Here are a few readings written by the Machon at  Shabbat services this morning.

By Brenda M.

In this week’s Torah portion, the Israelites are continuing their journey through the desert and have arrived outside Moab. The king, Balak, views the Israelites as a threat and asks Balaam, a prophet, to curse the tribes. Balaam is fine with that, but God is not. God tells Balaam that if he goes to curse the Israelites he would not be allowed to speak his own words. God says that Balaam can only say what God says. He is basically acting as a true prophet by only being the voice for God’s words. When they go to the Israelite camps, Balaam has no control over his choice of words and three times he bless the tribes instead of cursing them like he is supposed to.

That third time is when Balaam speaks the Mah Tovu, which ends up being the most powerful and eloquent of all the blessings. We sing Mah Tovu everyday at camp to remember that moment and remind ourselves of how we as a people are blessed just for being us. All the Mah Tovu says is that our tents are wonderful but the fact that even something as everyday as a tent can be worthy of blessing is huge. God, through Balaam, is saying that everything about us is deserving of blessing and that we should feel blessed for everything we have.

I have heard a lot of D’var Torah’s for this portion throughout my years at camp and we almost always come back to the idea of turning a curse into a blessing. However, I think there is more to it than making good things out of something bad. It isn’t that the Israelites were cursed and still managed to pull through. Instead, it is God’s choice to be persistent and stubborn and continue to bless us when we should have been cursed. At any point God could have let Balaam speak a curse but instead chooses to bless the Israelites through Balaam. We as individuals in a greater community cannot expect things to turn out for the better all on their own. We have so many things around us and in camp to feel blessed for, but we must make the choice to actively acknowledge our gratitude for those things.

 

By Alex P.

We love your faces

Like the twinkling stars you are

Shine bright this summer

Good Shabbas Crane Lake Camp! To many, the Bar’hu is a familiar prayer connected to past or future Bar/Bat Mitzvah training, at the opening of another aliyah, or being Jewish at camp.

We recite this prayer so frequently that its true meaning may have been lost. The Bar’hu is actually a call and response prayer in which an individual, much like Jeef the Chief, stands before a crowd of folks, much like yourselves, and sets a tone for the community to get excited about and join.

Blessings! Blessings? Blessings, blessings. You know when you say a word so many times that it feels clumsy and foreign on your own tongue? You’ve been hearing the word blessing for what feels like the past million years and it can be hard to grasp what a blessing really is, or should be. A blessing has no set definition. It can come in any way, shape, or form, and can even depend on the person. Mint Milano’s, so dear and perhaps, dare I say, holy to me, may be “eh” to someone who prefers, say Oreos.

My dad, Peter, an interesting combination of Reform Judaism and French cooking, always jokes about the coming of the next mehiyah. A cool breeze after a sweaty bike ride or melted butter atop a slightly toasted baguette—he finds reason to praise what others may consider trivial, or unimportant.

It can be hard to see the smaller mehiyas or blessings in such a large community. The Bar’hu calls you to join in appreciating your smaller blessings—the individual that makes up the whole. It asks each of you, made up of your own light to stand up, literally, and add your sparkle to the larger glow that is Crane Lake Camp.

Can I get a hollah for all the new campers in the house this morning?

Hi! And welcome. I know from experience, that being new and trying out new places can be terrifying. With home fresh on your minds, it can be hard to enjoy what we have here… What do we have here? We’ve got many of the bravest/most courageous people out there. You are all blessings for having the guts to leave home’s routine behind. For all of those looking at us and the other elders on camp, wondering how it’s so easy to leave home, friends, pets, and more for 8 weeks, you should know that it isn’t. I will always have that little knot in my stomach right before I drive through the red gates. We, just like you, live as mehiyas, rising together to face our fears—climbing the ropes course, doing the trust fall, and later, having campers. So, turn those jittering fearful butterflies in your stomach into pride for your strength and your blessings inside and rise with us to say the Bar’hu, cause this one’s for you!

 

By Jake R.

We say Aleinu as reassurance, reassurance for the ability to prosper with strength and confidence to achieve an overall meaningful life.  Specifically, the Jewish people say Aleinu in hope for the future. You see, we have a past of tragedy. The Jews experienced genocides, banishments, and other inhumane forms of torture. We as a people were pushed to our lowest low, to the very limit of how much we could handle. However we made it. Not only did we make it but also we prospered, thrived, and from that point on the Jewish community grew stronger.

Three weeks ago, my community at home was in crisis. Just three weeks ago, I lost one of my closest friends, Abby. Everyone was appalled. None of us expected to have to face such tragedy at an extremely early point of our lives. Three weeks ago, I lived in a state full of tears and confusion. For all of my life, have considered my camp friends as a second family. People at home cannot compare to the love I share with my camp friends. However, the passing of Abby had caused beautiful phenomenon. People that I never thought I would speak to in my life suddenly transformed into brothers and sisters. Girls and boys who had previously loathed each other for foolish reasons were hugging, and crying into each other’s arms. Although, people were also smiling and laughing. It was incredible.

What was once a dull community suddenly became vibrant and full of energy. Abby brought life to what was once a dull community. Being at such a low point brought the people of Trumbull, Connecticut together and created a beautiful community.

The Jewish people have always overcome adversity and have managed to flourish. However, none of it would have been possible without the power of community. Prosperity and a wealthy future came from unity and perseverance of everyone being together as a loving whole.

Join me in saying Aleinu, in hope of the ever-growing strength in future communities.