After my mystical experience at the ranch at age 12 (described in my last post), I continued to find a spiritual connection outdoors, and like so many it happened at summer camp. Around the same time as my experience in the Hill Country, I attended a Jewish “Y” camp in the Poconos where my parents had worked in their youth. Although the camp wasn’t heavy on Jewish content, the vibrant experience of Shabbat at camp shaped me forever.
At home, all I knew about Shabbat (the Jewish Sabbath from sundown Friday until stars-out on Saturday night) was that my mom put a Kleenex on her head (apparently we belonged to the Kleenexite sect of Judaism), waved her hands three times around some candles and sang a blessing. At camp, I realized that Shabbat was a 25-hour holistic experience: changing from our grungy weekday clothes into Shabbat white and dancing down to the lakeside amphitheater as the sun set to sing and dance and welcome the Shabbat queen. I made up my mind to experience that again.
Between the ranch and camp, I was well on my own winding path to a calling of service in the Jewish world, and nature would always be a part of that. When I finally entered the ALEPH Rabbinic program decades later at age 36, many important moments in my training would take place at outdoor gatherings, particularly at Elat Chayyim retreat center in the Catskills (now incorporated into Isabella Freedman), with its woods and organic garden.
Judaism is a religion tied to land, first to the Holy Land, and to the planet itself: “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof” (Psalm 24). Our holidays are connected to the seasons in agricultural Israel, our ritual objects are full of nature motifs, and once a year we spend most of a week in a leafy hut! As I’m learning right now in an online class with Dr. Melila Hellner-Eshed, the Zohar, that great book of Jewish mysticism, emphasizes that Torah and encounter with the divine happen best as one strolls outdoors. Indeed, for the mystics, nature is the outer garment of the Shechinah, the divine presence herself.
With the rise of environmental consciousness, nature and spirituality are coming together once again. As a rabbi, I lead my community on contemplative “Soul Strolls” on some Shabbats, among other outdoor activities on our beautiful Delaware beaches. In previous congregations, I’ve led religious school mountain retreats and B-Mitzvah class hikes. My congregation has a Green Team leading our environmental mitzvah projects, and our religious school families participate in such events as Jewish ocean environmental group Tikkun HaYam’s “Reverse Tashlich” (an international beach clean up day prior to Rosh Hashanah).
Today, the ALEPH Rabbinic Program in which I studied offers studies in “Earth-Based Judaism,” and across Jewish denominations there is a burgeoning movement of JOFFEE (Jewish Outdoor Food, Farming, and Environmental Education), typified by such organizations as Adamah and Wilderness Torah.
As an adult, I’ve been fortunate to live in proximity to beautiful natural places that nourished my soul, including four years in Israel when I was in college. Back in the states, I continued to connect to the Texas Hill Country, before life took me to Northern California, the Hudson River Valley of New York, and now to the beauty of Coastal Delaware (with a pit stop and ongoing connections in the Philly area). Thanks to these wanderings, my family and I have gotten to experience some of the most diverse and spectacular scenery that our country has to offer.
When I finished my rabbinic studies in 2000 and graduate school in 2009, I turned to a new project, creating Wellsprings of Wisdom, a website about Jewish symbols in nature. Since I’d been shaped by summer camp and retreat centers, I aspired to create a kind of virtual retreat center where people could ponder the meaning of these symbols in Jewish tradition and their own lives. I incorporated Jewish texts, personal experiences, nature photography, video clips, soundtracks, and meditations, and related social media on Facebook, Instagram, and now here on Substack.
One thing led to another and soon I was getting serious about the art of nature photography. Eventually I started a second website to share my nature photography. But I didn’t really grasp how much this holy hobby meant for me until others pointed it out for me. In an exercise at a group meeting during a rabbinic fellowship, we were asked to describe some mundane object that we used each day, and our relationship to it. I chose my camera. Others in my circle noticed my enthusiasm:
“Do you realize how you light up when you talk about your camera?”
“You become more animated.”
“This is your unique gift as a rabbi! Embrace it and share it,” they said.
Since coming to Seaside Jewish Community here in Coastal Delaware, I’ve used nature photography as a tool in my rabbinate. Not only do nature photos adorn some of the synagogue walls, but during High Holiday services, held at a local church, nature photos are shared on large overhead screens at various points during the service. I use prints of my photos to make cards and small gifts that I use in pastoral care and education.
I truly believe that the earth is our greatest Mishkan, our holy sanctuary and divine dwelling place. More and more, I find my own deepest spiritual practices in Nature, strolling and engaging in nature photography. I hope that my Nature Rabbinate in person and online will inspire folks to connect with their community, their heritage, and our planet.
Your Turn:
Do you have a holy hobby or a special gift that you share with others? Anything related to nature? Please tell me about it in the comments.
Love this. I have no dedicated holy hobbies but I do make a practice of…practicing(?)writing, art, *being* in general.
This retired GISer is VERY HAPPY!!!!!