This week in Judaica was great. C4, C5, O4, and O5 did a program on Jewish identity based on a series of questions such as "My ideal community looks like..." or "My favorite time to be in the synagogue is..." M3 learned about Perek Shirah and ideas of beauty and uniqueness in nature, M6 and M7 did a program based on questioning and were given the opportunity to ask anything and everything about God, Judaism, and life, with the purpose being to question and ponder, without always receiving answers, and Tusc completed their curriculum with a small group discussion-based program on contemporary issues in Israeli society and our relationship to those issues as American Jews.
This week's Shabbat theme was "puzzle." Campers spoke about challenges they've struggled to overcome, as well as how they contribute as a piece of a larger picture, whether at camp or at home. Please see my dvar below.
On Saturday afternoon all campers participated in our final Shabbat discussion groups of the summer. Youngest Onondaga and Cayuga did paper bag skits using traditional Shabbat stories, Middle Onondaga and Cayuga grappled with tough Jewish ethical dilemmas, and Oldest Onondaga and Cayuga put together puzzles of the world and spoke about how they contribute to its repair. Youngest Seneca and Mohawk did a flagship program on Jewish identity and Facebook, Middle Seneca and Mohawk did a program on labeling and cliques in a Jewish context, Oldest Seneca and Mohawk created group silent art about their essence of Shabbat, and Tusc created ethical wills for what they'd like to contribute (or "leave") to the world.
Thank you to everyone who has helped make the discussion periods so successful. All unit heads and countless staff stepped up week after week to lead these programs and engage their campers in thoughtful, meaningful Jewish programming. I can't wait to resume discussion periods next summer!
Shavua Tov,
Joy Getnick
CSL Judaic Educator
Dvar – Friday night – Week 6
Theme: Puzzle
I’m often asked by campers how I know that God exists. The question often comes out the blue, such as when I’m walking to lunch, or waiting for a period to start, but it’s a good question, and one that I always try to answer seriously. I reply that I don’t know for certain whether or not God exists. I further explain that belief – both whether or not to believe, as well as if so then in what – is inherently personal, and may change many times over the course of one’s life.
In this week’s parasha, Va’etchanan, Moses tells the people “Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is one.” This line, more commonly known as the first line of the Sh’ma, is a core Jewish text regarding belief in God. Like the first two commandments – I am the Lord your God, and You shall have no other Gods before me – the Sh’ma helps establishes a foundation of Jewish belief.
As a child, I loved this concept. I have always been a very spiritual person, and I liked being in the synagogue. One of my childhood dreams was to sleep on the bimah, in the hopes that in the middle of the night God would come and visit me. I remember my excitement at my first middle school youth group sleepover, only to find out that we slept in the youth lounge, not the sanctuary.
As I shared last week, when I was sixteen I spent the summer in Israel. During that time my center of faith and spirituality shifted from my synagogue to Israel, specifically to the Kotel or, the Western Wall. I remember the first time I saw the Kotel. There was a slight breeze, and in my sixteen-year-old mind I really felt that God was pulling me towards him. I remember pressing my face up against the cool stones, and smelling the salt from rain and tears. I’d never felt as close to God, or to Jewish community and history, as I did at that moment. Just hours before my group departed for home we returned to the Kotel. Leaning against the wall I cried so hard, as only a teenage girl in love can, except that I wasn’t in love with a person, I was in love with a feeling of security, and a sense of belonging to something so much bigger than me.
When I returned home I tried to capture the feelings I’d experienced at the Kotel, but was unable to do so. I felt like I could never make as strong a connection to God as I had that summer. I yearned, so deeply, to return to Israel, and began making plans for a post college graduation trip.
I spent much of summer 2006 in Tzfat, an ancient mountain town in Israel just a few miles from the border of Lebanon. It was so beautiful, and I loved sitting on the roof of the hostel overlooking the mountains. I was sitting on that rooftop on July 12, 2006 when a neighbor started screaming “the hills are on fire.” I didn’t understand what she was saying, but as I tried to calm her down I realized that we were being shelled by a Palestinian militant organization based in Lebanon, and yes, the hills were on fire. As I sat on the roof and watched the world around us burned, I never felt so alone. I felt like God had abandoned me, and for the first time in my life, I seriously questioned my faith. The more I questioned the more angry and upset I became with myself. Who was I to question God’s plans? I was just one small person. I didn’t matter.
Over the next few hours as my friends and I sorted out who was already leaving Israel and who had reservations for the next morning, those of us who chose to stay grappled with our choice. As I listened to the fears, anxieties, and questions of those around me, I realized that I was far from alone. No-one understood why we were being attacked, and no-one understood God’s plan.
Although I didn’t realize it at the time, those intimate conversations about God, faith, spirituality, and destiny were the essence of Jewish theology. Judaism teaches us to question, to question God, ourselves, and everything. Yes, the Sh’ma and the Commandments state that there is one God, but none of those texts require belief, because how can a person be commanded to believe? Instead Jewish tradition teaches that by striving to live a moral and ethical life, by questioning, and by learning from Judaism’s rich history of text and tradition, we will come to an understanding of God that works for us.
I’m not sure what God looks like, nor am I sure God exists. I know that the idea of there being so much bigger and powerful than me has always provided tremendous comfort, but when campers ask me to define or explain my belief I don’t really know what to say. My image of God is a mystery, a puzzle missing most of its pieces. I can only hope that each life experience, including every summer at camp, helps me add pieces, over time creating an image that reflects an idea and understanding of God that is personal, and unique to me. Shabbat Shalom.
