Ecological Concerns in Rabbinic Literature
The ancient rabbinic sages did not see degradation of the natural
environment as a systemic problem: but we can learn from their legislation
addressing the more local environmental issues of which they were aware.
By Rabbi Louis Jacobs
Reprinted with
permission from The
Jewish Religion: A Companion,
published by Oxford University Press.
Concern with the preservation of the planet [became]
especially acute in the twentieth century. The proliferation of vast
industries; the successful fight against disease, creating the danger of
overpopulation; the use of nuclear energy; building activities on a scale
unimagined in the past; the risk of global warming or the greenhouse effect, as
it is called: all these factors contribute to anxiety about the ecological
state of the world. The classical Jewish sources, coming from a time when the
problem was hardly a serious one, cannot offer any kind of direct guidance.
The argument, on the basis of the verse: “And replenish the
earth, and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the
fowl of the air, and over every living thing that creepeth upon the earth”
(Genesis 1: 28), that, from the beginning, Judaism was opposed to ecological
concerns, is extremely faulty. When this verse was written, there was no
problem of ecology. On the contrary, at that time, man’s problem was how to
master the environment. This is quite apart from the fact that Jewish
interpretations of the verse have never understood it to mean that man’s right
and duty to conquer nature is unlimited.
Concern with the cultivation of a
wholesome environment is evident in the older Jewish sources, although these do
not deal with the problem on a global scale, requiring the cooperative efforts
of many nations, but with the more limited problem of how city-dwellers are to
come to terms with their environment and how the individual is to avoid wasting
nature’s resources.
Waste disposal, for instance, was
a major concern in rabbinic times. Care was to be taken, the rabbis [of
classical and late antiquity] urged, that bits of broken glass should not be
scattered on public land where they could cause injury. Saintly men, the
[Babylonian] Talmud [=BT] (Bava Kama 30a) remarks, would bury their broken
glassware deep down in their own fields. Other rubbish could be deposited on
public land, but only during the winter months when, in any event, the roads
were a morass of mud because of the rains. In the Mishnah (Bava Batra 2),
rabbinic concern for a peaceful and clean environment was given expression in
definite laws A dovecote must not be kept within 50 cubits of a town and no one
may keep a dovecote on his own property, unless his land extends at least 50
cubits in every direction around it. The reason is to prevent the doves from
consuming the seeds sown in the neighboring fields.
Since a city is more attractive
with a wide open space around it, no trees may be planted within a distance of
25 cubits from the city. If the trees were there before the city was built they
can be cut down, but the owner is entitled to compensation for the loss of his
trees. (All this obviously does not refer to the planting of trees as an
adornment of the city, a concept unknown in Mishnaic times.) Carcasses, graves,
and tanneries must be kept at a distance of at least 50 cubits from the city. A
tannery must not be set up in such a way that the prevailing winds waft the
unpleasant odor to the town.
A prohibition known as bal tashchit, “do not destroy,” is based
by the Rabbis on the biblical injunction not to destroy fruit-bearing trees
(Deuteronomy 20: 19), but it is extended by them to include wasting anything
that can be used for the benefit of mankind. For instance, while it was the
custom to rend the garments on hearing of the death of a near relative, to tear
too much or too many garments violates this rule (BT Bava Kama 91b).
Maimonides formulates this as: “It
is not only forbidden to destroy fruit-bearing trees but whoever breaks
vessels, tears clothes, demolishes a building, stops up a fountain or wastes
food, in a destructive way, offends against the law of ‘thou shalt not
destroy.’” Maimonides’ qualification, “in a destructive way,” is intended to
convey the thought that if, say, a fruit-bearing tree is causing damage to
other trees, it may be cut down since then the act is constructive. A midrashic
homily has it that the reason why the wood used for the Tabernacle in the
wilderness was not from fruit-bearing trees, was to teach human beings that
when they build their own homes they should use wood from other than
fruit-bearing trees.
Louis Jacobs is a
prominent English rabbi, theologian, and university lecturer whose many books
include Religion and the Individual: A Jewish
Perspective, The
Book of Jewish Belief, The Book of Jewish
Practice,
and A Jewish
Theology.
© Louis Jacobs, 1995.
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