Dear Parents,
We have tried to provide even more detailed daily updates this week, in order to give you as full a picture as possible of the great events and developments during our last days together.
As a result, we will use this week’s Friday update to take a step back, and to look at this extraordinary summer as a whole.
Rather than repeat earlier reports or give further attention to the most prominent events that defined the summer (Kumsitz at the Kotel, Sports and Tiyul highlights, Tzizis making, the return to Beit Meir, and more) we will instead focus on some other moments that spoke volumes about our experience and will hopefully provide a deeper understanding of why we will never forget NCSY Kollel 2014/5774.
Kibbutz Lavi Hotel, a few hours before Shabbos.We are waiting to check in to the hotel for our alternative programming on the second “Free” Shabbos of the summer. There is one elderly gentleman in front of us. He is dignified and proper, and seems to be of European descent. As they hand him his key, he runs through a quick checklist of final questions regarding his stay. He confirms the meal times and the hours of the tea room. He inquires about the facilities and when to sign up for the tour of the kibbutz. Although it prolongs our group’s wait, it is actually an exciting introduction to the hotel’s amenities. His last question is more sobering. He matter of factly turns to the concierge and says: “And would you be so kind to advise me of all the closest bomb shelters?” Such was our summer…
Beit Meir, 3:30 AM on our second night in Israel. It is one of our few nights on our campus before our move north. The campus is settled into a somewhat uneasy quiet. Most are sleeping, save for the rotation of madrichim and staff taking shifts through the night to help expedite a potential siren procedure. There is a hooded figure, sitting in the bus stop adjacent to our dorm, and he is moving oddly. On this of all nights, any strangers or strange activity need to be investigated, so the person is approached. Wrong on two counts. He is no stranger, and his movements are anything but odd. It is the madrich assigned to that section of the campus, bundled against the night chill. And he is reciting tehillim while watching and listening for the safety of our boys…
Chispin, during the annual basketball game against Sulam (Morasha). We did not win the game, but it was a special night nonetheless. The NCSYers were valiant in defeat, and the game had none of the regular competitive edge. Every program in Israel, if not every Jew in the world, were true brothers this summer. Sports highlights often follow a formula. They involve a long homerun or spectacular goal. There is a slam dunk or a buzzer beater to dramatically shift the outcome at the last second. It is hard to recall a well-played basketball game where the highlight was a rebound (!) in the middle of the second half. But that was the case that night. The Sulam front line was imposing. We were undersized most of the game. At a pivotal moment in the game with the NCSYers trying to close the gap there was a missed shot on the Sulam end with an impossibly long and high rebound off the rim. The biggest Sulam player and an NCSYer were positioned under the ball forever. The NCSYer jumped, and rose and seemed to continue to rise. He tipped the ball and then ferociously secured possession. The crowd erupted in appreciation. It was the strongest reaction to a rebound we have ever seen on the Kollel. It didn’t win us the game; Sulam was the better team that night. But it gave us one more possession, and one more chance. And it was a metaphor for a certain strength and tenacity that was on display from day one through the end of the summer…
A Monday night in Chispin. Our tech staff head is also a reservist in Tzahal. His unit has recently been retrained, and thus assumed to be removed from the call up list. On this night, that assumption is proved incorrect. Yair has received notice. He is on his way to Gaza. As he rushes off, a group is left stunned by his departure, and they stand together discussing the news. For most of our stay in the north, we share the campus with Camp Dror, an OU Israel program for Israeli youth. A boy from Camp Dror approaches the group, and asks with overwhelming concern, “Did you say that Yair got called up?” It is Yair’s younger brother. No one was even aware that Yair had a brother in the camp, and now we were unwittingly in the position to give him the news of his brother’s return to active duty. His obvious concern and worry was almost too much for our NCSYers to bear. Yair’s brother was quickly escorted to his own counselors and adult staff to be further counseled. And he was elated (along with all of us) when Yair returned safely a few days later. Many in Yair’s former unit were not as fortunate. And they are all someone’s brother…
It was not our only encounter with the true heroes and warriors of this summer. On our second Shabbos in Chispin, we hosted Rabbi Gotch Yudin and his family. His son Alex is an NCSY Kollel alum and soldier on active duty in Tzahal. He is enjoying Shabbos with his parents and grandparents before heading to the battlefield. Alex honors us with hagbah, and before he begins, the clear symbolism of his holding up the Torah before us is pointed out to the group. His grandfather, Rabbi Benjamin Yudin begins to read the haftorah. He stands beside his grandson and the Torah and slowly recites the berachos that follow the reading. His prayers for peace, joy, and salvation fill the room in a way that is utterly unforgettable…
A Sunday morning in Chispin. The office of the manager of the hotel. We have a long list of issues to discuss but he responds to everything with a smile and says simply “Ra’iti et HaKlip SheLachem.” No one knows what he means. He repeats himself. It doesn’t help. He stresses the mystery word- “HaKlip, HaKlip!” he gestures to his computer which is open to YouTube. It is now made clear. “HaKlip” is a video clip, posted online. He has returned home from some long days at work and reported to his wife on the remarkable efforts to accommodate the groups from NCSY. She is intrigued, and Googles it. Our weekly video comes up. The entire staff has been delighted to see their hotel as the backdrop for such exciting programs and events. She is blown away by the nature of our program. He is responsive to our requests…
Chispin, the Wednesday night before Tisha B’Av.The occasion is a siyum being made by an NCSYer. The kitchen staff are still setting up the meat meal to follow, so the actual siyum moves outside. In the middle of the Chispin campus there is a large raised hexagon. It has served as an unofficial meeting spot, the place from which we distribute late night snacks, and the venue for certain activities and programs. On this night, it is where the siyum is being held. The NCSYers are gathered around this stage listening to one of their own celebrate the great accomplishment of finishing Maseches Taanis. Something clicks into place. The common focus transforms the audience from a group of individuals to a greater sum. And because we are gathered in a circle we are witnessing this. Everyone is looking at the siyum and also at each other. The siyum serves to unify strangers and to give depth to the bonds between old friends…
Maariv after Shabbos, each week of the program.The decision has been made to limit our communal recitation of tehilim over the summer. The primary reason is a concern that too many tehilim, too often, will dull their effect and make it a mindless routine. We say tehilim each night after maariv, and the intensity matches the drama of the events around us. On the first Motzai Shabbos, a spontaneous singing of “Acheinu” follows the tehilim. It is a simple heartfelt prayer, that seems to become more poignant and personal each passing week. The “brotherhood” referred to in the song’s title and opening word is laden with meaning. There are, of course, the soldiers in Gaza, never far from our hearts and minds. There are the residents of the south, who bear the brunt of the attacks and costs of the war. We feel connected to them in ways that surpass anything we have felt before. But there is also an allusion to the brotherhood in our own Beis Medrash. This is affecting all of us, and we are in it together. No sports tournament or tiyul can bring a group together in a manner that matches what we have experienced together this summer. While as individuals we may cope and express ourselves in different ways, ultimately there is a communal response as well. This is our song…
Tisha B’Av afternoon, on the bus towards the Kotel. What are the contributing factors to the indescribable Kumsitz at the Kotel? Where does its power come from? And why is it uniquely associated with the NCSY Kollel? As beautiful as the singing voices may be, there must be nicer choirs out there. As many people as we are, there must be bigger groups. The answer may be sitting on the bus, in the third row, aisle seat. There is one of our Roshei Yeshiva, oblivious to the normal din and commotion of a bus ride. He is intently focused on a small gemara in his hand, learning one of the topics permissible for study on Tisha B’Av. There is no fanfare or live webcast here. But it is the secret to the kumsitz nonetheless. Our preparation for the singing at the Kotel did not start that afternoon and did not involve learning songs or melodies. It began the day we arrived and continues through every shiur, chavrusa, and chabura. A strong connection and allegiance to Torah and our Mesora is the direct link to the feelings of loss and yearning that inspire the Kumsitz. The leadership and participation of the Roshei Yeshiva inform our Tisha B’Av observance and we follow their lead. Before there was a kumsitz, there was a bus ride, a rebbe, and a gemara…
The same day, at the Kotel and broadcast around the globe. The Jewish people as a whole have great representation at this kumsitz. And as we get up off the floor, positioning changes and people find themselves standing arm and arm with whomever is in the area. A quick glance around the Kotel plaza reveals the simple beauty of the gathering. A Rosh Yeshiva finds himself beside a religious solider and a bareheaded older man. It seems like the most natural thing in the world. There is no question that they have much more in common than anything that might divide them. There is a roadmap to rebuilding and redemption…
Our “visit” to Beit Meir, before our full return. The residents of the moshav have always been remarkably hospitable. They practice extreme Hachnasas Orchim each summer in the way that they graciously host our program. It is a relatively small town, and our numbers make for an uneasy accommodation. They are proud to be the part of Israel that we get to witness first hand, and take seriously the responsibility to welcome all Jews. This summer has not been simple for them. Beyond their own anxieties from the call ups and sirens, they have been saddened by our departure. They feel somewhat abandoned and deprived of the ability to interact with the boys. Upon our return, they cannot hide their enthusiasm for our being back, nor their disappointment in our having left. The relationship between Israel and the Jews of the Diaspora is complex, and part of an unplanned curriculum for this summer…
Beit Meir, after our decision to be back for good.Those who have been with the program for multiple years are intimately familiar with every inch of the campus. While expansive for our purposes, the actual area is not large and easy to navigate. Its vistas and landscapes are well known to us. Something is jarring in one of these views. An old bomb shelter in the park, long used as a climbing toy for small children, is in its usual spot, but for the first time in our 15 years here its metal door is ajar, 24/7. The gaping entryway reveals steps that descend to parts unknown. This is new and unchartered territory, and a silent reminder of business not quite as usual…
A windswept basketball court, in an unused corner of the campus in Chispin. The conditions and location of the court make it unusable for our league games. But on this day there are two figures battling the elements and engaged in a spirited one on one. It is one of our veteran madrichim and a first time NCSYer. The NCSYer is far from sure why he is here. He is struggling to understand why and how the program is to be run in these circumstances. This small game will provide a large part of the answer. It is to provide him a chance to play and to bond with this madrich. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less. Fulfillment for the words of the prophets “..there is reward for your toil” this summer, can be found here…
Or here. Late night in the Chispin Beis Medrash, one of our first nights. A member of our Jr. Kollel staff (his primary responsibility is to learn mornings with the younger children of the educational staff) is sitting in the Beis Medrash. There are not many others there, but he is not alone. He has asked a quiet and shy NCSYers to join him. This staffer is not known for flamboyance or showmanship. He prefers to operate outside of the spotlight. It is a simple chavrusa. There will be no siyum or proclamations. It is just a student and mentor working for a few minutes to better themselves and to connect. They are completely unaware that they make it all worthwhile, and are justifying our efforts this summer…
Or maybe it is here. Friday night, on one of the modified free weekends. The group that has remained is singing Friday night zemiros. Although (because?) it is not our full strength of numbers, the singing is strong and powerful. There is an NCSYer who, for whatever reason, is not privileged to a Shabbos table of song on a regular basis. He quietly repositions himself at the table and finds himself between Rabbi Kaminetsky and Rabbi Lebowitz. These two leaders live on opposite sides of the globe, yet have found opportunities to sing together on Friday nights for over two decades, dating back to their time in Camp Mesorah in the early nineties. They intuit a playlist and are in sync and harmony. The NCSYer is a welcome addition to their table. There is something happening here that goes beyond very beautiful music. The singing lasts long into the night…
Shabbos in Chispin. Hotel rooms in the north are in great demand and overbooked all summer long. Shabbos is particularly crowded. You never know who you will see in the hotel lobby. Aside from the many groups that come in and out, there are occasional sightings of other persons of note. On our first Shabbos, we see Rav Shlomo Aviner, one of the leaders of the Religious Zionist community in Israel, check in. On the second weekend, it is Rav Dov Zinger, leader of the Mekor Chaim yeshiva in Kfar Etzion. Rav Zinger has been more high profile than usual of late, for the most unfortunate of reasons. He is the head of school in the Yeshiva where Naftali Frenkel and Gilad She’er learned. His steady leadership and great resolve have guided a nation through a period of deep mourning. He agrees to address our boys, but requires a translator. Rabbi Kaminetsky is the choice for that task. As expected, Rav Zinger’s remarks are inspiring, but it is also true that a picture speaks a thousand words. The image of two established principals standing side by side, separated by oceans and language but united by grief, hope, and an unshakable faith in the youth who comprise the future of the Jewish people is simply unforgettable. Although they have never met, they have been standing side by side for years…
Beit Meir, a recent beautiful afternoon. One of the quiet streets of the moshav. This is one of the spots with a spectacular view; on a clear day it stretches all the way to the Mediterranean. Much of the country is spread out in the distance. On the far right sits Tel Aviv. As you turn towards the left you can make out Ashdod and Ashkelon in the distance, and in the hazy beyond, even further south. There is a utility pole, and on it flies an old Israeli flag. This is no surprise, as Beit Meir takes great pride in its Religious Zionism. This flag has seen better days. It is frayed and faded, and the wind has twisted it into an awkward position. But it still waves, strong and true. The scene is breathtaking. The background is essentially the arena of the entire conflict. The flag is the foreground, somewhat wounded, but ultimately unbroken and unbowed. This summer there are no mere postcard panoramas. Everything is infused with meaning and significance…
The last Thursday night. Our seudas hoda’ah and farewell concert. We are sitting at the tables, enjoying the last moments of a great meal. Shlomo Katz is on stage, at the ready. He strikes the first energetic note. The room is transformed. Again, the specifics are unplanned. We happened to be sitting when he starts, and as a result it seems that 250 strong rise in unison. The sudden and overwhelming change to the room is astounding. The change to vibrancy and the highest of highs, in a matter of moments. And this was not the kind of performance where the pulsating musical beat obscured what we were hearing and singing. It is hard to remember or imagine a concert where the participants were more in sync with the words and music. Each song seemed to be a description of what we are and where we have been. It is impossible to choose a single example or highlight. Was it when we danced to “Ivdu es Hashem B’Simcha”? Yes, so many of the NCSYers now understand the need to serve God with joy and passion and pride. We are blessed with a religion with the strength to deal with pain and adversity. But ultimately, we find expression for our religious practice in times of happiness and excitement. The two cannot and should not be separated. We weren’t singing and dancing without care or concern. We were serving with elation and vitality. This is as it should be. Perhaps the climax to the evening came with the words Am Yisrael Chai. This has been our anthem all summer. It is a prayer and an affirmation. Every NCSYer dancing and exclaiming those words was making a loud and clear proclamation. We are still here, stronger and prouder than ever…
Friday afternoon, hours before our last Shabbos together. Showers and changing clothes, some early packing in anticipation for Sunday. On the courts, the teams competing in the championships are preparing for their final games. It is a time for reflection on 6 weeks that have been a lifetime. Many of the thoughts and memories above are common to all of us, in one form or another. These perspectives are part of our Shabbos preparation and will be underneath all of the learning, tefilos, and spirit of this beautiful Shabbos…
With that we wish you a wonderful Shabbos, as you continue to accompany us from afar on this journey. A week from now, many of you will be sharing Shabbos again with your sons and hearing from them a new list of memories and images. For now, we have just over 48 hours together to spend solidifying what we have learned and enjoying the most remarkable summer we have shared.
Wishing you a Shabbos of complete peace and beauty…
In gratitude,
Moshe Benovitz