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This drasha was delivered
on Shabbat Parshat Eikev 5770
and also as part of the dedication
of the Boys' Migrash at Camp Moshava
in memory of Bernice and Mitchell Macks
By: Rabbi Daniel Kroll
In 1995, when I was 12 years old I headed up to Camp Moshava for the first time. I was nervous as I got off the bus. I had been there before to visit my brothers, but never without my parents. I was in a kvutzah, or bunk, for those of you who don’t know the lingo, with some friends from Chicago, and new kids from Minneapolis and Phoenix. I was relieved when I found out that my madrich was Avi Karesh, whose health should please God continue to improve, because our families were friends. Soon after we had unpacked it began to pour, the likes of which I had never seen before, but I soon found out that this was a good thing as I went with some friends who had been to camp before and went slip and sliding on the grass down various hills around camp - they called it mudsliding. After I had finished mudsliding and changed into dry clothes I wrote a letter home to my parents. “Dear Mom and Dad” the letter said, “I’m coming back here next year and for the rest of my life. I love it.” And I have stayed true to my word; over the past 15 summers I have spent 23 months at Moshava as a camper and staff member, and have not missed a summer.
Last month I served as Rosh Machal, running the program for campers who have just completed 9th grade. Why do I still go back every year? My desire to go back and serve in leadership positions, stems from a simple idea found in this week’s parsha. Moshe, while delivering his farewell speech to the generation that would enter Israel, admonished the people and told them that in a very short time they would go and wage successful wars against the inhabitants of the Land of Israel. The victories they would enjoy would leave them with a vast, beautiful, fertile land filled with vegetation and natural resources. However, he warned them,
השמר לך פן תשכח את ה' אלוקיךTake care lest you forget Hashem your God,פן תאכל ושבעת ובתים טבים תבנה וישבתLest you eat and be satisfied and you build good houses and settleואמרת בלבבך כחי ועצם ידי עשה לי את החיל הזהAnd you may say in your heart, ‘My strength and the might of my hand me all this wealth
Rabbi Avraham Shmuel Binyamin Sofer, in his work the Ktav Sofer, asks the obvious question. How could it be that Bnei Yisrael would ever forget what they had been through? The slavery and subsequent miracle laden Exodus from Egypt. The 40 years of travel through a desert riddled with snakes and scorpions in which no one was ever injured, in which water was provided from rocks and food rained down from the heavens? For forty years they were able to wear the same clothes and shoes! How could it be that they would forget where they came from and what they had been through? Explains the Ktav Sofer that in the desert it was clear to everyone that all that they had, their food, property and their lives came directly from Hashem and no one in their right mind would have attributed their survival and successes to their own strength and might. Up until this point it was easy to see the hand of God in all that they had been through. They departed Egypt after 210 years of slavery without having to wage a war or fight a single battle and in the desert they ate and drank without having to exert a single ounce of energy to prepare their food. However, the future settlers of Israel would only reap the benefits of the land through hard work, both militarily and agriculturally. They would have to fight wars in order to conquer the land and they would have to work the fields in order to produce fruit. And as a result Moshe feared that they, no longer seeing obvious miracles in their everyday lives, would not recognize that all that they had, had come from God and instead would attribute their successes to their hard work.
This is human nature. We are often so consumed with who we are and where we are going in life that we forget how we got there. We forget the people, the moments and the lessons which molded us into the people we are. Occasionally I reflect upon where I am in life and how I got here and I always come to the same conclusion. The single greatest contributing factor to me becoming a rabbi and a teacher, taking a leadership role within the Jewish community, is not my 15 years in the day school system, nor was it my two years in Israel post high school or going to college at Yeshiva University, but it was my time spent at Moshava. As a camper at Moshava I learned how to be independent, but most importantly I experienced and lived Judaism and Religious Zionism. I have few if any memories from when I was 12 years old, but I remember vividly and with complete clarity dancing at Kabblat Shabbat, Friday night zemirot, and the slow, beautiful melodies of the songs at Seudah Shlishit.
What makes camp so special? In short, it’s not school, there are no classrooms. The atmosphere has a strong influence on a child’s learning; there is something about being outdoors and away from your home environment that enables a person to open their mind to new ideas. Oftentimes by as early as first grade children are labeled and categorized by their level of intelligence - classes are tracked and limits are placed on a child’s potential. But in camp, there are no grades. People learn in different ways and for many children text based learning is not one of them and camp recognizes that. For example this year I gained further insight into how strongly our children feel the State of Israel when a discussion about the Gaza flotilla incident went much longer than expected when so many campers wanted to voice their opinions on the subject. On Shiva Asar B’Tammuz we spoke of how fast days are a time for introspection and reflection; a time for self assessment, teshuva and resolving to improve ourselves. I gave everyone a piece of paper and an envelope and instructed them to write letters to their future selves about who they are now and what they hope to be when they graduate from high school; the letters are in my closet and will be mailed in three years. The campers each went to their own spot and privately wrote their letters, some of them taking well over an hour to reflect upon the way they see themselves. Because our schools are text based, such experiences would never take place in the classroom.
To illustrate this point let me share with you the story of a boy from our very own community and the impact Moshava had on his life. This boy, who was 10 years old at the time, had never before showed an active interest in davening, bentching, or singing zemirot. Over the course of the summer he underwent a transformation. His passion for Judaism increased every day. By the final Shabbat of camp he was standing on his bench during singing at Seudah Shlishit, singing with all his might and waving his hands in the air. All of his inhibitions about signing and being religiously expressive in public had faded. He was living Judaism and he loved it. When camp ended and he returned home he was transformed, a new person who was more passionate about his davening and learning. He was only there for one summer, but it was clearly the turning point in his young life; that month at camp fostered his commitment to a religious life.
This is just a small sampling of the power of experiential, informal Jewish education. For me, I know that I am the person, the father and husband I am because of my experience as a counselor and program head. I am a committed religious Jew because of the strong emotional connection I developed to the expressive religious components of Jewish life in Moshava and I will forever be indebted. Which is why I disagree with the decisions of parents who are in the financial position to send their children to camp, but instead opt to send them to summer school or take family vacations. What some people fail to realize is that the impact of Jewish camp does not end on the last day of the summer. Children with meaningful camp experiences are more likely to become adults who value their Judaism, their heritage and its traditions - thy support Jewish causes and take on leadership roles in their communities. As Amy Sales and Leonard Saxe write in their study of the Jewish summer camp experience, anecdotal and statistical evidence confirm that children who attend Jewish summer camps are more likely than those who did not to become leaders in the community, whether as rabbis, educators, professionals or lay leaders.
And if for whatever reason your child did not go to camp encourage them to work at one. Sales and Saxe conclude that some of the strongest effects of camp are on the counselors. As they are forced to become parents for a month, their lives are transformed.
So that’s what I did on my summer vacation. I reflected, I revisited and gave back to the Camp I owe so much of my life to. - כחי ועוצם ידי לא עשה את החיל הזה, my strength and the might of my hand did not give me this wealth, my beloved camp did. It was a productive, fun and meaningful month for me, my family and my campers, even though it did rain an awful lot. One day it rained, some of the hardest rain I have ever seen. I even took some of my campers mudsliding and when I had dried off I called my mother and she asked me, “Do you still like going to camp? Do you think you’ll go back next year?” I told her, “Mom, I’m coming back next year, and for the rest of my life.”
