Prophets and Profits
Rabbi Shaanan Gelman with Rabbi Ariel Rackovsky
Israel is not
just the startup nation, home to the titans of technology such as Intel and
that tiny camera pill; it is tragically and inexplicably the home of the
world’s cheapest, flimsiest plasticware,
items so embarrassingly rock bottom you wouldn't find them in an American
dollar store. Given the inferior quality of Israeli disposables, it’s no
surprise that Israel is second in the world in consumption of single-use
plasticware, known in Israel as חד פעמי.
Every cup requires a reinforcement and every meal necessitates several
iterations of the same utensil, because the first two or three snapped or
melted. Just before Rosh Hashanah, a
group of illustrious Israeli Rabbis signed a memorandum in which they begged the
Israeli public to reduce their reliance on plasticware. You may have heard of
some of the signatories to the letter: Rabbi Shlomo Aviner, head of Jerusalem’s
Ateret Yerushalim Yeshiva; Rabbi Yuval Cherlow, director of the Tzohar Center
for Jewish Ethics at the Tzohar rabbinical organization and the Ofra settlement’s chief Rabbi Avi Gisser.
As this issue has gained traction, other environmental issues have also taken
root in Israel, including the establishment of the very first carpool lane ever
in Israel[1].
These stories
emerge onto the scene precisely when our attention was drawn to a public outcry
over environmental concerns. Leading the
charge was the now famous Swedish teen Greta Thunberg, a polarizing figure who
either lacks perspective and self-awareness, or is a modern-day prophet- depending
mostly on where you stand on the issues she was describing.
As Jews, the fact
that Rabbis have recently issued an environmental declaration might raise our
eyebrows. The Orthodox community has, historically, been silent, indifferent or
even oppositional to environmental conversations. This reticence is
understandable; often, the spokespersons of environmentalism speak with a
fervor matched by the most zealous religious practitioners- yet they are often
not conventionally religious themselves. Some might even say that
environmentalism has become a religion of its own, in which those who follow
its constructs are saintly, and those who ignore them are profligate sinners.
This has served as a turnoff to many in our community. However, the imperfect,
annoying or sanctimonious messengers should not render the message invalid. I’m
not here to quote any of the abundant scientific research that has emerged over
the last several decades, indicating that we wrought damage to the planet with
severe, immediate and far reaching consequences. I am certainly not here to
quote the pundits on all sides, either hyping up or downplaying the issue. What
I am here for is to teach Torah and expound upon the messages of the glorious
holiday of Sukkos.
The talmud tells
us that the Arba minim, the four species must taken דרך
גידולן
, in accordance with their manner of growth. We are doing our utmost to honor
and preserve nature as it is in its initial form. Interestingly, the Bnei Yisaschar points out that each of
these species share something in common: they can grow naturally, and unabated,
without the interference of people.
Another
connection between Sukkos and nature is the halacha that the schach that covers your Sukkah must be
harvested from a natural source; wooden slats, bamboo, pine boughs- all these
are suitable. However, the moment it is
turned into a kli, a vessel fashioned
by man, it is no longer appropriate for use.The technical reason is that a
vessel can contract ritual impurity, but it is also because the Sukkah is no
longer in pristine form, as God intended it. Paradise has been spoiled.
Throughout most
of the year, man is challenged to be productive, to generate something of
substance from very little; to turn a canvas into a work of art, to turn steel
and wood into a house, and to use brains and ingenuity to generate revenue and
income. The challenge with this kind of life is that we become increasingly
distant from nature, and forgetful of the gift that was handed to us. For eight
days, however, we are tasked with a different kind of productivity- maintaining
God’s world in its most unspoiled form. Consider for a moment the hoops we jump
through to preserve the aravos each
year. Ask three Jews, and you will get four opinions on the best way to store
your Aravos each night: wrap in a wet cloth, wrap it in aluminum foil or not,
in the fridge or not, or do nothing at all. We sense that there is some kind of
preservation we need to perform, and that there are steps we need to take, but
all we know is that we have a simple mandate: preserve as best we can[2].
The Medrash
relates a conversation between God and Adam. He took him by the arm and showed
him each tree, proclaiming- “all of this beauty was created for your benefit!
Pay attention and don’t destroy my world, for if you do, there is no one to
repair it after you.”
קהלת רבה (וילנא) פרשה ז
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
This means that
man may use nature only in such a way as to enhance it, not put it at risk; to
appreciate it as it is, and not try to wrestle it under our control. We must
use it, but only for what need, and not in a way that overburdens the planet.
Nature is not a destination, it’s not a resource exclusively for our needs and
pleasures. It is a place where we meet God; picture Him holding you by the hand
and asking you “please don’t destroy my world.”
So if we are
stewards of this planet, what obligation is placed upon us? None of us can save
the planet single-handedly, but we must do our own share. Perhaps that means we
need to rethink our obsession with meat; I am certainly among the carnivores,
and I know I’m not prepared to remove meat from my diet completely. But what if
we removed meat from our diet one day a week? You don’t even have to do without
the delicious taste- there are several kosher restaurants in our community that
now serve The Impossible Burger. If we
are intellectually honest, we should realize that reducing our consumption of
meat alleviates strain on limited planetary resources. As Rav Moshe Cordovero, in his classic
Kabbalistic work Tomer Devorah stated:
Because
of this, a person should not denigrate any creatures, for they were all created
with intelligence. Therefore, a person should not uproot any growing items with
no purpose, and should not kill any living thing for no reason, and when he
does have to kill an animal, he should do so with a knife that has been
properly checked so as to minimize pain.
Reb Aryeh Levine
(1885-1969), known as the ‘Tzaddik of Jerusalem,’ recorded the following
incident in his memoirs:
I recall the early days, after 1905, when God granted me the
privilege to ascend to the Holy Land; and I arrived at Jaffa. There I first
merited meeting our great master, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook (of blessed memory),
who greeted me with good cheer, as was his sacred custom to receive all people.
We chatted together on various Torah topics. After an early
Minchah (the afternoon prayer-service), he went out, as was his custom, to
stroll a bit in the fields and collect his thoughts. I accompanied him.
During the walk, I plucked a twig or a flower. Our great master
was taken aback when he saw this. He told me gently:
“Believe me — in all my days, I have been
careful never to pluck a blade of grass or flower needlessly, when it had the
ability to grow or blossom. You know the teaching of the Sages, that there is
not a single blade of grass below, here on earth, which does not have a
heavenly force above telling it, Grow!
“Every sprout and leaf of grass says
something, conveys some meaning. Every stone whispers its inner message in its
silence. Every creature utters its song [of praise for the Creator].”
Those words, spoken from a pure and holy heart, engraved
themselves deeply on my heart. From then on, I began to feel a strong sense of
compassion for all things[3].
Perhaps we can
start thinking about the way we conduct ourselves at smachot and other public
functions. There’s nothing wrong with using the same plate when you want to
take seconds from the buffet; if we did that here, we wouldn’t just save money-
we would reduce our imprint on God’s world. Not to mention following the
recommendation of the Rabbis in Israel.
Perhaps we can look into reducing our reliance on disposable
plasticware, switching to paper and biodegradables.
In addition to
the environmental and financial benefits of conservation, there is another
benefit to awareness of this mitzvah. What if, once a month, we went through
our pantries in search of canned or dried goods we won’t use. Rather than just
sitting there taking up space or worse, throwing them away, call up Chicago
Chesed Fund or the ARK and donate them.
This is not a
Democratic or Republican value, it is not a liberal or conservative mandate, it
is a Jewish one. Just a few days ago, a
conscientious member of our kehila asked me about the kashrut of plant-based
drinking straws. This is the same person
who has also asked intricate and high-level halachic questions in kashrut and
other areas.
If there is a
novel message emerging from the holiday of Sukkos, it is that God’s voice
beckons all of us to become one with nature once again. As we head toward
finishing the Torah and Parshas Bereishis is on the horizon, we can understand
that one of the tragic results of the banishment from Eden is the distance we
feel from God’s creations, and from our responsibility for them. Let us learn
the message of the Sukkah, and creation itself, and be worthy stewards of our
world- לעבדה
ולשמרה.
[2] Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch comments
on one of the most difficult phrases in the Torah. נעשה אדם-
let us make man. With whom is God
conferring? Who else gets to weigh in on the creation of mankind? Rav Hirsch
notes that all creatures are mentioned only once they are created, but Adam was
mentioned even prior to his conception. This is because even before man was
created, God had to run the idea by the rest of creation, as they would be most
affected by man’s stay on this earth. As a courtesy, God turned to every component
of nature and said, “Shall we forge man?” Indeed, every time the Torah mentions
God speaking in the plural- whether for an act of creation or an act of
destruction, like the flood- it means that God gave the courtesy to all those
who would be affected by His actions.
רש"ר הירש בראשית פרק א
(כו) כל שאר הברואים נזכרו רק בעת בריאתם, ואילו האדם נזכר עוד בטרם נברא. כביכול, הבריאה עומדת על עמדה; והבורא מודיע לעולם - על רצונו לברוא "אדם". הן "אדם" זה ישלוט בעולם כשליט וכמנהיג מאת ה'. עתה מכינים את העולם לקראת בוא אדוניו. במובן זה יש להבין גם את לשון הרבים של "נעשה". הן זו משמעותה המקורית של לשון רבים, המשמשת כלשון של כבוד (pluralis
majestatis). מלך בשר ודם, המצוה בלשון רבים, רומז בכך על טיב שלטונו: אין הוא מצוה על פי רצונו האישי ולמען טובתו האישית, אלא הוא רואה את עצמו קשור אל עמו; הוא גוזר גזירות ומתקין תקנות רק לטובת הכלל ושלומו. הוא גוזר על הרבים - כנציגם של הרבים. וכן הדבר גם כאן: הבורא מכריז על שלטון האדם - לטובת העולם ומדאגה לייעודו. וכן מצינו בפרשת דור הפלגה: "הבה נרדה", "נבלה שם" (בראשית יא, ז). האומות הופצו לטובת עתידן הן. כל מקום שה' מדבר בלשון רבים, התערבותו נראית כהגבלה ופורענות, - אך לאמתו של דבר היא מביאה ישע ופדות:
"Hirsch also gave a novel
interpretation to the phrase in Genesis 1, ‘Let us make man in our image after
our own likeness.’ The passage is puzzling, for at that stage, prior to the
creation of man, God was alone. The ‘us’, says Hirsch, refers to the rest of
creation. Because man alone would develop the capacity to change and possibly
endanger the natural world, nature itself was consulted as to whether it
approved of such a being."
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