Terumah: When G-d Goes Green:The Jewish View on Environmentalism
- January 31, 2014
- |
- 30 Sh'vat 5774
Rabbi YY Jacobson
20 viewsTerumah: When G-d Goes Green:The Jewish View on Environmentalism
Rabbi YY Jacobson
- January 31, 2014
Dedicated by David and Eda Schottenstein
Lead
A truck driver who had been delivering radioactive waste for the local reactor began to feel sick after a few years on the job and decided to seek compensation for his ailment. Upon his arrival at the workers' compensation department, he is interviewed by an assessor.
Assessor: I see you work with radioactive materials and wish to claim compensation.
Trucker: Yeah, I feel really sick.
Assessor: Alright then, Does your employer take measures to protect you from radiation poisoning?
Trucker: Yeah, he gives me a lead suit to wear on the job.
Assessor: And what about the cabin in which you drive?
Trucker: Oh yeah. That's lead lined, all lead lined.
Assessor: What about the waste itself? Where is that kept?
Trucker: Oh, the stuff is held in a lead container, all lead.
Assessor: Let me see if I get this straight. You wear a lead suit, sit in a lead-lined cabin and the radioactive waste is kept in a lead container.
Trucker: Yeah, that’s right. All lead.
Assessor: Then I can't see how you could claim against him for radiation poisoning.
Trucker: I'm not. I’m claiming for lead poisoning.
Ecology
It seems as though environmental concerns are in the news every day. Whether its radiation leaking from the Fukushima nuclear reactor, or crude oil running through a small Arkansas town, or the air pollution in India or China, environmental emotions can really heat up, health issues aside.
Since the Industrial Revolution, we as a species have had the ability to have an tremendous impact on our planet, and often a detrimental one. Whether its oil spills decimating marine life, and killing hundreds of thousands of birds, entire forests being stripped bare, thousands of rivers drying up, or air pollution, mankind wields terrible power over the Earth. But in recent years we have become conscious of global ecology. Environmental thinking has made us aware of the inter-connectedness of our actions. The destruction of a rain-forest in one part of the world can affect the climate in another.
[In 1982, a Jerusalem-born Jew living in Switzerland, by the name of Chaim Nissim, heard of a nuclear power station being built nearby, in France. Concerned about what he thought were the dangerous side effects of operating such a plant, he tried to take matters into his own hands.
Ever the resourceful Israeli, Chaim managed to procure an RPG rocket launcher and fired five rockets on the construction site in an effort to deter the developers. He made sure not to hurt any people in the process (In 1985, Nissim was elected to a MP office at the cantonal parliament of Geneva, under the aegis of the Green Party of Switzerland.) Nowadays, this radical-environmentalism is referred to as ‘eco-terrorism’, using means of terror for ecological purposes.]
This has become one of the most contentious issues of our time. In 1962, the New Yorker magazine began publishing a series of articles documenting the suspected environmental side-effects of pesticide use around some New York State farms. The pesticide in question was DDT, and there was evidence that it was killing off bird populations, and not just the mosquitoes it was intended for. Maybe it was also responsible for an increase in cancer rates?
The series was written by a woman named Rachel Carson, and was published that year as a book. Silent Spring became a huge bestseller, and helped launch the modern environmental movement, and was a factor in the creation of the Environment Protection Agency. Eventually the use of DDT was banned in the US, and thank G-d, the peregrine falcon and bald eagle number are up again.
But the story doesn’t end there. No-one disputed that DDT is a highly effective weapon against the transmission of mosquito-borne disease, like malaria, a global health risk responsible for the deaths of millions. By banning the pesticide, some critics claim, countless lives that could have been saved were lost. Even Carson herself made mention of the potential health benefits of DDT in her book.
Carson was also concerned with possibility that DDT was a carcinogen, and a serious health risk, but the episode was really the first time an environmental issue had reached public consciousness. In the 50 years since Silent Spring, the debate has broadened been repeated over and over again.
And the argument do not cease. For some, going green is the most important issue in life. All else is commentary. They claim, we are destroying our planet for our own selfish comforts. Others, go to the other extreme, asking how much should we really care? Our energy needs are an essential part of modern life! Without lumber, we cannot build houses! Doesn’t the world exist for us to make use of it?
The Recycled Joke
Maybe you’ve that one about the time a Texan, a Californian, and a hippy from Boulder, Colorado were sitting in a bar.
Suddenly, the Texan pulls out a bottle of Tequila, and flings it in the air, whips out a pistol and shoots the still air-borne Tequila. The bottle explodes into a thousand shards, and the Tequila sprays over the entire bar.
“Why on earth did you do that?,” cry out the annoyed, Tequila soaked patrons.
“Ah,” says the Texan, big deal! I live right near the Mexican border! I can get as much Tequila as like, whenever I like!”
Suddenly the Californian sends a bottle of wine flying through the air, draws a gun and shoots it. Everyone sitting at the bar is showered with red wine.
“That was nothing!” says the Californian. “I’m from the Napa Valley, we’ve got loads of incredible wines!”
The Boulderite hippy puts down his guitar, draws back his hair into a ponytail, and takes a deep breath. He hurls his craft beer into the air, pulls out a pistol, and shoots both the Texan and the Californian.
The patrons of the bar are in total shock, completely horrified but what they have just witnessed. “What was that for?”
“Well, you know,” says the hippy, “I’m from Colorado. We’ve got enough Texans, and we’ve got way too many Californians. But the glass bottles? They can and must be recycled!”
Most of us know some recycling fanatics who can take mixing up glass and plastic bottles a little too seriously, but surely there is a balance. At the core of these issues, there is the same central question, and fundamental cost-benefit analysis: How do we weigh our needs against the need to protect our environment?
This week, the Torah offers us a slightly more nuanced approach to the environment, presenting a perspective that rejects both extremes.
G-d As Decorator
After the thrilling, nation-defining events at Mount Sinai, just a couple weeks ago, our weekly Torah portion now turns to a fascinating aspect of the Jewish people’s story.
Until now, we have seen G-d as the Creator, and Guiding Hand in His people’s destiny. We have seen Him as Liberator, as Judge, Teacher and Law-giver.
Now, it’s G-d as Interior Decorator.
Over the course of four portions, the Torah discusses the design and construction of the Tabernacle in astonishing detail. G-d’s vision for His most manifest dwelling place on earth, the Mishkan in Hebrew, is incredibly precise. Over the next few weeks, we learn about the materials required to create the structure and its furnishings, the methods of construction, and the precise dimensions of everything from ceiling height, to the vessels used in the service of G-d.
G-d Going Green
Says the Midrash in this week’s portion:[1]
ד"א ועשית את הקרשים למשכן עצי שטים עומדים. למה עצי שטים? למד הקב"ה דרך ארץ לדורות שאם יבקש אדם לבנות ביתו מאילן עושה פירות, אומר לו, ומה מלך מלכי המלכים שהכל שלו כשאמר לעשות משכן אמר לא תביא אלא מאילן שאינו עושה פירות, אתם על אחת כמה וכמה.
Much of the Sanctuary was built from acacia wood, including all of its walls. “And you shall make the beams for the Mishkan erect acacia wood.” Why acacia wood? Says the Midrash:
The Holy One Blessed Be He gave a taught the proper way for all generations. If a person seeks to build his home using the wood of a fruit-bearing tree, he is told: When the King of all Kings, to whom everything belongs, said to make the Mishkan, he said to only bring wood from trees that do not bear fruit, then in your case, where you do not own the world, how much more should you refrain from using fruit-bearing trees?!
This fascinating Midrash seems to pose a challenge to the rest of the narrative. The entire Jewish people pitched in to donate the material for the Mishkan, contributing of only their finest possessions: Gold, silver, and copper were used in abundance; its walls were constructed of a gorgeously hued acacia wood; richly colored tapestries hung overhead, and various wools were joined together to form a roof over the entire structure. Some of the coverings consisted of animal hide. One such animal hide was that of the multi-coloured tachash, an animal so rare and exotic that according to our Sages[2], it existed “only in the days of Moses.”
But in the midst of all this divinely mandated opulence, suddenly, we have this appeal for austerity; a surprising touch of conservatism, and conservationism: Mind the trees! Be careful not to only to use only trees that don’t produce fruit! Considering that the Tabernacle roof made use of the hide of the tachash, an animal undoubtedly eligible for the World Wildlife Fund’s Critically Endangered list and almost as rare as Big Foot, doesn’t this ecological sensitivity seem a little odd? What are we to make of it?
What is more, in the service of the Mishkan, animals were offered as sacrifices. And abundant lumber was used daily to fuel the flames on the altar. Suddenly, G-d is concerned about using a fruit tree? Suddenly, G-d has become a “Greeny!”
Protect My Planet
In truth, this Midrash goes to the heart of the Torah’s view on the issue—and it is a nuanced perspective.
Another Midrash[3] tells a story that occurred at the beginning of creation, when the world itself was newly made.
בשעה שברא הקב"ה את אדם הראשון, נטלו והחזירו על כל אילני גן עדן ואמר לו: ראה מעשי כמה נאים ומשובחין הן, וכל מה שבראתי, בשבילך בראתי! תן דעתך שלא תקלקל ותחריב את עולמי, שאם קלקלת אין מי שיתקן אחריך.
At the time the Holy One Blessed Be He created Adam, the first human, He took him, and guided him around all the trees of the Garden of Eden. He told him: ‘See my works; how beautiful and magnificent they are. Everything I have created; I have created for you!
‘Be careful that you do not ruin and destroy my world, because if you ruin it, there is no-one to repair after you’.
Man, in the Jewish view, is not only the master but also the guardian of Nature. This is perhaps the best short definition of the ecological imperative as Judaism understands it. A guardian is entrusted with property that does not belong to him. His task is to take charge of it and eventually return it to its owner intact.
It can sometimes be all too easy to forget this relationship we have with the world, and to forget our role in it. We get so caught up in our own lives, and needs, wants, and dreams, that they take centre stage, crowding out our responsibilities to the world around us.
The Torah cautions us “Bal Tashchis”—do not destroy the world. Rambam writes in his Mishneh Torah:[4] “Whoever breaks a vessel, or tears a garment, or destroys a building, or shuts up a water supply or disposes of food in a destructive manner violates the command of ‘Bal Tashchis.’” The greatest of halachik authorities wrestled with issues such as whether, and under what circumstances, it is permissible to cut down a tree. In the Chasam Sofer[5] we find a strong presumption in favor of preserving natural resources like trees, even if it means uprooting and replanting them elsewhere.
The Carob Tree
The Talmud relates a beautiful story:[6]
A wise and holy man named Choni was journeying on the road and saw an old man planting a carob tree.
"How long will it take for this carob tree to produce fruit?" asked Choni.
"Oh, it will be about seventy years until fruit grows from this tree", answered the old man.
"Seventy years?" exclaimed Choni. "Are you sure that you will be living to be able to enjoy the fruit of this tree?"
"No" replied the old man, "I will not be alive at the time.”
“So why are you exerting yourself for something that will not benefit you?”
“I found carob trees in the world,” said the old man. “Just as my forefathers planted them for me, so too, am I planting this carob tree for my children".
This story highlights our duty to plant for the next generation so that the benefits from nature, which we gained in our lifetime, can be enjoyed by the following generations.
In Judaism, concern for the future—not becoming intoxicated by the present, but remembering our duties to our future—is imperative. It is fascinating: Take the Hebrew word “metzachek,” which means “he is laughing,” in the present tense. Whenever this word is used in the Torah it hints to complete promiscuity and immoral behavior. It is used to describe Ishmael’s violent life and to describe what the Jews did with the Golden Calf—in both cases representing a complete break down of moral boundaries. Yet the very same root, in the future tense, forms the name of Yitzchak—our second Patriarch, for “Yitzchak” means “he will laugh.” To be a Jew is to think of the future and not to become narcissistically absorbed only in my needs and comforts at the moment.
Where’s the Baby?
For weeks a six-year old lad kept telling his first-grade teacher about the baby brother or sister that was expected at his house.
Finally, one day the mother allowed the boy to actually feel the movements of the unborn child. The six-year old made no comment. Furthermore, he stopped telling his teacher about the impending event.
The teacher finally sat the boy on her lap and said, "Tommy, whatever has become of that baby brother or sister you were expecting at home?"
Tommy burst into tears and confessed, "I think Mommy ate it!"
Subdue the Planet!
And yet, here is the problem. At the very same time when G-d instructs Adam to protect the environment, G-d gives him and Eve the power to use and dominate His creations. "And God blessed them and said. Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it." How do we reconcile the two notions? Are we owners or custodians? Do we have rights or duties? Was the planet creates for us, or were we created to preserve the planet?
The answer is—and it is not the typical Jewish answer: Both are true. It is much deeper. The two are, in essence, one and the same. Our rights over the planet are no different than our duty to preserve the planet. It is one and the same thing.
Killing Animals?
What gives us humans the right to eat animals at all? Is it just because we have the ingenuity necessary to dominate and slaughter them that allows us to eat them? Let us go one step further: What gives humans the right to consume and destroy vegetation? What did the apple do wrong to have its young life cut short? Who gives me the right to kill a living tomato? Since the publishing of the 70’s of The Secret Life of Plants, scientists are coming to discover more and more what has been stated in the Kabbalah that plants and trees too have a “soul” and a “personality.” They even feel pain and hurt. Even the vegetarian must ask himself or herself these moral questions.
Let us go further, what gives me right to get out of bed, step down on the ground and in the process kill untold scores of mites? Every single time you take a step on the ground, some mite, aunt or other insect is being exterminated. Just because we CAN kill them, means that we MAY kill them? It seems that the most moral thing a man can do is just stay in bed! (Which may be the reason why so many teenagers do just that!)
Let us go further: While we lie in bed, we are actually murdering scored of bed bugs. Who gave us the right to uproot their life? It would seem, at last, that if you truly want to be moral and sensitive person, suicide is the only option… Because to live means to kill something or someone, be it even a grape or a bug.
Elevation
The answer, from a Jewish perspective is this: We have no rights over anything or anybody! We have duties, not rights. We were created to serve G-d, and a major part of our service to G-d is to employ His creation and unite it with its Divine source.
This marvelous insight has been articulated by the 11th century great Jewish Spanish leader, philosopher, and poet, Rabbi Yehuda Halevi in his book The Kuzari. There are four levels in creation, the inanimate and stagnant, like water, earth and minerals. Then there is vegetation which grows, but is stationary. Thirdly are the animals which have an emotional consciousness. Finally there is the human being, who has both a rational mind, to reason, reflect and wonder, and also the free will to act as he or she sees fit.
G-d set up the world to move in a state of ascension: The lower category serves the one above it. First there is the lifeless earth. Then, when watered, it sprouts forth grass, shrubs, plants, fruits, vegetables. Earth and water, the lowest category of existence, serve the botanic world—they nurture and are absorbed in the bushes, grass, tress etc.
The grass, which was served by the earth and the water, is in turn eaten by the animals. The second category, the botanic kingdom, serves and is absorbed in the third category, the animal kingdom, as the animals derive their primary nutrition from growing substances.
The third category, the animal kingdom, serves the fourth and highest category—the human being. Since the beginning of human history, we have used the bull to plow our fields, the horse to ride on, the donkey to carry our burdens, and scores if animals for nutrition, from the chickens eggs, to milk and meat. In the words of G-d to Adam and Eve: “Fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over all the beasts that tread upon the earth.”
Each level of the four levels merges with the level above it. Each level is inherently designed to serve and facilitate the level above it. This is engrained into the workings of nature. Water and earth feed the plants; plants feed the animals; and animals surrender to man.
But here we reach a dead-end: What becomes of everything once it climaxes in man? Where does man ascend to? Does the “buck stop here”? Was man created just to serve himself, to self-indulge? The earth serves the grass; the grass serves the cow; the cow serves the man. And man? What does he serve? Is he just the tyrant, narcissist, who keeps everything for himself?
And this is the value of Torah. This is where Judaism grants us the ultimate answer for the healing of our entire planet. The human being is charged with the mission of serving the fifth dimension of reality—the Divine Creator, the source of all of the categories of existence. The human person must climb to the fifth rung just as the first three levels rose to his fourth. He too must ascend to reach what is above him or her; he too was created to serve.
The human being, by virtue of his mind and free choice, is the only being who can discover and choose to serve the fifth dimension—the source and Creator of all the entire universe. The human being is the single creature who can transcend his natural ego and touch the Divine. All other forms of existence are pre-programmed; they act out of instinct. A human being, who can look up to heaven both physically and conceptually, has the ability of self-transcendence, of realizing G-d and dedicating his or her life to the service of the Almighty.
If he ascends and raises himself up to G-d, he validates and brings home all the other dimensions of creation. He justifies all of existence. By each level serving the one above it, and all of them serving man, man can now brings them all back to their singular source in G-d.
Sacrificing Your Animal
How does the human being climb to the fifth level? Ah! Just ast as it took tremendous sacrifice (no pun intended) for the cow to become ‘human,’ it takes tremendous sacrifice for the human to become ‘G-dly.’ We must work very hard on ourselves, to challenge our brute nature, to refine our emotions, to dedicate our lives and resources to the service of G-d through everything we do. This is called a life of “Avodas Hashem”—a life dedicated to sublimate our superficiality to the core of all existence.
This is why according to Jewish law we don’t eat breakfast before praying in the morning. If we haven’t yet prayed, if we haven’t connected our own lives to G-d, if we have not aligned our consciousness with the Divine, then what justification do we have to eat at all? Where are we taking it all to? Just to our stomachs? Just to live a selfish life? Indeed if eating is an end in itself then the animal rights activists are correct, but if we eat in the way G-d wanted to eat, if we eat to live in a G-dly way, then we have not only a right, but a responsibility to elevate the rest of creation.
The Goat
Once, Chassidim were farbrenging in the house of a great chassid, the Rashbatz. After some time they ran out of food, and they were trying to find a way to obtain some more.
The Rashbatz owned a goat, that provided him with milk, and was a source of livelihood for the family. However, recognizing that provisions for a farbrengen take precedence over anything else, when the Chassidim were unsuccessful in replenishing the supplies, the Rashbatz brought his goat and slaughtered it, providing ample food for the remainder of the farbrengen.
In the morning, the wife of the Rashbatz came screaming that their goat was stolen. But he calmed her down saying he knows where it is. She, however, would not calm down, insisting that they must take immediate action, and all the while the Rashbatz told her not to worry, that he knew its whereabouts.
Finally, he couldn’t put her off any more, so he explained to her: “The goat is still here as before; the difference is only that until now it was saying “meeeeeee, meeeeeeeeeee”, and now, instead, it is saying “Shema Yisroel, Hashem Elokanu, Hashem Echad”!
What You Are Needed For
The story is told of Reb Zalman Senders, one of the prominent chasidim of the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi. He was a very successful merchant who was open handed in his philanthropy with both family and strangers. Then, suddenly his business dealings began to fail one after the other. Things finally came to such a terrible point that he became completely bankrupt. His debtors swarmed around him demanding repayment, and his problems overwhelmed him. To complicate things further, he had two daughters of marriageable age as well as several poor relatives who also needed suitable matches.
What could he do? He decided to take his problems to his Rebbe, and so he set out for the city of Liadi.
Reb Zalman arrived late in the evening, and after reciting the prayers with a minyan, he sat down to wait his turn for a private reception with the Rebbe. When he was finally ushered into the Rebbe's study he poured out his heart, relating all that had befallen him, how all of his various business endeavors had failed and left him penniless.
"Rebbe," he said, "if it is will of Heaven that I be reduced to poverty, I am ready to accept the decree with love, but if I am unable to pay off my debts and marry off my daughter and the other young girls who are looking to me for their salvation, then I cannot accept it.
“The one thing that I ask is that I be allowed to pay all of my creditors and find suitable matches for my daughters and young relatives. After that, I am willing to live in poverty forever, if that is the will of G-d."
Rabbi Shneur Zalman was listening intently to Reb Zalman Senders recitation of his terrible problems. When it had finished he looked deep into the eyes of his brokenhearted chasid and said:
"You talk about all the things that you need, but you speak not of what you might be needed for! You focus on what you are needed for, and let G-d worry about what you need.”
Your Duty to the World
So do we have a right to destroy the environment? Absolutely not. But if we are using the environment for our service and connection with the Divine, we are not destroying it, but sublimating it, allowing it to be reunited with its source.
Hence, this “right” only exists when we are utilizing the environment for a truly productive purpose, for our endeavor to serve G-d. but simply to destroy a tree, or an animal, or anything else, because I feel like it, or for fun, is becoming deaf to the grandeur, majesty and holiness in every aspect of creation. To use a fruit tree when you can use an acacia wood tree is a sign of immoral insensitivity and callousness.
Every resource, every element of our lives, and every waking moment is a gift from G-d, to be treated with care and with dignity. Yes, to be used; but never abused.
The Wave
A wave is riding along the ocean having a grand time. As it draws near the shore, it notices the waves ahead of it crashing against the shore. My G-d, it breathes, this is terrible. Look what’s going to happen to me. Along comes another wave and asks, why are you so sad? You don’t understand, says the first wave, all of us are going in a few moments to be nothing. Isn’t it terrible? No. You don’t understand, replies the first wave. You are not a wave. You are part of an ocean.
- Comment
Class Summary:
It seems as though environmental concerns are in the news every day. Whether its radiation leaking from the Fukushima nuclear reactor, or crude oil running through a small Arkansas town, or the air pollution in India or China, environmental emotions can really heat up, health issues aside.
Since the Industrial Revolution, we as a species have had the ability to have an tremendous impact on our planet, and often a detrimental one. Whether its oil spills decimating marine life, and killing hundreds of thousands of birds, entire forests being stripped bare, thousands of rivers drying up, or air pollution, mankind wields terrible power over the Earth. But in recent years we have become conscious of global ecology. Environmental thinking has made us aware of the inter-connectedness of our actions. The destruction of a rain-forest in one part of the world can affect the climate in another. There are extremists in all directions.
This week’s portion offers us a slightly more nuanced approach to environmentalism. Much of the Sanctuary was built from acacia wood, including all of its walls. “And you shall make the beams for the Mishkan erect acacia wood.” Why acacia wood? Says the Midrash: The Holy One Blessed Be He gave a taught the proper way for all generations. If a person seeks to build his home using the wood of a fruit-bearing tree, he is told: When the King of all Kings, to whom everything belongs, said to make the Mishkan, he said to only bring wood from trees that do not bear fruit, then in your case, where you do not own the world, how much more should you refrain from using fruit-bearing trees?!
This fascinating Midrash seems to pose a challenge to the rest of the narrative. In the service of the Mishkan, animals were offered as sacrifices. And abundant lumber was used daily to fuel the flames on the altar. Suddenly, G-d is concerned about using a fruit tree? Suddenly, G-d has become a “Greeny!” How are we to understand this?
Dedicated by David and Eda Schottenstein
Lead
A truck driver who had been delivering radioactive waste for the local reactor began to feel sick after a few years on the job and decided to seek compensation for his ailment. Upon his arrival at the workers' compensation department, he is interviewed by an assessor.
Assessor: I see you work with radioactive materials and wish to claim compensation.
Trucker: Yeah, I feel really sick.
Assessor: Alright then, Does your employer take measures to protect you from radiation poisoning?
Trucker: Yeah, he gives me a lead suit to wear on the job.
Assessor: And what about the cabin in which you drive?
Trucker: Oh yeah. That's lead lined, all lead lined.
Assessor: What about the waste itself? Where is that kept?
Trucker: Oh, the stuff is held in a lead container, all lead.
Assessor: Let me see if I get this straight. You wear a lead suit, sit in a lead-lined cabin and the radioactive waste is kept in a lead container.
Trucker: Yeah, that’s right. All lead.
Assessor: Then I can't see how you could claim against him for radiation poisoning.
Trucker: I'm not. I’m claiming for lead poisoning.
Ecology
It seems as though environmental concerns are in the news every day. Whether its radiation leaking from the Fukushima nuclear reactor, or crude oil running through a small Arkansas town, or the air pollution in India or China, environmental emotions can really heat up, health issues aside.
Since the Industrial Revolution, we as a species have had the ability to have an tremendous impact on our planet, and often a detrimental one. Whether its oil spills decimating marine life, and killing hundreds of thousands of birds, entire forests being stripped bare, thousands of rivers drying up, or air pollution, mankind wields terrible power over the Earth. But in recent years we have become conscious of global ecology. Environmental thinking has made us aware of the inter-connectedness of our actions. The destruction of a rain-forest in one part of the world can affect the climate in another.
[In 1982, a Jerusalem-born Jew living in Switzerland, by the name of Chaim Nissim, heard of a nuclear power station being built nearby, in France. Concerned about what he thought were the dangerous side effects of operating such a plant, he tried to take matters into his own hands.
Ever the resourceful Israeli, Chaim managed to procure an RPG rocket launcher and fired five rockets on the construction site in an effort to deter the developers. He made sure not to hurt any people in the process (In 1985, Nissim was elected to a MP office at the cantonal parliament of Geneva, under the aegis of the Green Party of Switzerland.) Nowadays, this radical-environmentalism is referred to as ‘eco-terrorism’, using means of terror for ecological purposes.]
This has become one of the most contentious issues of our time. In 1962, the New Yorker magazine began publishing a series of articles documenting the suspected environmental side-effects of pesticide use around some New York State farms. The pesticide in question was DDT, and there was evidence that it was killing off bird populations, and not just the mosquitoes it was intended for. Maybe it was also responsible for an increase in cancer rates?
The series was written by a woman named Rachel Carson, and was published that year as a book. Silent Spring became a huge bestseller, and helped launch the modern environmental movement, and was a factor in the creation of the Environment Protection Agency. Eventually the use of DDT was banned in the US, and thank G-d, the peregrine falcon and bald eagle number are up again.
But the story doesn’t end there. No-one disputed that DDT is a highly effective weapon against the transmission of mosquito-borne disease, like malaria, a global health risk responsible for the deaths of millions. By banning the pesticide, some critics claim, countless lives that could have been saved were lost. Even Carson herself made mention of the potential health benefits of DDT in her book.
Carson was also concerned with possibility that DDT was a carcinogen, and a serious health risk, but the episode was really the first time an environmental issue had reached public consciousness. In the 50 years since Silent Spring, the debate has broadened been repeated over and over again.
And the argument do not cease. For some, going green is the most important issue in life. All else is commentary. They claim, we are destroying our planet for our own selfish comforts. Others, go to the other extreme, asking how much should we really care? Our energy needs are an essential part of modern life! Without lumber, we cannot build houses! Doesn’t the world exist for us to make use of it?
The Recycled Joke
Maybe you’ve that one about the time a Texan, a Californian, and a hippy from Boulder, Colorado were sitting in a bar.
Suddenly, the Texan pulls out a bottle of Tequila, and flings it in the air, whips out a pistol and shoots the still air-borne Tequila. The bottle explodes into a thousand shards, and the Tequila sprays over the entire bar.
“Why on earth did you do that?,” cry out the annoyed, Tequila soaked patrons.
“Ah,” says the Texan, big deal! I live right near the Mexican border! I can get as much Tequila as like, whenever I like!”
Suddenly the Californian sends a bottle of wine flying through the air, draws a gun and shoots it. Everyone sitting at the bar is showered with red wine.
“That was nothing!” says the Californian. “I’m from the Napa Valley, we’ve got loads of incredible wines!”
The Boulderite hippy puts down his guitar, draws back his hair into a ponytail, and takes a deep breath. He hurls his craft beer into the air, pulls out a pistol, and shoots both the Texan and the Californian.
The patrons of the bar are in total shock, completely horrified but what they have just witnessed. “What was that for?”
“Well, you know,” says the hippy, “I’m from Colorado. We’ve got enough Texans, and we’ve got way too many Californians. But the glass bottles? They can and must be recycled!”
Most of us know some recycling fanatics who can take mixing up glass and plastic bottles a little too seriously, but surely there is a balance. At the core of these issues, there is the same central question, and fundamental cost-benefit analysis: How do we weigh our needs against the need to protect our environment?
This week, the Torah offers us a slightly more nuanced approach to the environment, presenting a perspective that rejects both extremes.
G-d As Decorator
After the thrilling, nation-defining events at Mount Sinai, just a couple weeks ago, our weekly Torah portion now turns to a fascinating aspect of the Jewish people’s story.
Until now, we have seen G-d as the Creator, and Guiding Hand in His people’s destiny. We have seen Him as Liberator, as Judge, Teacher and Law-giver.
Now, it’s G-d as Interior Decorator.
Over the course of four portions, the Torah discusses the design and construction of the Tabernacle in astonishing detail. G-d’s vision for His most manifest dwelling place on earth, the Mishkan in Hebrew, is incredibly precise. Over the next few weeks, we learn about the materials required to create the structure and its furnishings, the methods of construction, and the precise dimensions of everything from ceiling height, to the vessels used in the service of G-d.
G-d Going Green
Says the Midrash in this week’s portion:[1]
ד"א ועשית את הקרשים למשכן עצי שטים עומדים. למה עצי שטים? למד הקב"ה דרך ארץ לדורות שאם יבקש אדם לבנות ביתו מאילן עושה פירות, אומר לו, ומה מלך מלכי המלכים שהכל שלו כשאמר לעשות משכן אמר לא תביא אלא מאילן שאינו עושה פירות, אתם על אחת כמה וכמה.
Much of the Sanctuary was built from acacia wood, including all of its walls. “And you shall make the beams for the Mishkan erect acacia wood.” Why acacia wood? Says the Midrash:
The Holy One Blessed Be He gave a taught the proper way for all generations. If a person seeks to build his home using the wood of a fruit-bearing tree, he is told: When the King of all Kings, to whom everything belongs, said to make the Mishkan, he said to only bring wood from trees that do not bear fruit, then in your case, where you do not own the world, how much more should you refrain from using fruit-bearing trees?!
This fascinating Midrash seems to pose a challenge to the rest of the narrative. The entire Jewish people pitched in to donate the material for the Mishkan, contributing of only their finest possessions: Gold, silver, and copper were used in abundance; its walls were constructed of a gorgeously hued acacia wood; richly colored tapestries hung overhead, and various wools were joined together to form a roof over the entire structure. Some of the coverings consisted of animal hide. One such animal hide was that of the multi-coloured tachash, an animal so rare and exotic that according to our Sages[2], it existed “only in the days of Moses.”
But in the midst of all this divinely mandated opulence, suddenly, we have this appeal for austerity; a surprising touch of conservatism, and conservationism: Mind the trees! Be careful not to only to use only trees that don’t produce fruit! Considering that the Tabernacle roof made use of the hide of the tachash, an animal undoubtedly eligible for the World Wildlife Fund’s Critically Endangered list and almost as rare as Big Foot, doesn’t this ecological sensitivity seem a little odd? What are we to make of it?
What is more, in the service of the Mishkan, animals were offered as sacrifices. And abundant lumber was used daily to fuel the flames on the altar. Suddenly, G-d is concerned about using a fruit tree? Suddenly, G-d has become a “Greeny!”
Protect My Planet
In truth, this Midrash goes to the heart of the Torah’s view on the issue—and it is a nuanced perspective.
Another Midrash[3] tells a story that occurred at the beginning of creation, when the world itself was newly made.
בשעה שברא הקב"ה את אדם הראשון, נטלו והחזירו על כל אילני גן עדן ואמר לו: ראה מעשי כמה נאים ומשובחין הן, וכל מה שבראתי, בשבילך בראתי! תן דעתך שלא תקלקל ותחריב את עולמי, שאם קלקלת אין מי שיתקן אחריך.
At the time the Holy One Blessed Be He created Adam, the first human, He took him, and guided him around all the trees of the Garden of Eden. He told him: ‘See my works; how beautiful and magnificent they are. Everything I have created; I have created for you!
‘Be careful that you do not ruin and destroy my world, because if you ruin it, there is no-one to repair after you’.
Man, in the Jewish view, is not only the master but also the guardian of Nature. This is perhaps the best short definition of the ecological imperative as Judaism understands it. A guardian is entrusted with property that does not belong to him. His task is to take charge of it and eventually return it to its owner intact.
It can sometimes be all too easy to forget this relationship we have with the world, and to forget our role in it. We get so caught up in our own lives, and needs, wants, and dreams, that they take centre stage, crowding out our responsibilities to the world around us.
The Torah cautions us “Bal Tashchis”—do not destroy the world. Rambam writes in his Mishneh Torah:[4] “Whoever breaks a vessel, or tears a garment, or destroys a building, or shuts up a water supply or disposes of food in a destructive manner violates the command of ‘Bal Tashchis.’” The greatest of halachik authorities wrestled with issues such as whether, and under what circumstances, it is permissible to cut down a tree. In the Chasam Sofer[5] we find a strong presumption in favor of preserving natural resources like trees, even if it means uprooting and replanting them elsewhere.
The Carob Tree
The Talmud relates a beautiful story:[6]
A wise and holy man named Choni was journeying on the road and saw an old man planting a carob tree.
"How long will it take for this carob tree to produce fruit?" asked Choni.
"Oh, it will be about seventy years until fruit grows from this tree", answered the old man.
"Seventy years?" exclaimed Choni. "Are you sure that you will be living to be able to enjoy the fruit of this tree?"
"No" replied the old man, "I will not be alive at the time.”
“So why are you exerting yourself for something that will not benefit you?”
“I found carob trees in the world,” said the old man. “Just as my forefathers planted them for me, so too, am I planting this carob tree for my children".
This story highlights our duty to plant for the next generation so that the benefits from nature, which we gained in our lifetime, can be enjoyed by the following generations.
In Judaism, concern for the future—not becoming intoxicated by the present, but remembering our duties to our future—is imperative. It is fascinating: Take the Hebrew word “metzachek,” which means “he is laughing,” in the present tense. Whenever this word is used in the Torah it hints to complete promiscuity and immoral behavior. It is used to describe Ishmael’s violent life and to describe what the Jews did with the Golden Calf—in both cases representing a complete break down of moral boundaries. Yet the very same root, in the future tense, forms the name of Yitzchak—our second Patriarch, for “Yitzchak” means “he will laugh.” To be a Jew is to think of the future and not to become narcissistically absorbed only in my needs and comforts at the moment.
Where’s the Baby?
For weeks a six-year old lad kept telling his first-grade teacher about the baby brother or sister that was expected at his house.
Finally, one day the mother allowed the boy to actually feel the movements of the unborn child. The six-year old made no comment. Furthermore, he stopped telling his teacher about the impending event.
The teacher finally sat the boy on her lap and said, "Tommy, whatever has become of that baby brother or sister you were expecting at home?"
Tommy burst into tears and confessed, "I think Mommy ate it!"
Subdue the Planet!
And yet, here is the problem. At the very same time when G-d instructs Adam to protect the environment, G-d gives him and Eve the power to use and dominate His creations. "And God blessed them and said. Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it." How do we reconcile the two notions? Are we owners or custodians? Do we have rights or duties? Was the planet creates for us, or were we created to preserve the planet?
The answer is—and it is not the typical Jewish answer: Both are true. It is much deeper. The two are, in essence, one and the same. Our rights over the planet are no different than our duty to preserve the planet. It is one and the same thing.
Killing Animals?
What gives us humans the right to eat animals at all? Is it just because we have the ingenuity necessary to dominate and slaughter them that allows us to eat them? Let us go one step further: What gives humans the right to consume and destroy vegetation? What did the apple do wrong to have its young life cut short? Who gives me the right to kill a living tomato? Since the publishing of the 70’s of The Secret Life of Plants, scientists are coming to discover more and more what has been stated in the Kabbalah that plants and trees too have a “soul” and a “personality.” They even feel pain and hurt. Even the vegetarian must ask himself or herself these moral questions.
Let us go further, what gives me right to get out of bed, step down on the ground and in the process kill untold scores of mites? Every single time you take a step on the ground, some mite, aunt or other insect is being exterminated. Just because we CAN kill them, means that we MAY kill them? It seems that the most moral thing a man can do is just stay in bed! (Which may be the reason why so many teenagers do just that!)
Let us go further: While we lie in bed, we are actually murdering scored of bed bugs. Who gave us the right to uproot their life? It would seem, at last, that if you truly want to be moral and sensitive person, suicide is the only option… Because to live means to kill something or someone, be it even a grape or a bug.
Elevation
The answer, from a Jewish perspective is this: We have no rights over anything or anybody! We have duties, not rights. We were created to serve G-d, and a major part of our service to G-d is to employ His creation and unite it with its Divine source.
This marvelous insight has been articulated by the 11th century great Jewish Spanish leader, philosopher, and poet, Rabbi Yehuda Halevi in his book The Kuzari. There are four levels in creation, the inanimate and stagnant, like water, earth and minerals. Then there is vegetation which grows, but is stationary. Thirdly are the animals which have an emotional consciousness. Finally there is the human being, who has both a rational mind, to reason, reflect and wonder, and also the free will to act as he or she sees fit.
G-d set up the world to move in a state of ascension: The lower category serves the one above it. First there is the lifeless earth. Then, when watered, it sprouts forth grass, shrubs, plants, fruits, vegetables. Earth and water, the lowest category of existence, serve the botanic world—they nurture and are absorbed in the bushes, grass, tress etc.
The grass, which was served by the earth and the water, is in turn eaten by the animals. The second category, the botanic kingdom, serves and is absorbed in the third category, the animal kingdom, as the animals derive their primary nutrition from growing substances.
The third category, the animal kingdom, serves the fourth and highest category—the human being. Since the beginning of human history, we have used the bull to plow our fields, the horse to ride on, the donkey to carry our burdens, and scores if animals for nutrition, from the chickens eggs, to milk and meat. In the words of G-d to Adam and Eve: “Fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over all the beasts that tread upon the earth.”
Each level of the four levels merges with the level above it. Each level is inherently designed to serve and facilitate the level above it. This is engrained into the workings of nature. Water and earth feed the plants; plants feed the animals; and animals surrender to man.
But here we reach a dead-end: What becomes of everything once it climaxes in man? Where does man ascend to? Does the “buck stop here”? Was man created just to serve himself, to self-indulge? The earth serves the grass; the grass serves the cow; the cow serves the man. And man? What does he serve? Is he just the tyrant, narcissist, who keeps everything for himself?
And this is the value of Torah. This is where Judaism grants us the ultimate answer for the healing of our entire planet. The human being is charged with the mission of serving the fifth dimension of reality—the Divine Creator, the source of all of the categories of existence. The human person must climb to the fifth rung just as the first three levels rose to his fourth. He too must ascend to reach what is above him or her; he too was created to serve.
The human being, by virtue of his mind and free choice, is the only being who can discover and choose to serve the fifth dimension—the source and Creator of all the entire universe. The human being is the single creature who can transcend his natural ego and touch the Divine. All other forms of existence are pre-programmed; they act out of instinct. A human being, who can look up to heaven both physically and conceptually, has the ability of self-transcendence, of realizing G-d and dedicating his or her life to the service of the Almighty.
If he ascends and raises himself up to G-d, he validates and brings home all the other dimensions of creation. He justifies all of existence. By each level serving the one above it, and all of them serving man, man can now brings them all back to their singular source in G-d.
Sacrificing Your Animal
How does the human being climb to the fifth level? Ah! Just ast as it took tremendous sacrifice (no pun intended) for the cow to become ‘human,’ it takes tremendous sacrifice for the human to become ‘G-dly.’ We must work very hard on ourselves, to challenge our brute nature, to refine our emotions, to dedicate our lives and resources to the service of G-d through everything we do. This is called a life of “Avodas Hashem”—a life dedicated to sublimate our superficiality to the core of all existence.
This is why according to Jewish law we don’t eat breakfast before praying in the morning. If we haven’t yet prayed, if we haven’t connected our own lives to G-d, if we have not aligned our consciousness with the Divine, then what justification do we have to eat at all? Where are we taking it all to? Just to our stomachs? Just to live a selfish life? Indeed if eating is an end in itself then the animal rights activists are correct, but if we eat in the way G-d wanted to eat, if we eat to live in a G-dly way, then we have not only a right, but a responsibility to elevate the rest of creation.
The Goat
Once, Chassidim were farbrenging in the house of a great chassid, the Rashbatz. After some time they ran out of food, and they were trying to find a way to obtain some more.
The Rashbatz owned a goat, that provided him with milk, and was a source of livelihood for the family. However, recognizing that provisions for a farbrengen take precedence over anything else, when the Chassidim were unsuccessful in replenishing the supplies, the Rashbatz brought his goat and slaughtered it, providing ample food for the remainder of the farbrengen.
In the morning, the wife of the Rashbatz came screaming that their goat was stolen. But he calmed her down saying he knows where it is. She, however, would not calm down, insisting that they must take immediate action, and all the while the Rashbatz told her not to worry, that he knew its whereabouts.
Finally, he couldn’t put her off any more, so he explained to her: “The goat is still here as before; the difference is only that until now it was saying “meeeeeee, meeeeeeeeeee”, and now, instead, it is saying “Shema Yisroel, Hashem Elokanu, Hashem Echad”!
What You Are Needed For
The story is told of Reb Zalman Senders, one of the prominent chasidim of the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi. He was a very successful merchant who was open handed in his philanthropy with both family and strangers. Then, suddenly his business dealings began to fail one after the other. Things finally came to such a terrible point that he became completely bankrupt. His debtors swarmed around him demanding repayment, and his problems overwhelmed him. To complicate things further, he had two daughters of marriageable age as well as several poor relatives who also needed suitable matches.
What could he do? He decided to take his problems to his Rebbe, and so he set out for the city of Liadi.
Reb Zalman arrived late in the evening, and after reciting the prayers with a minyan, he sat down to wait his turn for a private reception with the Rebbe. When he was finally ushered into the Rebbe's study he poured out his heart, relating all that had befallen him, how all of his various business endeavors had failed and left him penniless.
"Rebbe," he said, "if it is will of Heaven that I be reduced to poverty, I am ready to accept the decree with love, but if I am unable to pay off my debts and marry off my daughter and the other young girls who are looking to me for their salvation, then I cannot accept it.
“The one thing that I ask is that I be allowed to pay all of my creditors and find suitable matches for my daughters and young relatives. After that, I am willing to live in poverty forever, if that is the will of G-d."
Rabbi Shneur Zalman was listening intently to Reb Zalman Senders recitation of his terrible problems. When it had finished he looked deep into the eyes of his brokenhearted chasid and said:
"You talk about all the things that you need, but you speak not of what you might be needed for! You focus on what you are needed for, and let G-d worry about what you need.”
Your Duty to the World
So do we have a right to destroy the environment? Absolutely not. But if we are using the environment for our service and connection with the Divine, we are not destroying it, but sublimating it, allowing it to be reunited with its source.
Hence, this “right” only exists when we are utilizing the environment for a truly productive purpose, for our endeavor to serve G-d. but simply to destroy a tree, or an animal, or anything else, because I feel like it, or for fun, is becoming deaf to the grandeur, majesty and holiness in every aspect of creation. To use a fruit tree when you can use an acacia wood tree is a sign of immoral insensitivity and callousness.
Every resource, every element of our lives, and every waking moment is a gift from G-d, to be treated with care and with dignity. Yes, to be used; but never abused.
The Wave
A wave is riding along the ocean having a grand time. As it draws near the shore, it notices the waves ahead of it crashing against the shore. My G-d, it breathes, this is terrible. Look what’s going to happen to me. Along comes another wave and asks, why are you so sad? You don’t understand, says the first wave, all of us are going in a few moments to be nothing. Isn’t it terrible? No. You don’t understand, replies the first wave. You are not a wave. You are part of an ocean.
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Parshas Terumah 5774
Rabbi YY Jacobson
- January 31, 2014
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- 30 Sh'vat 5774
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Terumah: When G-d Goes Green:The Jewish View on Environmentalism
Rabbi YY Jacobson
- January 31, 2014
Dedicated by David and Eda Schottenstein
Lead
A truck driver who had been delivering radioactive waste for the local reactor began to feel sick after a few years on the job and decided to seek compensation for his ailment. Upon his arrival at the workers' compensation department, he is interviewed by an assessor.
Assessor: I see you work with radioactive materials and wish to claim compensation.
Trucker: Yeah, I feel really sick.
Assessor: Alright then, Does your employer take measures to protect you from radiation poisoning?
Trucker: Yeah, he gives me a lead suit to wear on the job.
Assessor: And what about the cabin in which you drive?
Trucker: Oh yeah. That's lead lined, all lead lined.
Assessor: What about the waste itself? Where is that kept?
Trucker: Oh, the stuff is held in a lead container, all lead.
Assessor: Let me see if I get this straight. You wear a lead suit, sit in a lead-lined cabin and the radioactive waste is kept in a lead container.
Trucker: Yeah, that’s right. All lead.
Assessor: Then I can't see how you could claim against him for radiation poisoning.
Trucker: I'm not. I’m claiming for lead poisoning.
Ecology
It seems as though environmental concerns are in the news every day. Whether its radiation leaking from the Fukushima nuclear reactor, or crude oil running through a small Arkansas town, or the air pollution in India or China, environmental emotions can really heat up, health issues aside.
Since the Industrial Revolution, we as a species have had the ability to have an tremendous impact on our planet, and often a detrimental one. Whether its oil spills decimating marine life, and killing hundreds of thousands of birds, entire forests being stripped bare, thousands of rivers drying up, or air pollution, mankind wields terrible power over the Earth. But in recent years we have become conscious of global ecology. Environmental thinking has made us aware of the inter-connectedness of our actions. The destruction of a rain-forest in one part of the world can affect the climate in another.
[In 1982, a Jerusalem-born Jew living in Switzerland, by the name of Chaim Nissim, heard of a nuclear power station being built nearby, in France. Concerned about what he thought were the dangerous side effects of operating such a plant, he tried to take matters into his own hands.
Ever the resourceful Israeli, Chaim managed to procure an RPG rocket launcher and fired five rockets on the construction site in an effort to deter the developers. He made sure not to hurt any people in the process (In 1985, Nissim was elected to a MP office at the cantonal parliament of Geneva, under the aegis of the Green Party of Switzerland.) Nowadays, this radical-environmentalism is referred to as ‘eco-terrorism’, using means of terror for ecological purposes.]
This has become one of the most contentious issues of our time. In 1962, the New Yorker magazine began publishing a series of articles documenting the suspected environmental side-effects of pesticide use around some New York State farms. The pesticide in question was DDT, and there was evidence that it was killing off bird populations, and not just the mosquitoes it was intended for. Maybe it was also responsible for an increase in cancer rates?
The series was written by a woman named Rachel Carson, and was published that year as a book. Silent Spring became a huge bestseller, and helped launch the modern environmental movement, and was a factor in the creation of the Environment Protection Agency. Eventually the use of DDT was banned in the US, and thank G-d, the peregrine falcon and bald eagle number are up again.
But the story doesn’t end there. No-one disputed that DDT is a highly effective weapon against the transmission of mosquito-borne disease, like malaria, a global health risk responsible for the deaths of millions. By banning the pesticide, some critics claim, countless lives that could have been saved were lost. Even Carson herself made mention of the potential health benefits of DDT in her book.
Carson was also concerned with possibility that DDT was a carcinogen, and a serious health risk, but the episode was really the first time an environmental issue had reached public consciousness. In the 50 years since Silent Spring, the debate has broadened been repeated over and over again.
And the argument do not cease. For some, going green is the most important issue in life. All else is commentary. They claim, we are destroying our planet for our own selfish comforts. Others, go to the other extreme, asking how much should we really care? Our energy needs are an essential part of modern life! Without lumber, we cannot build houses! Doesn’t the world exist for us to make use of it?
The Recycled Joke
Maybe you’ve that one about the time a Texan, a Californian, and a hippy from Boulder, Colorado were sitting in a bar.
Suddenly, the Texan pulls out a bottle of Tequila, and flings it in the air, whips out a pistol and shoots the still air-borne Tequila. The bottle explodes into a thousand shards, and the Tequila sprays over the entire bar.
“Why on earth did you do that?,” cry out the annoyed, Tequila soaked patrons.
“Ah,” says the Texan, big deal! I live right near the Mexican border! I can get as much Tequila as like, whenever I like!”
Suddenly the Californian sends a bottle of wine flying through the air, draws a gun and shoots it. Everyone sitting at the bar is showered with red wine.
“That was nothing!” says the Californian. “I’m from the Napa Valley, we’ve got loads of incredible wines!”
The Boulderite hippy puts down his guitar, draws back his hair into a ponytail, and takes a deep breath. He hurls his craft beer into the air, pulls out a pistol, and shoots both the Texan and the Californian.
The patrons of the bar are in total shock, completely horrified but what they have just witnessed. “What was that for?”
“Well, you know,” says the hippy, “I’m from Colorado. We’ve got enough Texans, and we’ve got way too many Californians. But the glass bottles? They can and must be recycled!”
Most of us know some recycling fanatics who can take mixing up glass and plastic bottles a little too seriously, but surely there is a balance. At the core of these issues, there is the same central question, and fundamental cost-benefit analysis: How do we weigh our needs against the need to protect our environment?
This week, the Torah offers us a slightly more nuanced approach to the environment, presenting a perspective that rejects both extremes.
G-d As Decorator
After the thrilling, nation-defining events at Mount Sinai, just a couple weeks ago, our weekly Torah portion now turns to a fascinating aspect of the Jewish people’s story.
Until now, we have seen G-d as the Creator, and Guiding Hand in His people’s destiny. We have seen Him as Liberator, as Judge, Teacher and Law-giver.
Now, it’s G-d as Interior Decorator.
Over the course of four portions, the Torah discusses the design and construction of the Tabernacle in astonishing detail. G-d’s vision for His most manifest dwelling place on earth, the Mishkan in Hebrew, is incredibly precise. Over the next few weeks, we learn about the materials required to create the structure and its furnishings, the methods of construction, and the precise dimensions of everything from ceiling height, to the vessels used in the service of G-d.
G-d Going Green
Says the Midrash in this week’s portion:[1]
ד"א ועשית את הקרשים למשכן עצי שטים עומדים. למה עצי שטים? למד הקב"ה דרך ארץ לדורות שאם יבקש אדם לבנות ביתו מאילן עושה פירות, אומר לו, ומה מלך מלכי המלכים שהכל שלו כשאמר לעשות משכן אמר לא תביא אלא מאילן שאינו עושה פירות, אתם על אחת כמה וכמה.
Much of the Sanctuary was built from acacia wood, including all of its walls. “And you shall make the beams for the Mishkan erect acacia wood.” Why acacia wood? Says the Midrash:
The Holy One Blessed Be He gave a taught the proper way for all generations. If a person seeks to build his home using the wood of a fruit-bearing tree, he is told: When the King of all Kings, to whom everything belongs, said to make the Mishkan, he said to only bring wood from trees that do not bear fruit, then in your case, where you do not own the world, how much more should you refrain from using fruit-bearing trees?!
This fascinating Midrash seems to pose a challenge to the rest of the narrative. The entire Jewish people pitched in to donate the material for the Mishkan, contributing of only their finest possessions: Gold, silver, and copper were used in abundance; its walls were constructed of a gorgeously hued acacia wood; richly colored tapestries hung overhead, and various wools were joined together to form a roof over the entire structure. Some of the coverings consisted of animal hide. One such animal hide was that of the multi-coloured tachash, an animal so rare and exotic that according to our Sages[2], it existed “only in the days of Moses.”
But in the midst of all this divinely mandated opulence, suddenly, we have this appeal for austerity; a surprising touch of conservatism, and conservationism: Mind the trees! Be careful not to only to use only trees that don’t produce fruit! Considering that the Tabernacle roof made use of the hide of the tachash, an animal undoubtedly eligible for the World Wildlife Fund’s Critically Endangered list and almost as rare as Big Foot, doesn’t this ecological sensitivity seem a little odd? What are we to make of it?
What is more, in the service of the Mishkan, animals were offered as sacrifices. And abundant lumber was used daily to fuel the flames on the altar. Suddenly, G-d is concerned about using a fruit tree? Suddenly, G-d has become a “Greeny!”
Protect My Planet
In truth, this Midrash goes to the heart of the Torah’s view on the issue—and it is a nuanced perspective.
Another Midrash[3] tells a story that occurred at the beginning of creation, when the world itself was newly made.
בשעה שברא הקב"ה את אדם הראשון, נטלו והחזירו על כל אילני גן עדן ואמר לו: ראה מעשי כמה נאים ומשובחין הן, וכל מה שבראתי, בשבילך בראתי! תן דעתך שלא תקלקל ותחריב את עולמי, שאם קלקלת אין מי שיתקן אחריך.
At the time the Holy One Blessed Be He created Adam, the first human, He took him, and guided him around all the trees of the Garden of Eden. He told him: ‘See my works; how beautiful and magnificent they are. Everything I have created; I have created for you!
‘Be careful that you do not ruin and destroy my world, because if you ruin it, there is no-one to repair after you’.
Man, in the Jewish view, is not only the master but also the guardian of Nature. This is perhaps the best short definition of the ecological imperative as Judaism understands it. A guardian is entrusted with property that does not belong to him. His task is to take charge of it and eventually return it to its owner intact.
It can sometimes be all too easy to forget this relationship we have with the world, and to forget our role in it. We get so caught up in our own lives, and needs, wants, and dreams, that they take centre stage, crowding out our responsibilities to the world around us.
The Torah cautions us “Bal Tashchis”—do not destroy the world. Rambam writes in his Mishneh Torah:[4] “Whoever breaks a vessel, or tears a garment, or destroys a building, or shuts up a water supply or disposes of food in a destructive manner violates the command of ‘Bal Tashchis.’” The greatest of halachik authorities wrestled with issues such as whether, and under what circumstances, it is permissible to cut down a tree. In the Chasam Sofer[5] we find a strong presumption in favor of preserving natural resources like trees, even if it means uprooting and replanting them elsewhere.
The Carob Tree
The Talmud relates a beautiful story:[6]
A wise and holy man named Choni was journeying on the road and saw an old man planting a carob tree.
"How long will it take for this carob tree to produce fruit?" asked Choni.
"Oh, it will be about seventy years until fruit grows from this tree", answered the old man.
"Seventy years?" exclaimed Choni. "Are you sure that you will be living to be able to enjoy the fruit of this tree?"
"No" replied the old man, "I will not be alive at the time.”
“So why are you exerting yourself for something that will not benefit you?”
“I found carob trees in the world,” said the old man. “Just as my forefathers planted them for me, so too, am I planting this carob tree for my children".
This story highlights our duty to plant for the next generation so that the benefits from nature, which we gained in our lifetime, can be enjoyed by the following generations.
In Judaism, concern for the future—not becoming intoxicated by the present, but remembering our duties to our future—is imperative. It is fascinating: Take the Hebrew word “metzachek,” which means “he is laughing,” in the present tense. Whenever this word is used in the Torah it hints to complete promiscuity and immoral behavior. It is used to describe Ishmael’s violent life and to describe what the Jews did with the Golden Calf—in both cases representing a complete break down of moral boundaries. Yet the very same root, in the future tense, forms the name of Yitzchak—our second Patriarch, for “Yitzchak” means “he will laugh.” To be a Jew is to think of the future and not to become narcissistically absorbed only in my needs and comforts at the moment.
Where’s the Baby?
For weeks a six-year old lad kept telling his first-grade teacher about the baby brother or sister that was expected at his house.
Finally, one day the mother allowed the boy to actually feel the movements of the unborn child. The six-year old made no comment. Furthermore, he stopped telling his teacher about the impending event.
The teacher finally sat the boy on her lap and said, "Tommy, whatever has become of that baby brother or sister you were expecting at home?"
Tommy burst into tears and confessed, "I think Mommy ate it!"
Subdue the Planet!
And yet, here is the problem. At the very same time when G-d instructs Adam to protect the environment, G-d gives him and Eve the power to use and dominate His creations. "And God blessed them and said. Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it." How do we reconcile the two notions? Are we owners or custodians? Do we have rights or duties? Was the planet creates for us, or were we created to preserve the planet?
The answer is—and it is not the typical Jewish answer: Both are true. It is much deeper. The two are, in essence, one and the same. Our rights over the planet are no different than our duty to preserve the planet. It is one and the same thing.
Killing Animals?
What gives us humans the right to eat animals at all? Is it just because we have the ingenuity necessary to dominate and slaughter them that allows us to eat them? Let us go one step further: What gives humans the right to consume and destroy vegetation? What did the apple do wrong to have its young life cut short? Who gives me the right to kill a living tomato? Since the publishing of the 70’s of The Secret Life of Plants, scientists are coming to discover more and more what has been stated in the Kabbalah that plants and trees too have a “soul” and a “personality.” They even feel pain and hurt. Even the vegetarian must ask himself or herself these moral questions.
Let us go further, what gives me right to get out of bed, step down on the ground and in the process kill untold scores of mites? Every single time you take a step on the ground, some mite, aunt or other insect is being exterminated. Just because we CAN kill them, means that we MAY kill them? It seems that the most moral thing a man can do is just stay in bed! (Which may be the reason why so many teenagers do just that!)
Let us go further: While we lie in bed, we are actually murdering scored of bed bugs. Who gave us the right to uproot their life? It would seem, at last, that if you truly want to be moral and sensitive person, suicide is the only option… Because to live means to kill something or someone, be it even a grape or a bug.
Elevation
The answer, from a Jewish perspective is this: We have no rights over anything or anybody! We have duties, not rights. We were created to serve G-d, and a major part of our service to G-d is to employ His creation and unite it with its Divine source.
This marvelous insight has been articulated by the 11th century great Jewish Spanish leader, philosopher, and poet, Rabbi Yehuda Halevi in his book The Kuzari. There are four levels in creation, the inanimate and stagnant, like water, earth and minerals. Then there is vegetation which grows, but is stationary. Thirdly are the animals which have an emotional consciousness. Finally there is the human being, who has both a rational mind, to reason, reflect and wonder, and also the free will to act as he or she sees fit.
G-d set up the world to move in a state of ascension: The lower category serves the one above it. First there is the lifeless earth. Then, when watered, it sprouts forth grass, shrubs, plants, fruits, vegetables. Earth and water, the lowest category of existence, serve the botanic world—they nurture and are absorbed in the bushes, grass, tress etc.
The grass, which was served by the earth and the water, is in turn eaten by the animals. The second category, the botanic kingdom, serves and is absorbed in the third category, the animal kingdom, as the animals derive their primary nutrition from growing substances.
The third category, the animal kingdom, serves the fourth and highest category—the human being. Since the beginning of human history, we have used the bull to plow our fields, the horse to ride on, the donkey to carry our burdens, and scores if animals for nutrition, from the chickens eggs, to milk and meat. In the words of G-d to Adam and Eve: “Fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over all the beasts that tread upon the earth.”
Each level of the four levels merges with the level above it. Each level is inherently designed to serve and facilitate the level above it. This is engrained into the workings of nature. Water and earth feed the plants; plants feed the animals; and animals surrender to man.
But here we reach a dead-end: What becomes of everything once it climaxes in man? Where does man ascend to? Does the “buck stop here”? Was man created just to serve himself, to self-indulge? The earth serves the grass; the grass serves the cow; the cow serves the man. And man? What does he serve? Is he just the tyrant, narcissist, who keeps everything for himself?
And this is the value of Torah. This is where Judaism grants us the ultimate answer for the healing of our entire planet. The human being is charged with the mission of serving the fifth dimension of reality—the Divine Creator, the source of all of the categories of existence. The human person must climb to the fifth rung just as the first three levels rose to his fourth. He too must ascend to reach what is above him or her; he too was created to serve.
The human being, by virtue of his mind and free choice, is the only being who can discover and choose to serve the fifth dimension—the source and Creator of all the entire universe. The human being is the single creature who can transcend his natural ego and touch the Divine. All other forms of existence are pre-programmed; they act out of instinct. A human being, who can look up to heaven both physically and conceptually, has the ability of self-transcendence, of realizing G-d and dedicating his or her life to the service of the Almighty.
If he ascends and raises himself up to G-d, he validates and brings home all the other dimensions of creation. He justifies all of existence. By each level serving the one above it, and all of them serving man, man can now brings them all back to their singular source in G-d.
Sacrificing Your Animal
How does the human being climb to the fifth level? Ah! Just ast as it took tremendous sacrifice (no pun intended) for the cow to become ‘human,’ it takes tremendous sacrifice for the human to become ‘G-dly.’ We must work very hard on ourselves, to challenge our brute nature, to refine our emotions, to dedicate our lives and resources to the service of G-d through everything we do. This is called a life of “Avodas Hashem”—a life dedicated to sublimate our superficiality to the core of all existence.
This is why according to Jewish law we don’t eat breakfast before praying in the morning. If we haven’t yet prayed, if we haven’t connected our own lives to G-d, if we have not aligned our consciousness with the Divine, then what justification do we have to eat at all? Where are we taking it all to? Just to our stomachs? Just to live a selfish life? Indeed if eating is an end in itself then the animal rights activists are correct, but if we eat in the way G-d wanted to eat, if we eat to live in a G-dly way, then we have not only a right, but a responsibility to elevate the rest of creation.
The Goat
Once, Chassidim were farbrenging in the house of a great chassid, the Rashbatz. After some time they ran out of food, and they were trying to find a way to obtain some more.
The Rashbatz owned a goat, that provided him with milk, and was a source of livelihood for the family. However, recognizing that provisions for a farbrengen take precedence over anything else, when the Chassidim were unsuccessful in replenishing the supplies, the Rashbatz brought his goat and slaughtered it, providing ample food for the remainder of the farbrengen.
In the morning, the wife of the Rashbatz came screaming that their goat was stolen. But he calmed her down saying he knows where it is. She, however, would not calm down, insisting that they must take immediate action, and all the while the Rashbatz told her not to worry, that he knew its whereabouts.
Finally, he couldn’t put her off any more, so he explained to her: “The goat is still here as before; the difference is only that until now it was saying “meeeeeee, meeeeeeeeeee”, and now, instead, it is saying “Shema Yisroel, Hashem Elokanu, Hashem Echad”!
What You Are Needed For
The story is told of Reb Zalman Senders, one of the prominent chasidim of the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi. He was a very successful merchant who was open handed in his philanthropy with both family and strangers. Then, suddenly his business dealings began to fail one after the other. Things finally came to such a terrible point that he became completely bankrupt. His debtors swarmed around him demanding repayment, and his problems overwhelmed him. To complicate things further, he had two daughters of marriageable age as well as several poor relatives who also needed suitable matches.
What could he do? He decided to take his problems to his Rebbe, and so he set out for the city of Liadi.
Reb Zalman arrived late in the evening, and after reciting the prayers with a minyan, he sat down to wait his turn for a private reception with the Rebbe. When he was finally ushered into the Rebbe's study he poured out his heart, relating all that had befallen him, how all of his various business endeavors had failed and left him penniless.
"Rebbe," he said, "if it is will of Heaven that I be reduced to poverty, I am ready to accept the decree with love, but if I am unable to pay off my debts and marry off my daughter and the other young girls who are looking to me for their salvation, then I cannot accept it.
“The one thing that I ask is that I be allowed to pay all of my creditors and find suitable matches for my daughters and young relatives. After that, I am willing to live in poverty forever, if that is the will of G-d."
Rabbi Shneur Zalman was listening intently to Reb Zalman Senders recitation of his terrible problems. When it had finished he looked deep into the eyes of his brokenhearted chasid and said:
"You talk about all the things that you need, but you speak not of what you might be needed for! You focus on what you are needed for, and let G-d worry about what you need.”
Your Duty to the World
So do we have a right to destroy the environment? Absolutely not. But if we are using the environment for our service and connection with the Divine, we are not destroying it, but sublimating it, allowing it to be reunited with its source.
Hence, this “right” only exists when we are utilizing the environment for a truly productive purpose, for our endeavor to serve G-d. but simply to destroy a tree, or an animal, or anything else, because I feel like it, or for fun, is becoming deaf to the grandeur, majesty and holiness in every aspect of creation. To use a fruit tree when you can use an acacia wood tree is a sign of immoral insensitivity and callousness.
Every resource, every element of our lives, and every waking moment is a gift from G-d, to be treated with care and with dignity. Yes, to be used; but never abused.
The Wave
A wave is riding along the ocean having a grand time. As it draws near the shore, it notices the waves ahead of it crashing against the shore. My G-d, it breathes, this is terrible. Look what’s going to happen to me. Along comes another wave and asks, why are you so sad? You don’t understand, says the first wave, all of us are going in a few moments to be nothing. Isn’t it terrible? No. You don’t understand, replies the first wave. You are not a wave. You are part of an ocean.
- Comment
Class Summary:
It seems as though environmental concerns are in the news every day. Whether its radiation leaking from the Fukushima nuclear reactor, or crude oil running through a small Arkansas town, or the air pollution in India or China, environmental emotions can really heat up, health issues aside.
Since the Industrial Revolution, we as a species have had the ability to have an tremendous impact on our planet, and often a detrimental one. Whether its oil spills decimating marine life, and killing hundreds of thousands of birds, entire forests being stripped bare, thousands of rivers drying up, or air pollution, mankind wields terrible power over the Earth. But in recent years we have become conscious of global ecology. Environmental thinking has made us aware of the inter-connectedness of our actions. The destruction of a rain-forest in one part of the world can affect the climate in another. There are extremists in all directions.
This week’s portion offers us a slightly more nuanced approach to environmentalism. Much of the Sanctuary was built from acacia wood, including all of its walls. “And you shall make the beams for the Mishkan erect acacia wood.” Why acacia wood? Says the Midrash: The Holy One Blessed Be He gave a taught the proper way for all generations. If a person seeks to build his home using the wood of a fruit-bearing tree, he is told: When the King of all Kings, to whom everything belongs, said to make the Mishkan, he said to only bring wood from trees that do not bear fruit, then in your case, where you do not own the world, how much more should you refrain from using fruit-bearing trees?!
This fascinating Midrash seems to pose a challenge to the rest of the narrative. In the service of the Mishkan, animals were offered as sacrifices. And abundant lumber was used daily to fuel the flames on the altar. Suddenly, G-d is concerned about using a fruit tree? Suddenly, G-d has become a “Greeny!” How are we to understand this?
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