To Till and to Tend

My cousin mentioned that at her minyan, Lomdim in Chicago, they showed The Gleaners and I on Shavuot, thematically tying in the activity of Ruth to contemporary behaviors.  Gleaning is the biblical precept of leaving the corners of the fields unharvested so that the poor can collect grain for their sustenance.  In contemporary times, there is still a gleaning movement.  The Society of Saint Andrew is dedicated towards salvaging crops for the hungry, accomplishing two mitzvot at once: feeding the hungry and avoiding waste, bal tashit. 
In urban contexts, there are many food salvage programs that help feed the hungry, like Second Harvest and our local Philabundance.  Another trend developing, is called Freganism.  Fregans dumpster dive and trashpick as a life style, calling attention to the astronomically wasteful American lifestyle.  Generally fregans have opted out of a high consumption lifestyle and, not being homeless, are a different demographic than people who live on the streets.
The Internet iscleverly utilized to match givers and gleaners.  My personal favorite is freecycle.org – there are thousands of local freecycle groups where folks go daily to offer and request items.  My latest give-away was two bird-feeders that were attracting more squirrels the feathers; my next request is lined 3-hole paper.  Most households have a lot of that sitting around at the end of the school year!
Many freecyle(TM) participants post things we see on the street, dubbed “Curb Alerts”.  Much akin to gleaning, people leave items up for grab on the corners of their driveways.  One question which comes up on Freecycle lists is whether it’s ok for people to resell items claimed via Freecycle, on Ebay or at flea markets.  I say that’s great.  It’s helping people to earn income, keeps things out of the waste stream, and since the donor was obviously too lazy to bother, the reseller is offering an environmental service.  Craigs List also has a large section of free items. 
Whether you glean out of ideological conviction, for sport, or from need, it is an ancient and wonderful system!

Describing old-fashioned normal utensils – silverware, plates, glasses – as “reusables” does tell us something about our material culture.  Last week I wrote about my minyan’s low-tech efforts to be more sustainable, buying kiddush glasses and plates and creating a volunteer rotation for washing them.  Nevei Kodesh in Boulder, Colorado, shares that they purchased metal “sauce cups” which are very distinctive, non-breakable, and easy to clean.  They cost less than $1 a cup in bulk. 
There is a third way between “washables” and disposables, and that’s compostables, a product with expanding choices, some of which are pictured.  They are more expensive that petroleum based plastics, but are made from vegetable products, so they decompose.  Fortunately they don’t decompose when you use them; they take a month or so to accomplish this task.  Their first major advantage over conventional plastic is that they are manufactured from a renewable source.  Their second advantage is that they decompose, but of course this advantage is only achieved if a community actually composts.  Throwing them in the garbage, as a friend reported was the norm in an eco-concerned, non-composting institution where she works, only addresses half of the environmental equation.  Throwing compostables in a landfill has no environmental virtue, since they won’t break down.
If there’s no on-site composting, one solution is to collect the compostables and find a volunteer who does compost and is willing to take them.  (Of course starting a composting system at the synagogue is an even better idea.)
While this is all important, both actually and symbolically, we are missing the forest for the trees here.  One commenter points out that the carbon footprint of driving to shul is bigger than the kiddush cup.  So the real campaign is to encourage folks to walk, carpool, or take public transit to synagogue.  Here are the numbers provided by our commenter who didn’t include a name, unfortunately:

The analysis below was done for Congregation Tifereth Israel . We have 320 member units, a 57,000 sqft 60 year old building. While the numbers are specific to us, the should hold in general for other congregations. [it looks like there are 0 added heating costs in winter; I would question that, but that's a minor point]

I have made some rough estimates on the energy cost of a typical Shabbat, and translated them into pounds of carbon dioxide (lbs CO2).

Extra building heating costs winter — minimal
Summer cooling for the sanctuary 600 lbs CO2

6 lbs of plastic plates and utensils. — 30 lbs CO2
1 pound of unrecycled aluminum pans 25 lbs CO2

A typical car emits about 1lb CO2 per mile (Prius owners stop smirking ).
I estimate that on each Shabbat about 70 cars travel 14 round-trip miles to take us to the service. -1000 lbs CO2

Summary. We can recycle the aluminum pans, wash dishes instead of using disposables — but these are are semi-symbolic. If we want to do something that counts, carpool, walk or bicycle to Shabbat service. Maybe we can teledaven?

So let’s brainstorm about the transport of the dovveners.  Orthodox congregations win the prize here, big time, for zero to very light Kehillah-wide carbon foot prints on shabbos.  In the liberal world, what can we do to promote less driving, especially in the face of inaccessible suburban synagogue locations ?  I have only heard of one synagogue policy which addresses this, at Adat Shalom in Rockville, MD.  They are short on parking, so hybrids get parking spot preference.  Please share any ideas or policies!

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.

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….

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 breastfeeding 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 breastmilk. 

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

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!