By Rabbi Arthur Waskow

This past Shabbat, in the same mail–delivery to my door,  there arrived both a copy of Rabbi David Seidenberg’s magnum opus Kabbalah & Ecology (published by Cambridge University Press), and the in-print Fall 2015 issue of Tikkun magazine, including an article of mine  on “Prayer as if the Earth Really Matters. ”  

My article encodes into liturgy an explicitly unconventional eco-Jewish theology. It joins a series of articles in that issue of Tikkun that are a kind of anthology of eco-theologies in various traditions: Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, Christianity, and several strands of spiritually open secular thought. 

Rabbi Seidenberg’s book  and my article (a distillation of much of my own eco-theology) present two new theologies, both rooted in Torah, looking at different aspects of Torah yet both reframing the relation of God to Earth and human earthlings.

David’s work, as his title announces, draws chiefly on Kabbalah and addresses its way of understanding tzelem elohim, the Image of God. He brilliantly shows that many Kabbalists extended the sense of the Image not only to the human species but to the universe as a whole and therefore all the beings within it. And he wonderfully explores the implications of this finding — intellectual, spiritual, scientific.

 My work is much more rooted in Tanakh, the Hebrew Bible — as the spiritual explorations of an indigenous people of shepherds & farmers

who are close to the land. To understand God at the heart of this, I hear— literally hear —  YHWH as YyyyHhhhWwwwHhhh – the Breathing/ Interbreathing Spirit of the world –  ruach ha’olam – and I hear the shmei rabbah / Great Name of the Kaddish as a Rabbinic continuation of this outlook — weaving together all the names of all beings, including galaxies and quarks, rabbis and rabbits.

So it felt utterly fitting that on the day that they arrived in my mailbox was not only Shabbat but also the 8th day of Passover, Its fervently messianic Prophetic reading – “The wolf shall lie down with the lamb; in all my holy mountain nothing vile or evil shall be done; the intimate knowing of the Breath of Life shall fill the Earth as the waters cover the sea””) gives it the name of “the Passover of the Future.”.

My outlook begins with the spiritual findings, parables, and teachings rooted in one people’s experience of one sliver of a multi-ecosystem land on the eastern edge of the Mediterranean,  and I midrashically extrapolate from there/then to the planet as a whole in an era when what we extract and consume from the Earth is no longer only edible food but also burnable fossil fuels.

 Whereas the Image of God that draws David comes from the first Creation story, I focus on a crucial thread of Torah starting from the second Creation story –– adam birthed from adamah, and YHWH breathing life into the newborn human species as a midwife breathes life into the newborn human individual. (“Earthling” and “Earth” are the closest we can get in English to the richness of “adam and adamah” in Hebrew.)

 From there I see a crucial thread of concern for Earth-earthling relationship that runs through Tanakh — beginning with a parable of the disaster of failed adam/ adamah relationship in Eden, and then yearning toward a series of  sacred efforts to repair the disaster: the parable of bountiful Manna that comes with restful Shabbat; the attempt to make shared bounty practical through the Sabbatical/ Shmita Year and its hope of  the Jubilee/ Homebringing Year; and ultimately the vision of the Song of Songs  –  Eden once again, this time for a grown-up race of human earthlings and our well-beloved Earth.

I am delighted that both these new Jewish theologies are emerging in response to the planetary crisis we are in. Indeed, they both point to the ways in which the world we actually live in, and the policies and practices we develop to address it, call us to re-imagine God –-  that is, to create new theologies.

I had time on this past  Shabbos/ Yontif & Maimouna to begin perusing David’s book– which I had not been able to do in any thorough way via electrons. (My eye-brain connections still live in the 20^th century.)

I’m very impressed indeed.   Extraordinary breadth of scholarship, both in Jewish texts and in ancillary readings on e.g. evolution and other related fields. And a strong thread of Akiba’s “Study is greater ––  if it leads to action.”

I was especially tickled to see David’s comments on the Great Chain of Being. (The “Great Chain of Being” is a theory of the world as a hierarchy from “inanimate objects” like rocks up to the Divine King and Lord.)

In my Tikkun article I explicitly took on the GCB thus –

It is both factually and theologically notable that this liturgical song [“We Have the Whole World in Our Hands”] transforms an older hymn in which the refrain was, “He has the whole world in His hands.”

That assertion — He is in charge of the world —  is closely related to a major traditional metaphor in most Jewish, Christian, and Muslim prayer. In that metaphor,  God is King, Lord, Judge —  above and beyond the human beings who are praying.  In regard to the Earth, this metaphor crowned a series of hierarchies:

The “Great Chain of Being” is a theory of the world as a hierarchy from rocks and rivers up to vegetation, thence up to animals and then to human beings and finally up to the Divine King and Lord. 

Today we know that the relationship between the human species and the Earth is ill described by these metaphors of hierarchy.  Not only do we know that what we breathe in depends upon what the trees and grasses breathe out; now we know that within our own guts are myriads of microscopic creatures that occasionally make us sick but far more often keep us alive and healthy.

…  So  those metaphors of ordered hierarchy are no longer truthful, viable, or useful to us as tools of spiritual enlightenment.

If we are to seek spiritual depth and height, the whole framework of prayer must be transformed.

I hope that many of us will read both David’s book and the whole issue of Tikkun. My own essay is also at  –

 <https://theshalomcenter.org/content/prayer-if-earth-really-matters>. And the Introduction to David’s book is posted at <neohasid.org/KAE>, together with instructions on how to order it.

 From our different perspectives, David and I are both especially interested in efforts to synthesize ancient wisdom with post-modern science. 

 For him, the question is how Kabbalah and modern Science (especially an ecological-scientific frame of mind) may track each other.

 From my different focus on the Tanakh, I am interested in –

• connecting the warnings of Lev 26 with modern ecological predictions;
• connecting YHWH as  Interbreath of Life with the Oxygen/CO2 interchange so that the “climate crisis” – resulting from a catastrophic overdose of CO2 –  can be seen as a crisis in “YHWH” Itself – a crisis in God’s Name;
• seeing paragraph 2 of the Sh’ma as a  proto-scientific statement about the relationship between idolatry (“carving out” only a part of the Breath/Flow/ Great Name to worship as ultimate) and eco-catastrophes;
• seeing Pharaoh, enslavement,  and the Plagues as a teaching affirmed by modern political/ economic science that top-down arrogant power oppresses both human beings and the Earth, requiring struggle for eco-social  justice. (So for me, eco-theology flows smoothly into political activism.)

In short, I bring “social science” and “political science” and biological/ climatological/ ecological science into relationship with the early “science” of shepherds and farmers observing their own relationship with the Earth, making systemic theory from their observations  — and treating that relationship itself as sacred and our understanding of that relationship as Torah.

I take great joy in the simultaneous emergence of two eco-theologies – one that begins with the Image of God in the first Creation story, and another that begins with the Earth/ earthling relationship in the second Creation story. (David’s work does not ignore the second story, but his focus on the Image and on Kabbalah draw him in a different direction.)

May we be able to weave the two stories together as does our earliest Torah!

Last chance to help us make Israel a greener, environmentally healthier land: Until the end of April you can vote online for the upcoming World Zionist Congress. The results determine, among other things, the division of power at the Jewish National Fund’s international board.

For the past decade I have sat on the JNF board, largely because of the support and intervention of the Green Zionist Alliance – a wonderful group of young environmentalists who decided to get involved and improve Israel’s environmental performance. This support has allowed me to represent them and pursue any number of important green initiatives which include:

· creating new sustainable forestry policies for the JNF,

· putting bike lanes on the organization’s agenda,

· creating a brand new “affirmative action” program to systematically reach out to Israel’s Arab minorities to finance environmental projects,

· increasing the organizational commitment to green building and solar energy,

· leading the fight to prevent JNF funding over the green line,

· expanding funding for forestry and agricultural research as well as river restoration projects, and

· fighting for good government and transparency.

There is a lot more that needs to be done. Whether or not I can continue depends on whether the “GZA” – or Aytzim as they call themselves these days gets enough votes. It only takes ten dollars to register and 3 minutes online to vote. (The polls close this Thursday April 30th). Here’s a link to Vote Green Israel: www.worldzionistcongress.org

Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any questions. And thanks to all of you who have already voted green for the support. – Alon Tal

(Considered by many to be the leading environmentalist in Israeli history, Alon Tal is a co-founder of the Green Zionist Alliance)

Download the free “Haggadah of the Inner Seder” (18 pp.). PDF, RTF, and DOC versions, along with a brief guide to the haggadah’s features, can be found at: http://neohasid.org/zman/pesach/InnerSeder/.
You can also go to neohasid.org for Omer Counter apps, and for information about David Seidenberg’s new book, Kabbalah and Ecology: God’s Image in the More-Than-Human World, published by Cambridge University Press.

Still, it surprised me recently how I metaphorically fell apart when the government literally did.

There were reasons why the folding of the current government affected me.  After two years of hard work to promote a meaningful Shmita year and raise ethics at a national level, winning the commitment of three ministers and a deputy minister and partnering with Knesset members of all parties – all of a sudden there was nothing, a vacuum.

But this reality did not break my spirit.  My difficulty was with the political atmosphere but normal life continued in the social justice arena. When I set up the “Israeli Shmita Initiative” I planned this year as one of unity, of connecting people, of joint mobilization to highlight the good that we share. The reality of elections achieves pretty much the opposite of this, and the current election system is particularly harsh.

It took me a while to realize that elections affect us only at a superficial level, leaving intact the many choices each of us makes on an inner level every day. The values of Shmita reside within us, where they retain the potential to influence society for the better. And I had a tool – our Israeli Shmita Tent.

So what is this Israeli Shmita Tent?  It is, as the name suggests, a huge tent with which we travel around the country, offering people a space for relaxation, eating fruit, swapping books (our ‘Take and Keep’ library), and a space for shared discussion about our social dreams. With our Tent we will go anywhere we are invited, and stay a few days, getting to know the place and its people, and discussing the possibilities of positive action arising from the values ​​of Shmita.

The Tent’s journey began early in the year, but the election made us raise our game – really plowing the length and breadth of the country, reminding us how good it all is. Here are some of the stories I’ve collected along the way:

On the pilgrimage “Connections on the Road to Jerusalem”, I pitched my tent next to the Teva employees, who took part in the march as representatives of the business sector: a commercial company which chooses to invest in sending its employees on a two day march calling for unity in Israeli society. Definitely exciting.

At Festival Indie-Negev, which I went to for the local culture (not for corporate sponsorships), I came across an interesting choice made by one of the festival’s producers who made teshuva, but did not cancel the event (which takes place on Shabbat) but placed alongside it a ‘Jewish complex’ where people could pray, hear Kiddush and engage in spiritual activities. It was packed throughout the whole of Shabbat, and I got into deep conversations of inestimable value.

In Yeruham I met a community which chose not to give in to the stigma attaching to many a southern town. Cultural and intellectual life is vibrant, there is huge social entrepreneurship in evidence, and a variety of institutions combine learning and practice: these are the result of just some of the wonderful choices of the local people.  If I had not settled in the Galilee, for sure I would pack my bags and move.

In Jerusalem we pitched our tent at the First Station complex – a commercial complex which is trying to reinvent itself as Jerusalem’s latter-day ‘forum.’  In seven sessions around seven themes we met many residents of the Holy City, and found creative ways to imbue the values of Shmita in their lives.

There were more: the ecological farm in Modi’in which completely recycles all its waste; the Zionist Youth Congress which continues to bring relevant meaning to Zionism today; the Emek Hefer march that brings people closer to nature; and many more.

So whether you are happy with the result of the Israeli elections or not, I hope that all of us remember that the real choices which matter are those we make every day – not just at election time, and that the values inherent in Shmita invite us to choose good!

“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

Originally published in Shma: http://shma.com/2014/12/stop-now-shmita-and-climate-change/

Imagine that you’re a wealthy landowner in ancient Israel. You know the shmita (sabbatical) year is coming and what’s required: You must stop planting and let your land lie fallow for the year. You must forego a year of profit. Not only that: Over the past few years, you have lent money to your poor neighbors and now you must forgive their debts so that your neighbors can also let their lands lie fallow. If they were obligated to pay you back, they would not be able to participate. These laws are good for the fertility of the land and for your neighbor’s livelihood and dignity.  But observing shmita, and putting the community’s needs ahead of your own, requires a sacrifice from you. Would you do it?

Fast forward to today: You live in one of the world’s richest countries and you depend on cheap energy extracted from the earth for your livelihood and your lifestyle. In neighboring countries, though, people are poor. They use little energy and they have little money to invest in new infrastructure. Will you try to use energy more efficiently? Will you invest in renewable energy sources that don’t damage the earth? If you will, further warming of the atmosphere will be prevented. Your neighbors, more vulnerable than you because of their poverty, will be protected from rising seas, heat waves, and drought. But caring for their lives requires a sacrifice from you. Will you do it?

Shmita is the Torah’s prescription for environmental, social, and economic sustainability.  Today, climate change is the biggest threat to sustainability. Although the scale of the problems brought on by climate change were unimaginable in the time of the Torah, shmita addressed certain maladies of human society that have not gone away and that now threaten us with self-destruction. As in ancient times, self-interest, greed, short-term thinking, and unsustainable exploitation of people and the earth endanger our existence. Climate change is not a scientific or technical problem. The science is clear and the solutions are ready; it is an ethical problem. Will we, who have benefited from the burning of fossil fuels, take responsibility for the damage and make it right? There are at least three lessons we can learn from shmita.

First, shmita forces us to acknowledge that human existence depends on our relationship to the earth. In ancient times, almost everyone was a subsistence farmer. Agriculture depleted the fertility of the land and, so, it had to be limited. Today, we are all dependent on energy. And our energy system is unsustainable. The mining and burning of fossil fuels is poisoning fresh water, acidifying the ocean, warming the atmosphere, and disrupting the climate. Putting a complete stop to this destructive system seems impossible, just as it must have seemed impossible to our ancestors to stop planting for the shmita year. Shmita challenges us to look beyond the short-term hardship and imagine the future we can create if we act boldly to right this wrong.

Second, shmita teaches us that caring for the earth and caring for people are inseparable. Letting the land lie fallow cannot happen without also forgiving people their debts; in order for all to participate in shmita, the poor cannot be indebted to the wealthy. Those who have more have to make sure that everyone’s needs are met. Today, it is only fair that we who have benefited the most must take the largest responsibility for addressing the climate crisis. Individually, we can reduce our own energy use, purchase electricity from renewable energy suppliers, stop investing in fossil fuel corporations, and vote for leaders who will push for change. As nations, the United States and other wealthy countries must enact ambitious policies to replace energy from coal, oil, and gas, with solar and wind.

Finally, shmita sets a deadline for action. When the seventh year arrives, it has to be observed. Shmita teaches us that we cannot delay taking action until it is convenient or until we are convinced that there is no other choice. Fulfilling our ethical responsibility  is not optional. Even if it seems imprudent or extreme, every seven years we must rededicate ourselves to building a sustainable society in harmony with the earth.

Do we really need this deadline? We certainly do. The first congressional hearings on climate change were held in 1988. The Kyoto Protocol, the international treaty that the United States refused to ratify due to pressure from self-interested industries, was adopted in 1997. The United States has had more than 25 years to commit to stop burning fossil fuels and accelerate the transition to renewable energy, but it has not made nearly enough progress. Although individual cities and states are taking action, there is still no progress in Congress. Fossil fuel companies that care only for profits continue to confuse the public by claiming that there is no need to move away from fossil fuels and that renewable energy technologies are not ready. They hope to extract all of the fossil fuels they have in their reserves.

Each of us has benefited from the burning of fossil fuels that is harming the atmosphere. Each of us has the power to help prevent the worst projections of climate change. Now is the time to take action. The Torah’s wisdom is timeless. And human beings rise to the occasion when we are saddled with an intractable deadline. That’s why we need shmita.

As we head into winter, the light changes and creates changes inside of us. Dusk descends upon the Earth earlier and dawn arrives later.  An evening walk takes us through luminous pockets of blue, white, red and green. For some, winter light brings a melancholy and longing for bright summer sunlight. For others, the candles and iridescent colored bulbs bring excitement and nostalgia.

It is with this consciousness of light and its effects on the human condition that the Jewish people observe Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights.

During Hanukkah, we commemorate the triumph of the Maccabees over the Greeks in the 2nd century BCE.  When they rededicated the desecrated Temple, the Maccabees found only one cruse of oil left to light the ceremonial lamp.  That cruse of oil was only expected to last for one night; however, it lasted for eight days.

What meanings can we glean from the miracle of the oil? Perhaps it is that no matter how abused or degraded an individual or a group may be, there is the capacity in it for more fire and light than one could ever imagine. Or maybe it is that triumph over oppression illuminates what is good.  We have what we need even if it doesn’t seem as though we have enough.  We can enter darkness in our world and in our souls knowing that we will endure, and that world has what it needs to illuminate truth, beauty and goodness.

Congregation Har Shalom is getting ready to construct its outdoor hanukkiah, which we light each night in front of the synagogue.  What will be different about this year’s Hanukkah Festivities at Har Shalom?

Generally the custom on Hanukkah is to light one candle for the first night, and one additional light each night until the eighth night when the hanukkiah is aglow with all eight branches burning brightly.  This custom was the custom of the School of Hillel.  A lesser known form of the ritual – that of the House of Shammai- is to light eight lights on the first night and one fewer each night until one candle remains lit.  This year, since it is a shmita or sabbatical year in which we allow fields to lie fallow as instructed by the Torah, our community has decided that we will light our public hanukkiah according to the lesser known tradition. This mirrors the shift away from production and cultivation of land which in our times can be construed as increasing consumption of energy and natural resources.  The lights of the universe and beyond will be felt most profoundly on the culminating 8th night instead of eight lights that are humanly constructed and lit.

The sabbatical year occurs every seven years and provides the opportunity for a shift in perspective towards humility in which we can explore the non-dominant approach.   Our usual way of doing things is interrupted and we take some time to retreat into stillness.  From there, new approaches to address old problems arise, a welcome opportunity in this challenging year.  We hope you will join us in staring into the night sky and that you will be blessed with discernment, and the lights of awareness and new hope.

Rabbi Shoshana Leis is co- rabbi of Har Shalom Center for Jewish Living.  Jennifer Geraci is the Vice President of Spiritual Practice at Har Shalom. Visit congregationharshalom.org for information on Hanukkah activities and more.

Thirteen Jewish organizations, under the umbrella of the Green Hevra, have issued the following joint statement today publicly calling on the U.S. government to reject the Keystone XL pipeline:

It has become abundantly clear that we are consuming far too many fossil fuels. In this Sabbatical/Shmita year, when the Torah calls for deeper gentleness toward the Earth, we are especially conscious of the dangers to the Earth from the drilling, transporting and burning of tar-sands oil. The resources that would be devoted to the Keystone XL pipeline should be devoted instead to initiatives in clean energy, a fast-growing field in which we hope the United States will take a leading position.

Climate change, worsened by burning more and more oil that the Keystone XL pipeline would permit, poses a grave threat to the security of the United States, Israel and the world.

Jewish tradition is not monolithic, and the issues around the pipeline are complex. But the Jewish community has consistently sought to take a stand in favor of creating a better world for all. It is hard for us to believe that building the Keystone XL pipeline could possibly do so.

This is not the first time that Jewish organizations have taken a stand against Keystone XL and we call upon fellow Jewish leaders to join us in encouraging President Obama and Congress to reject the Keystone XL pipeline.

Signed by the following members of the Green Hevra:

Amir

Aytzim: Ecological Judaism

Eden Village Camp

Energiya Global

Habonim Dror North America

Hazon

Jewish Climate Action Network

Jewish Farm School

Jews Against Hydrofracking

NeoHasid.org

Reconstructionist Rabbinical College / Jewish Reconstructionist Communities

The Shalom Center

Shoresh Jewish Environmental Programs

We lived with the wild animals once, rather than carving out separate spaces for us and our domesticated fellow travelers. According to the Torah, that is the real truth, and all the owning and property and buying and selling is an illusion. We can return to that truth during Shmita, when we get to root ourselves in a real way in the land – not by owning it by being with it. Not by fencing it but by taking down fences. Not by hoarding but by sharing everything, with all the creatures.

Here are the relevant verses about eating:

In the garden of Eden, “God said: Here, I have given to you all every plant seeding seed which is on the face of all the land and every tree which has in it tree-fruit seeding seed, for you all it will be for eating, and for every wild animal of the land and for every bird of the skies and for every crawler on the land in which there is a living soul (nefesh chayah), every green plant for eating. And it was so.” (Genesis 1:29–30)

In the story of the flood, “God said to Noah: …from all life from all flesh, two from all you will bring unto the ark to keep them alive with you, male and female they will be. From the bird by their species and from the animal by her species from every land crawler by their species, two from all you will bring unto you to make them live. And you, take for you from all the food which is eaten, and gather unto you, and it will be for you and for them for eating.” (Genesis 6:19–21)

And in the laws of the Shmita or Sabbatical year, it says, “YHVH/Adonai spoke unto Moshe in Mt. Sinai, saying: You all will come into the land which I am giving to you, and the land will rest, a Shabbat for YHVH/Adonai…And the shabbat-growth of the land will be for you all for eating: for you and for your male servant and for your female servant and for your hired worker and for your settler living-as-a-stranger with you; and for your animal and for the wild animal which is in your land, all of her produce will be to eat.” (Leviticus 25:6–7)

There is a debate among the the earlier rabbis, about whether the tree fruit in Eden was just for the human beings and the grass for the animals, or whether it was all for all of them. Nachmanides says that humans dined separately, but Rashi says that it truly was one family sharing one food supply. As for the ark, according to the midrash Noah had to create one great store of every kind of food, because each animal needed its own sustenance, and Noah and his family had to spend every hour of the day feeding the animals, since some ate at dawn and some during the day, some at dusk and some at night.

After the flood, in between the ark and Shmita, comes the tragedy of human history. The wars and usurpations, enslavements and empires, the amassing of gold and land by some and the impoverishment of others. And in between the two are also the tragedies of our relationship to the wild animals: not just using but abusing, extinguishing whole species, and losing touch with our own wild selves.

That’s reflected in the flood story: when Noah and family emerge from the ark, they are told that “a terror of you and a dread of you will be over every wild animal of the land and every bird of the skies, everything which crawls the ground and all the fish of the sea, into your hands they are given. All that crawls which lives, for you it will be for eating – like green plants I have given all to you all. Just don’t eat flesh with its soul, its blood.” (Genesis 9:2–3)

This is no blessing but a curse. And it is no dominion: according to one interpretation, the meaning of dominion in Eden was that when Adam would call to the animals, they would come to him. Now it would be the opposite – they will run away in terror. (“Rashi” on B’reishit Rabbah 34:12)

One question for us today, in this year of Shmita, is: how can we get ourselves back to the garden? Back before our fellowship with the animals was lost? That can’t mean turn the hands of the clock back on history. Shmita answers a slightly different question: how do we get back to the garden as grownups, after having eaten from the tree of knowing good and evil? It’s not about feigned or renewed innocence, but rather about knowing our power to destroy, and not exercising that power. It’s about finding fellowship with the land and the other animals. And above all, it is about finding rest – rest from ourselves, and rest with each other, with all the other ones that inhabit the land.

A midrash says that during the twelve months in the ark, Noah “did not taste the taste of sleep, not in the day and not in the night, for he was busy feeding the souls that were with him.” (Tanchuma Kadum Noach 2) Another midrash, says that when God was setting up the world, the earth heard God say, “It’s not good, the human being alone” and she realized this meant that human beings would begin to reproduce. Then the earth “trembled and quaked”, saying, “I do not have in me the strength to feed the flocks of humanity.” God promised the earth to feed humanity at night with sleep, and so share the burden with her. (Pirkei d’Rabi Eliezer ch. 12)

In our society, where almost everyone is racing to keep their jobs or make money or outcompete, we don’t really let ourselves sleep. As a society we never rest. We don’t get enough of this divine food. And it’s not because like Noah we are feeding all the creatures. But here’s what this midrash teaches us: a humanity that never rests is a humanity cut off from the unconscious, cut off from its divine sustenance, and it is a humanity that will destroy the earth.

It is time for us to rest, and to dream, as a whole society: Shmita.

It says in Proverbs 11:30, “The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life, and one who acquires souls is wise.” These souls are the animals, the midrash teaches, and it was because Noah was capable of caring for them that he was worthy of being saved from the flood. (B’reishit Rabbah 30:6) Are we worthy?

It also says in Proverbs 12:10, “A righteous person knows the soul of his animal.” It is time to practice this righteousness. Not just with the other animals, but also with ourselves. How will we know the soul of this animal within us? How will we make peace within, with each other, and with the land? How will we dream our animal dreams again? That is the door Shmita opens for us. That is the ark Shmita builds for us. And I believe that is how we get back to the tree of life in the garden.

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.

Yet for many Jews, climate change is still not seen as a “Jewish issue”. Now, to me it seems obvious that the decimation of life on our planet is as fundamentally important to Jews and Judaism as any explicitly Jewish issue. And the possible extent of impoverishment, disaster, and famine that could be brought on by climate change must be a Jewish issue if justice is a Jewish issue, which it surely is. But in case that simple logic doesn’t work for you, let’s be absolutely clear about what the specific Jewish implications might be.

According to a Ben Gurion University study, if we enter an era of what scientists consider extreme climate change – meaning an increase in average global temperature of more than 2 degrees – the Negev desert will expand 200 km northward. That means the desert will stretch far beyond Beersheva, beyond Raanana and Haifa, all the way into Lebanon. Almost all of the sh’feilah – the agriculturally productive lowlands – could be gone. On top of that, Tel Aviv will be under water due to rising sea levels. If that’s not an existential threat to Israel than nothing is.

So if you’re a Zionist or you care about the Jewish people and you think that the issue of climate change is not as important as “energy independence”, you have your values upside down. If you think the natural gas boom caused by fracking is good for Israel, or tar sands oil is good for Israel, then your picture of the world is missing some essential facts. Protecting Israel doesn’t just mean getting off of Arab petroleum, it means getting off of all petroleum. If you’re not advocating for that, you might as well be calling for the destruction of the state.

This week we will be praying for another year of life. We will blow the shofar to recall God’s original act of creation, and to herald the yearly renewal of Creation. This week we will also be ushering in the next Sabbatical year, the Shmita, when debts are canceled, the land is released, and the power that comes from possessing the land is lifted. And yet we still live in a world where mountains, along with all their ecosystems, are torn off in order to tear out coal. We still live in a land where polluted water is not considered too high a price to pay in order to extract oil and gas that will pollute our atmosphere. Where the debt to nature we incur will be paid by future generations, or, to use the Torah’s expression, where “we eat the flesh of our sons and daughters”. (Lev. 26:29)

Let’s make this Rosh Hashanah, and this Shmita, the year when all of that changes. Let’s get our institutions and portfolios to divest from Big Oil. Let’s get our synagogues and communities to stand up for the Earth. Let’s repay our debt to the planet with blessings and gratitude and right actions. Let us listen to the wake up call of the shofar and respond: “Hayom harat olam!” – “today, a new world is conceived!”

Rabbi David Seidenberg is the author of Kabbalah and Ecology: God’s Image in the More-Than-Human World, published by Cambridge University Press, and the creator and director of neohasid.org. An earlier version of this article appeared in the Los Angeles Jewish Journal.

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!