Jewish Perspectives on the Environment

What is a Jew's obligation to the environment? It is clear that Judaism attributes a degree of sanctity to nature. The opening chapter of Genesis describes God as the creator of the sea, the sky, the earth, and all living creatures that inhabit those spaces. One can read God's observation in Genesis 1:31 that the work was "very good," as do some traditional commentators. Each aspect of nature is good and beautiful in and of itself. But the totality, in all of its intricacies, harmony, and interdependence, is greater than the sum of its parts. It is a miracle in every sense of the word.

That people were introduced into God's world as the final, culminating act of creation suggests a special status for humanity in the world. Genesis 1:28 has people charged with subduing the earth and having dominion over its contents. Some have seen this verse as placing our needs above those of nature. It is clear that at the beginning of human history, people not only had to learn to survive the elements, but they also sought to learn how to use what they found in the world to make their lives more comfortable and enjoyable. But dominion doesn't suggest only "taking advantage," it also implies "responsibility for."

The Talmud teaches that people, to be Godlike, must be partners with God in the act of creation (Shabbat 10a, 119b). What does this mean? It has been suggested that the more human beings feel themselves responsible for the world they inhabit, the greater care they will expend to preserve it. Although God could have created bread, ready to heat, in instead created wheat, from which people had to make bread. Instead of making the earth of bricks, it was made of clay so that people must fashion bricks through their own labor. Thus, people are an integral part of the creative process.

A distinction needs to be made between the idea that "The earth is the Lord's" (Psalm 24:1) and the idea that people have some custodial care of the earth that they inhabit. "The heavens are the heavens of God but the earth he has given to mankind" (Psalm 115:16). As is the case when the owner of something precious entrusts it to another person's care and that person loses or destroys it, there is rarely a second chance. Thus the following lesson from Ecclesiastes Rabbah (7:28):

In the hour when the Holy One, blessed be he created the first man, He took him before all the trees of the Garden of Eden and said: See my works, how fine and excellent they are! Now all that I have created, I created for your benefit. Think upon this and do not corrupt and destroy My world, for if you destroy it, there is no one to restore it after you.

Sefer HaChinuch adresses the same concept by saying:

The purpose of a mitzvah, as is well known, is to train our souls to love the good and that which is creative and useful and to refrain from all that which is destructive. The way of the righteous and men of good deeds is to love peace and take pleasure in the welfare of their fellow man and draw them closer to the Torah. They would not wantonly destroy even a mustard seed. They are grieved and oppressed at the sight of waste and destruction. If they could save anything from being destroyed they would do so with all their power. The wicked are not so. They are the brethren of all despoilers. They are happy in destroying themselves. (Sefer HaChinuch, 529).

Two unique institutions in Judaism also illustrate the value of preserving the environment-the shabbat and the sabbatical year. As much as Judaism encourages human beings to take upon themselves the task to refashion the world and, through our own ingenuity and technology, make it our own, the shabbat comes to remind us that the earth really is "the Lord's." We spend an entire week trying to master the world and subdue it. In the process we become aggressive, greedy, and callous to the delicate ecological balance of nature. The commandment to set aside one day a week on which to live in harmony with God's world instead of trying to bend it to suit our whims, comfort and profit, is a way to help us get our priorities straight. The most precious things in life are not made by people but made by God. The same technology that might make life so much more enjoyable and convenient can also imprison us and allow us to lose sight of that which we truly need to value.

With regard to the sabbatical year, we read in Leviticus, Chapter 25:1-5:

When you enter the land that I give you, the land shall observe a sabbath of the Lord. Six years you may sow your field and six years you may prune your vineyard and gather in the yield. But in the seventh year the land shall have a sabbath of complete rest for the land.

In commenting on this passage, Sefer HaChinuch says:

The purpose of this Commandment is God's desire that this people know that everything is His; and that in the end, everything He wanted to give in the beginning returns to Him, for the earth is His. This matter of Jubilee is a bit like the practice of mortal kings who from time to time take land belonging to the fortified cities of their nobles, to remind them to fear their master. Likewise, God wants all land returned to the person who received it as a portion from Him. (Behar #330)

Most of us do not have the scientific knowledge to understand just how extensively our cars pollute the air, our factories' wastes pollute our rivers, or the extent to which our society now produces toxic wastes without safe means of disposal. Nor do we possess the ability ourselves to rectify these situations. However, if we take seriously the Jewish perspective that the environment is a precious and sacred commodity, then we can educate ourselves and our elected representatives about the need for prudent public policies that will assure future generations a livable earth.

 

This article was previously published in 1999 in a teaching unit for PANIM: The Institute for Jewish Leadership and Values and was underwritten by The Mazal Family Foundation.