Join friends for routes through pine forests, farmland, and local villages, culminating in a barbecue lunch of kosher, pasture-raised meat from Grow and Behold, followed by an interactive marketplace of local, sustainable vendors, swimming and boating, children’s programming from Teva, and more! Your participation supports Hazon Philadelphia in running innovative Jewish programming on food, health, and  sustainability.

Not a cyclist? The Ride wouldn’t be possible without our dedicated crew, who support and cheer on riders, help behind the scenes, and then enjoy the lunch and afternoon with their rider friends. Registration sold out last year, so sign up today! hazon.org/phillybike

This past Sunday, over 100 members of the Jewish community, from New Bedford, MA to Brattleboro, VT, gathered at Hebrew College in Newton, MA, for the first Jewish Climate Action Network conference, “From Uncertainty to Action: What You Can Do About Climate Change.” According to Rabbi Arthur Waskow, it was the first conference of its kind, “I would have heard about it,”  he told us, if there had been another.

For four hours, we learned together, sang together, talked together, and connected to each other. And through all this, we were inspired, motivated, and recharged. It was an amazing afternoon. I am grateful to all those who helped make it happen, and to all those who took the time and energy to come. It was a vision fulfilled; it was a start, not and ending. It was a new beginning, of putting the Boston area Jewish community into the conversation about climate change.

As Jews, we are deeply rooted in Torah and in community. Today, we brought these together in the context of climate change.  The power of that connection was felt by every one present.

We will go forward from here, together. We will grow stronger. We will become more connected. We will build community. We will build enthusiasm and determination. We will weave networks of interdependence, caring, compassion, and trust. We will speak out. We will bring about change.

We will make a difference.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network. 

Summery of the conference:

• Panel exploring what Judaism adds to our understanding and ability to respond to climate change
• Two rounds of workshops, each of which will provide concrete information about a specific way to respond to the threat of climate change and to connect with others
• Opportunity to speak with community organizations and businesses involved in environmental work
• Special workshop for teens and tweens
• Short wrap-up program highlighting what has been accomplished and providing a send off
• Facilitation of informal gatherings for dinner at nearby restaurants those who want to continue the conversations.

A schedule and descriptions of workshops and bios of workshop leaders can be found at http://www.jewishclimate.org/may-2015-conference.html

When: Sunday, May 17, 3-7 PM

Where: Hebrew College, Herrick Road, Newton
Registration: https://secure.hebrewcollege.edu/form/uncertainty-action-what-you-can-do-about-climate-change

Cost: $18 donation (optional); students are free.

Co-sponsors include: Hebrew College, Center for Global Judaism, Hazon, LimmudBoston, Shomrei Bereshit: Rabbis and Cantors for the Earth, and others.

“May the merciful One turn our hearts toward the land,
so that we may dwell together with her in her sabbath-rest the whole year of Shmita.”

Harachaman hu yashiv libeinu el ha’aretz
l’ma’an neisheiv yachad imah b’shovtah, kol sh’nat hash’mitah!

הָרַחֲמָן הוּא יָשִיב לִבֵּינוּ אֶל הָאָרֶץ לְמַעַן נֵשֵב יָחַד עִמָהּ בְּשָׁבְתהּ, כָּל שְׁנַת הַשְׁמִיטָה

The words of this blessing were written by Rabbi David Seidenberg. Nili Simhai made it into a singable liturgy by setting the words to the “Sosne Nigun” by Jonah Adels, z”l. (Listen to the song at www.neohasid.org/resources/shmita-harachaman.)Harachaman blessings come after the main part of the blessing after the meals, and they ask for special blessings, including blessings related to Shabbat and holidays. Sing it at your Tu Bish’vat seder and at every meal this whole Shmita year!

Shmita means “release”, and the Shmita year is about release or liberation for the land, liberation between the people and the land, and liberation between people themselves. This Harachaman blessing references all three kinds of liberation, and it does that by using three different verbs that include the letters Shin ש and Bet ב. The first, yashiv, comes from the word “turn”, lashuv, לשוב, and it refers to our returning to a right relationship on a heart level with the Earth. The second, neishev, comes from “to settle” or “dwell”, lashevet, לשבת, as in shevet achim gam yachad — how good it is for brothers and sisters to dwell together, and it refers to liberation between individuals in the year of release, when debts are canceled and food is shared. The third, b’shovtah, comes from lishbot, לשבות, to rest, and it refers to the shabbat that the land itself enjoys in the Shmita year, as it says, “the land will enjoy her sabbaths”. This is the true nature of tikkun olam: tikkun, repair and restoration, on all these levels together. That is what must happen to fix the world.

You can download the PDF at neohasid.org/pdf/Shmita-Harachaman.pdf or get a PNG graphic of the blessing at neohasid.org/resources/shmita-harachaman/ (there are 8 Harachamans per page) to use at your Tu Bish’vat seder and for every meal during this Shmita year.

The words fit into the song like this:

Harachaman hu yashiv libeinu
el ha’aretz, el ha’aretz
Harachaman hu yashiv libeinu
el ha’aretz, el ha’aretz 

l’ma’an neisheiv yachad imah
imah b’shovtah
neisheiv yachad imah
imah b’shovtah

kol sh’nat hash’mitah
kol sh’nat hash’mitah
kol sh’nat hash’mitah
kol sh’nat hash’mitah

About Eden Village Camp: Eden Village Camp aims to be a living model of a thriving, sustainable Jewish community, grounded in social responsibility and inspired Jewish spiritual life. By bringing the wisdom of our tradition to the environmental, social, and personal issues important to today’s young people, we practice a Judaism that is substantive and relevant. Through our Jewish environmental and service-learning curricula, joyful Shabbat observance, pluralistic Jewish expression, and inspiring, diverse staff role models, we foster our campers’ positive Jewish identity and genuine commitment to tikkun olam (healing the world). Our 3 acre educational farm and orchard are based on principles of permaculture, sustainable and organic farming. We produce annual vegetables, perennials, and tend educational gardens as well as animals.

About the Farm Educator Apprenticeship: This is a paid six-month apprenticeship for young adults seeking hands-on experience. In the Spring build your knowledge based on agriculture, farm-based education and Jewish community. In the Summer, work at our 8-week intensive summer camp as Jewish Farm Educators. In the fall, take ownership and integrate your new skills by diving deeper into independent projects.  Live on-site at our beautiful camp, one hour north of New York City. By joining the farm staff at Eden Village, apprentices will hold two main responsibilities – tending our growing spaces and educating in our all of our programming through the spring, summer and fall. Apprentices will also have an opportunity to dive deeper into one of four focus areas: perennials, annuals, animals, and educational gardens. In these specialties apprentices will gain a deeper understanding of certain aspects of farming and will take on leadership and special projects to booster their learning and the learning of campers and program participants.

Details: April 14th, 2015 – October 22nd 2015, Apprentices receive full room and board at Eden Village, as well as a modest stipend. Extensive experience is not necessary but experiential curiosity is required. We recommend you explore our website thoroughly to get more information about our apprenticeship, farm, camp, and more at Eden Village Camp.

More questions? Explore the FAQ page. For all other questions, contact farm@edenvillagecamp.org

This ia a free opportunity for young adults 19-29 to come together in an interfaith setting for Jews, Christians and Muslims to live, farm and study together from June 1st – July 23rd 2015 at the Stony Point Conference Center in Stony Point, NY, with time for mentoring and vocational discernment. It is a Multifaith, Peace, Justice and Earthcare program. We seek students who are grounded in their religious tradition, serious about spriiuality and the state of the planet, and open to learnig and living in an intentional community setting. This is our 6th annual program run by the Community of Living Traditions on the Stony Point Center 32 acre campus.

For more details and to apply go to: www.stonypointcenter.org/SummerInstitute Deadline is March15, 2015

17 Cricketown Rd, Stony Point, NY 10980 845-786-5674

• 4 days of kosher farm-to-table food in a pluralistic Jewish community and a rockin’ New Year’s Eve “Butterfly Masquerade” party
• Rabbis and leaders in Jewish thought bringing to life history, ethics, Jewish text, meaningful prayer, and more
• Expert cooking demonstrations and hands-on learning with renowned chefs
• Homesteading workshops with farmers and city folk for backyard chickens and beekeeping
• Conversations and take-home resources about food justice that will engage you in questions such as: How do poultry and pollinators affect what we eat, and how does what we eat affect them? What governmental policies are supporting or detracting from our ability to uphold our food values? And how does being Jewish fit into all these foodie issues? Learn from the experts and you will never look at eggs, bees, or food prices the same way again!

Two weeks ago, on Rosh Hashanah, we marked not only the beginning of another year in the Jewish calendar, but the beginning of Shemitah, the Jewish sabbatical year.  Every seven years, Jewish farmers in Israel are commanded to let their lands lie fallow, not to plant, plow, prune trees or in any way improve the land, to harvest only what they can eat themselves (from perennial plants that do not need to be sown each year), and to leave the rest for whoever wants to pick them. In addition, at the end of the Shemitah year, we are commanded to release debts.

Shemitah has become a hot topic among progressive American Jews, largely as a result of an awareness campaign by Hazon, the largest Jewish environmental organization in North America.  Given my involvement with Hazon, and the Jewish environmental movement more broadly, people I speak to are often surprised to hear that I am deeply ambivalent about efforts to adopt some form of Shemitah-observance outside of Israel.  My reservations are threefold:

1. As an Orthodox Jew, who sees Shemitah primarily in halakhic (legal) terms, I’m leery of efforts to redefine Shemitah in a way that is counter to the halakhic tradition. By suggesting that Jews outside of Israel should be practicing some version of Shemitah, we risk disparaging the halakhic tradition, which tells us Shemitah is primarily about agriculture and exclusively applies to the land of Israel.
2. There also seems to be something almost anti-zionist about taking a commandment that by law only applies in the land of Israel (a “mitzvah teluyah ba’aretz”), and applying it elsewhere.  This would seem to represent a basic denial of kedushat ha’aretz, the sacred status of the land of Israel in Jewish law and imagination.  To be sure, in the days of the Sages, Jews in Egypt and Babylonia adopted practices that by law only apply in Israel, such as tithing their produce, but even so, they stayed away from Shemitah (and, in fact, tithed even during the shemitah year, when Israeli farmers practicing Shemitah were of course exempt from tithing).
3. Any effort to transpose Shemitah outside it’s existing halakhic framework depends on a clear understanding of the underlying values of Shemitah. While I have no theological or halakhic objection with the attempt to identify the underlying values of mitzvot such as Shemitah, this is a process that requires serious study, and must be approached with deep humility and an open mind. Otherwise, it is all too easy to just look for our own pre-existing values in the mitzvot.  As an environmentalist who believes that in order to survive as a society, we need to move beyond industrialized, petroleum-driven mono-crop agriculture, it would be very easy for me to say Shemitah must be about practicing sustainable agriculture. It’s much harder to honestly ask what Shemitah is doing, and to look for answers with an open mind among the details of the law and the writings of great thinkers.

Because of these serious reservations, I have been hesitant to join in with others in the Jewish environmental world in adopting shemitah-type practices outside of Israel, or practices deemed to be “in the spirit” of shemitah.  But I do want to participate participate in this once-every-seven-years opportunity for a conversation about halakha, values, and utopian social visions.  As an Orthodox rabbinical student, the most obvious and natural way for me to start engaging with Shemitah, is simply to study the sources. After spending this past summer studying the laws of Shemitah as found in the Mishnah, the Yerushalmi and in Rambam, and reading what some Jewish thinkers over the centuries have said about the underlying values of Shemitah (for an excellent summary, see Shemitah by Rav Yosef Zvi Rimon).  I found myself, in spite of all my reservations, thinking about taking on practices for the year that would embody some of the underlying values of Shemitah.  The question remained how to do so in a way that would be respectful of halakha and sanctity of the land of Israel, and that would be intellectually honest.

The third concern is in some ways the easiest to address.  While I still believe it’s impossible to fully understand the meaning of a mitzvah without actually practicing it, in the case of Shemitah this is not a realistic option. Even in Israel, less than 2% of the Jewish population is professionally involved in agriculture, and in any case, legal work-arounds enable the agricultural economy to continue to function during the Shemitah year with some minor adjustments.  Without the option of an immersion in the gestalt experience of keeping Shemitah, our next best option for understanding the mitzvah and its underlying values is a thorough study of the halakhic and philosophical literature on the subject.

Even after spending a summer studying the subject of Shemitah, I don’t feel like I can say what THE value behind Shemitah is. Even were I much more learned and wise than I am, and even if I felt I understood Shemitah perfectly, my instinct tells me that few mitzvot, if any, can be boiled down to a single motivating value, certainly not a mitzvah as complex as Shemitah.  However, I do feel that, based on what I’ve read as well as my own thinking, I can with some confidence describe SOME of the values that seem to be inherent in Shemitah.

This removes the third concern.  What about the first two? These amount to a worry that by removing Shemitah from it’s traditional halakhic parameters, we risk insulting the halakhic system and denying the sanctity of Eretz Yisrael.  Both of these concerns can be addressed by adopting practices and a rhetoric that make it clear that we are not attempting to co-opt halakhic Shemitah for Chutz La’aretz.  While I know that others have made different choices, I would never dream of refraining from plowing, pruning, planting, or harvesting in the United States, the activities which constitute the core of Shemitah observance in Eretz Israel.  However, by taking on some purely voluntary restrictions that are intended to have some of the same effects as Shemitah, without attempting to mimic the form of the mitzvah, I hope to experience a taste of Shemitah without doing a disservice either to the halakha or to Eretz Yisrael.

I’ve been particularly interested Rav Kook’s idea of the Shemitah as a special year to disengage from the burden of worldly pursuits, in order to allow the inner divine light to shine more fully.  I’m also interested in the Chinukh’s idea that Shemitah is about relinquishing personal control over the earth and recognizing God’s sovereignty over the earth.  So, beli neder (without taking a vow) I’ve decided to adopt three special practices for the year that seek to reduce my own exploitation of natural resources, help me reduce my involvement with an unsustainable and spiritually toxic consumer culture and allow me more time and energy to focus on the things that really matter in life, all without attempting mimic the halakhic observance of Shemitah in Eretz Yisrael.  First I plan to forgo recreational air travel (one of the most expensive and resource-intensive means of getting from point A to point B). I’ve also decided to avoid buying any new non-consumable goods— any clothes, appliances, hardware or books I buy for myself this year must be used.  Third, I’ve decided give up my mobile data plan, in order to take back some the time and mental space that I had relinquished to the constant checking of my mobile device.

I feel it’s important to emphasize that I do not see these choices as way of observing Shemitah.  The halakha is very clear about what observing Shemitah means, and that, with the exception of releasing debts, it only applies in Israel.  They are, rather, my way of trying to bring some of the values of Shemitah into my life this year.

Finally, I want to say that my intention in writing this has not been to disparage anyone else’s approach to Shemitah.  For all the concerns I’ve described, I think it’s exciting that Jews of all stripes are talking about what Shemitah means and trying find ways to live the fundamental rhythms of Jewish time.  Moreover, I think anything that gets more Jews thinking about how to live a more spiritually and ecologically sustainable life, in a way that is authentically Jewish, is a good thing.

Cranberry Shabbat 

Saturday, October 25,  Raindate, November 1

Wachusett Reservoir, Boylston

Join us for our annual Cranberry Shabbat. We will intermix songs and prayers with wild cranberry picking, and share a picnic lunch at the end. Please bring something to share and your own drinks and utensils. (Warm soup sounds good for a picnic in October!) Also bring containers for the cranberries. Most of our pickings will be given to a homeless shelter for their Thanksgiving dinner. There may be muddy spots, so be prepared footwear-wise, and it could be windy and chilly along the water. Please RSVP to Ma’yan Tikvah for details.

contributed by all the organizations and initiatives on “the Map” http://jewcology.org/map-of-initiatives/

Here’s a quick bit of Sukkot Torah to start us off: “The four species of the lulav represent the four types of ecosystems in the land of Israel: desert (date palm), hills (myrtle), river corridors (willow), and sh’feilah, the lowlands (etrog). Each species has to be fresh, with the very tips intact – they can’t be dried out, because they hold the water of last year’s rain. Together, they make a kind of map of last year’s rainfall, and together, we use them to pray for next year’s rains.” I hope everyone enjoys the wonderful array of activities and ideas we are generating. We are a strong and beautiful network. Please add more to this list if you like: write to rebduvid86@gmail.com and I’ll update this page. I will also be updating the format and fixing the fonts — I don’t have time Erev Yom Kippur to do more than simply share this content. Thank you to everyone who shared, and g’mar chatimah tovah! Rabbi David Seidenberg, neohasid.org

Resources

from Judith Belasco, Hazon

http://hazon.org/educational-resources/holidays/sukkot/ Hazon also has an incredible array of resources on Shmita linked at: http://hazon.org/shmita-project/educational-resources/resource-library/

from the Religious Action Center

“Eco-Friendly Sukkot”  http://resources.rj.org/Articles/index.cfm?id=1369

“Table Texts about Food Justice” http://rac.org/pdf/index.cfm?id=23602

from Max Arad and Rabbi Carol Levithan, The Rabbinical Assembly

“The Sukkah as Shelter: A Source Sheet” http://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/sites/default/files/public/jewish-law/holidays/sukkot/sukkah-as-shelter.pdf See also: http://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/jewish-law/holidays/sukkot

 from Jeffrey Cohan, Jewish Vegetarians of North America

“Sukkot, Simchat Torah, and Vegetarianism” http://www.jewishveg.com/schwartz/hlydysu.html

from Rabbi Katy Z. Allen, Ma’yan Tikvah

Ushpizin for an Ecological Sukkot by Laurie Levy https://docs.google.com/file/d/0BzF1ISt_50TyVG9lWE0zOXJpd1k/edit

from Rabbi Arthur Waskow, Shalom Center

14 articles on Sukkot at: https://theshalomcenter.org/treasury/114 including “Reb Zalman’s Prayers for the Earth on Hoshana Rabbah” and “Spread over all of us a Sukkah of shalom, salaam, paz, peace!”   from Rabbi David Seidenberg, neohasid.org “How-to Build a Sukkah For Under $40” http://www.neohasid.org/sukkot/a_simple_sukkah/ more links at: http://neohasid.org/zman/sukkot/ including “Eco-Torah for Sukkot”, “Hoshanot, the Original Jewish Earth Prayers”, and “Egalitarian Ushpizin with a Prayer for the Earth”

 from Canfei Nesharim via Rabbi Yonatan Neril

resources can be found at http://canfeinesharim.org/sukkot/ and on Jewcology http://jewcology.org/resources/sukkot-shemini-atzeret-resource-and-program-bank/

 also from Rabbi Yonatan Neril, for Jewish Ecoseminars

http://www.jewishecoseminars.com/let-the-land-rest-lessons-from-shemita-the-sabbatical-year/

 from Nati Passow, Jewish Farm School

Two resource sheets for Shmita to be posted on Jewcology – look for them on Monday before Sukkot

 from Anna Hanau, Grow and Behold Foods

Recipes (meat): http://growandbeholdblog.wordpress.com/tag/sukkot/

Events

We have three big regional festival events going on, Sukkahfest, Sukkot on the Farm, and Sukkahpalooza, and lots more local events:

 from Judith Belasco, Hazon/Isabella Freedman

Oct 8-Oct 12, Sukkahfest at Isabella Freedman Retreat Center http://hazon.org/calendar/sukkahfest-2014/

 from Pearlstone

Oct 8-Oct 12, Sukkahpalooza http://pearlstonecenter.org/signature-programs/sukkot/

 from Sarai Shapiro, Wilderness Torah

Oct 9-Oct 12, Sukkot on the Farm, Green Oak Creeks Farm, Pescadero CA http://www.wildernesstorah.org/programs/festivals/sukkot/   local events and projects:

from Hazzan Paul A. Buch, Temple Beth Israel, Pomona CA

Our synagogue will break ground during Sukkot on a 1/2 acre urban farm on our property, in cooperation with a local NGO. The farm will be fully managed by the NGO at no cost to us, and all workers are paid a living wage. The produce grown will be available for purchase to our congregation and sold at farmers markets in the area. A portion will be dedicated to those who are food insecure. Question for everyone: Do you know of any other synagogues who have dedicated their land in a similar way?  Please note this is not an urban garden, but a functioning not-for-profit commercial project.

from Becky O’Brien, Boulder Hazon

Oct 6, at 5:30 pm, family sukkot program, in partnership with the south Denver JCC Oct 12, at 4:00 and 7:00 pm, screenings of “Road to Eden”, co-sponsored with the Boulder JCC Oct 16, Sukkot Mishpacha, a program for young families at a local organic farm Rabbi Julian Sinclair stopped in Denver/Boulder on his recent book tour promoting Shabbat Ha’aretz; we hosted five programs with him earlier this month. We are leading a shmita hike for local staff of Jewish organizations to help them decompress from the hectic time of the high holidays. We expect that many shmita-related programs will arise throughout the year but we don’t yet know what they will be.

from Helen Bennet, Moishe Kavod House

Fri Oct 10, Shabbat in the sukkah Tues Oct 14, Sukkot Festival dinner, co-hosted with Ganei Beantown (Leora Mallach). Moishe Kavod is planning to run a series of learning and DIY sessions on shmita starting in November, with focuses on economic justice, food and ag system, and chesed/caring community principles.

 from Gail Wechsler, St. Louis Jewish Environmental Initiative (JEI)

Sun Oct 12, 4-6 PM, screening of the film “Fire Lines”, about joint Israeli and Palestinian fire fighting efforts during the Carmel fire of December 2010. The film includes environmental themes as part of the reason for the fire was overforestation of the affected area. The director, Avi Goldstein, will speak after the film.  In partnership with the Jewish Community Relations Council, Webster University and the JCC.

followed by:

Sun Oct 12, 6-7:30 PM, organic potluck Sukkot dinner. In partnership with the JCC and its Garden of Eden, a community garden that grows organic fruits and vegetables to benefit the clients of the nearby Harvey Kornblum Jewish Food Pantry. Both events at the Jewish Community Center Staenberg Arts & Education Building.

from Michael Rosenzweig, Boulder JCC

We have a great event each year called Sukkot Mishpacha, where we partner with a local farm so the children and families can learn about environmental issues, do fun arts and crafts projects, and pick their own gourds. http://www.boulderjcc.org/events/2249/2014/10/14/boulder-jcc-events-calendar/sukkot-mishpacha/ Note: I have not included narrative detail in general here, but I found Rhonda Ginsberg’s description so delightful to imagine and I just didn’t think I could condense it. So here is what she wrote to me, with some minor editing:

from Rhonda Ginsberg, teacher, Carmel Academy, Greenwich CT

For Sukkot we do a 4 year rotation focusing on different aspects of the holiday.  The first year of the cycle we invite the ushpizin and have the 7 species at a festive meal.  The second year we look at wind with kite flying as a major activity, the third at rain and water, and the last year at stars and shade. Each exploration is done both from the Judaics side with text study and from the science/experiential side. This year we are looking at water.  For the K to 3rd graders, teachers act out the story “Why Does it Rain on Sukkot”, MS. Frizzle (science teacher) comes to teach about rain & why it’s needed, then students rotate through stations that are led by 4th graders and teachers.  At the stations they investigate kosher tops for pipework sukkot, create rain sticks, have various water activities & races, sing songs & learn the dance “Mayyim”.  For the 5th to 8th graders, they start with an appropriate text study.  Then, the 6th through 8th graders become the instructors teaching the other grades about the aspect of water that they researched and created a project for.  6th graders look at the water cycle, which they present through posters, dioramas, etc.  They also perform a song and skit on the water cycle.  7th graders research water pollution – causes, effects, and possible solutions.  8th grade engineering students investigate flooding – causes, effects, how engineers have created solutions.  8th grade honors biology students investigate droughts, concentrating on trouble spots in the Western US, Israel & the Middle East, and Africa.  They also look at causes, effects, & possible solutions.  Then we have a Simchat Beit HaShoava – the biblical Water Libation ceremony which took place during Sukkot in Temple times, with students singing, dancing, juggling, filling pools with golden pitchers, etc.

Outdoor High Holiday Services with Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope

Rosh HaShanah Day 1, Thursday, September 25, 9:30 AM, Cedar Hill Camp

265 Beaver Street, Waltham, (accessible by MBTA bus)

Click here to carpool to this service.

Rosh HaShanah Potluck Dinner and Shmita Seder, Thursday, September 25, 6:30 PM, Location TBD, in Wayland

Rosh HaShanah Day 2, Friday, September 26, 10 AM, Greenways Conservation Area, 60 Green Way, Wayland

Kol Nidre Service, Friday, October 3, 6:45 PM, Church of the Holy Spirit, 169 Rice Road, Wayland

Click here to carpool to this service.

Yom Kippur Morning, Saturday, October 4, 9:30 AM, Cedar Hill Camp, 265 Beaver Street, Waltham, (accessible by MBTA bus)

Click here to carpool to this service.

Neilah Service and Break-fast, Saturday, October 4, 6:30 PM, Church of the Holy Spirit, 169 Rice Road, Wayland; Break-fast will be at a nearby private home

Ma’yan Tikvah celebrates the High Holidays in the woods with morning services on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur as well as Kol Nidre services on Erev Yom Kippur. The services are led by Rabbi Katy Allen and are a combination of traditional and nontraditional; they are informal and participatory for those who wish to add their voices. Morning services are held outside, or if the weather requires it, under an outdoor pavilion. There is time to sing, to appreciate the natural world around us, to meditate and pray, to read and discuss the Torah portion, to hear the sound of the Sofar on Rosh HaShanah, and to remember our loved ones during Yizkor on Yom Kippur. On the first day of Rosh HaShanah, our services are followed by a pot-luck lunch and then tashlich.

We will have a very different service on the second day of Rosh HaShanah – a hike interspersed with meditations, prayers, discussion, and the blowing of the shofar, and the day will include a picnic lunch – bring your own. We will through the fields and woods and end with a picnic near the Sudbury River.

Our Kol Nidre service is mostly indoors, but if weather permits we go outside for part of the service. We will also have a short Neilah service at the end of Yom Kippur followed by a pot-luck break-fast. All are welcome, including families with children. The sites for the first day of Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur are handicap accessible.

For more information or to register, go to www.mayantikvah.org and click on Shabbat, Holidays, and Classes, or call 508-358-5996 or email rabbi@mayantikvah.org.

I am in my favorite place at my favorite time: in the garden, in the morning, before the cars have started up, before the noise of lawnmowers and leaf blowers. The crickets are singing, the birds responding. The rising sun’s light filters through the leaves. A beginning.

It has been a tough year in the garden. An endless winter caused a late start and temperatures have been cooler than usual. A call from critter to critter that I cannot hear lets them know there is bounty on my corner. Maybe it’s because the peach tree lost its flowers in a hard spring rain, but squirrels have eaten a fair amount of my produce this year, taking a bit of a turnip and leaving the rest (yeah, I’m not surprised). Mice, too, have traversed here. I have never seen one, but my garden helpers have. Let’s not forget the birds.

At the same time, the blackberries went wild. Literally. I have cut them back and dug up new plants several times. Cucumbers abound. Arugula sings its symphony. The carrots are fat and rich. I could go on. But what hits me this year is the contrast between disappointment and satisfaction; the moments of wondering why I do this at all, pitched against the incredible feeling of gratitude when I bag up 4 bags of produce filled with veggies, fruits and herbs, for our local food pantry. When neighbors come by and tell me they’ve been feasting on the blackberries. Who wouldn’t?

This is the rhythm of the Elul and High Holy Day season, the time when we take stock. How many things did not turn out the way we wanted them to this year? How many grapes did we plant that turned sour? (Most have mine have been chomped on by critters.) What do we do? Do we become depressed or disheartened? Angry? Do we give up? Or do we plant more seeds?

Perhaps we do all of the above. Perhaps we need to feel the grief and disappointment of our losses and our failures. Perhaps we need to feel the frustration. But Elul and the High Holy Day season tell us this is only part of the process. For us to fulfill the essence of this time of year demands that we somehow find a way to get to the other side. Maybe that includes a change of project, or maybe it means finding a new way in the same project.

I sometimes think that it is all the difficulties involved in growing food that inspired our Jewish ancestry to move away from its agricultural roots. This was revived, however, with the kibbutz movement in Israel’s pioneer days, and is experiencing further revival all over the Jewish world today. As we demand more sustainable lifestyles and healthier, more affordable foods, we are revitalizing our synagogue and neighborhood networks to feed ourselves and the hungry around us.

Even as I write this I observe a critter that has found her way into the grapevines. I go over to see the culprit. A squirrel. She takes her time untangling herself from the vines, climbs up the adjacent telephone pole, and when far enough away from me to rest in safety, turns. I see the bulge in her mouth. She takes out her dessert – a nice, fat purple grape, and eats it in front of me.

Not all of our plans will fruit the way we hope or plan. But this is the season to harvest the best of our works this year, and to plan and plant again, for a fuller, richer, more bountiful harvest in the year to come.

May your Elul and the year to come be rich with new ideas and renewed energy to plant and see them bear fruit.

Robin Damsky is the rabbi of West Suburban Temple Har Zion in River Forest, IL, (wsthz.org) where in the temple garden’s first year, congregants donated over 120 pounds of produce to the hungry. Rabbi Damsky educates others while cultivating and donating her own food as well from her organic, edible landscape. She is the mother of Sarah.

My King, where do I quest for comfort and consolation

in times of weariness and aching of my soul?

Where do I seek wisdom when the burden of errors

regrets and sadness accompany my hours?

Where do I cherish and find refuge and sanctity

when I am transparent and exposed to myself?

My Lord, Your streams wash over aching,

Your mountains call to look up to You,

Your grasses and undergrowth cushion the heel and every step,

Your flowers bring joyful response to all inquiry,

Your trees are time worn standing presence ,

all are Your reminders and the presence of Your will.

Your sparks in nature both embedded and revealed

remain always as a reminder of Your presence here,

of our connection, oneness and our journey home.

Elohim, Your earth, all nature is both dwelling place

and shared identity as all that is here speaks of You.

My seeking is ever satisfied as You and I are here,

in creation, naturally, forever one.

Copyright 2014 Judith E. Felsen, Ph.D.

Judith Felsen holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, certificates in hypnotherapy, NLP, Eriksonian Hypnosis, and Sacred Plant Medicine. She is a dancer of sacred circle dance, an AMC kitchen crew , taril information volunteer, trail adopter, and daily student of Torah and Judaism. She is enrolled in Rabbinical Seminary International. She has studied Buddhism, A Course in Miracles, and other mystical traditions. She is a hiker, walker, runner, and lives in the White Mountains with her husband and two large dogs. Her life centers around her Jewish studies and daily application.

We will be the change we want to see

I am squatting

I am wringing laundry with my hands

I am picking chunks of dirt from the soles of my feet

I am learning to smell the open sewer when I breathe in and out

I am walking

I am jostling in a vikram, in a small car that must have the air conditioning switched to off in order to make it up the Himalayan Mountain where love calls

I am exhausted

I am exhilarated

I am joyful

I am fretting as we weave ourselves up the steep slope and you can see where the cars have already fallen off the cliff

I am terrified when I come upon a mighty pack of horses thrown into the road that barely fits one car—

Let alone the screaming families that want to test their fate on these trails that have seen no rain yet— not me

I am sore

I am flexible

I am sleepless and full of thoughts; I need a vacation from my mind

This landscape that changes when I turn the corner now, the next moment and the moment after that, this landscape is heavy and full and I feel that way—

Pregnant, ready to give birth

To ideas and poems and thoughts and love for those that come to share the same dust and dirt—

For a day, a week or months at a time—

One man who will live like a baba

I have found the nomadic family from which I once sprung

We walked and walked looking for a place to set camp

We the family

The agents of change

Aged and ageless are we

Tireless and tired

Policy makers, activists, farmers, and worker bees

We will be the change we want to see

Andrea Cadwell MA, MSc is a consultant for non- profits and NGO’s worldwide. She focuses on sustainable economic development and resiliency in addition to policy development and implementation.

I’d like to speak about Joy.  I know that Elul is upon us; a time for relentless self-reflection, spurred on by the blasts of shofar.  And yet, the rabbis in their complexity have added another dimension to Elul, Love. Remember the acronym for Elul?  It’s from the Song of Songs, Ani l’dodi v’dodi li - I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.  Reciprocal love is spiraling back and forth right here in Elul along with our lists of how we missed the mark.  Isn’t this worthy of attention?  What might it mean?

I’m not sure, but it’s certainly not insignificant.  Rabbi Akiva said that if all of Tanach (the five books plus all the prophets plus all the writings) is the Holy Temple, then the Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies!  The Song of Songs is sensuous and loving, filled with sexual desire and yearning; lovers are seeking fulfillment on every page.  We all know that steamy passion can easily burn and destroy, and yet, Rabbi Akiva holds this up as the archetypal place of holiness.  Blessed Be.

This is why I’m turning to joy this Elul.  The Song of Songs is reminding us that loving and desirous energy defines our relationship with the world, with the Source of Life.  Far from being unrequited, it is given back fully.  And then, when I receive the love I’m desiring, I feel fully me, fully seen, feeling even fuller than me!  I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.  This face of loving joy is also a face of Teshuvah.

I heard that the great psychoanalyst Milton Ericson tells a story of a mean nasty man who never smiled.  He became thunderstruck and lovesick with the new school teacher in town.  He asked to see her formally, and she said, only if you clean up your ways and try to smile once in awhile.  The goofiest grin came over his face, kindness filled his heart and he never looked back.  They lived happily ever after, smiling and holding hands like young fools until the end of their days.  Who says love is not powerful!

But wait, if Rabbi Akiva is saying that this great love is our birthright, then it also means there is nothing to earn.  I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.  Our very natural relationship with the world itself is to love and be loved in return merely because we are alive!  Why is it so hard to imagine and carry this intense level of joyful loving?

Teshuvah can help me learn the ways that I actively block this joyous knowing; the many ways that I pickle myself in worry and bewitch myself in fear.  The ways we are unaware that our lifted hand blocks the sun and yet we can only whine and wonder why the light is so dim.

The social scientist Brene Brown adds another facet.  She asked why is it so hard to maintain our joy?  Her research discovered our fear of the vulnerability that leads to grief.  She noticed a widespread and uncanny ability to use fantasies of disaster to try and inoculate ourselves.  You know, the way we can look at something beautiful and say, ‘uh-oh, what’s coming’.  The sad truth is that these fantasies do not protect us at all, they just rob us of our joy.

Amazingly, her remedy, her tikkun is gratitude.  Practices of gratitude in the moment; utterances of thankfulness for what is here right now, irregardless of what may happen in the future.  Hmmmh, the rabbis teach that 100 blessings a day keeps the Dr. away (or something like that-smiles). A good practice for Elul, eh?  With blessings of gratitude, I can remember the utter uniqueness that is life; the perpetual joyous singing that is the symphony of the natural world.  Fortified with joy, I can face the stark truth about the many ways that I and my community inflict personal and planetary harm.  Like Milton Ericson’s mean man, If I’m bathed in love who knows what I will be capable of!

Let the Joy deeds of gratitude be fruitful and multiply! As Rumi said, “Let the beauty we love be what we do.  There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.”  In the name of Joy, let’s bless all that we hold precious… the Rabbi’s blessings, yes, and even more!  A child’s song, a friends laughter, cooking (and eating) a special meal for/with loved ones, silent welcoming of dawn and dusk, calling good morning to the birds, saying Shehechianu when the Junco’s come in the fall and the constellation Orion appears overhead, when the chicory blooms in July and the tomatoes ripen in August are all for me special joyful moments worthy of honoring with a blessing of gratitude.  What other myriads of blessings would you like to add?

May your Elul be meaningful and filled with the joy that only love can bring.  Here’s a joyous love poem adapted from psalm 150.

Jump, Sing Out,

Raise Joy, right here in your chair.

Celebrate life’s source

in your home, in green fields,

at rivers edge, from high ledges.
Remember how we are supported,

as lilies in open water.
Blast your car horn,

turn up the radio,

sing loud with the windows rolled down.

Whisper love at night. Remember Nothing,

than moan with delight,
whistle with puckered lips,

click your tongue.

Tap one, no, stomp

both your feet;

pop fingers, clap hands, slap knees,

hoot, howl, bang your chest,
clash and rattle your tin pots.

Raise joy high with this holy commotion.
With every single breath. Hallelujah.  –Adapted from psalm 150 by Maggid David Arfa

The weekly Haftorah readings follow the story of the Israelites after they crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land.  The writing styles vary greatly, from poetry to historical prose.

Of particular note are writings from the time of the divided kingdom. Conquests of the Northern Kingdom of Israel and the Southern Kingdom of Judah were seen by the prophets as divine punishment for failure to follow the Torah.  The writings from this time are full of harsh rebukes and biting metaphors. This is the type of reading found in the weeks leading up to Tisha B’Av.

Once Tisha B’Av is over and the High Holidays are approaching,  the tone changes. Both Torah and Haftorah readings become infused with literary beauty – the lyrical prose of Deuteronomy accompanied by the lovely poetry of the late Isaiah, filled with images of nature’s grandeur as a reflection of the divine, beckoning us to look around at the world and the heavens and there find G-d.

This turning away from harshness towards hope and tenderness reflects the history of the period.  Seventy years after the destruction of Solomon’s Temple and exile in Babylonia, the ascendancy of Persia brought a king who allowed the Jews to return to their homeland.  Isaiah’s writings from that time offer consolation and hope for a future of life back in the homeland.

Thus Teshuvah – a return from exile to home, from harshness to spiritual comfort, and, for us, a turning from the concerns of ordinary life to a remembering of the divine – is undertaken in a milieu of beauty which awakens the soul to the process of positive change.

We know that the perception of beauty affects us deeply.  We crave beauty, we seek it out, we spend our precious moments dwelling on that which offers it.  So, for example, the harmonies of violin music are so arresting as to bring tears to our eyes.  A Dutch still life entices us with its intricacies and balance; time stops while we gaze at it. Intense patterns on flowers are gorgeous beyond human imagination. Birds’ plumage dazzles us with striking elaborations.  The music of  synagogue prayers draws us in; we sing and the notes hum inside us. We gaze at colors of a sunset sky; we rush outside to see a rainbow.

We perceive beauty and drink spiritual nectar – tasty, nourishing, filling.  Every single human being is endowed with this faculty, through whatever sense functions within them.

On the physical level, there seems to be no biological utility to this capacity we have for deep appreciation of certain “results” of our five senses. Call it a gift from G-d, a blessing.  But still, nothing in biology is maintained unless it endows the species with something positive to strengthen and perpetuate itself.  The biologic utility of the pleasures of food, sex, etc seems obvious. But what about the pleasures of seeing or hearing beauty in nature or in the artistic creations of humankind?

This pleasure feels like an instinctual form of love, an immediate response on a tiny scale.  Suppose you come across a wild iris in the woods.  The iris is existing happily in its own environment; it doesn’t need you for food or water. You find it beautiful, it pleases you.  You have experienced a quantum of love for this little iris. Now you care about it. A connection has been made.

A piece of music stirs us – how beautiful! It was composed by a human being, played by other human beings. We don’t know them; they may look nothing like us. And yet, some of that sense of beauty, that love we felt for the music spills out onto the humans who created it.  A connection has been made.

Look out over a swath of treetops. The pattern of greens and rounded shapes is so pleasing.  We can’t help but love the trees, plus the whole web of nature that sustains them and relies on them.  A connection has been made.

Our ability to take pleasure from the natural world and from artistic creations of humankind creates threads of connections  between each of us and the myriad elements of nature.

Beauty does have biological utility. It is the antidote to narcissism and loneliness.  It connects us to the web of existence in the world, causes us to care about it, love it, and of course, do everything we can to preserve it.

Genesis was right.  We are stewards of the world.  We are the only species that can preserve it or cause large scale destruction of it.  Look for beauty in the world and there you will find the passion to preserve it.

Lois Rosenthal is a member of Temple Tifereth Israel Winthrop where she teaches Hebrew School, does Bar/Bat Mitzvah tutoring, and participates in Shabbat services.

I wasn’t sure visiting Yad Vashem, Israel’s official Holocaust memorial, would leave an impression on me; after all, I had heard it all before. Not only that I had absorbed the notion that all of humanity’s reckless violent ways were behind us. Genocide, alas, is so common that it has its own major in college, which, unfortunately, does not fall under archaeology. Remarkably, this practice continues to this day.

The typical story arc of the Holocaust goes like this: those awful Germans wanted to murder all the Jews and almost got away with it. That’s why it’s so important that Israel be the Jewish homeland. Truth is, that’s not how it happened. Our Yad Vashem tour guide emphasized two central principles that shaped post-Great-War Germany. The first was “it was a process.” From ideas to curfews to ghettos and pogroms to work camps to death camps, these activities started small but gradually intensified. The second was “groupthink” or peer-pressure, as I like to call it. This also intensified over time where, at first, one might simply be given a funny look for non-conformity; quickly, the consequence was being sent to the same work camps as the other “undesirables.”

What struck me was that both of these principles are surprisingly universal. Society’s norms tend to have inertia and thus, it takes time for them to change (i.e. it’s a process). Similarly, conformity (the result of peer-pressure) is a feature, sometimes more prevalent than others, but one which nonetheless appears consistently across societies throughout time. In light of this, the images around me began to take on a different meaning. Where once the people behind the barbed wire were innocent and those in front of it evil it became clear that the Germans were not born to be cruel just as much as the Jews, Gypsies and handicap were not born to be victims. Contrary to Nazi doctrine it was not genetics that determined the outcome but circumstance and societal forces that steered the paths of oppressed and oppressor. Where innocent Germans once stood, in hindsight they look pretty guilty. Not all of them, and certainly not equally, but the responsibility lies across societal echelons. Atrocities do not commit themselves.

Where the Holocaust is used to justify a Jewish state where Jews can be safe, the lesson I got was that what Jews (and frankly all ethnicities) need is a country where simply every ethnicity is safe. If we, today, can see the pure humanity of the people that stood in the Warshaw ghetto and ask ourselves, “Why didn’t they just let them live like everyone else?” then we must ask the same question of today’s ghettos. We may have no relationship to them, and yet, the way to treat them is clear: just the same as all other humans.

The quote that titles this essay does not refer to murdering Jews and comes from neither a 1939 German nor a 1945 German. It comes from my relative and was made, with a shrug, in reference to the inhabitants of Gaza. Euphemistically known as “mowing the lawn”, let’s just call it what it is: genocide. This teshuva, let us take a good look in the mirror. How are we supporting genocide? More importantly, how will we stop it?

Can an honest resident of the USA look in the mirror and not find genocide? Not find ecocide? Not find harm to future generations by how we treat each other and the Earth that nourishes us all?

I think it’s worth reflecting on.

Alexander Volfson, a humanist and Earth-ist, loves finding ways to bring folks together to work toward sustainable lifestyles. Alexander is a co-founder of  Transition Framingham. When he’s not fixing things (from appliances to bicycles to computers) or planting them (for a permaculture designed garden), he’s biking somewhere or learning something new.

Whatever your source of despair, whenever your heart shrinks from bold, firm action, remember atonement and returning to God means affirming hope. Remember the old joke about the man on the roof during rising floodwaters? Drown fear, squelch everything you know, grab the helicopter ladder, and be rescued.

Rabbi Judy Weiss lives in Brookline, MA with her husband Alan. She teaches Tanakh and volunteers with Citizens Climate Lobby.

What is the shape of time? This question may sound strange, but it actually guides us to understand the process of teshuvah, our great task at this time of year.

In one dimension, time is circular, repeating in endless cycles. “And the seasons they go round and round…” Every year in the natural calendar, the same seasonal patterns repeat at the same times. In the Jewish calendar, we observe the same holidays, rituals, and rhythms each year. In the process of teshuvah we return to our self, coming home to who we were before we drifted away over the course of the year. Every Rosh Hashana, as we return to that moment in the circle, we return to the self we have been on every other Rosh Hashana; the days are cosmically connected by being the same point on the circle.

Yet, we are also moving forward along the arrow of time. Life is always in transition, and no moment ever recurs again exactly. Winter may return to the same spot in the same forest, but the trees are a year older, and some branches have fallen, and new ones have emerged. We return to ourselves each year in teshuvah, but we are also in a different place: we have had new experiences, made new mistakes, learned new lessons. Every Rosh Hashana is entirely different from every other Rosh Hashana. In the Jewish conception of time, we are always moving toward a better world, the Olam Haba, the “world that is coming.” Joanna Macy calls this movement from our current state of affairs to the world we envision the Great Turning, a “shift from the industrial growth society to a life-sustaining civilization.”

So is time a circle or an arrow? It is both. Time is a helix, the shape you see on a corkscrew; it moves forward along a line, but circles around as it does so. Each Rosh Hashana, we are aligned with all of the Roshei Hashana of past and future years, but we are also in a unique place in time, that never was exactly before and will never be exactly again.

Teshuvah, then, needs to recognize both processes. It is a returning, coming back to ourselves year after year no matter where we’ve been. And it is a turning, perhaps even a Great Turning — turning away from the mistakes and triumphs of the past and turning toward the next steps in our ultimate mission: to bring about the redemption of the world.
Daniel Kieval is finishing three years of work as a Jewish environmental educator with the Teva program in Falls Village, CT.

by Rabbi Regina Sandler-Phillips

Ecology and economy, spirituality and social justice are directly connected in our Jewish values of heshbon (accountability).  Every time we open our wallets or check our bank balances, we face issues of heshbon — no less than when we search our souls (heshbon hanefesh) during this Season of Turning.

How are we “spending” each day of our lives?

The ancient sage Ben Zoma (Mishnah Avot 4:1) taught that the wise are those who learn from every person; the brave are those who control (literally, “occupy”) their own impulses; the rich are those who rejoice in their own portions; and the honorable are those who honor creation and its creatures.

This integrated four-fold teaching offers a blueprint for sustainability in the coming year of sh’mitah / release.  Each of us can learn how to appreciate our abundance, to moderate our consumption, to discern which of our expenditures truly honor creation and its creatures — and to control our impulses regarding those purchases that do not.

Agricultural rhythms of tithing through the sabbatical cycle have given us the financial ethics of wealth redistribution on a proportional basis.  In order to share our wealth proportionately today, we need clarity about our actual discretionary spending and our place in the world economy.  Membership in the global “one percent” is a surprisingly low bar for affluent Americans — and experience has shown that peer support is needed to bring this spiritual, financial and environmental heshbon to the next level.

Welcome to Nedivut Tzedek / Generous Justice, an intergenerational network of Jewish learning circles for just giving.  Our circles renew the Jewish values and practices of heshbon through study, storytelling, supportive action / reflection, and cultural development.   Participants learn how we vote with our daily money choices for the state of our world, and how to mobilize the power of those choices for social change as well as for greater personal fulfillment.

Generous Justice circles are taking root within local communities through a series of local outreach programs, building momentum toward a retreat-based leadership training in August 2015.  A resource manual will be available beyond the 2015 training to extend the reach of Generous Justice to additional communities of concern.

When our personal tzedakah meets the ethical metric of proportional giving, we discover how much we can really afford to contribute toward the causes most important to us.  After that, setting distribution priorities becomes a process of ongoing action / reflection in the service of change.  We put our money where our mouths, hearts and minds are, making thoughtful course adjustments as appropriate — and we let the earth rest from our relentless consumption.

Throughout the coming sabbatical year, Generous Justice will bring together Jews across generations, income levels, personal temperaments, spiritual orientations and political ideologies to support each other in realizing our full giving potentials.  Like our ancestors, we will start from wherever we are, with whatever we have — and keep the issues in proportion.

© 2014 by Rabbi Regina Sandler-Phillips

Rabbi Regina Sandler-Phillips is the project director of Nedivut Tzedek / Generous Justice, and the executive director of WAYS OF PEACE Community Resources in Brooklyn, New York.

Elul is here. It represents a chance for heightened introspection, an opportunity to do teshuva and improve our lives, before the “Days of Awe,” the days of judgment, the “High holidays” of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The shofar is blown every morning (except on Shabbat) in synagogues during the month of Elul to awaken us from slumber, to remind us to consider where we are in our lives and to urge us to make positive changes.

How should we respond to Elul today? How should we respond when we hear reports almost daily of severe, often record-breaking, heat waves, droughts, wildfires, floods, and storms; when atmospheric carbon dioxide levels have reached 400 parts per million (ppm) for the first time in human history, far above the 350 ppm that climate experts believe is safe, when polar ice caps and glaciers are melting far faster than projections of climate experts; when some climatologists are warning that we could be close to a tipping point when climate change could spiral out of control with disastrous consequences, unless major changes are soon made; when we appear to also be on the brink of major food, water, and energy scarcities; and when, despite all of the above, so many people are in denial, in effect “rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic as we approach a giant iceberg”?

I believe that we should make it a priority to do all that we can to awaken the world to the dangers and the urgency of doing everything possible to shift our imperiled planet to a sustainable path. We should urge that tikkun olam (the healing and repair of the world) be a central focus in all aspects of Jewish life today.

We should contact rabbis, Jewish educators, and other Jewish leaders and urge that they increase awareness of the threats and how Jewish teachings can be applied to avert impending disasters. We should write letters to editors, call talk shows, question politicians, and in every other way possible, stress that we can’t continue the policies that have been so disastrous.

The afternoon service for Yom Kippur includes the book of Jonah, who was sent by God to Nineveh to urge the people to repent and change their evil ways in order to avoid their destruction. Today the whole world is Nineveh, in danger of annihilation and in need of repentance and redemption, and each one of us must be a Jonah, with a mission to warn the world that it must turn from greed, injustice, and idolatry, so that we can avoid a global catastrophe.

Richard H. Schwartz, Ph.D., is Professor Emeritus of College of Staten Island, author of Judaism and Vegetarianism, Who Stole My Religion? Revitalizing Judaism and Applying Jewish Values to Help Heal Our Imperiled Planet, other books, and 200 articles at JewishVeg.com/schwartz, President Emeritus, Jewish Vegetarians of North America (www.JewishVeg.com); President, Society Of Ethical and Religious Vegetarians (SERV), and associate producer of A SACRED DUTY (www.aSacredDuty.com).

My compost bins are so much more than just a place where compost happens. The area beside the three wire and wood bins is place where I often feel my father’s spirit – he was raised on a farm, and though he became a professional, gardening was in his blood, and he spent much of his spare time in his garden and his orchard.
 

Yet, it is not just the reminders of my father or the sense of his hovering spirit that gives meaning to my compost bins. They are symbolic of so much – which may be more the truer reason that I think of my father whenever I take out the compost.

We gardeners deposit plant food wastes, garden trimmings, and chopped up leaves into our compost bins. We let the rains come to add water, and from time to time we add a bit of soil. Then we let nature take its course, and before too long, all of that “waste” has turned into dark, crumbly humus that will enrich the soil of our garden. The leaves, the banana and orange peels, the corn husks – all this and so much more has been transformed from something seemingly useless, a by-product, into something good, useful, and enriching.

And when my heart is feeling heavy, and I sit quietly beside my compost bins, I, too, get transformed. The grief and sadness in my heart are lifted, and I find myself once again able to be useful, to myself and to others. I am able to forge ahead into new territory. My relationship with the Holy One of Blessing has deepened.

This, in essence, is what teshuvah is about, turning the excess materials of our hearts and souls – those feelings of sadness, anger, jealousy, and more – into a deeper and closer relationship with G!d – re-turning to G!d – and in the process finding ourselves enriched.

It has been, I believe, through my connection with my father, who passed away almost 40 years ago, that I have learned to grieve. But grief is complex, it is not a one-time endeavor, it is a mosaic, and it returns, often when we least expect it. It shows up in new ways in response to new losses, so that frequently throughout our lives, something new and different needs to be transformed.

Thus it is for all of us, and thus it is in life. And so, our tradition provides the vehicle of the month of Elul leading up to Rosh HaShanah and all the days of the High Holidays, to give us the opportunity to let our compost be transformed, let our grief, fear, and despair be released, and let our hearts open wider, in an ever deepening relationship with the Mystery That Is.

Compost happens. May our transformation also happen.

Rabbi Katy Z. Allen is the founder and leader of Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope in Wayland, MA, and a staff chaplain at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. She is also the co-convener of the Jewish Climate Action Network and the co-creator of Gathering in Grief: The Israel / Gaza Conflict.

In days of Av anticpatin’

I have done my exploration

searching, seeking digging deeper

all to clear the space as greeter.

From the bottom of my looking

I can sense great times are coming

soon our King will sure arrive

and in fields we both will thrive.

Therefore now and always ever

will this earth be seen as heaven

by all those who now know its glitter

shimmering sparks both there and hither.

May we join in joyful meeting

in all lands we’ve tilled this season.

Welcome King, we greet your visit

together harvest is on our list.

Earth Your place which is our home

hosts us as now our thanks we show.

With gratitude to our King,

on whom we are joyfully dependent,

and to the planet He offers with us

which we call our home.

Copyright 2014 Judith Felsen, Ph.D.

Judith Felsen holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, certificates in hypnotherapy, NLP, Eriksonian Hypnosis, and Sacred Plant Medicine. She is a dancer of sacred circle dance, an AMC kitchen crew , taril information volunteer, trail adopter, and daily student of Torah and Judaism. She is enrolled in Rabbinical Seminary International. She has studied Buddhism, A Course in Miracles, and other mystical traditions. She is a hiker, walker, runner, and lives in the White Mountains with her husband and two large dogs. Her life centers around her Jewish studies and daily application.

The meteorologists predicted a possible heavy rainstorm and suggested bringing an umbrella to work.  But as I drove home from an interfaith conference, I got a call from my husband announcing: “ You’ll have to swim home – everything is flooded here.” My heart stopped beating for a minute when I heard this, realizing that all my rabbinic books and papers, many photograph albums including those from my parents’ lives in pre-Holocaust Europe, all our children’s albums and  memorabilia, my father’s award-winning black and white mounted photos, and beautiful maple wood furniture which pre-dated me – all that was DOWN THERE!

But for now, I had to focus on getting home somehow – and indeed, the roadblocks on the main streets and highways were everywhere, with 12 feet of water at a nearby highway underpass near our home. Parking the car at a school several blocks away, I trudged through knee-deep water, only to find my husband standing waist-deep  in the middle of the lake created on our street, valiantly trying to hold back the debris so the storm sewers could drain in front of our house.  All the basements in our small suburb and several other surrounding ones had flooded with 3-5 feet of contaminated water. The irony of it all only hit me two days later when the curbsides where piled high with water-logged garbage – our community was nationally  known for being a leader in recycling ! – yet now was contributing to a huge increase of  landfill acreage with all these destroyed belongings.

Like Noah, I looked for signs of a renewal of life and dry land. This morning I found my “white dove” in the shape of the humongous white hydrangea trees and bushes and the fragrant white lily hostas blooming expansively in front of my house. Our garden did remind me that life  goes on and there is beauty and hope to be found around us, in just letting things go naturally.

As we enter the month of Elul, reflecting on what this all means and where we can improve our lives – and also entering the year of Shmita, of releasing the land to rest – I find several clear messages coming through:

First: Live simply and examine  what you are “attached” to.

Second: We have had an Oral Tradition accompanying our Written Law – perhaps it is time for us to focus on this in a new way, relying on our memories to tell the stories, archiving what is really important on computer memory sticks, and relying on the vast internet libraries instead of creating our own paper jungles at home.

Third: Thank and show appreciation for our neighbors, friends, and families for whatever ways they support us; be on the lookout constantly for  ways to help others, quietly and in advance of a request.

Fourth: While we never can fully understand the ways of God, we  know that if we truly rely on God’s help and direction, it will come; let us be patient and trusting as our ancestors were when they could not plant for an entire year. We will survive – and even prosper!

I resonated deeply with a spiritual writing that described the personal journey of a young man who made meaningful contributions to help alleviate suffering, first locally and then he volunteered in Peru with a health organization performing basic life-saving measures for the most needy. He realized that he could not SAVE them all, that whatever he does is a small amount given the needs and intensity of the impoverishment and sickness of those in dire circumstances. And his conclusion is similar to mine—that one cannot effect major changes, but we can become more aware that individuals in pain and need require compassionate responses. He called it a “ministry of silence”—being there, being present. I was motivated anew and started to participate in healing services for homeless people in my community in order to be a witness to their lives, to their small steps to heal, to be present as they were receiving some comfort and momentary relief during the service in which I participated. One homeless woman said to me — “it mattered to me that you were here” — that comment committed me to be there regularly.

My involvement with a Jewish inmate (writing him for 9 years of his incarceration) meant helping him in a variety of ways in his re-entry into society after years of extreme deprivation of basic human decency, civility and concern, and consequently, he lacked the life skills that would enable him in succeeding. Being his “big sister” and listening to him and his travails and providing some financial assistance gave him an opportunity to acclimate somewhat to life on the outside (“I am physically out of prison but my mind is still shackled from the abuses”). There are few Schweitzers and Paul Farmers capable of performing their amazingly impactful service to humanity but there are endless opportunities to alleviate the hopelessness and abject suffering of individuals in our midst. We can offer a smile, and heartfelt caring that expresses joy when good things happen to them and offering advice and empathy when the challenges cannot be faced alone– communicating that “I am here now with you on your journey as you face and cope with life’s extreme difficulties.”

Participating in a weekly Buddhist meditation group adds to my sense of teshuvah, as it prepares me to practice deep listening, offering new ways to respond with compassion and kindness and caring by being mindfully present. My deep seated Jewish values and traditions inform how I address the pressing societal ills and illusive peace as I learn again and again to be present a little more each year.

Maxine Lyons, retired community educator, is currently CMM (Cooperative Metropolitan Ministries) board member and co-chair of CMM’s RUAH Spirituality Programs, active participant in the ALEPH prison pen pal program (“connecting Jews on the outside with Jews on the inside”), member of Temple Beth Zion, Brookline, and joyful wife of 37 years and mother of two accomplished and wonderful thirty somethings.

The world seems a little topsy turvy these days. A plane missing. 223 girls kidnapped in Nigeria. 3 teen agers kidnapped and murdered in Israel. A plane shot out of the sky. Israel in Gaza. Rockets in Israel. Too many children killed in the streets of Chicago. Too many deaths. When does it stop?

In the Fox River Valley, Illinois, after a punishing winter of epic proportions, it is nice to be outside. Six congregations, part of the nascent Prairie Jewish Coalition, sponsored the Topsy Turvy bus.

What is a topsy turvy bus? It is a school bus, bright yellow, with half of another school bus on top, welded together and running entirely on used food oil. It is a project of Hazon to draw attention to climate change.

Draw attention it does. You have never seen anything like it. Part school bus, part RV, part camper, five  people (and two support staff) are driving this bus from Colorado to Isabella Friedman Retreat Center in Connecticut.  Inside the bus there are sleeping quarters, a kitchen, storage space and even a library!

Ben Cohen of Ben & Jerry’s commissioned the bus. The first tour raised awareness of wasteful spending at the Pentagon. Maybe this Topsy Turvy bus can bring peace! The second tour promoted the White House Organic Farm project. So it makes sense that on a sunny, Sunday afternoon, my congregation, Kneseth Israel, and Pushing the Envelope Farm have come together to host this event.

The residents, drivers, educators engaged all ages who turned out. There were yummy blueberry smoothies made by a bicycle blender. Even better vegan chocolate chip cookies made with three different models of solar cookers. This led to an interesting debate about whether you could use a solar cooker to cook a chicken for Shabbat.

The solar cooking and the bicycle smoothies remind me that I want to install a solar ner tamid, eternal light at our synagogue.  The brainchild of Rabbi Everett Gendler, one of the first Jewish environmentalists, Temple Emanuel of the Merrimack Valley installed the first one in 1978. It raises awareness about the power of the sun and the need to protect our environment, to be caretakers with G-d, in this glorious creation..

People could tour Pushing the Envelope Farm, owned by Rabbi Fred Margulies and his wife Trisha who built the farm from spare acreage on their Continental Envelope Company land in Geneva, IL. They are using it primarily as a teaching farm, with programs for schools, synagogues, churches and scout troops. With 14 acres, there is an organic CSA, various crops and farm animals.  A portion of everything they grow goes to the nearby Northern Illinois Food Bank.

The kids who came loved playing with the chickens and the goats. They loved making their own smoothies and solar cooked cookies. I loved seeing the signs in English, Hebrew, Spanish. And while the bees are critically important, to sustainability and our celebrations of Rosh Hashanah, I gave them a wide berth as I hiked by.

But maybe what I loved most is how this Topsy Turvey bus got all of us—from six congregations and from two years old to eighty, outside on a beautiful, summer day. It would seem that the world is not so Topsy Turvey. Maybe there can even be peace.

Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein is the rabbi of Congregation Kneseth Israel in Elgin, IL, and the author of A Climbing Journey Toward Yom Kippur. She blogs as the Energizer Rabbi, at http://www.theenergizerrabbi.org.

A memory: Our newborn is up again. I turn to the clock. It’s 4:25 am. Less than three hours since she last awoke. My husband and I are exhausted, and we lie quietly for a few moments, willing our daughter back to sleep. But her cries are persistent. Who knows if she’s hungry, cold, or simply distressed and looking for comfort?

Regardless, we’ve reached our “give-her-a-moment” limit; there’s only so long one can ignore an infant baby’s cries. My husband grabs for his glasses, makes his way to the

nursery, and returns with our loosely swaddled howling bundle. He lays her beside me and her whimpers subside. She begins to nurse. We are calmed. At that moment, there is no more peaceful sound than the blissful rhythm of our baby sucking.

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The calf is born. Cold and disoriented, its mother nestles close to provide warmth; she guides her baby’s mouth toward her udders. The calf suckles and then falls asleep by its mother.

The mother and child remain this way, comforted, nurtured by each other’s presence. The calf awakes and drinks more of the colostrum, or early milk, from its mother. This liquid gold is rich in antibodies, essential for the health and growth of the baby calf, but not fit for human consumption. Within 24 hours, the calf has done its job, drunk all the colostrum. The cow’s milk fills her udders. This milk, unlike the colostrum, is valuable and will be collected for humans.

It is time; a farmhand waits until mother and baby are sleeping side-by-side, lifts the baby to its feet and nudges it away. The unnecessary cost has been removed; this calf, like all the others on this farm, is separated permanently from her mother. This calf will never again drink its mother’s milk.

Neighbors awake. They hear strange noises: indescribably, inhuman, and unrecognizable. The sounds are clearly coming from creatures in distress. Between midnight and 7:00 am, at least four neighbors alert the police. Officers are dispatched to the dairy farm to investigate the source of the eerie, troubling sound. Assurances are given that all is well.

This is just business as usual. The calf must not drink the profits. The cow and calf’s time together has ended. But maternal-child bonds are not easily broken. The separation causes extreme anxiety and suffering. The bellows emanate from the mother cow lamenting the separation from her baby. Gates will be check to ensure she is securely penned. It is not uncommon for a mother cow to trek for miles in search of her calf. Sadly, this pregnancy, birth, separation, commercial milk production cycle which is forced upon the cows continues. Lactation will not occur otherwise.

Dairy products are suffused with the suffering of a mother and a child separated and unable to soothe one another. I hear their cries and cannot ignore them.

Diana G. is a plant based nutrition/cooking teacher with a BA in nutritional sciences from Cornell, and an MA in Education from Harvard. She is a mother of three and an animal rights advocate. Her article was inspired by this article and this book.

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

I stand on the beach.
Waves–
     I hear them,
see them,
rising, falling,
splashing, foaming.

Deep within me 
  waves form,
  rise up,
are released,
unite with the ocean waves.

Throughout my body
  sadness….
grief….
despair….
engulf me.

The Earth is suffering.

I cannot simply stand,
sit,
lie,
relax.
Act, I must,
driven by my grief, 
by my love,
by the waves,
in order to live with myself,
with the Holy One of Blessing–
who is able to quiet waves,
in the sea,
in my soul–
who continues to command me,
always.

.אני עומדת על חוף הים

Rabbi Katy Z. Allen is the founder and leader of Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope in Wayland, MA, and a staff chaplain at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. She is also the co-convener of the Jewish Climate Action Network and the co-creator of Gathering in Grief: The Israel / Gaza Conflict.