Toward the Retreat Shabbat
Some things never change. Finding one’s place is sometimes a challenge in a 1,900-member community like BJ, but that was also true three decades ago, when it was much smaller. When Ruth and I joined BJ in early 1990, there were about 400 members; by 1992 that number had grown by 50%. There were lots of new people looking to make connections. What to do?
We came to BJ as refugees from another synagogue. There were many things we were happy to leave behind, but its close-knit community was not one of them. Important to building that community were the annual weekend retreats held at kosher hotels in the Catskills—in those days, there were many to choose from! I thought a retreat might help BJ, so I took the idea to Roly. He was enthusiastic, but he made clear (very politely) that we would not be retreating in the Borscht Belt. Instead, we should go to Camp Isabella Freedman, a Jewish seniors camp in northwestern Connecticut. And as a reward for suggesting the idea, I was appointed chair of the first (and then second) BJ retreats, which took place in 1992 and 1993.
To get a feel for those retreats, think Jewish summer camp Shabbat for adults and families: less-formal services; long Shabbat meals with lots of singing; children running around with the kind of freedom it’s hard to give them in New York City; and plenty of time for recreation, schmoozing, and snoozing. Set in rolling hills on the shore of a small lake, Isabella Freedman proved to be the perfect place for the retreat, even if its guest rooms were (very) far from “deluxe.”
As hard as we may try, it’s tough to disconnect on Shabbat in New York. We rush to get to Kabbalat Shabbat, followed by Shabbat dinner at our table or a friend’s, then Shabbat morning services at 88th Street, and finally Saturday afternoon on our own until it’s time for Havdalah and whatever Saturday night in the city brings. By contrast, the retreat was an integrated whole. It flowed smoothly from welcoming Shabbat in the synagogue—whose tall windows looked out across the lake to tree-covered hills—and continued through services and meals, perhaps a class, frisbee on the lawn or a hike in the woods, a nap (!), and finally, after Havdalah, a talent show (very campy) and a bonfire and s’mores. We spent 25+ hours with the same people, ranging from toddlers to seniors, living at a pace that was, well, Shabbat-like.
Although we’ve had many specialty retreats over the years (prayer, women, early childhood families, etc.), it’s been a long time since we’ve had a community retreat. We’ll be at a different venue, in Pennsylvania, that also happened to begin life as a Jewish seniors camp, but I predict that the vibe will be unchanged from that first retreat more than three decades ago. I’m looking forward to it, and to not being the chair!
Shabbat shalom,
Irv Rosenthal
Top image: Poconos sunset