In today’s fractured world, Jewish life is facing some heavy weather. Antisemitic incidents have reached historic highs across North America and Europe. Conversations around Israel and Zionism are increasingly shaped by distortions and hostility. And the broader world feels turbulent: politically divided, socially disconnected and, for many, emotionally frayed. It’s no wonder that Jewish expression can start to feel more like something we have to defend than something we get to celebrate.

In response, we have rightly invested in security, with stronger protocols, smarter advocacy and digital defenses. These are vital. But they also raise a deeper question: What exactly are we working so hard to protect? What kind of Jewish life are we trying to grow?

More than ever, we need to center Jewish joy. And we need to do it with intention.

Psychologists have long understood what Jewish tradition has known for millennia: joy builds resilience. Barbara Fredrickson’s “broaden and build” theory shows how positive emotions help us expand our thinking, deepen our connections and grow the inner tools we need to bounce back. Joy doesn’t ignore hardship. It helps us face it with strength and imagination. In plain terms, joy is fuel. It gets us through.

The Torah takes this seriously. It commands us to rejoice on sacred occasions — v’samachta b’chagecha — and to make sure that celebration includes “the Levite, the stranger, the orphan and the widow in your communities” (Deuteronomy 16:14). Joy, in this view, isn’t just a private feeling. It’s a shared practice of dignity, care and connection.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks z”l expressed it beautifully in his book Future Tense: “To be a Jew is to be an agent of hope in a world serially threatened by despair.” Jewish joy is not about ignoring the darkness. It is about insisting that the darkness will not have the final word.

The role of camp

If joy is so essential, we should be asking where it shows up most consistently in Jewish life. In much of the Orthodox world, joy is inextricably linked to Jewish practice and learning, as fundamental as belief itself. But outside of those circles, one particularly strong answer lies in the world of Jewish camp. 

Research from the Foundation for Jewish Camp shows that alumni of immersive Jewish camping experiences are more likely to feel emotionally connected to Israel (55%), light Shabbat candles (37%) and attend synagogue regularly (45%). The impact is real and long-lasting.

Camp’s power lies not only in outcomes but in approach. Campers build relationships with Israeli staff that make Israel personal. They explore Jewish values in art shops and on nature trails, sing Hebrew songs around the campfire and experience prayer through music, movement and connection. Jewish identity is woven into the rhythm of life, not through obligation, but through creativity, play and belonging.

I’m not saying camp is the only place this happens; but it is one model that shows what is possible when Jewish life is wrapped in joy and joy is wrapped in meaning.

So how do we make that kind of joy stick?

At NJY Camps, we have been trying to answer that question, knowing full well we are a work in progress. Last year, we began working with The Jewish Education Project, which supports creative and systemic approaches to Jewish learning. Together, we looked at how to make our Jewish enrichment efforts more cohesive, more deeply felt and more integrated into the camp culture. We are still figuring it out, but the questions are guiding us in the right direction.

More recently, we began collaborating with the Z3 Project, an initiative of the Oshman Family JCC that reimagines Israel-Diaspora relations. Our work with them will hopefully benefit the broader Jewish camping field, helping us all think about how Israel engagement at camp can move beyond symbolism and toward something rooted and relational; less episodic and more infused.

None of this is a finished product, but it reflects a shift from ‘Jewish moments’ to a more integrated Jewish way of life that we think our professional community is ready for — and that, in some places, is already happening. From content as curriculum to content as context, and from fixed programming to an evolving mindset.

Beyond balance

This is not just about getting institutions to work together more effectively. It is about rethinking how we design Jewish experiences in the first place.

Too often, we treat joy and depth like two sides of a scale. We add a little more fun here, a little more substance there, and hope it balances out. But that often leads to dilution or compromise. A serious moment gets softened with a pizza party, or a fun one gets interrupted by a lecture. Neither lands the way we want it to. 

Right now, with so many young Jews navigating fear, confusion and pressure, whether on campus, online, or in daily life, they need something more coherent and more powerful. They need Jewish spaces that are proud and grounded, that are light and deep at the same time. Instead of balance, we need wholeness.

What if we stopped asking how to make something more meaningful or more fun, and instead asked: how do we make it fully Jewish in ways that touch the mind, the heart and the community? What would it look like to design Jewish life that feels whole from the beginning?

This is not about adding programs. It is about reimagining design. It calls for professionals who are comfortable blending learning with storytelling, ritual with creativity and content with connection. It requires cross-training, thoughtful experimentation and a willingness to measure success by how Jewish life feels, not just by what gets delivered.

Jewish joy is not a luxury. It is not a bonus feature. It is the energy source for everything we hope to build. If we neglect it, treat it as fluff or forget to nurture it altogether, we risk raising a generation that sees Jewish life as one more source of stress instead of a wellspring of meaning.

Our liturgy reminds us that joy and responsibility go hand in hand. As we say in the Shabbat morning Amidah, “Yismach Moshe b’matnat chelko,” “Moses rejoiced in the gift of his portion.” That portion was not one of ease; and still, he found joy in it.

That is our task. To build communities that nourish the soul as well as the mind. To protect not just Jewish safety, but Jewish celebration. 

This is the case for Jewish joy, not as a distraction, not as an escape, but as our clearest path forward.

Sam Aboudara is the chief operating officer and executive director of NJY Camps, one of the largest Jewish camp complexes in North America.