“Rabbi,” says the Kibbutz camper – an incoming 10th grader laying on an uncovered mattress on the floor of the hang out space, “How do you decide if someone is Jewish? What makes them Jewish? Like what if they have a father who is Jewish and a mother who isn’t – are they Jewish? What if both of their parents were Jewish but they don’t go to synagogue and never became bar or bat mitzvah – are they Jewish? What if a family who is Jewish has a Christmas tree in their house – are they Jewish?” These were some of the questions I received from Kibbutz campers while I was serving as faculty the first week of second session. This summer, second session Kibbutz has only 26 campers and half of them were Israelis, many coming to camp for the first time ever, experiencing Progressive Judaism for the very first time. I wanted so desperately for these Israelis to see how Reform Judaism in the US is powerful, religious, spiritual, and like a welcome home – if it fit. I ran Kibbutz’s education time, which had been decided to be “Meet the Rabbi” sessions where the campers could ask me whatever they wanted. It went for 3 sessions because the questions didn’t stop. And the questions I just shared? They came from the Americans, not the Israelis. They were really trying to understand a definition of “Who or what is a Jew?” with an underlying common insecurity “Am I Jewish ENOUGH?”
I kept reassuring them that we can all practice our Judaism in different ways and that my role as Rabbi was not to judge, but to give practical advice, share the foundational Jewish texts, conversations, and perspectives, explain Reform understandings today, and then give them the space to figure out what they want to do or who they want to be as a Jew.
The reality is that what I teach today or tomorrow or next summer, will impact people differently and would be heard differently by each person. Each of us is made up of the nature and nurture aspects – we can be influenced by one tiny experience that lasts in our memory forever, but someone who was at the same event forgot about it.
My childhood summers were spent at OSRUI, a sister URJ camp in Wisconsin. The faculty who were with us then – leading services, helping us learn Hebrew, teaching us Torah, and joining in on mundane activities – stick out vividly in my mind. The Jewish influence by being a camper at a Reform summer camp was inspiring for me to become a rabbi. I know the importance of being faculty on camp in terms of letting our Temple Beth-El campers see me in a different setting, but also letting these campers build different relationships with clergy outside of the synagogue.
These moments at Jewish summer camp impact our Jewish journeys in ways we may not recognize until much later. But the truth is, the same principle of growth applies to all of us, no matter where we are on our Jewish journey– each and every seemingly small moments builds who we are and deepens our Jewish identity.
The Israelites did this too, but a little differently. In the beginning of Ma’asei, part of the double portion of Matot-Ma’asei, last week’s portion, we found a lengthy list of all stops along the Israelites’ 40-year journey in the desert. In the 49 verses, we are reminded of places we have heard of before and places we only hear about here. The rabbis want to understand why each of these stops needed to be recorded. There are, unsurprisingly, many answers and ideas.
MALBIM, a 19th century Hebrew grammarian, Biblical commentator, and Rabbi from the Russian Empire, explained that at the start of the journey, “When the nation was in Egypt, they were at a low state of impurity. In order for the nation to reach the spiritual level they needed to enter the land, they had to wander for forty years. This list, therefore, is a gradual list of increasing spiritual growth. At each stage, the people grew closer and closer to God.” This list reminds us that there is no direct path or specific way we are to grow spiritually. There are going to be highs and lows. There will be times where that spirituality seems to disappear. There will be sparks of inspiration that seem so silly to remember, but still allow us to see the growth of our spirituality and relationship with God. This week, in the beginning of Deuteronomy in Parashat Devarim, we go back and recap the stops. It seems to be redundant, but we cannot skip any steps and must allow ourselves to remember each step of our spiritual growth.
To me, one of the beautiful things about Jewish summer camps – of which there are so many – is that we provide endless opportunities for Jewish growth. We lay the foundation of sharing the Birkat HaMazon, the blessing after the meal, for each meal. We call units by Hebrew names. We participate in Shabbat, singing songs. We see faculty from all over come and join us for the programs – big and small, Jewish and… just camp. We have our Saturday night campfires which include popular music or folk music, but always kick off with Havdalah. We remind these campers, staff, parents, and other faculty that there truly is no right way to be Jewish. As staff and faculty, we will never know what sticks with the campers (and staff). But each of these Jewish moments or lessons help us become who we are today.
These Torah discussions of journeys remind us each and every day that we may not know where we are going, but we should pay attention to what is happening so that we can grow and learn, better ourselves and our connection to Judaism, God, and the world around us. Just as the Israelites’ journey was built on many stops, and just as my camp memories shaped me, so too are your Jewish lives built moment by moment. It’s in every Torah discussion, every moment of reflection, every holiday celebration, every act of tzedakah, that our Jewish selves truly flourish.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Marina Yergin
Temple Beth-El San Antonio