“And go round and round and round in the circle game…”
The words of Joni Mitchell’s classic folk song have been sung many a summer. Now, truly, I feel as if my life has come round and round and round, full circle in the circle game… thanks to Jewish summer camp.
In the early 1970s, I was a young girl from a classical Reform congregation in New Orleans. Back then, for me the most engaging thing about going to Temple was wearing my new patent leather shoes. All I knew about attending Shabbat services was to stand and recite the Shema, and beyond that to sit still and be quiet until it was over. The service was an endless stream of responsive reading in “high” English, and frankly even on Family Night, the sermon was highly intellectualized. As a kid, it wasn’t for me.
I was very lucky, though—because my family did celebrate joyously at home on Shabbat and holidays, and my sisters and I got sent to Henry S. Jacobs Camp in Utica, Mississippi.
1971, my very first summer at camp, was absolutely magical! Services were filled with the music of Debbie Friedman, there was joy in prayer, Hebrew was an engaging and new thing for me to learn, and not only did the campers participate in worship services, but also the sermons were actually geared to teach young people.
That summer changed my life forever. I had found my personal Jewish self and was lit on fire. The experience was so powerful that out of my cabin of eight girls would ultimately emerge two rabbis, two synagogue presidents, a URJ National Board member, and a Captain in the United States Army! Leadership and a love of Jewish life were things we all developed, that summer and each summer we returned.
Macy B. Hart, who served as Jacobs Camp’s Director for 30 years, was and remains a force of nature. One of his most distinguished qualities is that he is a seed planter and a seed reaper, each summer and over the course of many years. Long after I was a camper, we stayed in touch, and when the time was right for the ISJL to offer me an opportunity to become a Jewish professional, he called and I said YES!
I still am delighted to be the Director of Programming for the ISJL. Last year I was doubly blessed to marry a wonderful man, move back home to New Orleans, AND become the Director of Education for my home congregation, Temple Sinai. A lot has changed since I was a kid in the 70s, and I have a chance now to be a part of the continued growth of my community, as a congregant and staff member.
This summer I had the privilege of serving on staff as a guest educator for a week at Jacobs. I arrived on Friday afternoon and during Shabbat dinner I looked around in awe as I realized that there were 20 of “my” kids from Temple Sinai in New Orleans, with whom I was sharing this beautiful Shabbat!
And now I get to be a part of their circle game, just as they have become a part of mine. Generation to generation, on a small campground, learning to be the next leaders and shapers of Jewish life. That’s the magic of Jewish summer camp.
In our corner of the world, Temple Sinai of New Orleans and The St. Charles Ave. Presbyterian Church have been friends for many years now. The friendship between our communities is deep. Our congregations, led respectively by Rabbi Edward Paul Cohn and Reverend Donald Frampton, joined on an interfaith trip a few years ago to Israel. When the church had heating problems one Christmas, they celebrated their Christmas services in our sanctuary.
So when word came down about the Presbyterian General Assembly’s decision about divesting from Israel, the very first thing that Rev. Frampton did was to pick up the telephone and call Rabbi Cohn.
The New Orleans reverend wanted to assure his friend, the New Orleans rabbi, that their local church disagreed with divestment; that they supported Israel, and also their local Jewish neighbors. They wanted to continue the conversation and include their communities, so they immediately arranged for this joint congregational dinner.
The two congregations came together at Temple Sinai for a pot luck supper and discussion. Our lay leaders, staffs, clergy and congregants were all overjoyed at the turnout and the table talk during dinner. After dinner Rev. Frampton took the podium.
“As Senior Pastor of St. Charles Presbyterian Church,” Rev. Frampton said, “I wanted the opportunity to assure you, our valued and trusted friends of Temple Sinai, of our ongoing friendship and partnership in ministry regardless of what happened in Detroit!”
We were also joined by some members of the Lakeview Presbyterian Church, and their Elder, Sue Burge, presented our congregation with a beautiful olive tree to be planted on our grounds. Their community also had an olive tree planted in the State of Israel as a symbol of peace and hope for the future for all of God’s children.
Cantor Joel Colman spoke next, more closely detailing the map of Israel and the current warning times of 15 seconds to 3 minutes depending on how far a city is from Gaza missile launches. Joel’s son, Josh, is currently serving in the IDF… very near the 15 second warning area. “This is a terrible situation for everyone in Israel and most especially the children forced to deal with bombs on a daily and sometimes hourly basis.”
Rabbi Cohn shared his support for Israel and explained that like any country, including our beloved USA, there is history that is not pretty, and he does not agree with every single decision that Israel has made. However, Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East. Israel is the only country in the Middle East, whose Christian population has doubled and redoubled in the last 10 years. Divesting from Israel, he explained, is most often a thinly veiled cover for anti-Semitism.
The rabbi and the reverend agreed on that point, and on the “big idea” of the evening: No matter what, these congregations will remain united faith communities in the Crescent City of New Orleans, forever friends.
Our missions are both to do good works here and abroad, to support our congregants spiritually, to cultivate community and to continue to make our world a better place! Here in New Orleans, even when times are tough, our bonds are strong.
Thank you to our Presbyterian friends and neighbors here at home for showing their support.
My husband and I recently journeyed from New Orleans to Israel—a first trip for him, an always-sacred return for me. On our El Al return flight, seated near us was an older gentleman. We briefly noticed him when boarding the plane; he smiled and so did we, thinking little of the encounter beyond the fleeting thought that he could be anyone’s sweet grandfather.
As everyone began to settle in, my husband noticed the numbers tattooed on the older man’s arm, and pointed them out to me.
I should mention now that on this return flight, there were also dozens of Birthright Israel kids, coming home from their trip. One of the Birthright girls was seated next to the old man, and began to ask him some questions. This man opened up to her, and told his story…and as he did we moved closer to hear it firsthand ourselves.
Encounters like this are far and few between now, as the very last of our survivors are elderly. This inspiring man was very proud that at 16 years old, he had worked hard, held on, and was lucky enough to survive Auschwitz. After the war, he lived in Israel for many years and then eventually moved to the States where he settled and raised his family. His story has been recorded by Steven Spielberg and is part of the Yad Vashem exhibit.
During our trip, we had spent a day at Yad Vashem, and I felt so deeply grateful that this place existed to tell this painful part of our history in the first person. I wondered if our next generations would be able to truly understand the sacrifices that our people made, simply for being Jewish. Men and women, like the survivor now seated just a few plane seats away from us.
During the course of that eleven hour journey, word spread that a survivor was on the flight, and my heart swelled as I watched the Birthright kids each take turns to hear this man’s story. He was patient and kind as he told it over and over again, clearly understanding his “obligation,” and I could see in their eyes as they listened attentively that this next generation clearly understood the privilege of hearing his story firsthand as much as I did. I was just as captivated by watching “our” kids as I was hearing his story.
His survival is our own.
Moved by this post? Join the conversation through MyJewishLearning’s weekly blogs newsletter.