Ethan Schwartz Blog - What is Camp Ramah?: Part 5

The tone and pace of prayer contrast starkly with the casualness and activity of most other scenes around camp. Yet this is precisely the reason that the summer camp setting turns out to be the perfect one in which to teach a commitment to davening. To see in daily prayer nothing but rote memorization is to ignore both its purpose and its meaning. No one can make children pray-but ask them to sit respectfully for the duration of a service and you can guarantee that they will think. In the simple act of regularly placing campers in a calm and quiet environment, Ramah does something rare: it provides campers with an opportunity for reflection-an opportunity that they are not likely to seek on their own. Ramah sets campers free within various contexts that are designed to differently channel their energy and facilitate their expression of self; prayer is one of these contexts. When a camper sits in services, the energy that is not being expressed through physical activity and conversation finds its outlet in mental activity and conversation with the self. The vivid absorption of the world that characterizes the active moments of camp is translated into remarkably contemplative thought when the camper is merely allotted some time to slow down.

Do all campers, then, skip merrily to morning services? Of course not. But Ramah does not pretend to value davening because the campers clamor for it. To understand the camp's insistence on prayer, consider your value of sleep. Prayer and sleep are states of opposite levels of consciousness, but the way in which we come to appreciate the two is rather similar. Young children wage wars with their parents come nightfall; there is nothing they dread more than the word "bedtime." Yet parents do not let this backlash undermine their own sense of sleep's importance. They firmly but calmly enforce a routine of going to bed-a routine that changes as the child grows until, eventually, he follows it entirely of his own accord, having reached an age where he appreciates sleep's rejuvenation and cherishes the suddenly rare opportunities he gets to enjoy it.

So it is with prayer. Spend time with the older aidot and you will find that many of these campers are beginning to find meaning in the structured service. They are reaching the age at which, pulled every which way by external forces, they begin to desire the opportunity for undisturbed time within themselves. They are thankful for the prayer routine that Ramah continually taught even when they were too young to understand its value.

Praying at Ramah teaches campers to reflect. They learn the power of their own thought to create new meaning in themselves-even before they realize they are doing it. They learn what prayer really is: not a rote recitation of ancient words, but a designated time for retreating into and exploring one's self.
The organized aspects of Judaism also strengthen Ramah's sense of community. Although much of Jewish prayer is personal and private, it is also a profoundly communal action. Prayer at Ramah is always a group affair, bringing people together and making them aware of each other as they all participate in the same process. Praying as part of a group amplifies its intimacy; swept up in the sounds of shared davening-which are among the most moving sounds in camp-campers sing louder and sway faster, feeling stronger connections with both themselves and the people surrounding them. They draw immense personal meaning from their contribution to the magnificence of a communal service.