Parashat Bo
Taking Notice in Our Time
Renewal is possible at every moment.
By Rabbi Shaul Judelman
This
commentary is provided by special arrangement with Canfei Nesharim. Canfei
Nesharim has launched its sixth annual Tu b'Shevat Learning
Campaign to engage communities in learning about protecting the environment
during the Jewish holiday of Tu B'Shevat. Individuals can also plant a
tree in Canfei Nesharim's "virtual forest" to support new Torah and
environment programs. Canfei Nesharim maintains a full resource library of
articles, programs, and suggested actions on their website at www.canfeinesharim.org.
The original Jewish geography, according
to our mystical tradition, has three components--Place, Time, and Soul (Olam, Shanah, and Nefesh).
These are the basic dimensions in which we exist and interact with our world.
Environmental
thought often dwells in the realm of place, as clearly the physical world has
inherent ecological import. Therefore, when we read the Torah for its
environmental wisdom, we usually look for passages relating to land or material
goods.
In the Torah
portion Bo, however, our attention turns to time: "This month will
be to you the head of the months (Exodus 12:2)." An exploration of this unique mitzvah
can reveal profound insights into the Jewish nature of time, and unlock the
secret of how the realm of time is also of deep environmental significance.
The First Mitzvah
The commandment
to mark the month of Nisan is the very first mitzvah given to the Jewish people
as a whole. While still in Egypt the people are commanded to note the month so
that they may prepare to observe the first Passover at the time of the Exodus.
This mitzvah is
so significant that Rashi's first question on the entire Torah (Genesis 1:1)
is: if the Torah is the book of the Jewish people's Divine Law, why doesn't it start with Parashat Bo? We
know that it does not; we go through the whole process of the book of Genesis
before arriving to this place of mitzvah. But what is so crucial about the awareness of the new month that it holds
the significance of being the Torah's first mitzvah?
Conceptions of Time
In some of the
environmental movement's writings on religion, what has been called the
"Judeo-Christian" conception of time as a linear progression comes
under attack. In such a view, history moves towards a culmination of God's
plan--the attainment of an ultimate, eternal good, far beyond that which is
accessible in this world. Herein, we find our "end."
The conception
of time as cyclical is considered primitive, oblivious to the reality of a
final, heavenly Truth. One of the tasks of Jewish environmentalism is to
grapple with this version of religious belief and question whether Judaism
really sees time and nature this way.
We are free to
view time as an unstoppable vector moving towards a pre-determined end. But
what are we to make of the events and processes along the way? Are they really
just means to an end? Certainly not.
Subtle changes
of weather, daylight, and flora signify complex changes in time. When we pay
attention to our actual experience of these changes, we find a dynamic source
of connection with our Creator. Far from being conceived as purely linear, our
Jewish calendar reflects the cyclical nature of the year with a precise system
of holidays and observances connected to each moment and season.
The Jewish Calendar
The beginning of
our year, as proclaimed in the first commandment in Parashat Bo, is the
lynch pin of that connection. The Torah calls Passover "Hag haAviv," the holiday of the
spring, and the Talmudic prescription of the Jewish leap year, implanting an
extra month in the year, is done in order that Passover will indeed always
occur in the spring.
This is a
dramatic statement of environmental consequence. The Sages could have declared
a purely astronomical, lunar-based calendar, but based on the Torah's
prescription, they took steps to ensure that the calendar also reflects the
cycles of nature. This demonstrates Judaism's deep awareness of the Divine
character of nature's processes.
The confluence
of redemption and springtime is no coincidence. Everyone is aware of the
tremendous energy of renewal that occurs in the springtime. The rebirth of
flowers and greenery, the new life in the fields--these are all symbols of our
redemption. Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Lyadi in a teaching about Passover mentions
an anthropocentric view that the renewal of spring actually stems from the
redemption of the Jewish people.
The truth, he
teaches, is that there is no such primacy or causality--the Divine energy that
brings forth the birth of spring in nature is the exact same energy that
brought about the redemption of our people in Egypt. And it is precisely the
return of spring each year that inspires our personal redemption with each
Passover.
Months and Years
The word we receive with the commandment of time is hodesh--month,
or more literally, newness. It is extremely instructive that our word for this
basic time unit implies renewal and revelation, as opposed to a continuation of
the status quo. Even the word for year, shanah, is connected to the word for
change, shinui.
Although we do view history as a march towards an ultimate
Redemption, we are reminded--on Passover, on Rosh Hodesh, on Shabbat, and with
the rising of the sun each day--that the renewal possible at every moment is of
as much significance as the final goal. As we experience the changes of time,
we should be changing and adapting along with them. And as we grow, we cannot
afford to ignore the natural world, or to act in ways that suppress or spoil
the inherent wisdom of God's Creation.
Finding the revelation of God through time happens when we
connect with the Divinity of natural changes. I was once a Shabbat guest in a
very well-to-do synagogue. Many of the people there wore fine watches on their
wrists. But as the third meal of Shabbat winded down, the Rabbi walked outside,
looked up at the sky to count the three stars that mark the end of Shabbat, and
only then gave the call for the evening prayer.
There is
something beautiful in how our tradition's attention to the natural cycles
still impacts us today, how our Jewish practice brings us out of doors to find
our connection with God. Rabbi Menachem Frumin of the Israeli town of Tekoa
once asked, "How can Jews, who are commanded to develop Yirat Shamayim (fear of Heaven), live in
a place where they can't even see the Shamayim(skies)?"
The commandment
of Rosh Hodesh teaches us to continually m'chadesh, renew, our perspectives and relationships, and to
embrace chiddush, innovation, as a
fundamental value of Jewish being. Our belief in time as a source of newness
and opportunity is one of the deep tenets of Judaism that allows for a modern
ethos of change like environmentalism to take root in the daily life of Jewish
people.
Such an
awareness can empower us to make the radical changes that sustainable
lifestyles demand. Realizing that Jewish theology does not write off the
revelation happening within the cycles of time, we are encouraged to engage and
celebrate the changing nature of this world and to find profound and simple
ways for us as Jews to serve God and live responsibly.
Rabbi Shaul
David Judelman spent six years in the Bat Ayin Yeshiva Rabbinical program and
now teaches at Yeshivat Simchat Shlomo while working on several different
environmental initiatives in Jerusalem. He is the founder and coordinator of
Simchat Shlomo's Eco-Activist Beit Midrash,
a program offering holistic in-depth Torah study around issues of ecology.