Did anyone get woken up by a lawn mower? Maybe not today, a little rainy. Traditionally, Jews do not mow on Shabbat. It is considered work, but most of us here at CKI do not live in very Jewish neighborhoods so the sound of mowers on Shabbat, early morning, all afternoon, is pervasive.  

This week is a double Torah portion. We finish reading the book of Leviticus. When we do, just before we lift and dress the Torah we will stand and say “Chazak, chazak v’nitchazek. Be strong, Be strong and be strengthened.” Some people really struggle with the Book of Leviticus. They have been taught that this book is directed primarily at the priests telling them how to set up the ancient sacrificial structure. How the priests were the mediators between God and the people. What value does it have for us today?  

There are some notable exceptions. For instance, just two weeks ago we read the section that is called “The Holiness Code” that is directed to all of us. You shall be holy, for I the Lord your G-d am holy. Not just Moses, not just Aaron or Aaron and his sons, but all of us. All the children of Israel. All of the children of Israel, even us today are to be holy. 

We are told to love our neighbors as ourselves. And it is there we are told we should leave the corners of our field for the widows, the orphans and the sojourners, as I often say the most vulnerable among us. We live that out at CKI with our community garden that we give to Elgin Cooperative Ministry for their soup kettle program, feeding the most vulnerable amongst us.  

This week again our portion begins “The Lord spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai. Speak to the Israelite people and say to them.” Not just to Moses but to all of us. This week is about something radical. When we enter the land that God promised to Abraham, and Isaac and Jacob, we should observe a sabbath of the Lord. Every six years the land needs to rest. We call this a shmita year. Pretty radical that God and the Israelites understood crop rotation. Pretty radical that they had figured out a way to make sure that even in a shmita year that people would still have food to eat.  

Now here is the question. Does it still apply to us? This is Judaism. Some say yes, some say no. Some say it only applies in the land of Israel. According to Etz Hayyim, the Israeli version of the Committee of Jewish Law and Standards ruled that these laws are neither biblically or rabbinically required, however, they are a middat hassidut, an act of piety. They recommend that Israeli kibbutzim set aside one field and they give a percentage of their income to the poor because that was the original purpose of the law. (page 739) 

The shmita laws go even further. We count off seven times seven years so that In the 50th year we are to “proclaim liberty throughout the land” It is a jubilee year. Debts are forgiven. It goes to the question of who really owns the land—us or maybe G-d. In actuality, the text suggests that it is G-d. After all, we are told, “The earth is the Lord and the fullness thereof.” 

These are complicated laws—and they do have some modern implications. According to the Jerusalem Post: 

“the Israeli government owns 93% of the country’s land. This ownership structure originated in 1948, when Israel was founded as a meager nation-state. It came about amid government fears that someone would buy out the land and ultimately overrule the authorities. Today, the Israel Land Authority leases land for a period of 49 years, usually with an option to extend the lease for another 49. It does not sell it, but the state does grant property owners title to the land they live on. So practically speaking, there is no meaningful distinction between freehold and leasehold arrangements in Israel.” (Jerusalem Post, Nov 22, 2022)  

But what about us here in the United States. Last year was a shmita year here and in Israel. Our decision at CKI about the community garden was that hungry people still need to eat. We let one “field” go fallow and continued to tend the other plots. The work of Hazon in their sourcebook were ideas that we studied. https://issuu.com/hazon/docs/shmita_sourcebook_final_full  

This is not a shmita year. The community garden needs some help. Hungry people still need to eat. Next week you will hear about a Bat MItzvah project to build a butterfly garden. This seems to fit squarely with a new movement to restore prairie land to its natural state. Last year for Tu B’shevat instead of getting parsley seeds you received butterfly seed paper. We hoped you planted it. Milkweed is necessary to the prairie and necessary to ensuring butterflies and bees are around. Now we are told that this is No Mow May. An opportunity to let the land rest. 

“No Mow May” is a quick and catchy name for a movement that aims far beyond not mowing the yard for a month. It’s more than long grass and dandelion blooms. It’s a gateway to understanding how we share our lawns with many small creatures. Lawns cover 40 million acres, or 2%, of land in the US, making them the single largest irrigated crop we grow. Lawns are mowed, raked, fertilized, weeded, chemically treated, and watered⁠—sucking up time, money, and other resources. Lawns provide little benefit to wildlife, and are often harmful. Grass-only lawns lack floral resources and nesting sites for bees and are often treated with pesticides that harm bees and other invertebrates. When we think of habitat loss, we tend to imagine bulldozers and rutted dirt, but acres of manicured lawn are as much a loss of habitat as any development site. https://beecityusa.org/no-mow-may/  

Whether you choose to mow your lawn or not, we’ve given you something to think about today. Leviticus. For all of us. Even today. Now on to Numbers. Chazak.