11 Jul THE SHUL WITH THE WORST DECORUM IN THE WORLD
This past Shabbos, I
found myself
davening at the shul
with probably the
worst decorum in the
world. People were
not just talking, but
some were screaming, shrieking, and
hollering, others were stomping their
feet, banging on the tables, hitting the
walls, and jumping up and down. There
were individuals pacing back and forth,
others coming in and out, doors
constantly squeaking and slamming
shut. It was, by far, the most distracting
davening I have ever experienced. It was
also, by far, the holiest davening I have
ever been privileged to witness.
The Shul at Camp HASC is filled with
boys and girls and men and women with
special needs, physical and
developmental disabilities including
autism, Down’s Syndrome, cerebral
palsy, and others. Few can participate in
davening in the traditional sense; many
are not verbal, and most don’t seem
cognitively capable. Yet, one cannot
help but feel the noises being transmitted
from the holy, pure neshamas of HASC’s
campers ascend to the highest places of
prayer.
To be clear, HASC doesn’t have a staff,
they have a roster of malachim, angels
who selflessly devote themselves in
ways that are superhuman. Because of
the level of care and support necessary,
each camper has a counselor, a one-to-
one ratio. They shower, change, carry,
push, cradle, and most of all, smother
their campers with love.
At davening, the staff members hold
their siddur in one hand and their
camper’s hand in the other, or they
interrupt their shemoneh esrei to pursue
their camper who is on the move. As we
belted out a beautiful and leibedig
Kabbalas Shabbos, several campers put
on talleisim, each thinking they were the
chazzan, while younger campers sat on
their counselors’ shoulders, those who
could danced in circles and others
watched from their wheelchairs, often
contributing a moan, groan, or shriek.
A visit to HASC is an accelerated
advanced degree in Chesed, an invitation
to access the biggest Beis Medrash of
Ahavas Yisroel in the world. You cannot
come out the same way you entered as
you leave a witness to Klal Yisroel’s
capacity for kindness, for loving a fellow
Jew with no judgment or conditions, and
you cannot help but be inspired to
improve your own.
Over Shabbos I met an autistic, 15-year-
old young man named Zev, who is
mostly nonspeaking. Until recently, little
was known about his thoughts, feelings,
and aspirations. After days of diagnostic
testing, the “experts” had determined
that Zev had the intelligence of an
18-month-old. But in the last few years,
Zev and his similar friend and fellow
camper Srulik have worked with an
extraordinary communication therapist
who utilized the latest techniques to
teach how to type and communicate
non-verbally.
It turns out that while on the outside
Zev and Srulik seem developmentally
stunted, often unable to understand, they
take it all in and is filled with deep
thoughts, ideas, and Divrei Torah.
Last month, in honor of his sister’s
wedding, Zev’s parents published a
booklet of his Torah thoughts that he
typed letter by letter. The first entry,
Zev’s first Dvar Torah, said the following:
Moshe Rabeinu could not talk perfectly.
In spite of this disadvantage, he was our
greatest teacher. It seems to me the
lesson is clear. It is not the talking that
makes a man great, it is the listening and
understanding of the messages of
Hashem. I think I never had the ability to
know my listening was my strength
because I looked only at a lonely, quiet
life. Now I have hope for my future, the
chance to learn Torah, to become a
mensch, may you be inscribed in the
book of life!
The booklet has entries on several
parshiyos, Jewish holidays and
concludes with a message Zev typed to
be shared with students of a class he
joined to study Torah three times a week:
My name is Zev, I am happy to learn
here. I have autism and I cannot talk very
well, but I think normally. Please do not
be concerned If I make noise or organize
things. I may not be able to control my
impulses. Please talk to me normally and
not simplified. I look forward to being in
Navi class.
One of the first things Zev shared was:
“My brain is smart; my body is dumb.”
As I read this pamphlet and looked at
Zev, I simply couldn’t believe it. What
was happening on his inside did not
match what I could see
on the outside.
Externally, he was
“broken,” disabled, and
seemingly a typical
special needs individual.
On the inside, he was
whole, smart, capable,
thoughtful, and
articulate. The staff
member who introduced
me to Zev and his Divrei Torah told me
this breakthrough not only enormously
transformed the way he views Zev, but it
has also had a tremendous impact on the
way he views all the campers, especially
the non-verbal ones.
The bottom line is this: We have no idea
what is going on inside a person, what is
happening beneath the surface. And
then it struck me, this lesson is of course
true outside the walls of Camp HASC
and it applies in both directions. How
many people who seem “whole” on the
outside are really broken inside? How
many who seem abled on the surface, are
in fact disabled emotionally or spiritually
beneath it?
The Mishna (Pirkei Avos 2:5) teaches:
“Al tadin es chavercha ad shetagia
limkomo — don’t judge your fellow
until you reach his place.” One can
never, ever reach the place of their
fellow, we can’t know their experiences,
history, unique personality, assets and
liabilities, talents and temptations, so
how could we judge them? If we are
honest, we don’t even have access to
reach their place, their innermost world,
what is happening inside, so how could
we have an opinion or sit in judgment?
I am not saying we shouldn’t hold
accountable those who have used their
free will to injure, harm, or make choices
that impact others negatively. However,
Chazal are enjoining us not to assume,
judge or disparage simply based on what
we see. One would have to “reach his or
her place,” something we simply cannot
do.
We find ourselves in the three weeks,
the period of mourning and grieving for
the tragedies of Jewish History, the
destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, and
for the challenges we continue to face
today, including antisemitism and anti-
Israel efforts. Our rabbis were not shy in
telling us the cause of it all, and the
reason redemption has not yet happened:
sinas chinam, hatred, animosity, enmity,
and judgment of one another. When we
focus on our differences, when we see
the deficiencies in the other, we sit in
judgment, we feel tension.
When entering Camp HASC you must
walk past a large banner that sets the
tone for everything that happens on that
holy campus: “I hereby accept upon
myself the positive commandment to
love my fellow as myself.” The
inspiration for the sign at the opening of
camp comes from the Arizal’s suggestion
for the opening of our davening. The
great Arizal taught that before we can
speak to Hashem to pour out our hearts
for what we want and need, we must first
pledge and promise to love Hashem’s
other children, to see what we have in
common, not what divides, to give the
benefit of the doubt, not sit in judgment,
to practice ahavas chinam, unconditional
love, not sinas chinam, baseless hate.
A different Mishnah (Avos 1:6) tells us:
Hevei dan es kol ha’adam l’chaf zechus,
judge each person in a favorable manner.
Rav Menachem Benzion Sacks points
out that the Mishnah subtly includes a
strategy for judging others favorably.
Rather than say hevei dan ha’adam
l’chaf zechus it says hevei dan es kol
ha’adam l’chaf zechus, judge the entire
person favorably. The key to drawing
positive conclusions is to remember
there is, in fact, an entire person, an
inside and outside, what you can see and
know, and what you will never fully
understand.
For those capable of doing more, we
should strive for better decorum than the
HASC Shul. And if we want to bring
Moshiach and end this galus, we must
adopt the HASC Shul’s environment of
unconditional and non-judgmental love
and the HASC’s entry sign that charges
us all, knowing that while at HASC
some look broken on the outside and
they are whole on the inside, there are
those in our communities who look
whole on the outside but really are
struggling with brokenness inside.