To Till and to Tend

Today marks a rare moment in time – one that no one alive will experience again.  It is the 14^th of Nissan, the eve of Passover, a full moon, all of which represent the beginning of spring and the renewal of life.  The 14^th of Nissan comes around every year.

Today is also the day we celebrate the return of the sun to its place in the heavens at the precise time of creation – Birkat HaHammah, Blessing of the Sun. On Birkat HaHammah, we set aside time to appreciate the gift of the Sun and all life that comes from its energy.  This day happens once every 28 years.

Tradition states that the confluence of these dates, this particular arrangement of the cosmos, has happened only twice before: first, when the Israelites emerged from the bondage of Egypt to become a People; second, when they were saved from the evils of persecution under Haman.

On this day of celebrating new beginnings, beginnings of natural life cycles, solar capabilities and the Jewish people, I, too, celebrate a new beginning. 

Over the past two and a half years I have had the honor and privilege of journeying with the Jewish community as we seek to become true stewards of the Earth working to fix the world we have been destroying.  Though I continue on this personal and communal journey of sustainability, I will no longer be doing so with COEJL. 

This morning I had the privilege of waking up at dawn to watch the sun rise above the Long Island Sound, and for the first time in my life recite two blessings, neither of which is unique, but together, marked an extraordinary powers and potential of the day.

For Birkat HaHammah (and natural wonders like lightning and grand vistas) we say:

Blessed are you, Eternal our God, Source of the Universe, who does the works of creation (also can be translated as beginnings) – oseh ma-aseh bereishit.

For the wonders of this moment (and any firsts) we say:

Blessed are you, Eternal our God, Source of the Universe, who has given us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this sacred moment – shehechiyanu, v’kiemanu, v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.

This morning, these blessings were filled with the moment, thoughts of the past years at COEJL and the hopes of the years to come. I thank each of you for journeying with me on this mission and sustaining me in this sacred work. The wonders of this world are the constant moments of renewal and birth. Today, Jewish tradition encourages us to celebrate this with the hopes of spring and the renewable energies of the sun. May all of our beginnings commence with the powers of this day.   

When we’re younger, first learning what it means to be responsible individuals, adults periodically reward us for our good actions.  From weekly allowance to a neighbor’s tip for watching the cat while they were away, money was good reinforcement for encouraging more good deeds.  We learned the value of money and a job well done. 

As we get older, we began to understand that certain actions have merit beyond monetary payment. (Those of us in the non-profit sector understand this quite well.) We make our beds because we like our rooms to look tidy.  We wash the dishes and take out the garbage because we hate roaches and other pests.  We water a neighbor’s plants while they’re away because we like them and hope that they will return the favor. 

I no longer expect money for fulfilling my responsibilities to my family, community or planet. 

Consequently, I was surprised and a little weirded out to receive a $25 gift card from the New York Blood Center thanking me for my recent donation.  I am O+ and have never had trouble giving blood, so I try to donate as often as I can.  I appreciate the post-donation juice and cookies, and go home feeling that the deed was gift enough.

And then a few weeks later I got this monetary Thank You in the mail, forcing me to question myself and good deeds.  Would I be more conscientious of donating blood more regularly if I knew every time I would get paid?  Same question with a twist, would people do more mitzvot if God doled out a quarter each time?

I would love to live in a world where everyone loved doing good deeds for the warm-fuzzy feeling (let’s not even bother with altruism). But as we wait for that world, maybe $25 gift cards and Obama’s stimulus package are the way we have to go.  

Topsy-turvy.  Today, we dress up in costume, eat hamantaschen, drink wine and do that which makes us merry.  While listening to the chanting of Megilat Esther, I searched for some wise eco-words that I could share here.  I got nothin’.  Absolutely nothin’. 

But, just because there is no moral in the Purim story to encourage environmental stewardship – gluttony just doesn’t work with the standard eco-themes – doesn’t mean that we can’t infuse the holiday with lessons from the rest of our lives. 

• Mishloach Manot / Purim Gift Baskets: Canfei Nesharim, an incredible organization that works to bring environmental awareness and action to the Orthodox community, offers eco-mishloach manot.  There is even one that focuses on the upcoming Birkat HaHammah celebration. 
• Go organic and/or local: From fruit fillings (I use dried fruit, myself) to wine, one can fill their Purim table with edibles that are good for the Earth and delicious to the taste buds.
• Recycled costumes:  One could go out to the store to buy a costume… Or, you could be creative with clothes that you have, run into a second-hand store or even rent-a-costume.

Purim Sameach!  Hope you each had a wonderful, celebratory Purim.

I don’t think I’ve ever minded “being different,” but I have to admit, it’s sometimes nice to be part of a group. 

For the past two years, I’ve had three garbage bins in my apartment: trash (as Whole Foods notes – Landfill), recycle and compost.  Trash and recycle I can conveniently drop off in the bins downstairs, but unlike cities like San Francisco, I don’t have a special green bin for my compostables.  So what’s a gal to do?  About once a week, I tie up my bag of compost and bring it downtown to the Union Square Green Market.  There, the Lower East Side Ecology Center has a compost drop-off.   At their stand, I empty my bag filled with carrot tops, egg shells and squash rind and can buy fresh compost for my plants.  I am not sure it gets much easier than that.

I am no fool – I know this is a bit “different,” but as I said, I’m ok with that.  But the cool thing is, it’s not so different anymore.  Even in the heart of winter, I find myself finding other urban composters to chat with as we’re dumping our goods.  Thanks to a NYTimes article published last month, I learned that there are people across NYC who take composting to the next level, and (with the help of worms) compost in their own home!  Best of all, this communal effort really adds up.  Below is from a LESEC e-newsletter: 

We have collected more than 130 tons of food scraps from New York City residents this year! Not only is that twice what we collected in 2007, but it’s more than 1200 lbs of food per collection day. 

This matters because:

• Landfill space: Food accounts for about 13 percent of the nation’s trash — it is the third largest component after paper and yard trimmings — and about 16 percent of New York’s
• As compost biodegrades, it doesn’t release methane, a potent greenhouse gas (due to ventilation)

One of the most frequent questions I received while running the “How Many Jewish Does it Take to Change a Light Bulb?” campaign was “Does it really matter if I change my light bulb?”  I understand the root of the question, but I have always responded with an unwavering “Yes!”  We don’t exist in a vacuum.  Each of us acts as part of a community of friends, family and faiths, and as we act as a collective, real change occurs. 

Maybe it’s the cupids and heart cut-outs still adorning every storefront.  Maybe it’s the full realization that my darker-than-most-Ashkenazi-Jew skin is really not so dark right now.  Or, it could be the wonder that today I walked all the way to the subway in the morning and to the bakery this afternoon with powerful sun rays pouring down on me!  You see, I like to walk down the sunny side of the street, but during the winter, that’s no easy feat.  

Since December 21^st, the sun has been shining down on the northern hemisphere for a little bit longer every day.  The Winter Solstice, which is commonly noted as being the shortest day of the year, also marks the point at which the sun is lowest in the horizon. 

The changes are often subtle, but bit by bit, day by day, sunshine appears where it had been missing for months.  I thrive in these changes.  You see, my NYC apartment faces due south – aka has incredible sun exposure… except in the deepest of winter when the sun has trouble reaching over the short building across the street.  But a few weeks ago, on a Shabbat afternoon, while reading on my couch (with plenty of indirect light coming through), I was hit with this powerful, direct sunbeam.  That first day, the sun only peaked above the building for a short visit.  As the weeks have passed, I can now fall asleep in that light, and wake up some time later in it, too.

My excitement of the sun is not all that unique.  From the Egyptians god, Ra – to modern day sun-worshipers (see picture of Tel Aviv beach) – praising the sun has been around for millennia. But in a Jewish context?

Once every 28 years, Jews have the chance to take a step back from their daily routine and Jewishly bless the sun.  We call the event Birkat HaHammah – Blessing of the Sun. On April 8, Jews across the world will be celebrating the sun and its wonders.  There is a lot to appreciate – sunlight, food (which grows by photosynthesis) and energy (nearly every kind).  Though this year marks the 206^th cycle of the sun, it seems the sun is peaking in popularity: from the steady increase of farmer’s markets to the various forms of solar energy, it is an exciting time to bless the sun

Communities are just beginning to plan their Birkat HaHammah celebration.  As you do, please share your event on the wiki Local Events page.

I wrote this piece last week, but it seemed appropriate to put it up today.  I will still add more tomorrow.

Tu B’Shvat, the 15^th of Shvat, the Holiday of the Trees, begins Sundown on Sunday, February 8.  It is remarkable that the rabbis, centuries ago, constructed a Jewish holiday centered on environmental sensitivities.  In Israel, the almond trees are beginning to blossom and around the world Jews seek ways to connect to the bounty of the land.  For some, that may mean eating as many different species of fruit as possible – tradition suggests 15, with preference going to Israel’s 7 species, almonds and carobs; for some it will be planting trees; for some it may be attending a Tu B’Shvat seder.

For me, it will be spending time with my brother in Park City, Utah (the world is too exciting to stay at home – I buy offsets).  I may host a Tu B’Shvat focused meal on the following Shabbat; I may begin to delve into the rich texts of Massekhet HaHammah; I may watch whatever movie is playing at the local arts theater and ski the next morning. 

I ask openly, what is a Jewish environmentalist to do on Tu B’Shvat? (The question is obviously extended to: what is an environmentalist to do on Earth Day?)

If, in fact the Jewish environmental movement has succeeded to support a network of individuals for whom every day is Tu B’Shvat, then does the obligation of tradition still hold?

I have some answers, but today I prefer to end with a question.  Though, I do promise to come back on Tuesday to share with you all how I ended up celebrating Tu B’Shvat, 5769. 

Today, we see the end of the Bush era. We close the curtains over a period where America ruled with an iron fist and sought the best for its political and economic leaders at the expense of the poor, the stranger, the environment and our collective future.

Today, we inaugurate the first Africa American along with a dream for a better future. President Obama built his campaign on the vision that America, through strong leadership and participation of the people, can become a better place. Today, the discourse becomes action.

Today, we are not mere observers. Though we are faced with seemingly insurmountable challenges – war, economic decline, poverty, hunger, disease and global climate change, we made this choice as a nation to join President Obama, take responsibility for the direction of our nation and our personal lives, and create change.

Today, we are forced to put doubt aside, as the unimaginable has already begun to take place. Today we become part of the change we hope to see in the world. Today we say, Yes, We Can.

Itry to live in each moment, embodying the adage “it is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.” As much as I enjoy the journey, ends and beginnings continue to hold greater significance.  We seize the opportunity of new beginnings, and the accompanying clean slate, to create ourselves anew.  On the other end, before we close a chapter of our lives, we have the opportunity to provide final memories for those we are leaving behind. 

President Bush has spent the last few weeks offering us actions with which to remember him by.  Mostly, he is finishing his journey on the same path on which he has journeyed the past eight years.  From infringements on women’s rights to quick sales of our natural resources, there is nothing unexpected or exciting.  But in his last weeks as president of the United States, he has added one more line to his CV –  set aside the world’s largest marine reserve for conservation.  Today, President Bush designated 195,280 square miles (an area larger than the states of Washington and Oregon combined) of islands, reefs, surface waters and sea floor as marine national monuments.  Such designation limits all forms of commercial activity such as fishing and oil exploration.  Bush’s admirable act at the end of his presidential tenure doesn’t clear his reputation as the worst president for the environment, but I hope it won’t go unnoticed, either.

With each dusk, comes a dawn.  President-elect Obama is at the cusp of a new beginning.  It is in these early stages that he has the opportunity to show us his best self.  Through his actions, he will tell us what issues he finds most critical.  His choices for energy and environment cabinet positions represented a strong commitment to environmental action (the environmental community is pleased).  But the real test begins after inauguration.

Since FDR, the first 100 days of office have come to represent the vision and potential of a new president.  It is critical that Obama addresses global climate change in his first 100 days, showing us and the rest of the world that the he will lead the United States and the world in addressing the greatest challenge of our time.

As we await Obama’s first days, we can encourage environmental action by letting his team know that we are watching and waiting. Join us in telling Obama “As a Jew and an American citizen, I urge you to stand fast in making climate change a top priority in the first 100 days of your Administration.”

I fly.  I fly a lot.  There.  I said it, I’ve admitted my problem.  This year has been a crazy year of flying – I averaged close to a flight a month. I had weddings in Los Angeles, Chicago and Israel; my baby nephew and his parents moved out to San Francisco; I had work conferences in various states in the US and delegations abroad.

The problem you ask?

The flights were really expensive.  Not that kind of expensive – many of the flights were frequent flier tickets, gifts or for work, so I didn’t pay very much in dollars.  But those are not the costs I’m referring to.  It’s the costs that don’t come with a dollar sign attached – the environmental externalities. My 11 flights emitted approximately 22 tons of carbon dioxide into our atmosphere.  To put the 22 tons in context, excluding flying, my carbon footprint is an impressive 7 tons (the global average is 5.5).  Including flying, I become worse than the average American (27 tons) [note, you can see those stats after you complete the carbon calculator].

As aware as I am, I don’t regret a single flight.  Because I flew, I danced wildly in celebration, connected regularly with my nephew (and other relatives) and furthered the mission of the Jewish environmental movement.  In the rare occasion that I’m not willing to alter my behavior for the benefit of the environment, what am I to do?

For now, I offset these emissions. Because carbon dioxide is a global pollutant, if I contribute CO₂ here in America and reduce it anywhere else around the world, the net effect on the globe is zero. This is how people become “carbon neutral.” I am not offsetting everything – I generally tread lightly on the earth (through wind power, public transportation and farmers markets) and feel comfortable with emissions that are produced by those actions.

For my work flights, COEJL is offsetting through the Heschel Center’s Good Energy Initiative based in Israel (like this blogger).  One of my cross-country trips was offset through a generous gift from my interns and the rest I’m in the process of offsetting by buying carbon credits sold through the cap and trade programs set up through volunteer and state regulated initiatives in the Chicago Climate Exchange (and if that doesn’t work out, through carbonfund.org).

It’s hard to understand and even harder to calculate the externalities of our actions.  Though the carbon calculator and offset science remains imperfect, it’s a method to take responsibility for our actions.  At this time, it’s the most I can hope to do.

For further information:

A piece by Rabbi Julian Sinclair about the Jewish meaning behind carbon offsetting

I love winter – cold days call for hot chocolate, roaring fires, cozy sweaters and snowball fights.  But the short days get to me. Sunlight, even when it’s 20 degrees, warms me, but leaving the office in the dark hurts. The rabbis must have shared some of this sentiment – I doubt it’s chance that our Festival of Lights, Hanukkah, falls during the darkest days of the year.

This year, the first night of Hanukkah actually falls on the darkest day of the year – the Winter Solstice.  Which is coincidence of course, because the Jewish calendar functions off the lunar cycle, right? True, except for a once-every-twenty-eight year holiday called Birkat HaHammah – Blessing of the Sun.  On this day, the Jewish community celebrates the tradition-based return of the sun to its original place in the heavens at the precise time and day of its creation.  Tradition states that this happens when the Vernal Equinox falls out on a Wednesday morning (for more detail, click here) – rabbinically speaking, the next time this happens is April 8, 2009. 

This year of 5769, it seems too marvelous that the solar occurrences of Winter Solstice and Vernal Equinox are celebrated on the Jewish calendar. In response, COEJL has created a 1^st night of Hanukkah ceremony that acknowledges the wonders and sustenance of the sun.

This year of 2008, it also seems impossible to celebrate the “birth of the sun” without acknowledging its full potential. At a time when we all understand the disastrous consequences of uninhibited fossil fuel consumption (e.g. global warming), along with the incredible fact that the Sun provides Earth with as much energy every hour as human civilization uses every year – Birkat HaHammah must be a time of energy awareness and action. To this effect, a coalition of Jewish groups has come together to make sure this happens.  To read more, go to www.blessthesun.org.

Happy Hanukkah!

p.s. for more Hanukkah tips check out the new Green Gift guide and our CFL Hanukkah campaign.