Sukkot First Morning: Judaism and Environmentalism: An Obvious Sermon

(Delivered by Rabbi Sacks on October 10, 2022)

Chag Samei-ach I’m Rabbi Obvious, and this morning I’d like to give an obvious sermon. A sermon is a speech in which a rabbi tells people what they already know. Do I really have to tell you to love your neighbor as yourself or to support Israel or that Jewish holidays are interesting and each convey a distinct and important theme? Rabbis give sermons in synagogue on Shabbat and holidays and any other time they have an audience. Some people don’t like being preached to–but rabbis keep doing it anyway because that’s what they get paid for.

Most sermons are pretty obvious, because if they weren’t, no one would listen. And if the sermon was controversial people would probably walk out of shul–which is, obviously, never a good thing for a shul or a rabbi!

This morning I’d like to talk about the environment. You know, that’s all the stuff outside: the air, the land, the water, the plants, the trees–all that stuff that makes the world livable. If we didn’t have an environment where would we live? But if the environment is polluted–it becomes an unpleasant place to be. But you knew that already, didn’t you?

So why talk about the environment? Because today is Sukkot, and Sukkot is an agricultural celebration, and agriculture is all about our environment! This is the one time of year we leave the comfort of our homes to go outdoors and dwell in flimsy shacks called a sukkah. Some people think that a sukkah is the type of temporary dwelling in which our ancestors lived during their sojourn in the wilderness. There are no hotels or settlements in the wilderness. Thus we build a sukkah. The Bible tells us this: “So that future generations may know that I caused you to dwell in booths.”

But there is nothing obvious about this. You can’t build a sukkah in the desert! After all, there are no trees in the desert! So where did our ancestors get wood or branches from–the local hardware store? How could they build a sukkah every time they stopped to camp?

I’d like to tell you the more obvious reason why we dwell in booths. Booths are a reminder of the harvest season. Our ancestors who were farmers used to build booths in the field when they were harvesting their crops so they had a place to rest in the heat of the afternoon. Do you know what a sukkah provides? That’s right–shade and shelter! You can still see sukkot in the fields of the Middle East so workers can have a place for shade and shelter when they need it during the harvest.

Now, when we sit in a sukkah we learn some obvious lessons.

First, human beings need shelter.

Second, we learn that we live in the world; we are part of the environment and not separate from it. When it rains we get wet. And when the wind blows hard enough roofs blow off. Walls cannot protect us from the environment.

And third, we learn that even if we have a nice big and secure house we need to be aware of the blessings of God’s world.

But you knew that already, right?

Why am I telling you all these obvious insights? I am telling you because apparently, they are not as obvious as they may first seem.

We human beings don’t appreciate the world in which we live. Little by little we are destroying our own planet. We consume too much, we waste too much, and we are indifferent to the needs of the world around us. We take what we need, and we do little to put anything back into our environment.

The world around us is deteriorating and we don’t seem to be at all aware of it. The oceans are steadily rising on the east coast, and the west coast is suffering from debilitating droughts. Each year there are more and more environmental crises taking place that cost lives and many billions of dollars. The world’s animal life is also being destroyed. On a yearly basis the rapid loss of species we are seeing today is estimated by experts to be between 1,000 and 10,000 times higher than the natural extinction rate.

The science is clear. When it comes to the loss of species:

• Humans are responsible for 99% of the endangered species.
• The current extinction rate is over 12 species every day
• 30%-50% of all animals will be extinct in the next 30 years

As to our air:

• Over 7 million people die each year due to air pollution.
• Over 91% of people in the world breathe bad air–air that’s not within the safety guidelines of the World Health Organization.

As for water sources and water quality:

• It is estimated that oceans have over 5.25 trillion pieces of plastic debris.
• Plastic kills over 1 million seabirds each year.
• 63 million people in the United States do not have access to clean water.
• Two million tons of agricultural, industrial and sewage waste gets released into our water EVERY DAY.
• Mines in the United States pollute 50 million gallons of water daily.

Isn’t it obvious that we need to change something if there is going to be a world for our grandchildren and great-grandchildren?

G!d understood this. G!d created the prototype for a human, G!d labeled it “Adam,” from the word adamah, meaning “earth.” Adam was a genderless earthling, Our Sages teach that G!d led this earthling, this humanoid, through the garden, to show all the trees and plants. G!d then warned this Adam: “Be careful,because if you damage or destroy these trees, there will be no one to replace them after you.”

Despite stating the obvious, we human beings are neglectful of our responsibility and continue to use our natural resources in a reckless way. And do you know what happens when you waste your natural resources? Eventually you run out of the stuff you need to live.

So Sukkot, the harvest festival, is the time of year that we go out and reconnect with the environment. It is the time of year we are reminded to be grateful for the gifts of earth, air and water, and for the animals. As we celebrate Sukkot we remember that we are part of the environment and not its master. It is a time to renew our commitment “to till and tend the earth”^[1] and not abuse it.

I’ll tell you something else that should be obvious: this is not someone else’s responsibility–it’s yours and mine. We are responsible for the planet on which we live. As Jews, we must set an example by caring for the environment.

But you knew that already, didn’t you?

Yet if that’s so, why don’t you recycle more regularly? Why don’t we shut off our lights when we leave a room and be more conscious of our use of fossil fuels? The solution to the coming crisis in the use of fossil fuels is not to find more of them but to learn how to use less. That ought to be obvious to our politicians but it isn’t. And why do we Americans create more trash than any other group of people on the planet–and why aren’t we better at recycling it?

And if we know that we have a responsibility to preserve and conserve our environment,

we should ask ourselves what more we might do in our congregation? Do we recycle enough? Are there other ways to lower our carbon footprint?

Here is something else that you might not know. Did you know that the four parts of the lulav and etrog symbolize the four habitats of the land of Israel?

• The lulav, the palm, grows in the desert;
• The hadas or myrtle, grows in the mountains;
• The aravah, the willow, grows by streams; and
• The etrog, the citron, is grown in the lowlands.

Together they symbolize the whole of our environment. When we hold the lulav and etrog, the world is in our hands–and it is up to us to preserve it and care for it.

Whoa–that may be way too profound or heavy for Rabbi Obvious!

Yet it doesn’t take a deep thinker to realize that we need this planet for generations to come and that we are responsible for it just as we are responsible for our own homes. A native American proverb states:

Treat the earth well. It was not given to you by your parents,

it was loaned to you by your children.

We do not inherit the Earth from our Ancestors;

we borrow it from our Children.

On this Sukkot, let us not take the obvious for granted, and do what obviously needs to be done, so that obviously we and all humans continue to have a home.

On this Sukkot, let us be grateful for the obvious blessings of nature and of our environment and do everything in our power to preserve them.

May we heed G!d’s reminder that no one can replace the animal species or natural habitats we destroy.

May we return our world to our grandchildren and great grandchildren if not intact, then in good shape, restoring what we might and not further deteriorating this global home to all.

If we enter a sukkah, let us look through the openings at the world around us and the stars above us and pledge to protect our planet.

As we shake the lulav and etrog, let us be reminded of all the habitats that we cannot see, and realize how interrelated all life is, and commit ourselves to being a conduit for cohesion and continuity.

Chag Samei-ach!

^[1] Genesis 2:15.