Camp Ramah: A Bubble of Peace – Pinchas 5784

Dana and I had the wonderful opportunity to be away last Shabbat, as I completed a week as the Rabbi in Residence at Camp Ramah Galim. Galim means “waves,” which is a fitting name, given that the camp lies on a beachfront campus outside of Watsonville.

I am honored to serve on the Board of Directors for the past year and a half. My week started with a Sunday Board meeting, and then I got to stay. I would like to share with you a bit of what I experienced while I was there. 

Ramah Galim is the only Jewish, Zionist, Shomer Shabbat, kosher camp in Northern California. The camp continues to grow — this current summer is the biggest yet; and we just signed a ten year lease with the Monterey Bay Academy, which hosts us.

Campers at Ramah Galim sign up for one of four specialty tracks, which they attend most mornings. Afternoons bring everyone together for activities with their edot (age groups), kevutzot (groups), and the entire camp.

One specialty track is Yam – “ocean”.  Campers focus on learning about marine ecology, in addition to boogie boarding, surfing and other water activities. Campers in Etgar — “challenge” — go mountain biking, hiking, rockclimbing, farming, and other outdoor activities. Those in Al HaBamah — “on the stage” — write, rehearse and perform an original musical over the course of a two week session. I don’t know how they do it.

In addition, for the second summer, Ramah Galim has hosted the Ramah Sports Academy, which offers intensive training for basketball and soccer athletes.

I could go on about all of the wonderful aspects of Ramah Galim, but I want to focus on a few key experiences.

I am proud to share that Congregation Sinai sends more kids to Ramah than any other synagogue. There are twenty Sinai chanichim, campers, attending session three alone. If we add up campers who were at the first two sessions, we are proably in the 30-35 range. I haven’t run the numbers, but I suspect that this is at least 1/3 of all of the kids in the shul. Plus, we have four Sinai young adults serving as madrichim, or counselors. 

We have a scholarship fund at Sinai. This year, we provided more scholarship money for more kids than we ever have before. And I would love to see this expand.

As Rabbi in Residence, I get recruited to a number of different activities. 

Harga’ah means relaxation. Before bedtime, I might meet with an edah or a kevutzah to tell a story or teach a song.

I attend Tefilah with different edot, sometimes as a participant, and sometimes to lead or teach.

On Shabbat afternoon, I led a program for all of Nitzanim and Kochavim – third through sixth graders.

And on Shabbat morning, I led a learning session with staff.

Beyond this, I have the opportunity to simply participate in camp, interacting with campers and counselors, learning about them and occasionally answering “rabbinic” questions. I was also glad to be able to support our Sinai kids, who get a thrill to see “their rabbi” at camp.

This summer, there were also about 30 Israeli chanichim. Many of them are from the northern border and have not been living in their homes for the last nine months. The Education Minister just announced that schools from the evacuation zone will not be reopening in the fall. So these campers will again be attending makeshift schools that have been cobbled together near the hotels to which they have been evacuated.

For the second summer, there is a contingent of Ukrainian campers at Ramah Galim, who are here through a partnership with Maccabi.

All of these kids and staff come together to have a Jewish camp experience. And it is so wonderful. What strikes me about Ramah is how supportive and positive it is for everyone. It is meant to be joyful, experiential Judaism. Chanichim and madrichim are challenged to try new things, take on leadership roles, and have fun. 

As I mentioned earlier, among its core values, Camp Ramah is a Zionist camp. This comes through in so many ways. There is a large mishlachat, or contingent of Israeli staff.

Israeli flags fly everywhere. Announcements are made in Hebrew, and modern Hebrew words and expressions are woven into the camp experience. One of the most popular activites at Ramah is Israeli dancing, which takes place before most dinners, and on the beach after Havdallah.

Yom Yisrael is a day devoted to learning about and celebrating Israeli history, culture, and life. This year, it took on more somber tones. 

More important and impactful than all of the formal programming is the opportunity for Jews from Israel, America, Ukraine, and other communities to live together, get to know each other, become friends, and establish personal relationships. This is the best way to convey the Jewish value of achdut – unity.

At the end of last week’s parashah, the Moabites send in women to lure the Israelite men into commiting idolatry during an event which became known as “The sin of Ba’al Peor.”

To stop the ensuing catastrohe, Pinchas, grandson of Aaron, takes a spear and stabs an Israelite leader and a Moabitess.

As this morning’s parashah opens, God explicitly approves of Pinchas’ initiative, which “turned back [Divine] wrath from the Israelites.” In response, God grants him God’s “covenant of peace,” a covenant of priesthood for him and his descendants after him for all time.

The language in the Torah is unambiguously praiseworthy of Pinchas’ zealous violence. All of the medieval commentators approve of Pinchas’ actions.

It is a moment of crisis. Many Israelites, including leaders, are committing apostasy with the Moabite women. Thousands are dying in a plague. God has just instructed Moses to have all of the ringleaders impaled to turn aside Divine wrath. Pinchas is the one who takes action, stopping the idolatry, ending the plague, and saving the Israelites. He is a hero.

Why does he need a covenant of peace? The Talmud records a legend that the elders wanted to excommunicate Pinchas for taking matters into his own hands rather than going through a judicial process. God’s message to Moses, thus, is a counter to that effort, stating that Pinchas’ zealousness exactly matched God’s zealousness.

The medieval commentators suggest that the covenant of shalom is a promise of Divine protection from the possibility of retribution by the families of the people whom Pinchas impaled, or even from his fellow Israelites.

Modern commentators offer more psychological explanations. Naphtali Tz’vi Yehudah Berlin, known as the Netziv, lived in nineteenth century Russia. He writes in HaEmek Davar, his commentary on the Torah, that

In reward for turning away the wrath of the Holy Blessed One, God blessed him with the attribute of peace, that he should not be quick-tempered or angry.  Since, it was only natural that such a deed as Phinehas’ should leave in his heart an intense emotional unrest afterward, the Divine blessing was designed to cope with this situation and promised peace and tranquility of soul

In other words, Pinchas did what needed to be done. It was unquestionably the right move. But, it took a toll. God’s granting him a covenant of peace is about settling his soul so that Pinchas does not carry the trauma, the PTSD, if you will, with him, nor pass it on to his children.

Camp Ramah, this summer in particular, is playing such a role, particularly for the young adult staff who are there.

In part of the Chadar Ochel, the dining hall, there are posters up of people who have been killed since Oct. 7, as well as of hostages. All of them are personal friends and family members of staff members. Poetry and artwork by campers decorates the walls.

Outside of the Nachshonim bunkhouse, where the oldest campers live, there is a large “Free Hersh Goldberg” banner.

While October 7 and its aftermath certainly hovers over camp this summer, it has not taken over. Quite the opposite, in fact. Nobody knew what to expect before the summer. As it turns out, for the staff in particular, camp has been a respite.

I spoke with Israelis who who have spent much of the past year serving in the military.  Some are 20, 21, 22 years old, and have just completed their mandatory service. Others have had to put their careers on hold to serve in milluim, reserve units. Some saw combat directly. Others had to wait at home while loved ones were called up, not knowing when or whether they would be coming home. Many lost friends and family members on October 7 and during the war that followed. 

One young soldier who spoke with the Board of Directors was sent with his unit on the afternoon of October 7 to battle Hamas terrorists who had taken over a base. He lost several of his fellow soldiers that day, including his commanding officer, who led the charge. He was in tears as he shared his story with us.

Dana and I met with a group of Sollelim kids, going into seventh and eighth grades.  We visited them at their campsite in Monterey during intersession to play music and sing songs.  I let some of them play my guitar. I asked one talented kid where he was from. “Germany,” was his answer.

But that is not where he is from. He is from Ukraine and has only lived in Germany for the past two years. There are a couple of dozen Ukrainian Jewish kids who are at Camp Ramah, getting a break from a disrupted childhood that I cannot even imagine. 

Some of the American college students came to Ramah having experienced a different kind of trauma on their campuses. They described Camp Ramah as a kind of bubble where they did not have to worry about being visibly identified as Jewish, or think twice about what route to take while walking to the dining hall.

Camp is always a kind of bubble from the outside world. Usually, it is a bubble of joyful Jewish experience. This summer, in particular, it is serving as a bubble of love and support in the midst of extremely chaotic and threatening times.

I feel very blessed to have been able to spend a week inside this bubble of peace. I only wish that the world could always be like camp.

Shabbat Shalom.

Castrametation – Ki Teitzei 5777

I came across a new word just this past Thursday in a novel I am reading.  It was used as the title of one of the chapters.  “Castrametation.”  Does anyone know what it means?

Castrametation: the making or laying out of a military camp

Imagine my surprise the next day when I realized that castrametation is one of the themes in this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Ki Teitzei.

And you shall have a marker outside the camp and shall go there outside.  And you shall have a spike (tent peg) together with your battle gear, and it shall be, when you sit outside. you shall dig with it and go back and cover your excrement.  For the Lord your God walks about in the midst of your camp to rescue you and to give your enemies before you, and your camp shall be holy, that He should not see among you anything shamefully exposed and turn back from you.  (Deuteronomy 23:13-15)

On a p’shat – plain sense – level, the Torah is describing castrametation – how the military camp should be organized.  Of course, there is the obvious element of sanitation and hygiene, which are at least as significant to the end results of a war as the actual fighting itself

The Torah frames it not as an issue of health, but as an issue of Sanctity.  When Israel goes to war, God is with them.  Their victory depends on God fighting on their behalf.  For God to remain, the latrines must be dug – and used – outside of the camp.  It is not about germs.  It is about holiness.

As we might expect, Jewish tradition digs through the p’shat to find broader messages for our lives.  Several Talmudic midrashim see the various elements of this law metaphorically.

The first midrash (BT Yoma 75b)understands this message not as an instruction about how to set up a military camp, but rather an allusion to the condition of the Israelites’ digestive tracks during their time in the wilderness.  The midrash begins by quoting Psalm 78 (vss. 24-25) which, referring to the manna, states “Man did eat the bread of the mighty (abirim)”  The Gemara asks what abirim are.  Eventually, it suggests that  the word abirim should actually be read as eivarim, which means “limbs.”  The manna was completely absorbed into the Israelites bodies.  There was no waste whatsoever.  How convenient!

If that is the case, the Talmud asks, why do we have to be told to dig a latrine and bury our excrement?  After tossing a few ideas around, the answer is given:

After they sinned, [the manna was not as effective.] The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: I [initially] said [that] they would be like ministering angels [who do not produce waste]; now I will trouble them to walk three parasangs [to leave the camp in order to relieve themselves].

So this is really a story about Israel’s sinfulness.  At first, there is no need to build a latrine, and God can walk about the Israelite camp without a problem.  But when Israel sins – by complaining about the manna, says Rashi – their intestines become less efficient.  Now the Israelites have to periodically leave camp to do their business so that they can maintain it as a place in which God can continue to reside.

Midrash number two, from Tractate Sotah (BT Sotah 3b) also tells a story of sin in the wilderness.  But this time, the focus is not on the entire camp, but on individual homes.  At first, Rav Hisda teaches, the Shechinah – God’s Presence – would reside within each and every Israelite home.  After they sin, however, God turns away from them so that God does not see any unseemly matter.

The commentator Rashi explains that the types of sin in question are those pertaining to sexual immorality.  That is why the focus is on God’s Presence within the individual homes of the Israelites.

The final midrash (BT Ketubot 5a) shifts the focus to the everyday situations in which each of us finds ourselves.  Like the first one, this midrash relies upon a pun in the Hebrew.

Bar Kappara asks what the Torah means when it says “And you shall have a spike (tent peg) together with your battle gear.”  “Battle gear” in Hebrew is azeinekha.  Don’t read it as azeinekha, Bar Kappara says, but rather as oznekha, which means, “your ears.”  This means that if a person hears something unseemly, an inappropriate thing, he should place his spike, that is to say, his finger, into his years.

We are exposed to situations that we know are not good for us on a daily basis.  I’ll give just one example: gossip – the most pervasive, and potentially harmful, sin in the Torah.  Even if I am not the person spreading the gossip, even hearing it can have terrible effects.

Gossip certainly harms the person being gossiped about.  The spreader of gossip is committing a sin which Jewish tradition compares to murder.  And when I hear it, it produces negative feelings about the other person, and even harms my own sense of self.

According to this midrash, whenever I find myself in the company of people who are gossiping, I should shove my fingers in my ears – figuratively by walking away, or perhaps even literally.

These three midrashim shift the focus from castrametation to our ability to maintain a community and home in which we are grateful for the blessings around us, respectful of each other’s boundaries, and cognizant of the kinds of people and situations we should place ourselves.  God’s Presence in our midst depends on our ability to maintain proper boundaries.

A 19th century Chassidic Rabbi named Jacob Kattina wrote a book called Korban He’ani.  In it, he directs our attention to an acronym hidden in the text.

כִּי֩ יְ-הֹוָ֨ה אֱ-לֹהֶ֜יךָ מִתְהַלֵּ֣ךְ | בְּקֶ֣רֶב מַחֲנֶ֗ךָ לְהַצִּילְךָ֙ וְלָתֵ֤ת אֹיְבֶ֨יךָ֙ לְפָנֶ֔יךָ

For the Lord your God walks about in the midst of your camp to rescue you and to give your enemies before you.

The last four words of this phrase – לְהַצִּילְךָ֙ וְלָתֵ֤ת אֹיְבֶ֨יךָ֙ לְפָנֶ֔יךָ “to give your enemies before you” – begin with the letters ל ,א ,ו ,ל – which are the letters in Elul – אלול, the Hebrew month in which we currently find ourselves.

Elul is the month before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, when we are supposed to be engaged in cheshbon hanefesh, taking stock of our lives.  What sins are we carrying from the past year?  Where are the broken places in our relationships with each other?  What is keeping us from experiencing God’s Presence in our lives?

Rabbi Kattina sees in this verse a “hint that in this month, the Holy One can be found among the Jewish people.  He then cites the Rabbis’ teaching about the verse from Isaiah: “Seek the Lord while He can be found, call to Him while He is near.”  (Isaiah 55:6) The gates of repentance are open, therefore let there not be seen in you anything unseemly and let your encampment be holy.

Let us use these next few weeks take an honest look at ourselves, our homes, and our community.  God wants to walk among us, in our homes, and in our communities.  But it is up to us to make our communities, our homes, and our selves worthy of God’s Presence.

Shabbat Shalom.