at camp this week, I was struck by the joy our hanichim (campers) expressed about their masaot—the journeys they embarked upon away from our beautiful campus.
What’s scarier than being the person in charge? Well for me, it’s being the number two. I don’t know about you, but there is a certain anxiety that I experience knowing that I’m the second in command because at any moment if the person in charge is unable to continue in his or her capacity, all eyes suddenly turn to me….Oy! Most organizations in the world have a plan for succession. Not only is it good planning, but it also creates a sense of stability and confidence that everything is in order if, God forbid, we have an emergency. But where did the line of succession come from? Well, I think that there is some strong evidence that points directly to this week’s Torah portion.
We rarely think of ourselves as female role models at camp. Rather, we are the Camp Directors, Program Director, Waterfront Director, and Rosh Performing Arts, our jobs focused on empowering, supporting, and facilitating the safety, education, and creativity of all kids at camp. But when one looks at Ramah Galim through the lens of this week’s Torah portion and the daughters of Zelophehad, who stood up brilliantly to Moses to fight for their own inheritance, what one views is rather remarkable: this camp community is a place that offers a strong and different voice of female leadership.
The very design of the camp’s program and staff structure speaks to a deep desire to empower every individual to grow and contribute as leaders, fostering Manhigut in so many ways. I was especially struck by the new addition of a Nachshon edah, which providing campers entering into their upper years of high school a richer camp adventure as they shared their experience in camp, expertise and enthusiasm with campers, whether teaching songs, dances, camp or leading Yom Sport. Beyond just these elder campers, I felt strongly the sense that every staff member, counselor and even the campers themselves saw it as their responsibility to lead others as role models and exemplars of the values and spirit that make Ramah Galim unique. Rather than shying away from opportunities, I witness campers and staff alike step up to share stories, lead skits, teach Torah and support each other in a way that makes camp a great training ground for the leaders they can be in their communities back home.
Still in the midst of their desert trek, our ancestors have finally made camp. More than that, in recent chapters of the Torah, we read of challenges to Moses’ leadership by Aaron and Miriam, a chaotic attempted mutiny by Korach and his group of rebels, troubling pessimism from spies sent to scout out the Promised Land, inhospitable neighbors, the deaths of Miriam and Aaron, and countless other trials. It feels like just too much, more than any people can bear.
How could anyone imagine the Israelites taking even one more step after all this? That is where our Parashah begins. And the big gift is: an answer, one that flows straight through the heart of Ramah Galim, can also be found in our holy narrative.