Dear Friends,
The land needs to be taken care of, as much as do we.
Note in this week’s Torah portion: “When you enter the land that I am giving you, let the land observe a Sabbath in honor of the Eternal One. Six years you shall sow your field… but in the seventh year there shall be a Sabbath of complete rest for the land… you shall proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants.” (Lev. 25: 2-10)
How much we look forward to that afternoon nap on Shabbat, or the evening to flop down in front of the television, or the hour to curl up with a good book.
And, it appears that our land, as well, similarly yearns for the same rest and respite from its hard work. Year after year, it is subject to harsh winds, beating sun, deluging rains – or incessant draught, and it continues to be the substrate for plants to grow, minerals to sustain, and animals to tread. It offers, perhaps reluctantly, its mountains to be mined and its rivers to be diverted, all while it is used and often abused for human use, as well.
Yet, Torah seemed to know this, millennia ago. Leviticus charged that every seventh year, and then on every 50th year (7 X 7 + 1), the inhabitants of the land of Israel were to leave the land fallow and let it rest. It earned a Shabbat every seventh year, just as the people did every seventh day. One was not to plow or plant, reap or trim. One could only eat from the growth which came up direct or, as a friend in California called it, “volunteer.” If a tomato plant yielded fruit, without being tended, one could consume that fruit.
It is vital that we take notice of the effects of such demanding work on our environment. We are becoming more and more cognizant of the ramifications of industrialization as our global climate is warming. Yet, are we just as aware of the little impacts in our own corner of the world…when land is paved, wetlands are built into subdivisions, highways divide forests. Yes, these matters have been consigned to building departments and coding considerations, yet Torah asks us this week to take another look: to give it a rest and to let the earth be quiet.
Especially, this is the seventh year, and in Israel, some farmers are heeding these Torah dictates. We salute them. The earth salutes them, too!
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
The land needs to be taken care of, as much as do we.
Note in this week’s Torah portion: “When you enter the land that I am giving you, let the land observe a Sabbath in honor of the Eternal One. Six years you shall sow your field… but in the seventh year there shall be a Sabbath of complete rest for the land… you shall proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants.” (Lev. 25: 2-10)
How much we look forward to that afternoon nap on Shabbat, or the evening to flop down in front of the television, or the hour to curl up with a good book.
And, it appears that our land, as well, similarly yearns for the same rest and respite from its hard work. Year after year, it is subject to harsh winds, beating sun, deluging rains – or incessant draught, and it continues to be the substrate for plants to grow, minerals to sustain, and animals to tread. It offers, perhaps reluctantly, its mountains to be mined and its rivers to be diverted, all while it is used and often abused for human use, as well.
Yet, Torah seemed to know this, millennia ago. Leviticus charged that every seventh year, and then on every 50th year (7 X 7 + 1), the inhabitants of the land of Israel were to leave the land fallow and let it rest. It earned a Shabbat every seventh year, just as the people did every seventh day. One was not to plow or plant, reap or trim. One could only eat from the growth which came up direct or, as a friend in California called it, “volunteer.” If a tomato plant yielded fruit, without being tended, one could consume that fruit.
It is vital that we take notice of the effects of such demanding work on our environment. We are becoming more and more cognizant of the ramifications of industrialization as our global climate is warming. Yet, are we just as aware of the little impacts in our own corner of the world…when land is paved, wetlands are built into subdivisions, highways divide forests. Yes, these matters have been consigned to building departments and coding considerations, yet Torah asks us this week to take another look: to give it a rest and to let the earth be quiet.
Especially, this is the seventh year, and in Israel, some farmers are heeding these Torah dictates. We salute them. The earth salutes them, too!
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Douglas Kohn