Did you enjoy the hazy sunrise this morning? It was beautiful. But it belies a sad fact. Yesterday morning, I awoke to the news that one of my running friends in Canada was being evacuated because of one of the Canadian wildfires. The video was terrifying.
All summer we have been plagued. Yes, plagued by Canadian wildfire smoke. By the horrendous tragedy in Maui. By flooding and tornados right here. Oppressive, dangerous heat which will be back this week. Repeat after me. Hydrate. Hydrate. Hydrate. A tornado in Rhode Island yesterday and now a hurricane or tropical storm about to hit the Los Angeles area. They haven’t seen one in something like 84 years. What’s going on here?
I am a lifelong Girl Scout. My love of the out-of-doors comes from many years camping, hiking, canoeing at Girl Scout camps throughout the Midwest, New England and yes, Canada. All summer I have been haunted by an old camp song, known as “Canadian Wilderness” or “The Life of a Voyager”.
One verse sings:
“The call of the lonely loon
coyotes howling at the moon
wind rustling through the trees
that’s our Canadian breeze
smoke rising from the fire
up through the trees in a stately spire
breathe a sigh in the evening glow
sun goes down, those north winds blow”
It paints a picture of canoeing from town to town and the beauty of the wilderness.
This has been the summer of smoke. Smoke from Canada. Smoke from wildfires. Beautiful sunsets. But those sunsets belie the fact that the smoke is dangerous. Air quality alert days. Hard to breathe. Apocalyptic looking photos. Must stay inside.
This is not a new problem. Years ago, Canada was not happy with the United States for sending acid rain to Canada. Now we hear some Americans unhappy with Canada for the smoke. The American government has sent aid. Still, it is not enough. Those fires, multiple fires may not even be fully out until after the first snowfall. And now there are fires in Washington, Montana.
It is not Canada’s fault alone. Climate change is real. It is hard to deny it, although some do, even in this the hottest summer ever recorded. Whatever you call it, the truth is that there have been ocean water temperatures in Florida of over 100 degrees. More than 15 days of scorching heat in the desert southwest of more than 115 degrees. Athens at 111 degrees—and Greece has fires too. Drought in Illinois leading to early fall leaves falling off trees in June. Tornados and floods and other storms. This is a global problem. It demands a global solution. Not years from now. Right now.
It also demands spiritual discipline. My friend, Rabbi Katy Allen considers herself an earth chaplain. She has been working on helping to preserve the earth for decades. I have spent Shabbat out in nature with her. Hiked with her. Harvested cranberries from a cranberry bog. Commuted to New York together to save gas. Listened to her story of her hand crocheted rainbow kippah and how she considers it a symbol of the climate crisis. Every year she publishes a series of readings during the month of Elul called Earth Etudes for Elul. Mine which includes much of today’s talk, will be published on Thursday, August 24th.
She is not the only Jewish leader working on our climate crisis.
Why are we talking about this topic today? Because while this portion contains one of the most famous quotes in Torah, “tzedek, tzedek tirdof, Justice, Justice shall you pursue,” But the full portion today also has the concept of bal taschit. Do not destroy or waste unnecessarily
Based on the quote, later in our portion: “When in your war against a city you have to besiege it a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees, wielding the ax against them. You may eat of them, but you must not cut them down.” You must not destroy. The Talmud makes this more universal than just a prohibition during wartime in order to include other forms of senseless damage or waste,
The Talmud applies the principle to extend to preventing the wasting of lamp oil, the tearing of clothing, the chopping up of furniture for firewood, or the killing of animals. In his explanation of this law, the Chinuch (Mitzvah 529) writes that “it is the practice of very righteous people not to waste anything, even a grain of mustard”.
The logic behind this principle is that if even in a time of war one could not destroy fruit trees, all the more so, one should not destroy or waste anything under normal circumstances. This talmudic principle of exegesis is called a kal v’homer, and is recongized in American jurisprudence as well. The Talmud even goes so far as to state that “…one who tears his clothes or breaks his vessels or scatters his money in anger should be considered like an idol worshipper (Shabbat 105b; and .Shabbat 67b).”
The Rambam in the Mishneh Torah says it this way:
“And not only [does bal taschit apply] to trees; rather, anyone who destroys dishes, or tears clothes, or demolishes a building, or stops up a spring, or destroys food in anger– [that person] transgresses the law of bal taschit.”
There are modern day applications of this including the growing field of Jewish environmentalism, and Jewish vegetarianism.
We are now in Elul, preparing for the Yamim No’raim, the Days of Awe. Yesterday as part of my weekly Weight Watchers meeting, we reviewed the concept of takling an awe walk. I love that tradition and I often snap a photo of some piece of beauty, a sunset, a flower. But awe also carries with it a sense of fear and trembling. The dictionary definition is “a feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder.”
One of the first steps in teshuvah, returning, repentance is confessing our sins.
Part of the Yom Kippur liturgy is reciting Al Chet, “ For the sin which we have sinned…” Here are few new verses for this emergency:
For the sin which we have sinned by not taking care of the earth.
And for the sin which we have sinned with our haughtiness.
For the sin which we have sinned by not listening to and believing scientists
And for the sin which we have sinned by denying what is happening.
For the sin which we have sinned by not realizing how interconnected we are.
And for the sin which we have sinned by not recognizing that our individual actions impact others,
For the sin which we have sinned by our reliance on fossil fuels.
And for the sin which we have sinned by not developing and using alternative energy sources.
For the sin which we have sinned by not protecting our waterways.
And for the sin which we have sinned by not providing drinkable water.
For the sin which we have sinned by continuing to purchasing to excess
And for the sin which we have sinned by using too much packaging.
For the sin which we have sinned by wanting food at any time from anywhere.
And for the sin which we have sinned by not supporting local farms and buying food “in season.”
For the sin which we have sinned by refusing to act.
And for the sin which we have sinned by refusing to protect our inheritance for the next generations.
For all of these sins, O G-d of Creation, pardon us, forgive us, grant us atonement
For all of these sins, Ruler of the whole Universe, inspire us, strengthen us and give us the courage to repair Your world.
This week I attended the Parliament of World Religions. It was founded right here in Chicago in 1893. If you go to the Art Institute, you will find a plaque over the door commemorating the first one. This year there were 200 Religions and 80 countries represented. As part of the events, I was asked to film an interview in the women’s tent. I ended my thoughts with the story of Honi.
We’ve told this story before—and it also reminds me of the story of the starfish.
One day, Honi Hame’agel was walking along a road. He came upon an old man planting a carob tree. Honi asked him when he thought the tree would bear fruit. The man replied not for 70 years. Honi asked if he thought he would live for seventy years and he would benefit from his planting. He answered, just as my ancestors planted for me, so too do I plant for my children and grandchildren.
Think you can’t make a difference? Our B-Mitzvah kids are. One is putting in a butterfly garden. Another is raising money for Surfrider. Come plant with us!
Excellent read. Reading what you write, my Rabbi, is always worth my time. Joy
Thank you! I missed you this week.
I think this is one of my favorite sermons that I’ve heard you deliver, Rabbi. The “al chets” were outstanding, and reading this I realize I did not hear your reference to the starfish story. However when I heard you tell Honi’s story, I immediately thought of the starfish story, and I was quite moved. Toddah rabbah!
Thank you. Not sure how to use the al chets just yet. I added the starfish story for the written version. So it wasn’t your hearing.
Rabbi, this spoke to my heart. I was able to feel each location, each description, experience the air, the trees, the moments. I love our Mother Earth, and try to do my part. I love knowing there are others who feel this way, at a time when so many do not honor our planet. And it reminds me there is always more I can myself do.
Sending you a link to something for tonight (Thurs, the 24th)