To Till and to Tend

Disposables, the cheap backbone of organized Jewish life, are so much a part of our experience that we don't even notice them.  Every meeting, every kiddush, every Hebrew school snack, at simchahs, shivas, namings, you name it - "paper goods" are at the ready.  The decision for most groups hasn't been whether to use disposables, but what "quality" to use.  Some high-end disposables are really perfectly reusable based on their weight; the reason we trash them is that they're cheap, since their environmental impacts and costs are not factored into their price.
About ten years ago when we had a large shabbat dinner preceding our son's bar mitzvah, I was determined to use real dishes.  They're much more aesthetically pleasing and so much less wasteful.  Since our synagogue didn't have any, I looked into renting them and discovered that while they were more costly than disposables (especially since it requires dish washing), purchasing them wasn't that much more than renting.  I located some at deep discount from an outlet, service for 60 for about $200.  We then contributed them to our synagogue as a gift, and they have been used over and over again for all kinds of occasions.  Given the cost of a simchah, $200 is a trivial amount, really, even if you add a budget item for the dishwasher.
Our minyan, Dorshei Derekh here in Philadelphia, ends Shabbat morning with a kiddush.  Like most every minyan in the world, we used little plastic or paper cups.  (Except when we ran out and substituted BIG plastic/paper cups!) At a  minyan meeting long ago, one eco-conscious member said this really bothered him and  proposed we put our heads together to  be more sustainable.  The  very low tech system we arrived it has  worked for more than years we can definitively count, at least 5 or 6.  We bought Ikea tea light holders, pictured above, four for $1.50.  We also bought heavy plastic cups and glasses.  (The plastic plates and glasses are primary colors and not too gorgeous; I don't think anyone envisioned using them for this many years.)  We place a heavy plastic receptacle in the corner and everyone busses their cups and plates into it.  One volunteer a week takes charge of washing them either on site (one week's worth fills a dishwasher) or at home, returning them before the next week.  Once or twice a year the volunteer forgets and we use disposables as a fall back, but it's pretty astonishing to contemplate how much waste we have diverted and how effective this utterly simple system is.  We have a Sustainability Coordinator and about 6-8 volunteers, so each volunteer's job turn every other month or so.
washing the community dishes cultivates humility, not a bad thing either. 
It would be great to share other communities' strategies for waste reduction here at the COEJL site.  Please report on your community efforts and success in this area; I'm sure many of the approaches are replicable.

 

 

Sometimes we hear crazy facts, so crazy that we say, “I have to see it to believe it.” What happens then, when we do see it? Do we always believe it? Are we then willing to alter the way we see ourselves and the world?

We’ve all heard of global warming. Many people even understand the basic science behind it, admit that it is human caused, and realize potential consequences. But how many people truly believe it? Would it help if we saw it?

Images of climate change abound: rising waters erode coastal communities, drought dries the land, water floods it. But these images are rarely in our proverbial backyard and rarely provide lasting inspiration.

Google Earth has attempted to show us the realities of climate change in our backyard, favorite vacation spot and dream destination. For years, it has been a site of incredible amusement (in doing research for this post, I “hiked” up the Rocky Mountains and “waded” across rivers in Glacier National Park). Using scientific data with its projections of a warming planet, Google Earth has become a tool to view the global climate changes that will affect us all. If you don’t already have it, download it for free here. Then, see the images of a warming globe (note that the numbers here are given in degrees Celsius), sea ice content and the spread of disease (calculated by the range of the disease vector/mosquito).

Though this isn’t the key to environmental enlightenment, maybe these tools will enable us to connect the climate-related dots in our personal lives. If you’ve had this eerie sense that local climate has changed since you were a kid - you can look at this map, zoom into your zip code and see just how much it has warmed, and how much it is forecasted to warm. Or, if it seems that you know more people (and, in my case, family) who’ve contracted malaria and dengue fever, with these tools, you begin to understand why.

There isn’t a miracle image or fact that will provide environmental enlightenment. Still, having one more tool under our belt surely won’t hurt and may inspire people to see, believe, and maybe even act.

Last night we surprised my son by showing up at his 25th birthday get-together, attending the Phillies-Nationals ballgame at the Nationals' beautiful new stadium. The Phillies won big-time, so Happy Birthday Zach! It's awesome to see the Capitol in the cityscape from the park, and they even shoot off fireworks when you get to "the rockets' red glare", and "bombs bursting in air" in the Star Spangled Banner. (I think they should substitute a release of peace doves for the "bombs bursting in air", but it's a nice feeling place all around.)
The stadium has impressively green kudos which are touted all over the stadium - urban infill, reusing a brownfield, superb metro connections and obscenely expensive parking, to discourage car use, green roofs, and an emphasis on materials from a 500-radius used in its construction, including salvaged content. Yes, it has recycling bins, a big improvement over other most public places I visit.
The food concessions present a different picture, less green by far, perhaps since they're subcontracted. Even though the food choices are conventional,  the plastics are by Greenware, composed of biodegradable material and therefore compostable. Though there was no evidence of actual composting, it's still great that they're not sourced from petroleum like conventional plastic. What I found a bit of a cognitive dissonance was the lack of anything fresh. It's true that people don't expect or even want ballgame food to be healthy, but I was hoping for a veggie hotdog. It would match the green cred of the stadium. Non-meat eaters can find fried fish. Vegetarians can go with pizza or nachos.  Vegans will need to stick to fries, pretzels, or the kosher garlic potato knish at the Kosher kiosk on Level 4.  (Yes, the Nationals Ballpark has a Kosher concession, but that doesn't help the planet much, serving tons of red meat requiring endless inputs.  So kosher, yes, but ecologically responsible, no.)
Good luck sneaking in a piece of fruit! And of course, no tap water allowed....

I've been feeling pretty self-righteous lately.  About a week ago, I switched our home power supply to wind.  It had been on my "list of things to do" for months.  Every time I walked into my synagogue, I made a mental note to contact Interfaith Power and Light to learn more about renewable offsets.  And I kept meaning to grab one of the brochures about "clean, green power" on display at my local hardware store.  But, between my packages and my children, I never seemed to have a spare hand or a spare minute.  Last week, I finally decided to make the switch.  And it feels great.

For months, I've asked Senate staffers to support a provision that would require 15% of US energy supply to come from renewable sources by 2030.  I've bemoaned the last-minute omission of this mandate from the Energy Bill, which was signed into law last December.  I've written blogs, issued action alerts, and signed multiple coalition letters about the need to extend renewable energy tax credits to encourage continued investment in wind power.  And then I remembered Gandhi's exhortation: "You must be the change you wish to see in the world."  Sure, I'd love to mandate that all Americans purchase clean, home-grown power. And I'd love to provide the incentives to make this economically viable. But climate change is moving faster than the political process – and I can vote for change with my light-switch.   As I wrote when the "We" campaign was first launched on national television, the key is to "mobilize America – and, in turn, empower our leadership." 
It turns out, this satisfaction is fairly cheap to come by.  For about 5 cents more per kilowatt hour – less than $500 per year – I can fuel my home on local wind power, instead of coal.  And you can, too (simply click here to find a green power supplier in your state). 

My purchase comes at a remarkable time.  Last Monday, the US Department of Energy released a new analysis concluding that wind energy could produce 20 percent of US electricity by 2030.  Critically, the report concludes that this energy could be reliably integrated into the grid for less than 0.5 cents per kWh.  This makes sense.  After all, the Energy Information Administration reports that the United States has the third highest wind power capacity in the world -- higher than Denmark. And the American Wind Energy Association reports that wind power has the potential to provide more than twice the electricity generated in the United States today!

At a time when our government (and each of us) is concerned about a faltering economy and lost jobs, the federal report estimates that the wind forecast will create 500,000 new jobs.  At a time when scientists are telling us that we need to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by more than 80% to avoid the most catastrophic effects of climate change, the federal report concludes that domestic wind capacity alone has the potential to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from the electricity sector by 25% (displacing up to 50% of natural gas and 18% of coal electricity demand). 

As a student in college, my car was emblazoned with the words: "If the people lead, the leaders will follow."  The 14,000 kWh my household uses this year will not single-handedly solve the climate crisis.  But imagine the cumulative effect if we all made the switch.  [Fellow COEJL blogger, Nina Beth Cardin imagined just that in this inspirational post]  And imagine how this effect can be multiplied when the political process catches up with popular demand. 

Click here to find out about COEJL's Earth Aid Kit campaign and purchase products that will make your electricity dollars go farther.

Click here for information from the Union of Concerned Scientists about various renewable energy options.

While end-of-year college doings may not seem like a Jewish issue, I see all opportunities for Bal Taschit as relevant for our COEJL community, especially since the Jewish community produces so many students and academics.
As any baby boomer parent can tell you, this generation of students has crammed a remarkably huge amount more stuff into their dorm rooms than we did - even though the miniaturization of college life is better now with Ipods and laptops.  The deal now is that your order your kids' "necessities" through a big box store and pick them up at the closest store to your campus.  This is incredibly easy at the beginning of the term, but poses enormous challenges at the end of term.  Typical problems are lamps and rugs - too large and too expensive to ship anywhere, but not provided by res life.  With very minimal storage options, lots of microwaves, swivel chairs, mini-refrigerators and scads of clothes have gone straight into dumpsters.  Where I live, the day the Penn students leave is practically a holiday West Philadelphia Dumpster Diver Day.
These past few years, mechanisms have been developed to help students be less wasteful and divert these perfectly functional items from landfill, saving colleges money and going easier on the planet.  Dump 'n Run is a national organization that advises students and administration on how to run such programs.  One nice twist is that many of them now store and resell these items to the next crop of students in the fall, with the proceeds going to charity.  Many virtues are happening here: more responsible behavior by students, when the options are in place.  High quality goods being REUSED,  (higher on the resource ladder than recycling, which actually requires energy to break items down; most of the donated items aren't recyclable anyway).  And this program saves incoming students money, by selling used items for cheap (saving resources at the same time), as well as raising proceeds for charity.  Yasher koach to all involved!
Below is the info my freshman daughter forwarded me, from her college, FYI:

1.  The PODs
PODs [portable on demand receptacles] are disbursed across campus.  Feel free to donate items to the PODs and if there's something in a POD that you can use, it's yours for the taking.

2.  WASTE NOT!

 

Consider donating items to the Waste Not! Item Collection and Tag Sale

 

During reading week, finals week, and senior week, areas will be marked off in the reshalls where you can leave stuff. If you live a program house, woodframe house, or apartment, you can call or email to arrange an item pickup!

Donate the following items:

clothing, furniture, refrigerators, microwaves, rugs, lamps, electronics, printers, alarm clocks, phones, textbooks, course packs, books for classes, other books, posters, dorm decorations, bedding, dishes, hangers, mirrors, CFL bulbs, electric tea kettles, food*, cleaning supplies*, laundry detergent*, brooms

 

*you can donate partially used items as long as they are sealed and in usable condition.

 

The items collected this semester will be sold back to the community at the beginning of next semester. Proceeds from the sale will go to local charities.

 

Check out the website for more information: http://www.wesleyan.edu/wsa/eon/wastenot

A common line one hears in religious circles is “God works in mysterious ways.”  Is it possible to conclude that when God realized people were going to love eating large, long-lived fishes (which were, after all, created on the 5^th day) to the point of oblivion, God actually made us humans pollute the waters so that eating these fish would be toxic to our bodies and we would moderate our consumption?

Probably not. While the notion may be laughable, it does shed light onto the occasional irony that is human induced pollution. While more often pollution and climate change work to endanger and eliminate species from our planet, in this case could our destructiveness save several? 

Some background information: Half of the planet’s atmospheric mercury is human generated, most to produce power that fuels our lives.  As the hunger for sushi has grown and globalization aids all fish exports, the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) estimates that over 70% of the world’s fish species are either fully exploited or depleted. 

The general public is only beginning to learn what pregnant and breast-feeding women (and some others) have known for years: many fishes have mercury, and it is dangerous to eat too much as mercury can get passed along through the placenta and breast milk. 

Though children and fetuses are at the highest risk, because their brains and nervous system are still forming, it has only recently been published that the quantities of mercury in the fishes we eat can be harmful to adults.  The Environmental Defense Fund has a useful report on mercury, from which I excerpt:

“Mercury exposure can also harm adults. Symptoms can include numbness, burning or tingling of the extremities (lips, fingers, toes); fatigue; weakness; irritability; shyness; loss of memory and coordination; tremors; and changes in hearing and blurred vision. Extremely high mercury levels can permanently damage an adult's brain and kidneys, or even lead to circulatory failure.”

Last January, the New York Times broke the story, “High Levels of Mercury Found in Tuna Sushi,” inspired talk, blog posts and more news reports.   Maybe people will be motivated to care for their bodies and eat less mercury heavy, over-fished fish?  Maybe, just maybe, one day our fisheries will be healthy, and eating the fish from them will be healthier, too.

Some Really Great Resources:
My favorite: Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch – a complete guide of all fishes and their health/environmental implications
Environmental Defense Fund’s Guide of “How many meals (of which fish) are safe to eat each month”
Hilarious analysis of the news threads from Newsweek, “Would You Like Mercury With Your Sushi?”

 

Tsimtsum, the Hebrew word for self-contraction, is a Kabbalistic, theological term which describes the Creator's self-contraction to make space for creation itself. (Hope you agree with how I boiled that really big concept down!) But I like to think of it in human behavioral terms, a goal or midah (virtue) to guide my actions. We certainly are not going to correct planetary crisis by virtuous actions alone - we need smart policy to go down that path - but virtuous acts add up and make a huge difference, one by one.
The kavanah, or intent, of one's actions can frame them in a spiritual way and give a positive spin to actions that might be perceived as onerous or negative. Curricula on Jewish Environmentalism always stress Bal Tashcit, the avoidance of waste. Thinking of not wasting act as tsimtsum gives a different flavor.
In secular culture we use similar language when we say someone "takes up a lot of space" - usually about their social persona. Tsimtsum can be both about taking up less air space in interactions but also about materially consuming fewer resources. So many opportunities to reign ourselves in a little!

• Carrying a set of utensils and mug, so you avoid disposables.
• Walking instead of driving.
• Staying put instead of jetting off on short vacations to distant places.
• Eating modestly - a vegetarian, or at least a meat-reductionist diet, saves many more resources for others.
• Not flushing the toilet every time you use it - quite a departure from American norms, but especially if you live alone, very sensible.
• Not buying bottled water, but taking the time to fill a bottle with tap water.
• Air drying laundry.
• Not accumulating too many clothes, shoes, or pocketbooks.
• Not leaving food on your plate. (In our culture of gargantuan proportions and excessive food at social events, this one is really challenging.)
• Not leaving lights and stoves on for Shabbat and instead devising a more environmentally responsible method of providing for your Sabbath needs.
• Carrying a name tag and reusing it at conferences and community events.

I'm sure the list of your tsimtsum moments is long, as well.
Share some! Let's see how long a list we can make. Together we can have LESS impact! Which is a way of actually having an impact, of course.

image from http://mysticlink.blogspot.com/ - "Pardes+HaTorah

In a rash attempt to alleviate this discomfort, our political leaders have proposed a "gas tax holiday."  For three months, we will (theoretically) spend about 18 cents less per gallon of fuel, or about 2 dollars each visit to the gas station.  Over the course of the summer holiday, the blog Autopia reports that this proposal will save the average American about $30.  Of course, it's unlikely we'll actually see this "tax break" at all, because oil companies will simply raise the price of gas by almost the size of the tax cut.  Americans will continue to pay roughly $3.61 a gallon – but now, our nation will lose billions in potential tax revenue, which could be used to maintain our nation's infrastructure.   And at a time when unemployment rates are already rising, the proposed gas tax holiday could cost more than 300,000 jobs.

The flaws of this approach are clear.  Automobiles are the second largest contributor to US greenhouse gas emissions. Shouldn't we be trying to reduce the amount Americans drive – rather than creating incentives for people to drive more?  And what better way to incentivize carpooling and public transportation than to raise the price of gas?  In fact, the market is already creating its own incentives, with AAA reporting a decline in miles traveled and sales of compact and subcompact cars reaching record highs last month – a trend Ford's chief sales analyst has called "the most dramatic segment shift" in his 31-year career. And if we want to encourage the use of clean-burning alternatives to fossil fuels and coal, shouldn't we give tax breaks for those alternatives?  Sadly, our leaders are painfully misdirected. They are offering a tax break on the behavior they hope to discourage – yet, as I described in my February 12 post, they have failed to extend tax breaks on activities they should reward. 

More than 2000 years ago, our ancestors fell victim to a similar scheme.  Left alone in the wilderness at the base of Mount Sinai, the Israelites built a golden calf in a desperate attempt to find security.  The calf, of course, did not offer any answers.  To the contrary, when Moses descended from the mountain, he rebuked the Israelites and repeated his journey to retrieve the Ten Commandments.  The calf was an exercise in futility – a false prophet that never brought its intended reward.

Today, it is our leaders who offer a false prophet – suggesting $30 could ease a troubled economy or eliminate our dependence on foreign extremists who control our oil markets.  Like the Israelites, we need strong leaders who can guide us through times of adversity.  We need leaders who will require our cars to drive farther on less fuel and who will support a growing transit system, who will invest in research on alternative energy and provide incentives for the people who use it.  In short, we need leaders who have the courage to introduce policies that will actually reduce our dependence on oil – so that it does not matter if prices rise. 

[For thoughtful commentary about ways to solve the fuel crisis, visit "Are Gasoline Prices Too High or Too Low" at the blog of the Friends Committee on National Legislation, "Greenlight on Washington."]
[Click here to read a letter from COEJL and a coalition of other faith organizations, businesses, construction companies, environmental organizations, investors, labor, nongovernmental organizations, public health organizations, states, trade associations and utilities seeking funding for tax breaks that matter]

Farmers’ Markets are great, but David Elcott has taken eating local to a whole new level.  This spring, he decided to tear up a section of his front lawn to create an organic community vegetable garden.  Through a guest-blog partnership with Jcarrot.org, we are excited to have David share his sacred journey towards sustainable farming with us.

 

 

I was going crazy today. Tech problems with my printer took hours. Nothing accomplished. A lousy conference call committee meeting. Exhausted. At five in the evening, I took the world into grip and, like Superman, ripped off my work clothes, put on my dirty sweats and headed out to the farm.

Okay, my “farm” is 50 x 18, torn from my front lawn which does not include my “cornfield” - a 20 x 5 plot ripped out from a different part of my lawn. I had my vegetable garden, berry patches and fruit trees in California when my kids were little. All year, crops flourished, beautiful. But New York is different – freezing cold, wet, snow – it never seemed worth it. Until I went over to the good side and realized I do not need to eat food I actually could grow that was being shipped from hemispheres and continents unknown. Michael Pollan added to my passion in describing the petroleum products I am ingesting. Strike a blow for energy freedom along with fresh produce steps away from my kitchen door. So I hauled in six cubic yards of organic topsoil, thirty bags of manure and some mushroom compost as well, spent two days with the pitchfork, the shovel, the hoe. Got everything ready to go.

 

The biggest hitch? I could not figure out when to plant. I had organic seeds that are kind of growing in my basement and some plants shipped from Petaluma (ouch, I just added a huge carbon footprint). Is it going to drop below freezing again? Is it safe to plant? Will my first New York foray into self-sustaining agriculture go bust?

 

But today, I was hungry to make something happen after a lousy work day. I checked the weather predictions and there was no sign of sub-freezing temperature (call that a weird faith statement in meteorology). So I flew out the door, took my fragile tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, a zillion different herbs, the radish, beet, basil and broccoli seeds, and dug my hands into the soil. Need I say more? Liberation of the soul; my personal revolutionary Tea Party that says we humans can no longer believe that carrots actually grow in bags at the supermarket. As I write, I am looking from my office window on to the dark soil and the beautiful green leaves—floppy eggplant leaves, small peppers, multi-colored herbs and fragrant tomatoes.

 

I hope to produce bushels more than I can eat. My plan is simple. I will invite neighbors and friends to harvest what they want whenever they want. I will leave a jar for contributions which will be given to our synagogue’s Fund for the Needy, a fair swap of fresh goodness for goodness “beyn adam l’adam” – from one human being to another.

 

The sun is about to set over the farm. My soul is content.

 

Stay posted for Part II of Sustainable Farmer, coming soon….

There has been a resurgence of interest in Sefirat HaOmer of late, as people are striving to reconnect with agricultural, natural cycles. While the Omer focuses on the maturation of the barley crop in Israel (as Liore taught a few posts ago), many of us have added a local focus as well. I live in Philadelphia and the Omer brackets a period of phenomenal greening and flowering as every dogwood and azalea struts its stuff. I love the progression of each flower and plant in a beautifully synchronized symphony of color, shape, fragrance and inflorescence.
The Omer prohibitions are explained by the season's element of anxiety: will the rain from the last season coordinate with the winds to support the new growing season? Not listening to music, not performing weddings, and not shaving or cutting hair are the most commonly observed; these restrictions end at Lag B'omer, Day 33 or the 49. (Also it is a period of semi-mourning for past losses during the Bar Kochba rebellion, but since I have to look this up every year, I'm guessing I'm not the only one that doesn't resonate with that explanation.)
Lent, the 40-Day period prior to Easter, is also a season of prohibitions for observant Christians. Eating a vegetarian diet, which included eschewing dairy products, was customary. There are theological explanations for this, but from an anthropological perspective it is likely that this was a ritualized way of making a virtue out of necessity, since in European life before the 20th century, by late winter food supplies were thinning and it was still quite a stretch before any fresh food became available. Herds had less to eat, and produced less milk as a result. This is also an explanation for celebrating dairy products on Shavuot. The milk begins to flow abundantly when the animals have more grass on which to graze!
Adding an eco-spiritual dimension to Lent is a logical step. Some observe Lent by choosing to give up something special - a food, an activity, or a habit. Forty days is a good stretch, but not forever! I was quite taken with a blog post at FeministFinance, where the author took on a Lenten Compact. The Compact is a shared commitment by a group to avoid retail purchases, in the interest of minimizing their consumption and ecological footprint. Compact Groups do this for an entire year. Their Yahoo Group is almost 9000 people, so they've got a lot of folks following this experiment. The idea is to obtain what you need by bartering, borrowing, or buying used. And of course the simplest strategy is to just be creative and do without. So much of our consumption is optional and impulsive. In addition to lowering their environmental impacts, those involved build a tight community.
It's late for this year, but I'd love to create an Omer Compact group, where for the 49 days (or at least 33!) of the Omer we would likewise commit to no purchasing or shopping for non-food items. Of course a lot of Jews do this 52 shabbatot a year, but we do more than our share of buying on the weekdays. Such commitments are self-instructive; it's an opportunity to analyze our behvaviors. Would we Omer Compacters be allowed to look at catalogs? Would we be allowed to accept packages that had been ordered BEFORE the Omer Count? The Talmudic interpretation possibilities could get really interesting!
If you're interested in organizing and participating in a 5769 Omer Pact, tell us your ideas and thoughts!