Finding the Jewish Community Center

My first job out of college was teaching religion in a Catholic school. Catholic schools don’t tend to be very inclusive, but I did have a few black students and one Jewish student. I remember Meredith, the Jewish student, because she changed my life; she told me I should get a job working at the Jewish Community Center summer camp. I was looking for a summer job, but as a Catholic school boy, I knew almost nothing about the JCC or summer camp. Catholic kids tend to spend their summers at local swim clubs; summer camp isn’t part of our DNA. But Meredith assured me it would be fun. Now, 27 years later, I find myself a permanent member of the Jewish Community.

It started when Rabbi Jeff told me I had to lead the prayers for Shabbat. He was moving and designated me as his replacement. I told him I didn’t know how to play guitar. He told me I would learn. I told him I wasn’t Jewish. He said, nobody would care. So my wife bought me a guitar for Christmas, and the first song I leaned was “Hineh Ma Tov.” Roughly translated it means, “How good and pleasant it is for brothers and sisters to dwell together in unity.” It was Rabbi Jeff’s favorite song, and it became one of mine. No doubt, it’s fun to sing. It has many different melodies, and the kids love it when I sing it like Elmo. But more importantly it expresses the essential truth about the Jewish Community: we love being together. It is the most inclusive community I have ever joined.

For 25 summers I worked at Camp JCC doing everything from directing traffic to rallying the kids with song, but my favorite part of the week was always Shabbat. Shabbat means community, tradition, and peace. It means breaking bread, and thanking G-d for our blessings. It means finding our center.

Since my retirement from camp, I have continued to visit the JCC twice a month to sing for the kids. In the summers I try to come back every week for Shabbat.

Over a quarter century, we have celebrated Shabbat in all kinds of circumstances. We have celebrated Shabbat with my wife and kids, all of whom worked for a time at Camp JCC. We have celebrated Shabbat with my nieces who, with the support of their Italian Catholic father, are being raised Jewish. We have celebrated Shabbat with kids who grew up to be camp staff and then sent their own kids to camp. We have also celebrated Shabbat in the shadow of hate crimes and terrorist attacks.

Last week my JCC was threatened. The children were evacuated. The center was closed. When I arrived to sing, the place was silent. I went home, not knowing what else to do. This week my community was threatened again. It’s becoming a pattern.

Terrorism is a tool of the weak, and it presumes a weakness in the victim. Those who threatened my JCC think that they can make us afraid, that they can keep us from gathering together. They couldn’t be more wrong.
Trying to keep Jews from gathering is like trying to stop rabbis from talking, relatives from noshing, and bubbies from matchmaking. You can’t stop us. It’s part of our DNA. And I say we, because I am part of the Jewish Community. I’m part of the family. And I will go wherever my people go. So the next time someone calls in a threat, I’ll be ready. The guitar is in the car. I will go the evacuation site and find the Center, and together we will sing, “Hineh ma tov uma na’im shevet achim gam yahad.” It will be pleasant to be together. It will be good.