Environmentalism as a Jewish Ideal
The modern environmental movement appears to be the product of the mid-twentieth century. When the publication of Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring sounded the alarm about pesticides in 1962, it captured the attention of the public at large. The first Earth Day was celebrated in 1970. But, a brief perusal of Scripture shows that, as far as Judaism is concerned, environmentalism can be traced back to the literal Beginning.
Not long after the creation of man—set down even before the creation of woman—Adam was placed in the Garden of Eden to serve it and preserve it (Gen. 2:15). As stated by Rabbi Yitzhak Kaplan, head of the Twin Rivers Community Kollel and author of Machon Mishnas Rebbe Aharon, “Our King gave us a world to care for.”
How does Jewish law tell us to do that? One of the most important guiding principles is set forth in the laws of war, in which destroying trees is prohibited (Deut. 20:19). Although the written Torah goes on to allow destruction of trees that are known not to be sources of food (Id. 20:20), the Midrash takes a more stringent view. Bal Tashchit, “Do not destroy” in the Aramaic of the Talmud, refers to unnecessary burning of fuel (Shabbos 67b), unnecessary tearing of clothes or self-harm in anguish (Bava Kama 91b) or even treating clothing with carelessness (Berakhot 62b). According to the Rambam (Maimonides), destroying dishes, clothing, wood or buildings or even stopping up a stream is in violation of Bal Tashchit.
Relying on the Rambam and the Ramban (Nachmonides), the Sefer Chinuch, a thirteenth century compendium of laws stemming from the 613 mitzvot of the Torah, sets forth the simplest and most comprehensive explanation of the prohibition: do not destroy even one mustard seed, and save everything from destruction in any way possible (at 529). In short, in modern terms, preservation is conservation, the basis of all environmentalism, and this is where matters stood until the twentieth century.
Long hair and love beads may have gone the way of the landline, but the influence of the counterculture, for which they are among the most visible symbols, is still with us, not least in philosophical and political movements, both religious and secular. The Jewish Renewal movement, is a more or less New Age take on more or less traditional Judaism. Based on chavurot (prayer and study circles), it sought to integrate mysticism, meditation and ecstatic prayer to form a liberal, charismatic Judaism.
One of the prominent representatives of that movement, which he approached obliquely, not joining it completely until the 1990s, was Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, a former Lubovitcher Hasid who founded B’nai Or (Children of Light). In the 1970s, he coined the term “Eco-Kashrut,” a designation that would take into account the environmental costs of food in addition to its traditional kashrut status. An outgrowth of this idea can be found in Magen Tzedek (Shield of Righteousness), established in 2011 by the Rabbinical Assembly of the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, to certify already kosher-certified products with regard to ethical labor practices, animal welfare, environmental impact, consumer relations and integrity. The standards to be met are set out in a 19-page document, which can be found on its website. Good luck finding any certified products—or any recent activity, for that matter.
While the idea of another hechsher is looking more and more like a non-starter, it would be too simplistic to call it a failure. Eco-Kashrut may have found itself in a cul-de-sac, but the expression of the zeitgeist that it represents may have served to influence it in turn. Witness, Adamah (Land).
Nigel Savage, a British, Jewish financier born in that significant year of 1970, was hiking in Israel in 2000 when he was inspired to do something about what he felt was the Jewish community’s insufficient attention to the environment. “We entered human history in relation to the natural world,” he said. As a result, he directed his expertise to the formation of a Jewish organization devoted to sustainability and named it Hazon (Vision).
Less than a year after the founding of Hazon, the Jewish Federation of Baltimore established the Pearlstone Center, a conference and retreat venue in Reisterstown, Maryland. In 2006, Pearlstone added the Kayam Farm, devoted to hands-on environmental education, and in 2015 purchased a neighboring former camp to reach a total of 180 acres. In 2022, Pearlstone Center merged with Hazon to form the largest faith-based environmental organization in the United States.
Best described as an umbrella organization, the newly formed entity, Adamah, offers immersive retreats, Jewish environmental education programs, training for Jewish educators, vacation and summer camp programs, fellowships, grants and its own certification program, which enrolls other Jewish groups and organizations as part of a sustainability network, as well as fundraising activities to benefit the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies in Israel. Anyone wanting to do something to contribute to sustainability or to benefit the environment would be hard put not to find an already existing avenue at Adama.
For those who do not know where to begin, however, the charity bike rides, retreats, resilience farming and long-term internships and fellowships are a lot to take on; yet, we can all do more. (For specific suggestions, see the sidebar.) Rabbi Kaplan sees the care of the environment as part of our obligation to think beyond ourselves. “The Torah mentality is to care about others,” he said. “It is our responsibility to take care of the King’s grounds.”
Sue Kleinberg is a contributing writer to Jlife Magazine.
