Looking forward to seeing everyone on Sunday night!

Who would have thought? Englewood – 12″ and Wingdale 3″? Who would have thougth that in the economic times we are living in that camp would be at capacity enrollment? Who would have thought that we would have such a great retention rate of 2009 staff to 2010? And who would have thought that this year’s dinner would be the most successful in terms of support for schoalrship ever?

With $300,000 raised for scholarship and over 300 people attending next week’s event, we are living through amazing times for Camp Ramahin ther Berkshires!

Purim is the only holiday on the Jewish calendar that encourages us to let go – almost completely. To put on masks and take on different identities. To celebrate with others at a Purim seudah. To tell jokes. To laugh. To blot out the name of Haman and to cheer on Esther! Who would have thought that we are commanded in Parshat Zachor to blot out the memory of a nation? We are encouraged to make life go upside down. To be silly. To let go.

Our mission statment says that we transform lives. We approach the summer as if it were a show – ten months in the making – and then the curtain goes up! We approach it very seriously however, we also design it to be fun, to be almost Purim-like for a while. Campers often say that one of the things they love about camp is that they get to remove their masks and just be themselves, who they are, Purim like for some because they get to act differently then do at home.

Who would have thought that early next week we might need to close registration for the dinner because of the tremendous response we have had already? Who would have thought that we are already working on the supplement to the journal and not just the journal itself?

Purim is a crazy day on our calendar. May we all enjoy it and may we all look foward to the most amazing, crazy dinner celebration of CRB on Marcy 7th!

Shabbat Shalom and Simchat Purim!

Did you ever wonder what Camp looks like in the snow? What goes on in Windgale during the agam (lake) frozen. What really does go on in Windgale during the winter? Ramahniks clamor for such details.

We who work year-round for Camp spend a lot of the off-season planning, discussing, analyzing and improving the physical plant of our beloved Wingdale site. We consult with many experts, many of whom volunteer their time, specialties and thoughts. In painstaking detail, we analyze such questions as : how can we best design a camper bunk that enhances the quality of life for the campers? How do we turn our various kikarim (fields) into the perfect ultimate Frisbee playing field? How do we keep the public buildings cool during the hot days of summer?
We can trace this adherence to detail through our heritage. We need look no further than the Parashat HaShavua for this week (Terumah) to see the original source for such concentration on the particulars of physical space. The text in Parashat Terumah is among the most detailed in the Torah, giving instructions for the design and building of the mishkan (Tabernacle). That the entire parasha is dedicated to such minutia of the construction and design of the mishkan is testament to its significant religious importance. The Tabernacle was to be the ultimate sacred space, with the ultimate honor: it was to be a place where God dwells. V’Asu Li Mikdash v’shachanti betocham : And let them make me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them. (Etz Hayim translation).
Does God really dwell in one physical space? We believe that Kedusha, sanctity; is not in one physical place. Holiness is in the worship of God, in the communication with God. So why so much detail about building and design, if the actual space is not what embodies holiness? The words of the Torah “V’asu Li Mikdash” can be interpreted in a more figurative sense: God’s sanctuary is not a room or even a wing of the mishkan. God’s words in the text bring us to consider the notion of sacred space, a sort of travelling holy place. The sanctuary is symbolic of a non-literal holy space. God’s sanctuary, sacred space, is every place we experience God’s presence.
We all know that Camp Ramah is not really the snowy, cold Wingdale site, with an empty hadar ochel, and without children playing on the fields. While it is the recognizable physical site of Camp, it is still a shell. What transforms the well-planned, constantly maintained physical space into Machaneynu (our camp)? The agam needs to be filled with kayaks and swimmers, we need to hear the sounds voices of over five hundred children singing “Ivdu et Ha Shem,” sports hug practicing on the fields, and the laughter wafting from within the tzrifim (bunks) in order to be Machaneynu. And having all of these things not only transforms Camp into Machaneynu, but also into a sacred space, a mikdash. Just as the mikdash, sanctuary, in Parashat Terumah, is not solely a holy space as is, we see that the off-season camp facility is not, by itself a holy space. We know that it is when we are all together, experiencing those unique moments as a community, that we are feeling God’s presence. This is the way that Camp does become sacred space.
The physical space is essential, but not sacred without the other elements. It is exciting to see photos of camp in the winter; we feel nostalgic for the physical site to which we feel attached. But it is not truly the A-Side Kikar or Bet Am Bet that are compelling: we internalize our feelings of how Camp becomes a mikdash during the summer, and connect physical space to the sacred. In the winter, we imagine being in Camp during the summer, when it comes alive, and when the physical and spiritual combine to make it a mikdash, a space where we feel God’s presence.

What does the Torah intend to teach us through this symmetrical story line? Perhaps, we must learn that an ideal society cannot be founded on civil laws alone. It must be held together by many invisible forces such as national unity, commitment to ritual and a desire to make room for God’s presence in every day life. Ideally, as we obey the laws, participate in society and even enforce punishments, we are doing so in alignment with the will of God, completely surrounded by God’s presence.

This works in two ways. We cannot only learn rules for altars and worship. People in such a society would cease to feel God’s presence dwelling amongst them after a while, if they weren’t also equally obligated by laws to respect one another and personal property. The resulting chaos would ultimately disrupt one’s spiritual fulfillment. In addition, if we were to immerse in studying only the laws dealing with relationships between people, we might become fearful of the humans adjudicating and enforcing these laws, losing sight of the greater power in the Universe.

So, through the symmetrical layout of these parshiyot, the Torah replaces blinders with bookends- subtle reminders to bring the Divine Presence into our lives and to build a dwelling place for God in all our communities. In essence, we need to balance our concern for the world of human law, politics and economics with our concern for the spiritual life.

As we enter the second half of the winter and I begin my preparation for Kayitz 2010, I’m looking forward to life in the Mishkan that we build in Wingdale, NY. We have built here, in Camp Ramah in the Berkshires a community which runs on laws, ritual, rites and rules. Behind these mishpatim, however, we are fully aware that our community is held together by many invisible forces, such as relationships between tzevet and hanichim, teachers and students, campers and bunkmates and campwide unity. Essentially, the camp experience would not be as powerful as it is without making room for God’s presence within the everyday spaces and times of camp.

As we know, something special and holy pervades every aspect of camp life, including the tzrif, peulot sport, heder omanut, late night medurot, kabbalat shabbat, hiking the Appalachian Trail and even daily Shacharit. It is the concrete structure and order of the day which keeps camp running, but the invisible interpersonal emotional connections which bring us back year after year and create lifelong friendships and meaning for all who enter camp. We are a balanced community, bringing to life the symmetry which surrounds parshat mishpatim.

According to Masechet Megillah, on the first of Adar, an announcement is made concerning shekalim.
This coming Shabbat, we will read the maftir for Shabbat Shekalim. This reading merely replaces the collection of a half shekel of silver from all members of bnai yisrael at the time of the mishkan.

What was the purpose of this collection? Some say it was a census. Others, an equalizing force in society, as rich and poor were obligated equally. Resh Lakish explains that this is done before Purim, so that the collection of Israel’s silver for maintenance of the mishkan, the dwelling place for God, can precede the recounting of Haman’s donations to the royal treasuries for destroying the Jews of Persia. There are many lessons to be learned from the shekalim. On a basic level, the collection of the half shekel was each individual’s opportunity to contribute to the goals of the nation or community.

How can we make meaning out of this mitzvah today? Perhaps, each individual should do an individual values assessment, before contributing to representative causes. On March 7, at the annual Dinner Dance, we will celebrate the amazing, intergenerational, holy community we have built at Camp Ramah in the Berkshires. The individuals who have attended and worked at Ramah, including our honorees, have truly built a place for God to dwell, a place which represents our values and the values we intend to instill in the next generation of Conservative Jewish youth.

As you listen to the maftir this shabbat and anticipate blotting out the name of Haman in coming weeks, please consider contributing your “half shekel’s worth” towards Camp Ramah scholarships. Your donations will allow more of our community’s children to enter a summer community surrounded by God’s presence. Thank you for helping to build our mishkan which is Camp Ramah in the Berkshires.
Shabbat Shalom

Let us attempt to define the commandment. One of the difficulties in doing so, as pointed out by the medieval commentary Abraham ibn Ezra and others is that it is difficult to imagine that the Torah is prohibiting us from finding material goods that are not ours or other people’s spouses attractive. One cannot turn off the part of the mind that looks at and is drawn to people and objects. Rather, explains ibn Ezra, the prohibition is against obsessing about these desires. This can manifest itself in constant fantasizing about the object of one’s desires or in the preoccupation wit h how that which I covet could be mine.   

There are two possible victims when I covet. One is the person whose possessions I want for myself. Obsessive desire can lead to a violation of any or all of the previous commandments. Some people will lie, steal, violate the integrity of marriage, or even murder in order to get what they want. Rambam, in his discussion of this commandment, points out that the biblical king Ahab desired the vineyard of his neighbor Naboth, who would not sell it to him. Ahab was so possessed by the desire to own this vineyard that he was willing to hire false witnesses who led to Naboth’s execution, whereupon Ahab claimed the vineyard for himself. See, says Rambam, how the covetous Ahab was willing to steal, lie and murder in order to attain his objectives.

But that person is not the only one who suffers. I also do damage to myself. Our rabbis tell us that the truly wealthy individual is one who is satisfied with one’s lot. Some one plagued by greed or lust lives a life of perpetual unhappiness. He can never truly enjoy what he has because his focus is on what he doesn’t have. No matter how much wealth he acquires, regardless of his status or the attractiveness of his wife, a coveting person will always experience poverty and deprivation. Moreover, there is a great irony inherent in the act of coveting. To covet is to have the desire to be a possessor; yet someone who is consumed with jealousy and desire is himself or herself possessed by those longings and emotions.

It is worth noting that the very first human sin was the result of coveting. When the serpent urges Eve to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, the Torah tells us that the saw that the tree was nehmad… le-haskil ,”desirable as a source of wisdom.” The root of the word nehmad is identical with that of the word tahmod. Genesis is telling us that coveting is the beginning of all sin.

Contemporary society has created a new form of coveting. The British scholar Colin Campbell has explained that the nature of modern coveting is different from that of the pre-industrial era. In former times people desired things. Today we desire experiences that we imagine will result from our possession of those things. When I see an ad for a Jaguar I don’t only admire and desire the car itself but also the vision presented on TV of the Jaguar speeding through the verdant countryside. However, when I purchase that Jaguar, I will have to drive it in the real world, in traffic and down gritty streets. The reality will never match our fantasy. And so we go on to the next obsession.

  Our insatiable desires have created a world of excess, where nature and much else is sacrificed to the production of ever more goods and services. When we speak of the environmental challenges of our age we should acknowledge that, in the words of Pogo, “We have met the enemy and he is us.” Yes, we must demand stricter controls over emissions, more recycling, and the greater use of renewable energy. Yet as long as we demand an andless stream of “things” environmental depradation will continue.

One of the reasons that I enjoy being at Ramah Berkshires each summer is that I am reminded of the beauty and importance of nature. I also am reminded that one can live in relative simplicity and be happy with one’s lot. These are two of the great gifts, among many others, that we give our campers at Ramah Berkshires. They are fortunate to receive these gifts and we are fortunate to have the opportunity to give it to them.

This image rings familiar to those reading Parashat Beshallach, our Torah reading for this week. There is no shortage of water, as the Children of Israel are surrounded by the Red Sea, first trapped by it, then protected by it, as the water forms a wall on their right and on their left. But when they emerge from the Sea, leaving slavery behind, they have no water to drink.

“And Moses led the people out of the Red Sea, and they emerged toward the desert of Shur, and travelled three days in the desert, and found no water. When they reached Marah, they could not drink the water there either, for it was bitter, hence they called the place Marah (bitter)” [Exodus 15: 22-25].

This passage is the source upon which the Sages build one of the most characteristic Jewish practices: Regular public Torah reading. The Sages taught on this verse of thirst [Bava Kamma 82a]:

 “Those who expound the Torah’s hints said: They found no water means they found no words of Torah, which are metaphorically compared to water. Because they went three days without Torah, they grew parched and weary. Then the prophets among them decreed that Jewish communities should never go three days without Torah, but should read it aloud each Shabbat, Monday and Thursday.”

Amidst their suffering, the Israelites cry to God, who teaches Moses how to cast a tree into the bitter water to sweeten it, and slake their thirst. What is this unusual tree that makes it possible to drink desert waters? None other than the Eitz Hayim, of course, the tree of life, the Torah itself, according to the Midrash [Mekhilta].

Lacking Torah is like dying of thirst in a dry and unforgiving world. Taking hold of Torah is like a cool drink of water. And Camp Ramah in the Berkshires is one of the best, deepest, most refreshing wells you’ll ever find.

At Camp Ramah in the Berkshires, our kids experience the rich fullness of the Torah all day long, in the well-rounded, fun and serious, engaging and deep Jewish community we build every summer.

Now we need to make sure that the well stays open and accessible to all who want it. We must be able to repeat what Isaiah the prophet said: Come all you who thirst, and enjoy water! [Isaiah 55.1] In these difficult economic times, it is imperative that our institutions raise the funds that enable all families to be able to participate in the best Jewish community and Jewish living we can offer. That is one of the most important jobs of any Jewish community.

Please join us at the upcoming scholarship dinner Sunday, March 7 at Park Avenue Synagogue in New York City and contribute to the scholarship fund so that we can ensure that our families have free and regular access to the Torah, the life-giving water, they can find at Camp Ramah in the Berkshires.

Therefore, according to this timeline, the Israelites escaped Egypt, crossed the Sea of Reeds, experienced the Revelation and the giving of the Ten Commandments at Mount Sinai, and built for themselves a makom kadosh in ONE  YEAR!  After 400 plus years of enslavement in Egypt, this one year must have felt like an extraordinary transformative experience for the Israelites.

As Rosh Machaneh Alef (Head of the younger side of camp) during the summer, I have had the privilege to see our own campers have their own transformative experience, growing in leaps and bounds in their own Jewish identity and as people.  In a short 4 or 8 week span, our campers experience Wingdale’s own version of the one-year experience of the Israelites:  journeying, achieving milestones, revelatory experiences, and the formation of a kehilah kedosha.  It is an experience that our campers relive summer after summer.  Like when we gather at Pesach and relive the journey of our ancestors, so too our chanichim spend their winters reliving the Revelation (we even have our own mountain!) of Camp Ramah in the Berkshires.

As for me, I found the journey of Ramah later than most of us.  As a young child, I was unable to afford Camp Ramah and it was only due to some lucky circumstances that I ended up at Ramah as a staff member, the same summer I met my wife Michelle.  14 summers later, my fountain of youth holds strong and I have the extraordinary honor to help foster a love for Ramah that I missed out on as a child. 

To borrow a phrase from  the Haggadah:

Bechol dor vador chayav adam lirot et atzmo keilu hu “halakh” l’Camp Ramah in the Berkshires

In every generation, one is obligated to see himself as if he went to Camp Ramah in the Berkshires.  

This is ever appropriate as we honor Richie Friedman, Steve Goldstein, and the 20 year anniversary of the Alumni Association.  Over the next several weeks, we have the opportunity to ensure that no child misses out on the Ramah experience.  Through our collective efforts in supporting this year’s Journal and Dinner Dance, we will make sure that as many children as possible have the extraordinary transformative experience we call Camp Ramah in the Berkshires.

Shabbat Shalom U’Mevorach,

Rabbi Fred Elias

As of January 1, we have raised over $30,000 for the Scholarship Fund.  That is 12% to our goal of $250,000.   Don’t wait.  Be a leader.  Give today.

Richie Friedman and Steve Goldstein

Camp Ramah in the Berkshires is delighted to announce its honorees for its 2010 Annual Dinner Dance, Past-President and Alumni Assoication Co-Founder Steven Goldstein and Executive Board Member and Alumni Association Co-Founder, Richard Friedman.  The event will also honor the 20th Anniversary of the Alumni Association.

The Annual Dinner Dance will take place on Sunday, March 7, 2010 at Park Avenue Synagogue.  Watch here for more details!