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Connecting with the Divine in the Outdoors

By Rabbi Eliav Bock

This blog post was originally featured as part of the Rabbinical Assembly’s #HeshbonHodesh: Nisan monthly newsletter. 

This past Shabbat morning, I suited up my baby daughter in her winter gear, put on my own jacket and gloves, put her in the hiking backpack and headed out the door for my Shabbat teffilot. It is a ritual we have practiced almost every shabbat over the past year, so long as the temperature is above 20 degrees, and it is not raining. Walking around my suburban neighborhood I sing, out loud, often clapping and dancing to the words of the morning prayers. It is a practice started last March when I thought I would be gone from shul for only a few weeks. I watched the early spring turn to the hot summer, to the vibrant fall, to this past snowy winter. I watched the brook, where I often stop to recite the Amidah, go from a thawing stream, to a small trickle in the late summer, to a frozen slide the past few months. 

I connect most deeply with the Divine when I am outdoors. I experience radical amazement when looking at flowers and trees. I understand what it means to become I and Thou when I am staring at a hillside about to burst with green leaves and turning brilliant hues in the fall. The sun, the breeze and even the bitter cold allow me to feel the Divine energy in my daily life. 

Pre-pandemic, the only place I consistently prayed outside is at Ramah in the Rockies. My ten weeks at camp, davening in the high mountains, are usually the highlight of my spiritual year. I am often able to coast on that spiritual nourishment when I return to my indoor suburban synagogue for a few months, only to crave a healthy dose of outdoor teffilot by late winter. A gift of this pandemic has been to give me a reason to pray outside, almost every shabbat for an entire year.

I miss seeing other people on Shabbat morning. I miss my elementary age boys coming to shul and having friends to play with while I sit in the service; but I do not miss sitting in a sanctuary. I hope that we can once again gather for in-person communal prayer, but I also know that walking and davening, even in a cookie cutter suburban neighborhood, can provide an enriching and sustaining teffilah experience.

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The Power of the Outdoors: A Spoken Word Poem

2014 Tzevet Tipus [Rock Climbing Staff], Noah Kaplan, wrote this spoken word poem this summer about the power of the Masa [backcountry excursion] experience.  Words to the poem are below the video.  We hope you will enjoy this!

 

For five days we leave behind our phones, we forget about conventional conveniences, the clutter of the day, we sweep it all aside for a while to find what hides behind our eyes unclouded by wifi. For five days We breathe the fresh air cradled rocky and strained by aspen groves, sipping on the sweet smells of summer fed to us by our sky Hashem whispers to us, adventure is out there. We, who fly a whole mile high, there is nothing like this ride. We call this time Masa, the journey. We leave early and pack light, for we plan to travel far, wide, We give up our complex comforts for a simpler sense of service to ourselves, of preference and priority, of sound, Listen, adventure is out there, listen. It’s laping at your shore. This song never gets old.  We leave our watches, our roofs, and yes often our bathrooms, for a timeless place, a forever truth in nature. These ancient languages have not been lost, the trees still whistle and hum in the breeze with their lips bigger thaan SUV’s and their tongues that never get tired, are you listening? Can you hear it? We call this time Masa, this place, the Journey. We are in search of adventure, in search of god and each other, we are the Masa, the journey and for four nights the moon is our spotlight, watching as the stars nod across the sky to tuck us into that silver darkness, nothing is warmer, nothing is freer than this blanket this fire by our side, we, the pioneers of our own potential have  songs with their endless arms reaching upward, there is something magic about this circle, these hurtles, this path untraveled, you’ll find your potential is just as endless, listen as the wind plays the trees against the drumming, there is rhythm to discover in our feet. Learn what it means to feed yourself full to this beat, what it means to push yourself more, to take care of your core, to be apart of this team, born of a collective dream, we are all in this together, strip the white noise of the city from your skin, we should all know this everything, and to make memories that do not require batteries. Write stories with your every step. For five days and four nights we learn to take care of our bodies, our minds, our souls. Look up, Hashem is all around us out here, this air, this water, these lives and laughter let its voice fill you, climb its mountains, ride it smooth, move with purpose, groove, climb, bike, shoot, lace up your boots. It is time, Learn precision and how to sleep by its side, no lie, out here we are the pioneers of our own potential, the students of our surroundings, the reverent citizens of our world, there is no end to this road, us all a part of this team, this whole, this time, like an endless smooth sounding rhyme, with light hearts, and laughter, find us pushing our limits going faster choosing the challenge that will bring us forward, for there is no end to this road. This journey where we sing ourselves to sleep and awake in the morning with the possibilities simply at our feet, all around us, waking up to find that adventure is out here.

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