“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

Young Urban Moshav is thrilled to have the opportunity to create a demonstration garden at the JCC of the East Bay. The garden is intended to serve the after school program’s garden curriculum and to function as a Jewish outdoor learning center for the community. The project site design will integrate best urban garden practices with Jewish cultural items such as traditional holiday foods and the fruits of Israel. The space will accommodate groups of learners and holiday activities. Young Urban Moshav’s participatory approach includes support with community engagement, from communications content and crowdsourcing to strategic connections with other Jewish green initiatives.

Artisan Katherine Gulley of Raised Bedlam Woodworks (left), Green Educator Ezra Ranz (center), JCC East Bay Berkeley After School Director Cassie Brown (right) enjoy the new beautiful redwood garden furniture that arrived in November.

Young Urban Moshav, a new Jewish food start-up, has been accepted into the Hazon CSA network and aims to develop a residentially-based Community Supported Agriculture program. The JCC East Bay garden will be an example of garden design and implementation that Young Urban Moshav is offering for other institutions and private residences as it embarks on its goal to grow a system of interconnected urban agriculture sites across the East Bay.

In developing this exciting demonstration garden, Young Urban Moshav is sourcing labor and products from within the community whenever possible. As of the end of November 2014, exciting progress has been made. The garden has received its first major contribution from Katherine Gulley at Raised Bedlam Woodworks in Berkeley. A beautiful redwood table and bench, including end planters and a garden box, are already on site! Katherine makes custom outdoor and reclaimed furniture. She herself grew up in Berkeley attending the JCC and proudly claims that she was at her after school program at the JCC when the big earthquake of ‘89 hit.

Chuck Weis (left), Jory Gessow of Gessow Landscaping (center), and Garden Educator Ezra Ranz (right) scope out the site for grading upgrades.

The garden site, an alley between the southwest corner of the JCC building and the adjacent commercial CVS building, is being graded during the month of December so that the main area in use will be flat. Approval has been obtained for a retaining wall and ramp, to be constructed by community member Jory Gessow of Gessow Landscaping. You might recognize Jory from the annual Tikkun Leyl Shavuot events as he is an avid participant of many years!

JCC After School Director Cassie Brown has been overseeing the project. Green Educator Ezra Ranz has been coordinating between the JCC and Young Urban Moshav on a volunteer basis while already growing some starts with students in small boxes on location (pictured in the featured image of this article). Facilities Supervisor Chuck Weis is managing construction details regarding the building site. Front Desk Supervisor Selena Martinez has been filling an insightful and exemplary advisory role. The garden design has been developed by Young Urban Moshav volunteer Talya Ilovitz, who now is updating the drawings to include the newest developments.

Next major steps include construction of raised garden beds and installation of drip irrigation as well as a spiral herb garden and worm bin. Material contributions are being graciously accepted, from lumber to soil, garden equipment and planters to irrigation supplies, seeds, plants and even worms! Please contact youngurbanmoshav@gmail.com if you would like to contribute to this exciting Jewish community garden.

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.

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.

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.

I started with Jewcology while working with an organization called Faiths United for Sustainable Energy, which unfortunately had to close its doors a few years back.  Though that organization I was able to meet a wide range of people affiliated with various religious organizations who cared deeply for the environment.  Through FUSE, individuals from different religious backgrounds were able to come together and collaborate in an effort to be good stewards of the planet.  I think the same applies to Judaism as, which is a very large tent containing a wide range of viewpoints.  If we as Jews can come together in order to share and exchange ideas, thoughts, and experiences in connection with  environmental  advocacy, activities, events, and Jewish teaching, we can create an even stronger Jewish environmental movement, in hopes of passing down a more sustainable world to the next generation, like my new son.

Please feel free to comment on this post or send me emails directly and I am always happy to discuss.  After all, that is the entire purpose of Jewcology.

I wish everyone a happy and sweet New Year.

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.

­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐-­‐

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.

Ever since the first breath of creation, time has unfolded in cycles of seven. Six days reach their crescendo in the seventh day, Shabbat – the Sabbath, the day of rest. Six years reach their crescendo in the seventh year, Shemittah – the sabbatical, the year of renewal. Seven cycles of seven years reach their crescendo in the Jubilee year, the ultimate enactment of re-creation.

All three call forth nostalgic images of Eden, when humanity lived in abundance, peace, equity and ease.  All offer a way of partial return. But there are differences among them: Jubilee is more fantasy than experience, more vision than practice. And while it remains part of our sacred narrative, it has nonetheless fallen out of our sacred calendar.

Shabbat, on the other hand, is a constant presence. It is celebrated weekly, as time apart, 25-hours of a lived dream dimension. We enter Shabbat by leaving the work-a-day world and cross into a domain that is edenic, “a taste of the world to come.”  We are at leisure, eat well, avoid strife and pretend to create one world, diminishing the boundaries that daily divide us.

Shemittah sits between these two. Neither a fantasy nor a constant presence, it is both a vision of a new reality and a practice to be lived in here-and-now. It happens in the same time and space as all other years, only we are to live this year differently, more equitably, more fully, more intentionally than the six years before. It is a year of harmony and celebration with the earth, when the land of Israel rests from the agricultural labors imposed upon her yet when she yields sufficient goodness for us all to thrive. It is a year of commonplace manna, when food is ours for the taking, but modestly, temperately, with a deep sense of gratitude and awareness; when debts are forgiven and there is equity for all; when property boundaries are suspended and all becomes once again part of the Commons. It is, in short, a year of rebooting, recalibration and realigning our assumptions about property, land use, economic justice and social equity. Not as a dream but as a reality.

Rosh Hashanah 2014 marks the next shemittah year (the Hebrew year 5775).  Jews around the world are seeking ways to enter into the laws and spirit of this sabbatical year as they have never done before. They are extending its message beyond the boundaries of Israel to wherever they live; and extending the thrust of its ethic beyond the agricultural sector. To mark this moment, to help us begin this historic revisioning, renewal and re-imagining of the ways to live a year of shemittah, we offer this Rosh Hashanah seder. It is modeled on the Jewish tradition of new year’s simanim, symbolic food, like the traditional apples dipped in honey, that represent the blessings we hope will be ours.

The seder consists of six small cups or bowls arrayed on a decorative base plate.

This base plate represents the whole, the sweep of time, the sphere that encompasses and defines every 7-year cycle. For shemittah is not just one segregated year, as Shabbat is not one segregated day. It is the year that frames and gives shape to all the other years, both those just past, and those yet to come. Upon this foundation plate rest the six cups or bowls. Together they represent the six attributes that define the essence of the shemittah year, and a life lived in goodness, sacred striving and delight.

Slices of apples (and other perennial delicacies of your choice) are arrayed in the center of the base plate. These recall the fruits of Eden that sustained us, and the Tree of Knowledge that launched us on the irresistible human enterprise of curiosity, desire, exploration and pursuits. And it represents the perennial foods (fruits, nuts and berries) that grow on their own during the shemittah year and that we gratefully eat at a time when we do not plow, sow, reap or commercially harvest the produce of the field.

On this base plate set the following:

Cup One: Honey representing Sova – Enoughness. Sova is the feeling of fullness without being stuffed; of contentment through what was given and not wanting anything more; of maximum satisfaction with minimum consumption and disruption. This first cup is filled with honey. Pass around the cup for all to dip the apples in the honey, say:

“In this year of shemittah, may we know no hunger, either spiritual or physical. May we be as readily sated with the delights of life as this cup is filled by these drops of honey.”

Cup Two: Wine (consider fruit wine, including Passion Fruit Wine from Israel or homemade date wine)* signifying Hodayah – Gratefulness. Hodayah is the feeling of gratitude, of deep satisfaction and elusive peace with what we have received. Wine is the age-old symbol of celebration, an expression of shared gratitude. It takes years for the vineyard to grow and produce grapes and time enough for the wine to ferment. On the human side, this requires steadfastness, peace, stability, and longevity; on nature’s side cool and heat and sun and rain and rich soil all in the right amounts – surely things to be grateful for. This cup is filled to the rim with the wine. (Wine cups at everyone’s place may be filled with this too.) Hold it up and say:

“In this shemittah year, may we know peace and be strangers to disappointment and disruption. May the earth find renewal amid its rest. And may gratitude fill us all as the wine fills this cup.”

Cup Three: Figs representing Revaya – Abundance. Revaya is the awareness of the vast resources of a healthy world, the earth’s ancient capacity of growth and self-renewal, and our call to keep it going. Figs are not like most other fruit crops. The fruits on one tree do not ripen all at once but one by one, each in its own time. They offer abundance without surfeit. This cup is filled with figs (either whole or cut, fresh if available though dried figs are fine too), speckled and spangled with seeds. Pass around the cup for all to take from it and say:

“In this year of shemittah, may we recognize abundance and know no waste. May we celebrate the vast goodness that lies within even the most modest cache of life; may we reverently receive life’s abundance and, like the continuous fruiting of the fig tree, give what we can, at the time that is right.”

Cup Four: Raisins representing Hesed – Goodness, Kindness, Generosity. Hesed is a response to our gratitude for the varieties of gifts we have received in this world. Having received we are moved to give. Such is the nature of the gift. The raisins heaped in this cup signify the sweet, satisfying substance that can be given even after other extractions of goodness have been taken. They recall the leaves, the juices, the wine, the vinegar, the shade, the wood and delight that are all gifts of the grape. In response to all that we have been given, we are moved to give more. Pass around the cup for all to take from and say:

“In this shemittah year, may we know no greed. May we recognize the gifts we have received and in return realize the manifold ways of giving that lie within each of us.”

Cup Five: Pomegranate representing Poriyut -  Fertility. Poriyut is the creativity, the dynamism, the fecundity that characterizes the majesty of nature. It is what allows us to eat during this year of fallowness and renewal. It is the dormancy that bursts forth, in the right conditions, inspiring the human gifts of imagination, discovery and awe. This cup is filled with pomegranate seeds, symbols of overflowing fertility. Pass the cup around for everyone to taste and say:

“In this shemittah year, may we know no barrenness, no emptiness. May this year of material enoughness bring forth overflowing acts of discovery, delight and spiritual bounty.”

Cup Six: Dates representing Otzar – The Commons. Otzar is earth’s shared resources, owned by none and gifted to all. It is the storehouse of the ages, the fundamentals of life that we all depend upon. It is the stuff of earth and society, natural and cultural, that we share now in our lifetimes and leave behind for others. Our stories, our knowledge, our goods, our homes, our earth. This cup holds stuffed dates, signifying all that we share in the giving to and taking from the Commons. (Another option: put a few symbolic dates in the center cup but in addition, array dates – pitted and sliced – on the outer edge of a serving plate, surrounding a center mound of stuffing: chopped almonds, walnuts, pistachios or pine nuts that have been soaked in honey and wine. Let everyone fill a date with the sweet filling and give it to someone else at the table.) Everyone takes a date and says:

“In this shemittah year, may we know no isolation, no loneliness, no selfishness. May we recognize that we are joined in partnership to the earth, and to one another through our common heritage, the Torah, our past and our future that bind us to one another forever, throughout the cycles of space and time.”

Then wash it all down with a drink of l’chaim.

Note: This multi-layered seder is a tradition that can be adapted to mark every year of the shemittah cycle. On Rosh Hashanah of the shemittah year (the seventh culminating year), all the cups are filled, celebrating the completion of one shemittah cycle. The following year, the first year, only the first cup with the  honey – and the apples – appear on the plate. The second year, the first two cups; the third year, the first three, and so on til the completion of the cycle and the celebration of the next shemittah year.

Biblical shemittah texts:

Exodus 23:10-11

Leviticus 25:1-7

Leviticus 25:20-22

Deuteronomy 15:1-6

* Only wine that includes grapes qualifies for the Kiddush blessing: borei pri hagafen, who creates the fruit of the vine. “Shehakol nihiyah bed’varo” is said over

fruit wines without a grape base. If the blessing over wine (Kiddush) and bread (Hamotzi) have already been said at the beginning of the meal, no additional blessings need to be recited over the foods of the seder plate.
This seder is meant to be a template to be used and adapted as celebrants desire. Please do share any adaptations, improvements, suggestions, etc with me. Nina Beth Cardin, ncardin@comcast.net.

Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin is the co-founder of the Sova Project and the founder and director of the Baltimore Jewish Environmental Network, an organization dedicated to greening her local Jewish community; the founder and director of the Baltimore Orchard Project, an organization that grows, gleans and gives away urban fruit; and a co-founder and chair of the Interfaith Partners for the Chesapeake, an interfaith organization that works on behalf of the health of the Chesapeake Bay watershed and all its inhabitants.

by Rabbi Howard Cohen

The end of the human race will be that it will eventually die of civilisation. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson

With the approach of the season of Teshuvah it is once again time to reflect on our relationship with the earth.  In the past I would have asked myself questions such as ‘did I waste natural resources’; or ‘did I pour unreasonable amounts of carbon into the atmospher’; or ‘did I speak out against corporate environmental abuse’.  These questions are important but I believe that there is another set of questions equally or more important that we should start asking ourselves.  This year I am asking ‘how prepared am I to live in an ecologically changed/damaged world’ and ‘how am I helping others cope with the environmental changes we fear that are now a part of our reality’.

Humans have already irreversibly and negatively impacted the ecology and environment of the earth.  Perhaps we can mitigate to some degree future damage, but we cannot undo what has been done.  Thus, the most important existential challenge today is how to live in our environmentally affected world.

Sadly, the environmental movement has failed.  This is not because Truth and science are not on its side, nor because it lacked resources or organization.  It failed because it was essentially a messianic movement. Like all messianic movements it focused on final outcomes: If we don’t change our ways terrible things await us (think Jonah and his commission from God to the Ninevites).  But if we change (teshuvah) our ways we can avoid this horrible fate and enjoy heaven on earth.  Alternatively it was messianic because it was built upon the belief that in the end if we do right we can return (teshuvah) the earth and all therein to a time when it was much more like the days of the Garden of Eden.  (Think Shabbat as a taste of the Olam HaBa, that is, in the Garden of Eden). The environmental movement failed because messianic movements always fail.

This is a dark message if we are afraid of the unknown.  This is a depressing message if we do not prepare for the changes scientist are quite confident will almost certainly come.  That is why this year when I reflect on my earth/nature relationship instead of asking what can I do better next year to stop the inevitable changes from happening, I am going to ask how can I live with and help others live with the changes already under way.  Learning to live within a changed environment can be empowering, inspire hope and stimulate creativity.  It is not, nor does it need to be depressing.

Rabbi Howard Cohen runs Judaism Outdoors: Burning Bush Adventures, through which he takes people into the wilderness for an unforgettable experience of God, Judaism, and wilderness,

This time of year always seems a hurricane of activity: coming back from vacation to reams of email, or starting school, or dealing with all the pent-up housework that went blissfully ignored during the easy summer months.

Traditionally, Jews see this time of year very differently. Like typical Americans, this period is for them both an ending and a beginning: a recognition of the waning of life and an invigorating harbinger of new possibilities. But in place of the chaotic hurricane that starts for us after Labor Day, many Jews launch a period of quiet, internal reconstruction four days earlier on the first day of Elul.

Leaving mental space and physical time for self-reflection—and doing it now, precisely because this is such a busy time of year—represents an excellent discipline that can preserve mental and physical health throughout the year.

The change of seasons also teaches about of the amazing balance in the Earth that gives us food, clean air, and all good things. We don’t need to lament the end of warm weather and the reminder that in a few months we will be buried in snow. Snow is one of the great blessings of God–not just because we enjoy winter sports, but because it forms the perfect storage medium that, when the climate works right, preserves the water coming from Heaven that is needed months later for the plants that sprang up on the third day of Creation.

We don’t have to approach Elul through the traditional obsession with the S-word (sin). We can look back at what we wanted to accomplish during the year, and measure how far we have come. We can recall what unanticipated challenges and woes came up, congratulate ourselves for making it through them, and give a thumb’s up to the greater force that might have helped. We can ask why it is (if so) we do more Jewish stuff during High Holidays than the rest of year, and consider incrementing our Jewish practice and thinking year-round. And most of all, we should take a vow to devote part of the year to the preservation of the Earth, so that our descendants can enjoy High Holidays three thousand years from now.

Andrew Oram is an editor and writer at the technology company O’Reilly Media, a member of Temple Shir Tikvah of Winchester, Massachusetts, and an activist in the Jewish Climate Action Network and other local
(This is adapted from an article originally published in the newsletter of Temple Shir Tivkvah, Winchester, Mass.)

Using the site is pretty simple.

Click on login  — but your password from the old site won’t work, so the first time you use the new site, click on “lost password” to set a new password:

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The Beet-Eating Heeb is here to save the day! Or at least to fill a void.

Blogs devoted to vegan and vegetarian Judaism have all but vanished.

Consider:

Heeb ‘n’ Vegan, once a thriving place in cyberspace, hung an “out-of-business” on its door in 2010.

Shalom Veg, another favorite of meat-abstaining Jews, has gone months without posting new content.

The last thing the world needs is another blog. Except in this case.

As interest in all things vegan and vegetarian continues to grow, the Beet-Eating Heeb (BEH for short) has plenty of information to share, issues to discuss, and people to interview.

BEH has ambitious plans for this site. In fact, he originally named this blog “The Ambitious Beet-Eating Heeb.” But Wife of BEH astutely noted that “Beet-Eating Heeb” is hard enough to say.

So what is so ambitious about this blog? Here is some of what you can expect to find here in the weeks and months ahead:

• A serious examination of what the Torah has to say about food. The laws of kashrut matter, but there is much more.

• A curating and analysis of news about relevant food issues. The Beet-Eating Heeb spent 18 years in journalism, so he knows how to spot a good story, presumably.

• Interviews with rabbis, food experts, activists, vegans, vegetarians, flexitarians, pescatarians and carnivores. But BEH draws the line at freegans. (Google it. You’ll understand.)

• A dose of humor. While the consequences of industrial food production are rather sobering, The Beet-Eating Heeb still enjoys a chuckle as much as the next beet-eating guy.

• BEH is a busy guy, what with a day job, a family, and even a grad-school class. But there is so much to talk about, so much to digest (pun intended), and so much at stake, he is committed to posting on the Jewcology site at least once a month.

He hopes to see you often.