By Jonathan Helfand

"The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof." (Psalm 24:1)

"The heavens are the Lord's heavens, but the earth he has given to mankind." (Psalm 115:16)

The apparent contradiction between these two biblical verses troubled Jewish sages over a thousand years ago, and modern society still seems to be plagued by the dilemma they embody: to whom does the earth really belong and what are the consequences of holding such title?

For the past century and more, Western man has acted as master and lord of his environment, paying no heed to the effects of his actions on the environment. In the name of progress, water, land, air, and the wildlife they support have been despoiled and depleted, perhaps beyond reclaim, and in a manner unmatched in the annals of human history. Not all society was blind to this devastation. The outrage over man's rapaciousness, the demands for the protection and preservation of the environment, became more vocal and vehement as the corruption of nature grew in scope. Attacking this destructiveness, environmentalists sought to discover a cause for it, much as others had sought an excuse. For some, the nemesis of modern man turned out to be the biblical tradition itself.

The argument of these environmentalists was as follows. The pollution of the environment associated with the advance of the industrial revolution and the recklessly extravagant consumption of nature's irreplaceable treasures could all be traced to one cause: the rise of monotheism. The doctrine that placed one God above nature removed the restraints placed on primitive man by his belief that the environment itself was divine. Monotheistic man's impulses were no longer restrained by a pious worship of nature, and the God of Genesis told man to subdue and master the earth, proclaiming man's dominion over the natural world.¹ This approach is baseless, however: in both content and spirit the Jewish tradition negates the arrogant proposal that the earth is man's unqualified dominion.

In presenting a Jewish theology of the environment, I draw on three types of sources: halakhah, aggadah, and tefillah. Halakhoh, from the verb meaning "to go," refers figuratively to the rules and statutes by which one is guided. It includes not only the Jewish scriptures, but also their traditional interpretation in the literature of the "Oral Law"-the Mishnah, Talmud, commentaries, codes, and responsa.² Aggadah, from the verb meaning "to tell," describes the vast nonjuristic literature, including biblical exegesis, homilies, parables, and proverbs, whose aim is religious and moral instruction and edification.³ Finally, tefillah is prayer or liturgy. In his seminal work on Judaism in the early Christian era, George Foote Moore observed that "the true nature of a religion is most clearly revealed by what men seek from God in it. The public and private prayers of the Jews thus show not only what they esteemed the best and most satisfying goods, but their beliefs about the character of God and his relation to them, and their responsive feelings toward Him."⁴ Tefillah also has a didactic dimension. Rooted in the halakhic and aggadic traditions, it embodies their spirit and can be a vehicle for educating the worshipper. Indeed, the verb for prayer, hitpalel, is in the reflexive mode, as if in praying the worshipper is also addressing himself.⁵ While the first source, halakhah, is the obvious guide in practical issues, as aggadah and tefillah sensitize man, they too offer important guidance and direction in establishing the outlines of a Jewish theology of the environment.

In formulating such a theology, three primary questions must be addressed: To whom does the world belong? What is the plan or purpose of creation? What are the practical consequences of the answers to the above questions? Does the tradition translate the theological dimension into reality? If so, how?

The argument that the Bible gave man dominion over nature and with it license to destroy at will, is based on the story of creation. Specifically, it relates to God's placing all of creation in Adam's hands with the directive to "master it" (Genesis 1:28-30). In the same narrative, however, it is apparent that man was not given a license to destroy at will (Genesis 2: 15). To the contrary, God never fully relinquishes dominion over the world. In promulgating the laws of the sabbatical year (Leviticus 25:23), he reasserts his proprietorship over creation, stating, "The land is mine."

This principle of divine ownership of nature is enunciated in the halakhah and is the basis for several categories of liturgical blessings. According to the Tosefta, "Man may not taste anything until he has recited a blessing, as it is written ‘The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof’ (Psalm 24:1). Anyone who derives benefit from this world without a (prior) blessing is guilty of misappropriating sacred property." ⁶ The list of blessings based on this concept includes numerous specialized and general blessings recited on comestibles and a host of rules and regulations regarding their application and priorities.

For example, there are specialized blessings for bread ("Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the universe, who bringest foyth bread from the earth"), for fruit that grows on trees ("Blessed art Thou ... who createst the fruit of the tree"), for fruit that grows in the soil ("Blessed art Thou . . . who createst the fruit of the earth), and for nongrowing comestibles (Blessed art Thou ... by whose words all things come into being). In addition, Jewish law prescribes various blessings upon observing or enjoying natural phenomena, for example, smelling spices, seeing the wonders of nature, seeing an electrical storm, seeing a rainbow. In all these instances man speaks not as the master of nature, but by the grace and goodness of God, as its beneficiary.⁷

The sense that man partakes in a world that is not exclusively his receives expression in an aggadic interpretation of the phrase "yumat ha-met" (Deuteronomy 17:6) --literally, "let the dead one be killed." The implied question, of course, is, How can a person be dead before he is executed? The Midrash Tanhuma explains: "An evil person is considered dead, for he sees the sun shining and does not bless 'the Creator of light' (from the morning prayer); he sees the sun setting and does not bless 'him who brings on the evening' (from the evening prayer); he eats and drinks and offers no blessings."⁸ Thus, while man is placed on the earth to "master it," he does so in the Jewish tradition as a bailee, responsible and answerable to the will of his Master and obliged to acknowledge God’s proprietorship at all times.

The fact that God is Creator endows all of creation with an intrinsic significance and importance. The Talmud observes: "Of all that the Holy One Blessed be He created in His world, He created nothing in vain [superfluous]."⁹ Nothing in creation is useless or expendable; everything manifests some divine purpose. It follows, therefore, that there is a divine interest in maintaining the natural order of the universe.

Several expressions of this theme are to be found in conjunction with the laws of hybridization and mingling (kilayim). "My statutes you shall keep; you shall not let your cattle mate with a different kind, you shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed, you shall not wear a garment of wool and linen" (Leviticus 19: 19). The context within which this law is recorded is of special importance-it is posed between the command to love one's neighbor and laws about forbidden conjugal relations. The laws that surround our text deal with the social order while the laws of crossbreeding deal with the natural order. From their juxtaposition it seems clear that all are part of a broader concern of the Bible to maintain the order of the world-natural and social-as created and envisioned by God.

An exegetical passage in the Palestinian Talmud epitomizes this teaching. Commenting on the opening phrase in this verse, "my statutes you shall keep," the rabbis define these statutes as "hukkot she-hakakti be-olami," "the statutes that I have legislated in my world"; that is, you may not disturb or disrupt the natural law."¹⁰

This theme is developed further in a thirteenth-century study of the commandments called Sefer Ha-hinukh. Explaining the roots of this commandment against "mingling," the author says: "the Holy One created this world with wisdom, knowledge, and understanding and formed all creatures in accordance with their needs … He commanded each species to reproduce according to its kind … and not to have species intermingle, lest something be lacking in them and His blessings no longer apply to them." ¹¹ Man was therefore enjoined from undermining the work of creation by engaging in acts of hybridization or intermingling. Similarly, the Sefer Ha-hinukh explains the injunction against sorcery: "Therefore we were commanded to remove from the world anyone who attempts this [sorcery], for he goes against the wishes of God who desires the settling [of the world] in the natural order that was set from creation and this [sorcerer] comes to change everything."¹²

Judaism's concern with the violation or distortion of nature is demonstrated in a Talmudic tale. A poor man's wife died in childbirth and he could not afford to hire a wet nurse. A miracle occurred and he developed breasts and suckled the child himself. Upon hearing this, Rav Yosef commented: "Come and see how great is this man that such a miracle was performed for him." To which his colleague Abaye retorted: "On the contrary, how lowly is this man that the orders of creation were changed on his account."¹³ WhiIe undoubtedly sharing Rav Yosef's concern for the wellbeing of the infant, Abaye simply could not countenance such an unthinkable violation of the rules of nature.

Judaism's genuine concern for maintaining what the rabbis called sidrei bereshit-the orders of creation, the plan and intent of the Creator, is expressed in several ways. juridically we may distinguish two categories: first, injunctions against the despoliation of nature and natural resources and, second, legal imperatives regarding the development and conservation of the God-given environment.

Bal tashhit. The Bible (Deuteronomy 20:19) forbids the destruction of trees by an army besieging an enemy city. In the halakhah this biblical injunction-known as bal tashhit (you shall not wantonly destroy)-has been expanded to form a protective legal umbrella encompassing almost the entire realm of ecological concerns. These extensions affect three aspects of the law of bal tashhit: the situation, the object, and the method of destruction.¹⁴

While literally the Bible applies bal tashhit only to military tactics, the commentaries observe that the choice of this situation was pot intended to limit its applicability; the Bible simply stated the most likely situation in which such destruction might occur.¹⁵ The Talmud applies bal tashhit to numerous nonmilitary situations. Maimonides, in his eleventh-century code, declares: "This penalty [flogging, thepunishment imposed for violating this biblical rule] is imposed not only for cutting it down during a siege; whenever a fruit-yielding tree is cut down with destructive intent, flogging is incurred.¹⁶

The halakhah extends the compass of bal tashhit with regard to the object destroyed, as well. Not only trees but "all things" are included by the Talmud under this rubric.¹⁷ Specifically, the Talmud mentions the destruction of food clothing, furniture, and even water as being in violation of bal tashhit.¹⁸ The nineteenth-century code of Shneour Zalman of Ladi sums up the consensus of Jewish legal opinion, when he rules that "the spoiler of all objects from which man may benefit violates this negative commandment, [bal tashhit]."¹⁹ Similarly, the halakhah extends the jurisdiction of bal tashhit to include indirect and partial destruction as violations of this principle.²⁰

The ethical implications of this analysis are clear. Man bears the responsibility for the destruction --complete or incomplete, direct or indirect-- of all objects that may be of potential benefit or use to mankind. As part of the divine plan of creation himself, man has the obligation to respect his inanimate and animate counterparts in the world.

Endangered species. Jewish tradition also addresses itself to the problem of the endangered species. An aggadah in the Talmud recreates the scene from the ark and has the raven rebuke Noah, saying: "You must hate me, for you did not choose [to send a scout] from the species of which there are seven (that is, the clean birds of which Noah was commanded to take seven pairs), but from a species of which there are only two. If the power of the sun or the power of the cold overwhelm me, would not the world be lacking a species?"²¹ This concern over the destruction of a species is also invoked by the medieval commentator Nahmanides to explain the biblical injunction against slaughtering a cow and her calf on the same day (Leviticus 22:28) and the taking of a bird with her young (Deuteronomy 22:6). "Scripture will not permit a destructive act that will cause the extinction of a species, even though it has permitted the ritual slaughtering of that species (for food). And he who kills mother and sons in one day, or takes them while they are free to fly away, is considered as if he destroyed that species."²² The Sefer Ha-hinukh offers a similar explanation, stating that there is divine providence for each species and that God desires them to be perpetuated.²³

This theoretical sensitivity for animal life is translated into popular custom in a most touching manner. According to custom, a person wearing new attire is blessed: "May they wear out and may they be renewed (that is, may you get new ones)." According to some authorities, this is not to be recited in the case of shoes or other garments made from animal skins since, by implication, it calls for the killing of yet another animal.²⁴

Thus far, we have seen how Jewish tradition views the environment as God's domain and enjoins man from upsetting the sidrei bereshit (order of creation). There exists another dimension to man's relationship to the universe: his role as creator, as extender of sidrei bereshit.

Several ordinances regulating Jewish life in ancient Israel offer further guidance to our study and introduce a principle of fundamental importance to our topic: yishuv ha-aretz ("the settling of the land"). The Mishnah states: "One may not raise goats or sheep in the land of Israel because by grazing they defoliate property and thereby interfere with the process of yishuv ha-aretz.²⁵ The same legal principle is invoked by the Mishnah in ruling that "all trees are suited for piling on the altar except for the vine and olive tree." ²⁶ Since these trees represented the principal products of Israel, the rabbis feared that permitting their use on the altar might lead to the decimation of the groves and vineyards and irreparably damage the Holy Land.²⁷ The operative principle in these two cases, yishuv ha-aretz, calls upon the Jew in his homeland to balance the economic, environmental, and even religious needs of society carefully to assure the proper development and settling of the land.²⁸ In its active mode it demands that specific actions be taken to promote the maintenance and conservation of the natural environment.

The Jewish Scriptures mandate the establishment of a migrash, an open space one thousand cubits wide around the Levitical cities, to be maintained free of all construction and cultivation.²⁹ According to Maimonides, this applied to all cities in Israel.³⁰  The reason, as explained by the eleventh century commentator Rashi, is that the open space is an amenity to the City.³¹  The need for such a provision is ultimately based upon the principle of yishuv ha-aretz.³² The implication in this and in other such cases is that yishuv haretz requires man to consider the consequences of his creative activities in the world, not merely to clear stones and build cities or to avoid acts of wanton destruction but to maintain a proper balance in the environment, providing the necessary amenities while insuring the mutual security of society and nature.

A striking example of this principle in action may be found in the fourteenth - century code of Jacob ben Asher, known as the Tur. In discussing the "rights of preemption" that a farmer has in his neighbor's property, the Tur notes that these rights are suspended if the purchaser acquired the land for the purpose of building a house and the owner of the adjacent field wants the land for sowing, since there is a greater yishuv ha-olam (settlement of the world) accomplished by building houses than by sowing. However, if the neighbor wishes to plant trees, he can remove the purchaser, since trees are more important for yishuv ha-olam than houses.³³

An important change has been made in this last case. In explaining the law the Tur employs the term yishuv ha-olam (settlement of the world) instead of yishuv ha-aretz (settling the land' of Israel), thereby extending the concept and its legal application beyond the borders of the land of Israel.³⁴ Nor is Rabbi Jacob ben Asher the only authority to do so. For example, the, eighteenth-century scholar Rabbi Jacob Emden applied the concept of yishuv ha-aretz to a situation arising in Germany, concluding that even in cases where a destructive act is for sacred purposes and therefore not in violation of bal tashhit, considerations of yishuv ha-aretz, man’s obligation to equitably and ethically continue the process of "settling the world," may render it illegal.³⁵

The aforementioned cases are a far cry from the carte blanche desired by some environmentalists in their struggle to protect our natural resources. They do not offer unquestioning protection to the natural environment; nor do they offer an immutable schedule of priorities to guide the actions of man. They do, however, enunciate an important legal and moral principle: the environment, like man, has certain unalienable rights, and these rights are endowed to it by the Creator-and, as a result, they may not be summarily dismissed or violated. It is the obligation of society to respect and protect these rights with the same procedures, institutions, and legislative initiatives that are employed to guarantee and protect the rights of man. And even if it, at times, must be done (as in the case of the Tur) at the expense of personal privileges and individual rights.

While nature has indeed been, to use Weber's term, "disenchanted" by the biblical creation epic, it is wrong to conclude that by releasing man from primitive constraints monotheism has given him license or incentive to destroy. In the Jewish tradition nature may be disenchanted, but never "despiritualized." For Judaism nature serves as a guide and inspiration. "Bless the Lord, 0 my soul," cries out the Psalmist as he views the heaven and earth and the wonders of creation. "How great are Thy works, 0 Lord; in wisdom You have made them all; the earth is full of your possessions" (Psalm 104:1, 24). Even a cursory glance at the daily prayer book reveals the depth to which the Jew must be stirred by nature and recognize in it a profound manifestation of God. The legal and ethical imperatives to preserve and conserve the environment are highlighted as the daily liturgy begins with a blessing for the rooster who distinguishes between day and night. The following blessings and Psalms to God as Creator offer in nature a spiritual sustenance for man's faith.³⁶

Similarly, the pilgrimage festivals ordained by the Bible do not just celebrate historic events but mark the agricultural cycle-spring, first fruits, harvest-even for the child who has never seen an orchard or walked in a field of grain. The prayers for dew and rain recited on Passover and Tabernacles respectively alert man to the needs of nature and to his own dependence on the vagaries of rain, wind, and sun.

Thus, even in the midst of the concrete urban setting, prayer and ritual keep man in touch with nature, teach him to revere nature, and heighten his sense of dependence on nature. Suffused with the spirit of the Psalms, he comes to view nature as a living testimony to a living God. Says the Talmud: "H~ who goes out in the spring and views the trees in bloom must recite, "Blessed is He who left nothing lacking in His world and created beautiful creatures and beautiful trees for mankind to glorify in."³⁷ Praying man admires, praises, and is inspired by nature; how can he wantonly destroy it?

The Talmud tells the story of a farmer who was clearing stones from his field and throwing them onto a public thoroughfare. A hasid (pious man) rebuked him, saying, "Worthless one! Why are you clearing stones from land which is not yours -and depositing them on property which is yours?" The farmer scoffed at him for this strange reversal of the facts. In the course of time the farmer had to sell his field, and as he was walking on the public road, he fell on those same stones he had thoughtlessly deposited there. He then understood the truth of the hasid's words: the damage he had wrought in the public domain was ultimately damage to his own property and well-being.³⁸

Modern man, like the ancient farmer of our parable, suffers from self-inflicted wounds. The reason for his suffering is perhaps best analyzed by the rabbis in the following passage from Ethics of the Fathers (a tractate of the Mishnah). "Ha-kin'ah ve-ha-ta'avah ve-ha-kavod motzi'in et ha-adam min ha-olam."³⁹ Jealousy, desire, and pursuit of glory remove man from this world. Or, in the modern idiom, keeping up with the Joneses, impulse control breakdown, and ego tripping-these are at the root of man's estrangement from nature. In this aphorism and in countless other sources, Judaism calls upon man to control his appetites and respect the rights of others. In the final analysis, this is perhaps the key to all of conservation ethics.

1. Arnold Toynbee, "The Genesis of Pollution," New York Times, 16 September 1973, sec. 4. This essay was based on an article that appeared in Horizon Magazine at that time.

2. For an excellent sketch of the literature of the halakhah, see David M. Feldman, Marital Relations, Birth Control, and Abortion in Jewish Law (New York: Schocken Books, 1974), PP. 3-18.

3. George Foote Moore, Judaism in the First Centuries of the Christian Era (New York: Schocken Books, 1971), 1:161-63.

4. Ibid., 2:212.

5. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch in his commentary to Psalms 5:3 and 32:6 emphasizes that the process of prayer entails self-cognition on the part of the worshipper.

6. Tosefta, Berakhot 4:1

7. Philip Birnbaum, ed., Daily Prayer Book (New York: Hebrew Publishers, 1977), PP. 773-75.

8. Tanhuma, Berakha, sec. 7. This theme is particularly stressed in the liturgy for New Year's Day, which, according to tradition, is not only the Day of judgment, but also the anniversary of creation.

9. Shabbat, 77b.

10. Kilayim, 1:7. Cf. the tana'itic midrash to Leviticus, Sifra.

11. Sefer Ha-hinukh, no. 244. Maimonides, recognizing the source of this law in the "natural order," rules that this prohibition applies to gentiles as well in the cases of grafting and interbreeding. "Laws of Kings," Mishneh Torah, 10:6.

12. Sefer Ha-hinukh, no. 62.

13. Shabbat, 53b.

14. For a detailed discussion of these laws, see "Bal tashhit," Encyclopedia Talmudit (Jerusalem, 1963), 3:335-37. Also See Jonathan 1. Helfand, "Ecology and the Jewish Tradition," Judaism 20 (1971): 331-33.

15. See, for example, the commentary Da'at Zekenim mi-ba'alei Ha-tosefot to Deuteronomy 20: 19.

16. "Laws of Kings," Mishneh Torah 6:8. See also the Kesef Mishneh (commentary to Maimonidcs' code): Sefer Mitzvot Godol [=SeMaG], negative commandment no. 229; and Rabbi David Kimhi's commentary to 2 Kings 3:19.

17. Bava Kama, 91b. Some commentaries, however, interpret it as meaning "all trees."

18. Shabbit, 140b; Kiddushin, 32a; Shabbit, 129a; Yevamot, 11b. In the latter case the text reads: "A man should not pour the water out of his cistern while others may require it." The SeMaG interprets this as being based on the law of bal tashhit. On the question of the pollution of water resources, see Nahum Rackover, "Protection of the Environment in Hebrew Sources" [in Hebrew], Dine Yisrael 4 (197 3): 18- 19.

19. Hilkhot Shmirat ha-guf ve-nefesh," Shulhan Arukh Ha-rav, par. 14.

20. The Sifri (a tana'itic midrash) to Deut. 20: 19 includes the cutting off of water supplies to trees as a violation of the rule. See also Maimonides, "Law of Kings," Mishneh Torah 6:8. Incomplete destruction is cited by the Talmud in Kiddushin, 32a (see Rash i) and Bava Kama, 91b.

21. Sanhedrin 108b.

22. Nahmanides, commentary to Deuteronomy 22:6. See also his comments in Leviticus 19: 19 on the laws of kilayim: "He who mixes kinds denies and confounds the act of creation." These comments contrast with and undoubtedly modify his strong statements in Genesis 1:26, 28 regarding man's mastery over creation.

23. Sefer Ha-hinukh, nos. 294, 545.

24. Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim, 233:6. On the Jewish attitude toward hunting and killing for sport, see Sidney B. Hoenig, "The Sport of Hunting: A Humane Game?" Tradition 11, no. 3 (1970): 13-21.

25. Bava Kama, 79b and Rashi.

26. Mishnah Tamid, 2:3.

27. Tamid, 29b; Maimonides, "Laws of Things Banned from the Altar," Mishneh Torah, 7:3.

28. This principle is also invoked in numerous other instances. For a review of this literature, see the Encyclopedia Talmudit (Jerusalem, 1956), 2:225-26.

29. Numbers 35:2-5.

30. "Laws of Sabbatical and jubilee Years," Mishneh Torah, 13:5

31. See the commentary of Rashi to Numbers 3 5:2 and to Arakhin, 33b.

32. Encyclopedia Talmudit, 2:226.

33. Tur Hosen Mishpat, par. 175 (based on Bava Metzi'ah, folio 108b).

34. Ibid. See Bet Yosef (commentary of Rabbi Joseph Karo), no. 43, and the comments of Prishah to this paragraph in the Tur.

35. She’ilat Ya’avetz, pt. I, responsum 76.

36. Birnbaum, Daily Prayer Book, pp. 15, 51ff

37. Berakhot, 43a.

38. Tosefta, Bava Kama, 10:2. Cf. Bava Kama, 50b.

39. Pirke Avot, 4:21.