L'Shana Tova 5773

The High Holy Days are again upon us, and as they approach, many synagogues are about to find themselves filled with congregants who are rarely ever seen at a Shabbat service or other ritual throughout the year.  Many will have to rent space to accommodate the overflow, while on a typical Saturday, their sanctuaries will be filled with empty seats.  Indeed, it seems as though many of us are there to hedge our bets; in a post-ritual world, we explore our Judaism throughout the year through non-traditional means (participation at a JCC being one of them), yet find ourselves jockeying for the non-folding seats on these three specific days (2 for Rosh Hashanah, one for Yom Kippur).

A key problem with this approach to selective worship is that often we can end up reciting long-remembered prayers and humming traditional tunes in a manner that is more rote than meaningful.  For example, a central tenet that occurs throughout these days touches upon the tenuous relationship between life and death.  “Who shall live, and who shall die,” asks one repetitive line in our prayer books, which is then coupled with imagery of “a book of life” and well-meaning wishes that we be inscribed in it. These passages and traditional greetings conjure up an image of a giant book in the sky which will either have our name in it or not.  Is it any wonder then that we flock to the synagogues on these days? Who wouldn’t? 

But if we remove ourselves from the literal interpretation of these words, we can find a powerful message that may help us to live better.  In truth, “life” has many meanings.  When we say someone is filled with life, we’re not talking about their years, but rather about how they live it.  We’re talking about quality.  So when we ask “who will be inscribed in the book of life?,” the question continues:  it asks further, who will be inscribed for a good year?

As part of the liturgy, we are taught that through prayer, repentance and good deeds, we can assure our inscription, and here the literal interpretation holds up well.  We know that our lives can be more enriched when we take time to be introspective, when we forgive and let go of our anger and hurt, and when we ask others for forgiveness.  We also know that our lives are best enriched when we learn to forgive ourselves,  And when we strive to do good for others – when we strive to do better in our personal lives –  here too we find that life becomes sweeter . . . better . . . more good.

Personal Jewish journeys are rarely straight lines; they bounce us back in forth between the traditional, the modern, and the possible.  As this Rosh Hashanah begins, may you find meaning in your journey, may you live well, and may you be inscribed in the Book of Life for a good year.

B’Shalom,

Arnie 

A Walk to Remember

 A Walk to Remember

It’s Sunday night as I write this and we’ve all just returned to our homes following the 7^th Annual Walk to Make the Sun Rise at the Henry Kaufmann Campgrounds.  And what a walk it was!

There are many proverbs which speak to our responsibilities towards children, perhaps the most well-known one being an African proverb that says “it takes a village to raise a child.”  Often at the JCC, we talk about “building a fence around children” – a protective wall if you will that surrounds and envelops them with love and caring.  And nowhere is that more evident than at the Walk to Help the Sun Rise – our annual walkathon to benefit Sunrise Day Camp.

For the past 7 years, myriad individuals, families and teams – even corporations like Nikon – have come to the walk to raise money for our kids.  Last year, 1000 people walked and raised over $345,000, and while we don’t yet have the tallies for today’s walk, it sure felt as large.

The beauty of the walk isn’t just the money we raise, but it’s the sense of a community gathering around these children to make sure that they have a chance at normalcy – at a summer of fun instead of one of sadness and isolation.  People come for myriad reasons – some because they’ve been touched by cancer in one way or another, and some because it’s just a good thing to do.  Let me share with you two quick vignettes:

The first is the JHS Kids Club.  JHS “officially” stands for “Jericho High School Kids”, but it also unofficially stands for “Jericho Helping Sunrise Kids” -- a play on words because of their deep commitment to Sunrise.   This amazing group of High School Students raised an unprecedented $25,250 this year for our kids, the largest amount ever from a team.  What an achievement!

But the other story that struck me today had nothing to do with money; it was about our own Buildings and Grounds crew.  These are the hardest working people I know.  They worked through the entire weekend after Friday night’s rains sent mud and puddles streaming throughout the walk course, and were at the campground again on Sunday before the sun came up, moving tables, setting up signs, tamping down loose soil from the rains, sweeping sidewalks, setting up displays, food, etc.  They never stopped working, and when it was all over, they broke it all down as if we had never been there.  When I went to talk with them at the end of the day, they told me how much they loved working this event because of what Sunrise is. It was a humbling moment.  I would challenge anyone to do a day’s worth of physical labor as these men and women do, and to do it with the grace and class that they bring to the table. They were amazing.

The day was beautiful – mid 70s and barely a cloud in the sky – the perfect day to come together for a good cause.  It had poured the morning before, but we put the grounds back together and had a wonderful walk.  And as the last person left and the final table was put away, the sky darkened and once again, it began to rain.

I couldn’t help but smile.

All the best,

Arnie

History Intersects the Present

Rabbi Michael Paley, who has held the position of scholar in residence at UJA-Federation of NY for more than a decade, was recently interviewed for Kerem, an inter-denominational magazine that focuses on Jewish spirituality.  During the interview, Dr. Paley offered the following observation:

I was talking to a man at a UJA event who said, “I’m really not very Jewish.” I asked him what he meant, and he said he didn’t do “any religious stuff.” I asked him about his job, and he said he was a neonatal oncologist. His work was saving infants after other people had given up on them. “What about the other doctors in your group?” He said, “Come to think of it, they’re all Jewish.” He thought he wasn’t Jewish because other people have defined what it means to be Jewish. But what about the injunction to choose life? He was playing out the Jewish narrative even if he didn’t realize it. In a post-ritual world, some of these secular values are a continuation of our fundamental religious values.

Dr. Paley’s story reminded me of a conversation that had occurred many years ago at a Board meeting.  Someone had made a comment about the Orthodox being the most religious denomination in Judaism, to which my friend and board member Dr. David Sonabend responded in force.  A committed Reform Jew, he retorted that he was just as religious as any member of the orthodox community – he was just not as observant.  I’ve always remembered that comment, and often thought about it in relation to the JCC.

JCCs are not set up to be religious organizations per se.  But because our people come from so a powerful history of compassionate thought, the values inherent in our rituals have now made their way to what Dr. Paley called “the post-ritual world.” In other words, we may not be a religious organization (or “religious” individuals for that matter), but our value system makes us as Jewish as if we were.   To care for the sick . . .  to help the poor  . . . to treat others as we would want to be treated . . . to repair the breaks in the world – all of these precepts which are so integral in our work derive from ancient Jewish thought and ritual; from scholars like Rabbi Hillel, Rabbi Tarfon and others whose words can still be heard in our laws, our work and our ethics. 

All true religions – Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism and more – have within their basic structure a system of values meant to guide us to live well and act well toward one another.  We need not be religious to espouse these values, and our institutions are a reflection of that.  When I think about that man that Dr. Paley met at UJA  . . . the one who saves children’s lives yet doesn’t consider himself “very Jewish,” I also think about the lives that have been either saved or enhanced through our work here . . .   the smiles we bring to sad faces . . .  the many days we’ve brightened for people living alone.  I think about the programs we make possible through tzedakah, and the years we’ve added to people’s lives by getting them healthier.  We are what we are because of who we have always been; our history intersects our present and gives us the tools to create Jewish institutions filled with Jewish values and Jewish precepts.  And that’s what makes a JCC.

B’shalom

Arnie

  

A Passover Message

It’s Only Words . . .

On Friday night, many of us will gather together to recite the Haggadah – the telling of the story of the Hebrew Exodus from Egypt which Jews have recited annually for millennium. The story is the same, but it is through the repetition year after year that we incorporate the message of Passover into our very being.

Amidst the family and the food, we will collectively recite the following passage: “Let all those who are hungry come and eat; let all those who are in need come and celebrate the Passover.” In ancient days – and in some homes today – this passage was and is taken literally, whereby those in need were invited into the homes of those who had enough. But in most modern homes, it is simply something we read.

If we take the time to hear the passage as it was meant to be heard, we may find that it refers not just to those outside of our doors, but to those at our table as well. What is it that we hunger for? What is it that we need? What is it that we might find in this story of slavery, exodus and redemption that will add meaning to our lives?

And at the same time, how can we add meaning to the lives of others?

There are nearly 1 billion people in the world today who go to bed hungry, many of whom will die from starvation and malnutrition; in America itself, nearly 1 out 5 children don’t have enough to eat. And throughout the world – especially in parts of Africa – slavery is still a rampant business. One would have thought that in the age of CNN and the internet, such practices would have been eradicated by the sunlight that the modern world heaps upon it. But sunlight only works when people are looking. At this year’s Seder, will we look? And when we do, will we act? Or will it just be words?

At this moment of introspection, may we be blessed with the gifts of understanding and compassion, and may we turn our words into actions as we seek to redefine ourselves by giving to others. May we ask not only the traditional 4 questions, but also the questions that Rabbi Hillel asked of us so long ago:

If I am not for myself, who will be for me?

If I am only for myself, what am I?

If not now, when?

And may we act, so that the true meaning of this holiday does not pass over us.

My deepest wishes to you and yours for a Zissen Pesach – a sweet Passover – and a joyous and meaningful Easter to all our Christian friends as well.

All my best,
Arnie
President & CEO

The Summer Seven

In an article recently published in Psychology Today, Michael Unger Ph.D., a family therapist, a researcher at Dalhousie University, and the author of The We Generation: Raising Socially Responsible Kids, wrote a simple yet brilliant piece on the importance of summer camps in building resilient kids. The conclusions he reached were the result of conversations with 300 camp directors in both day camps and resident camps. Summer Camping – he said – provides 7 essential things that all children need. I call them the Summer Seven:

1) Camp helps form new relationships, not just with peers, but with trusted adults other than their parents. Just think about how useful a skill like that is: being able to negotiate on your own with an adult for what you need.

2) Camp can foster a powerful identity that makes the child feel confident in front of others. Your child may not be the best on the ropes course or the next teen idol when he sings, but chances are that a good camp counselor is going to help your child find something to be proud of that she can do well.

3) Camps help children feel in control of their lives, and those experiences of self-efficacy can travel home as easily as a special art project or the pine cone they carry in their backpack. Children who experience themselves as competent will be better problem-solvers in new situations.

4) Camps make sure that all children are treated fairly. The wonderful thing about camp is that nearly every child starts without the baggage they carry from school, and in those cases where the baggage travels with them, the camp will find opportunities to just be kids who are valued for who they are. No camps tolerate bullying.

5) At camp kids get what they need to develop physically. Ideally, fresh air, exercise, and a balance between routine and unstructured time.

6) Perhaps best of all, camps offer kids a chance to feel like they belong. There really is a purpose to all those goofy chants and team songs; it creates a sense of common purpose and attachment to the identity that camps promote go a long way to offering children a sense of being rooted.

7) And finally, camps can offer children a better sense of their culture. It might be a Shabbat song, or a special camp program, or maybe it's just a chance for children to understand themselves a bit more as they learn about others. Camps give kids both cultural roots and the chance to understand others who have cultures different than their own.

Any parent who would read this might be tempted to rush out and enroll their child in camp tomorrow, spending as much as they could afford to get the “best” camp possible, assuming that the more prestigious the camp, the more likely he or she is to get the most of the Summer Seven benefits. But here’s the rub. Cost and prestige doesn’t mean better; in fact, sometimes it may mean worse.

According to Dr. Unger, “The worst camps pander to children as if they are entitled little creatures whose parents are paying big sums of money. Children at camp can't be treated like customers if they are going to get anything out of the experience. They need to be treated like students whose caregivers, the counselors, know what the kids need to grow.”

Here at the Friedberg JCC Family of Camps, children’s growth and development is our number one concern. We’re not just a camp – we’re a social service agency, whose philosophies and programs reflect the best of the Summer Seven. Think about our STARFISH program (Sportsmanship, Tolerance, Appreciation, Respect, Friendship, Integrity, Sensitivity and Helpfulness) that permeates all of our camp activities and philosophies. When it comes to building character, friendships and sense of self, we’re number 1! So spread the word. Camp is good for kids, and our camps are GREAT!

Best,
Arnie

A Million Dollars Worth of Love

Philanthropy is the core of what we do. Without philanthropic individuals who contribute to the JCC, we could not exist. Scholarship for families who cannot afford the cost of camp or school, subsidies for seniors living on a fixed income, low costs for teen memberships to encourage participation at the JCC...all this can only occur through the generosity of others.

Nat Glanz, who sat on our Board of Directors for nearly a decade, was one of those “others.” He and his wife Muriel set up the “Glanz Challenge,” which funded the JCC’s special needs programs and Sunrise Day Camp. The premise of the challenge was simple: for every $2 raised, Nat and Muriel would put in a dollar of their own money, up to $10,000. Nat wanted to inspire others to give, and each year the Glanz Challenge succeeded in doing just that, bringing in $30,000 each year between their gift and the gifts of others.

We lost Nat in 2010, and when I say it was a loss, I mean it in every sense of the word. Nat’s passing left a hole in our hearts and in our agency; his generosity was only overshadowed by his sunny, gregarious personality. Nat made a room shine when he walked in, and the loss of his presence is still felt in our halls today. But what we didn’t know at the time was that we would lose Muriel soon after in 2011. Muriel, a deeply kind and generous person in her own right, used to accompany Nat to Board Meetings, and the folks around the table loved her so much that they made her an honorary board member – a position rarely bestowed upon anyone. Her loss, coming so soon after Nat’s, left us stunned. Two of our most loving, generous board members would no longer be with us, and the void left by their passing will always remain.

But the Glanzs’ believed in the future, and their wish was that the JCC – which they both loved so dearly -- continue to be a strong, vibrant Center long past their time with us. And so, just last week, we received a check from their estate for one million dollars. This was a legacy gift that Nat and Muriel had begun making provisions for years ago, their goal being that it help the JCC to grow for generations to come.

Part on the funds they left us will be used towards the construction of an addition to the JCC building, while the balance will be used to develop new programs over the years as well as increasing our services to special populations – all areas that mattered to them and which will help to secure our long-term viability. And because they loved our staff so much, a portion of their gift will be used to create some staff awards, to recognize and encourage the most innovative among us.

The Talmud says, “Just as my ancestors planted for me, I shall plant for my children.” Nat and Muriel, by looking to the future with generosity and forethought, have planted for generations to come. May their memories be a blessing, and may we all follow their example and remember those who will inherit the earth long after we are gone.

Best always,
Arnie

Take a Sad Song and Make it Better... A New Year's Message

Hey Jude. It was the blockbuster for the Beatles that broke even their own records, including being the longest playing song to reach number 1 on AM radio without being edited down (at 7:11, it was far longer than the traditional three minute single that radio stations liked to play) and staying the most weeks at number 1 in the U.S. than any previous record by any group or artist. The song starts slowly - a wistful ballad filled with advice (Hey Jude, don’t make it bad...) - and gradually crescendos into a powerful sing-a-long rocker that indeed takes a sad song, and makes it better, better, better, better...

While the impetus for the title of the song came from a countrified adaptation of the name of John Lennon's son, Julian, the words "Hey Jude" (rather than "Hey Jules") actually created a small uproar when Paul McCartney painted it on the window of the Beatles' closed Apple shop in the middle of a busy London street. What he hadn't realized was that "Jude" was the German word for "Jew" and that the Nazis had painted the same word on the windows of Jewish-owned shops during the opening phases of the holocaust as part of the attempt to isolate and economically starve their Jewish citizens. To the survivors of Hitler's extermination plan, writing "Hey Jude" on a store window was an ugly reminder of an unspeakable tragedy that had occurred just years prior; to McCartney, it was merely an attempt to publicize a song that he had written to soothe the hurt that a dear friend's son had been feeling over his parent's divorce. The store window was soon broken by angry Britons, and McCartney himself was threatened by an outraged survivor who was incensed to see the word "Jude" once again scrawled across a shop window. In the end, Hey Jude would go down in musical history as one of the most successful songs of all time. But it also stands as a reminder of how deeds or words can be misunderstood and cause pain where none was intended.

On Yom Kippur, we ask forgiveness for "the sin we have committed either knowingly or unknowingly," thereby acknowledging what McCartney didn't understand when he painted his sign - that sometimes we hurt people without ever meaning to do so. During these Days of Awe - the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur - we are given the opportunity to look deeply inside of ourselves... to examine our words and deeds with honesty and humility and to seek forgiveness from those we may have injured, even if we did not mean to do so. The Rabbis caution us not to expect forgiveness from God for trespasses against another person unless we first seek forgiveness from the injured party; God forgives trespasses against God, but only people can truly forgive the hurt caused by another person. Although the responsibility may seem daunting, in truth, this is a tremendous concept, as it places within our hands both the power to heal as well as the power to forgive.

Or as the Beatles put it, to take a sad song, and make it better.

Shanah Tovah everyone,
Arnie