Our rabbis say (Tosafot, Suk. 37b) that when we shake the lulav and etrog on Sukkot, “the trees of the forest sing with joy.” So that got us to wondering, what are the conditions that might allow the trees around us to sing with the greatest amount of joy during this holiday season that just passed? Every year on Sukkot, the US imports upwards of 500,000 lulavim from Israel and Egypt so that we can construct our traditional lulavim bundles using the familiar palm fronds, willow, myrtle, and citron. This combination of species has become so definitional that most of us probably don’t even consider that a lulav could be constructed any other way. But the original text is not so clear. In Torah (Lev 23.40), where we’re first told about the four species, the text simply says:

לְקַחְתֶּ֨ם לָכֶ֜ם בַּיּ֣וֹם הָרִאשׁ֗וֹן פְּרִ֨י עֵ֤ץ הָדָר֙ כַּפֹּ֣ת תְּמָרִ֔ים וַעֲנַ֥ף עֵץ־עָבֹ֖ת וְעַרְבֵי־נָ֑חַל וּשְׂמַחְתֶּ֗ם לִפְנֵ֛י יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶ֖ם שִׁבְעַ֥ת יָמִֽים׃

On the first day you shall take the fruit of beautiful trees, fronds of palm-shaped trees, branches of woven trees, and valley-willows, and you shall rejoice before YHVH your God for seven days.

Nowhere does it determine, at its linguistic core, the particular species that are to be shaken. That was a later rabbinic interpretation and discussion. So then, returning to our original question: What are the conditions that might allow the trees around us to sing with the greatest amount of joy?

Importing 500,000 lulavim from over 6,000 miles away could produce an estimated 50 metric tonnes of carbon pollution. Does that add to the joy of the singing trees? Shaking a bundle of plant life where only one of the four species – willow – grows in Michigan – does that make for joyous tree singing? Or what would it look like and feel like to harvest species that grow nearby with our own hands, and assemble a lulav bundle that pays homage to Michigan’s local plant-life, while honoring the Torah roots of the lulav instruction? On Sukkot, we shake the lulav to bring down rain from the sky to water our crops and give us new life come spring. Do we think we’ll be able to conjure more rain with plants that are foreign to this soil, or plants that were once rooted in this soil? We asked: How might using local lulavs impact our ability to connect with the earth that surrounds us and how might using local lulavs impact the forest’s ability to “sing with joy”?

With all of this in mind, Hazon Detroit supplied over 115 local lulavs and local lulav education to eleven Metro Detroit Jewish organizations this Sukkot. All of the educational materials and more resources on how to construct your own local lulav can be found below.

Of course, this is just one example of what it might look like to continue to reimagine and reconstruct a Judaism that is responsive to the natural world around us, and that is responsible to the global environment that we all share. How could this concept extend to other Jewish rituals and celebrations? How might it apply to other consumer choices that we make in our day to day lives? How might we continue to focus in locally on our communities, our neighbors, and our natural environment?

Hazon Detroit is doing just that this month. Although the High Holidays have passed, we continue to remain hard at work, rescuing food, providing education and experiences for our community, and trying to do as much good as we can in the world, with an emphasis on what’s happening right outside our doors. We hope you’ll join us and are grateful for your continued support!

In loving community,

Rabbi Nate, Wren, Marla, Brittany, and Hannah

The post Hazon Detroit: Shake Local appeared first on Adamah.

My family and I live in Portland, Oregon – which is both geographically and symbolically out on the edges of American Jewish life. My husband and I work outside of Jewish community. Our neighborhood is a little oasis of diversity in the very white northwest –our neighbors are from all over the world, often recent immigrants from Africa, Latin America, and South Asia. I love raising my kids to know all our neighbors, and at the same time, it makes our connection to Jewish life all the more precious.

Finding a Jewish community for our family took a long time. Though Portland might sound like the frontier, it actually has more than eight shuls, a Jewish museum, and even an Unshul! But for my family, we want the Torah learning of the Chasidim, with the social justice of Heschel, with a heavy dose of Earth-based mysticism, gender equality and pluralism, interfaith connection, and lots of kids, all in an atmosphere of profound joy and ecstatic music.

We have a hard time finding a home even when we are at home. Coming to Sukkahfest at Isabella Freedman Jewish Retreat Center in Falls Village, Connecticut is a return to center, because all of the things we long for in Jewish life are in one place.

Under the sukkah, farm-to-table meals serve up the best of the harvest. The combined song and praise from the three minyans (Orthodox, Traditional Egalitarian, and Renewal) blend and rise up over Lake Miriam, up through the turning leaves of the hills beyond. And in the time in between, there is deep learning offered by rabbis and teachers across the spectra of Jewish text and experience – and pickle making!

Our kids can get joyfully muddy as they explore the farm, meet the goats, hike the hills, and play in the excellent Camp Teva program. We dive into sessions on Jewish ecology, anti-racism, the Divine feminine, the history of the Aleph Bet and Torah scribing, Jewish yoga, sweet Chasidic teaching, or take a meditative walk in the deep woods.

My favorite place is Sukkat Chalom – the Sukkah of Dreams. Gathering here at night for a tisch, my daughter cuddles up in my lap under a blanket. The smell of hay bales, schach, and recent rain fills the air. The moonlight and the sukkah’s twinkling decorative lights shine on the gathered faces. We sing, dance, and pound the tables in joyful celebration of the season, and being together.

“All Streams, One Source,” is the resounding call of the gathering, and the echo that follows me through the rest of my year. It is a well I draw from when I return home: in my work, in my shul, and in my connection to Judaism.

We’re often asked why we travel all the way across the country to go to Sukkahfast. Why? Because until Jerusalem, the City of Peace, is spread all across the Earth, may it be speedily and in our days, Sukkahfest is like no other place on Earth.

Toby Shulruff learns and plays with her family in the Pacific Northwest.

The post Sukkahfest Reflections appeared first on Adamah.

Upon entering Isabella Freedman you are greeted by a warm welcoming wooden sign “We are blessed by your arrival.”

This just about sums up the overall feeling of good cheer that surrounds Sukkahfest from beginning to end and stays with you long after you have physically left the grounds.

Sukkahfest is truly a unique experience. After having just returned from #5, I’m excited to share what Sukkahfest means to me and my family. 

Five (5) focuses for Five (5) Sukkahfest celebrations:

1. Sukkat Shalom. This is the focal point of the entire stay and is decorated simply but beautifully. From that first evening, you are enveloped by the soft lighting which invites you in and makes you feel right at home. 
2. Farm-to-Table. Food at Isabella Freedman is incredible. A delicious variety of meat, chicken and fish (and vegetarian), tons of amazing vegetables, great soups plus seemingly endless bottles of both red and white wines and yummy challah (don’t forget the honey). 
3. Fall Foliage. The natural beauty of the area enhances the Sukkahfest experience tenfold. One of my favorite activities is just walking on the road towards the Adama farm and the small quaint town nearby admiring the gorgeous changing leaves almost forming a beautiful pathway. 
4. Family. Whether you arrive at Sukkahfest as a single or couple, with friends or loved ones, you leave with a new “family”. There are lots of familiar faces but always new participants that you can’t help but bump into and start a conversation hanging out in the main room, during sessions, on line for the buffet or during davening. 
5. Goats. Visiting these adorable animals and hearing about the Adama internship program is quite enlightening. Educating young people from all walks of life about sustainability is so important. 

On a personal note, my husband and I (and our 3 sons) were very fortunate 5 years ago to be included in a wonderful group from back home previously attending Sukkahfest. It’s a testament to the folks that run Isabella Freedman that not only have my sons come back year after year (our family now includes a wife and a girlfriend), but after my husband passed away 2 years ago they initiated coming back to be all together. 

Seeing their genuine camaraderie, playing games, reading and relaxing in the hammocks, hanging out in one of their rooms, talking and laughing in the sukkah is a beautiful thing. 

Sukkahfest allows you to “do” the holiday on your own terms. Find a bench and soak up the sun, attend thought provoking discussions, hike the must see Overlook trail, tour the farm, take a goat for a walk, play Bananagrams, enjoy the uplifting service of your choice and experience a very meaningful Hallel and Hackafot. And of course eat to your heart’s content. 

Can’t wait for you to return or to be one of the new smiling faces. 

Rhonda Beth Greif lives in Stamford, CT, and has been attending Sukkahfest since 2015. She and her husband Avi (z”l) have three sons together: Matt (& Liat), Coby (& Heather), and Jensen. Formerly an MCI/Verizon employee for 28 years, Rhonda is now a Mah Jongg instructor, health coach (Optavia), and personalized bag representative (Initials, inc.) and loving them all.

The post What Sukkahfest Means to Me appeared first on Adamah.

Parshat Haazinu

[NOTE: Applications for the next JOFEE Fellowship cohort are open now through October 5! Apply today!]

In Ha’azinu, Moses sees the Israelites for who they are: humans, scarred by 40 years of impatient wandering and in no mood to listen obediently. Moses is 120 years old and holds so much wisdom; this is the last day before his death, and he has some things to say. He has the story of his life to tell, which in his epic personal union with the Israelite people is also the story of God. He needs them to understand, like the tender, concerned patriarch that he is, how to live in God’s favor so they can blossom into the promised land and not mess up this covenant (fast-forward: oops).  

What he has to say is so important that he does something that really resonates with me. Moses speaks language that heaven and earth themselves will understand, and in a language that will more likely move the people: in song.

He launches into a 48-verse poem doing his damnedest to sum up his life’s spiritual learnings. I’m not going to get into it because it’s densely rich in meaning and metaphor and historical context and critiqueable content that honestly I don’t have time to dive in because I don’t know when I’d come out. But I can summarize it as a poem about God.

Or, what we have left is a poem, but we know it’s called “the song of Moses,” and if we want to stretch our minds a little bit, we can imagine that it was a song with a melody. It inspires a deep, ancestral fluttering in the heart to imagine the song of 120-year-old Moses–on his death day, emptying the deepest truths of his soul, on the precipice of the promised land to which he’s denied entrance save for the one final glimpse he’ll get before his soul returns near to God. It must have been hauntingly and exultingly beautiful.

—

Since diving into the waters of the JOFEE world, I’ve been wondering how our tradition–born in the wilderness and hewn on the land–is now transmitted to us through text. Often opaque, dense, linear, black-and-white text.

Maybe it’s because, as one version goes, the rulers of 8th and 7th century BCE Judea wanted to shore up their power and legitimize their small-but-chosen kingdom. They commissioned the most compelling set of stories ever told and now we have the Torah.

Later, exile forced us into a lot of contortions, including developing the incredible, portable technology of the talmud so our oral history may never die even as most of the bearers of those stories were starved or murdered.

Since the first millenium we were strangers in every strange land, bound to our past and each other by the word, to the hebrew language that could support a friendship between Jews in any part of the world.

And all these acts, these consecrations into the word, are such deeply human reactions to dislocation, and isolation, and desecration.

Out of this question–how our tradition became a text-based tradition–emerges another: how can I inherit an enriched heritage that is more than text-based? How can I communicate in a way Moses communicated on that day, in a way that roundly resonates the earth more than writing or scribing or typing does?

One attempt at answering this question led me to directing a performance in this summer’s Carnival de Resistance, an interfaith world-building project and residency that intersects art and ecological resistance. The performance was called “Selah!” and it was a wandering storytelling exhibition through a cave of jewish remembrance and resilience. We mashed up and retold stories about jewish grief, wisdom, commitment to tikkun olam, and bravery in the face of massive imperial oppression.

The stories were good, but the experience was made complete by our allies in the senses: most of the cave was almost completely pitch black, within which the audience experienced the sound of voices, a dripping cistern, crunching rocks beneath their feet; they smelled the smell of decomposing leaves and old books; they felt the stones on which they tread and they felt where each other was by touch; they felt in their hands the brittle texture of dead leaves and magical pages. There was so much to convey, we knew that words alone weren’t going to teach what needed to be taught. This, as I’ve come to understand, was also what Moses was thinking.

The translation of ha’azinu is “listen y’all.” The first line of this parsha is ha’azinu hashamayim va’adabarah; v’tishema ha’aretz, eemray fee–based on translations I’ve found and my own surmising, this means “listen all transcendent beings, I’m going to speak; hear, all earthly beings, I’m about to make a statement.” To the earth, shema, and to the heavens, ha’azinu. Moses is quite aware of the different ways of listening, and for him, what was foremostly important was that heaven itself could hear what he had to say.

In the cave the audience was delighted, frightened, and mystified, which are all feelings that open up the senses and stir the elemental makeup of a person and get the parts of them that can listen like heaven to do so. Creative artistic resonance that stirs the heart and the soul is almost certainly the spiritual language of heaven, at least more than linear text. I’m inspired by the possibilities of how art intersects with our faith: it offers the possibility of speaking in our indigenous language – not Yiddish, or Ladino, or Hebrew, but in the language of earth and of heaven.

Alex Voynow is a JOFEE Fellow at Jewish Farm School. He grew up in the Pine Barrens, 45 minutes east of Philly, where his growing wonder of trees and forest soil mingled with a discomfort and distrust of mainstream suburban lifestyle, and set his eyes towards alternative and restorative ways of living. Read his full bio here. 

—

Editor’s Note: Welcome to D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog! Most weeks throughout the year, you’ll be hearing from the JOFEE Fellows: reflections on their experiences, successful programs they’ve planned and implemented, gleanings from the field, and connections to the weekly Torah portion and what they’ve learned from their experiences with place in their host communities for the year. Views expressed are the author’s and do not necessarily represent Hazon. Be sure to check back weekly!

The post Listen Ya’ll! | D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog appeared first on Adamah.

By: Ilana Ungar, Pearlstone JOFFEE Fellow

As our fields are at the height of abundance and our days filled with sunshine we reach a joyful holiday, our Jewish harvest festival, Sukkot. On the full moon of Tishrei we celebrate the season’s bounty, pray for rain, rejoice in our Sukkah commemorating rituals that give us spiritual, emotional and physical sustenance.

Traditionally for seven days and seven nights people gathered in community to eat and sleep in Sukkot. It is a time for us to be connected to nature not only through the bounty of our fields but also through sleeping among the stars. It is a time for us to take a step back from our busy fast paced, technology filled lives and to reconnect with ourselves, our community and our natural world. I grew up not having a deep connection to Sukkot and its earth-based connection, so I am excited this year to truly immerse myself in our tradition.

As we build our Sukkah in community, we build our roof (s’khakh) of anything that grows from the ground and has not been manufactured into something new. Symbolically how our structure is built represents the connection between nature and our man-made world. Our sukkah teaches us to find comfort in the vulnerability of the natural world and to witness all its beauty. Our Sukkah connects hearts, minds and souls to the stars, rain and holy winds that breathes all life.

The Torah states: “On the first day, you shall take the first fruit of hadar (goodly) trees (an etrog or citron), branches of palm trees (lulav), boughs of leafy trees (hadassim) and myrtle, and willows of the field (aravot), and you shall rejoice before the Lord thy God seven days” (Leviticus 23:40). These four species represent the beauty and bounty of the land of Israel’s harvest. Each of these four species represent the Earth’s primary habitats (desert, mountains, lowland and river). We wave our four species in the four directions of the wind: around us, above and below us, and inward towards us. Something very interesting is that these four species are the thirstiest plants in their bioregional zone in Israel. Is this a coincidence? I think not! During Sukkot, we pray for rain for our next harvest season. What might this rain represent? Even the thirstiest among us should have enough. I ask you to think about what is going to sustain you for the next year? Sustain us a Jewish community? And sustain mother nature?

I invite you to take time this Sukkot think about what it means to be living in a time of global climate change and uncertainty. Let us connect to ourselves, our environment and our community. Let us rejoice in our bounty not only inwards but outwards, intentionally pray for rain and the healing of mother nature and reconnect to the basic fact that mother nature gives us all we need.

Traditionally the elements in the lulav are grown in Israel. But, you can make your own Maryland-local lulav with natural elements found right at Pearlstone, complete with cattails, wild grass, willow leaves and black walnuts. Bring your family and friends to Pearlstone on September 30 for HARVEST: Family Farm Festival and reconnect with nature this Sukkot!

Pearlstone is an Agency of The Associated: Jewish Community Federation of Baltimore, located at 5425 Mt. Gilead Rd in Reisterstown, MD. At Pearlstone, you can Retreat, Farm, Learn & Celebrate! Visit us at pearlstonecenter.org

JOFFEE (Jewish Outdoor, Food and Environmental Education) fellowship is supported by the Jim Joseph Foundation, in partnership with Pearlstone Center, Urban Adamah, and Wilderness Torah; and local funders and organizations in communities throughout North America.

The post Sukkot: A Spiritual Connection to our Environment appeared first on Adamah.

Parashat Balak

In this week’s Parasha, Balak (Numbers 22:2- 25:9), we read a tale about the ways in which kindness and gratitude contribute to justice and G-dliness, and an allegory relating systemic patterns of oppression to land:

King Balak of Moab, a ruler whose name means devastator, empty, or wasting, desperately attempts to curse the Israelites. He despises the Tribe of Jacob so deeply, that he attempts to hire Balaam to damn the Israelites for him:

There is a people that came out of Egypt; it hides the earth from view, and it is settled next to me.
Come then, put a curse upon this people for me, since they are too numerous for me; perhaps I can thus defeat them and drive them out of the land.
For I know that he whom you bless is blessed indeed, and he whom you curse is cursed.
~Numbers 22:5-22:7

Balaam mounts a literal WISE ass (inciteful female donkey) and sets out on his wicked task. The Divine however, has a different plan. G-d sends an armed angel to disrupt Balaam’s path, and each time the donkey attempts to avoid danger, Balaam fiercely beats her. After the third beating, the donkey lies down, and Balaam sees the armed angel in front of him.

The tale carries on from here. In a nutshell, Balaam refuses any bribe Balak offers because he cannot go against the wishes of G-d, who commands that all beings be blessed, not cursed… even enemies.

And then, we have the magic moment. With guidance from The Spirit, Balaam utters the words we now recite as Ma Tovu:

Word of Balaam son of Beor, Word of the man whose eye is true.
Word of him who hears God’s speech, Who beholds visions from the Almighty, Prostrate, but with eyes unveiled:
How fair are your tents, O Jacob, Your dwellings, O Israel!
Like palm-groves that stretch out, Like gardens beside a river, Like aloes planted by the LORD, Like cedars beside the water;
Their boughs drip with moisture, Their roots have abundant water. Their king shall rise above Agag, Their kingdom shall be exalted.
~Numbers 24:3 – 24:7

Balak despises the Israelites because their dwellings interrupt his view. Balak speaks of land as a commodity to hold power over, not a life-giving entity that supports the survival of humanity.

Drawing contemporary links, when I read about Balak, I think about Donald Trump. I think about the ways in which the US capitalist land-grab ethic has waged violence on immigrants and communities of color for centuries. I think about the absence of gratitude and exaltation for both the earth and it’s inhabitants that has become commonplace, in all of society and particularly in state-enforced agricultural, labor, and immigration policy.

Everyday we see people casting huge amounts of blame and hatred towards individuals, most often for reasons rooted in deep seated insecurity.

From Balaam, though, we learn otherwise.

As Jews, farming and otherwise, what would it mean to hold up Balaam’s lesson? To constantly speak truth to power? To always operate from a place of reverence? To constantly listen for guidance and hold space for messengers of all forms? Preaching hate or cursing people, land, or otherwise will never resolve our muckier personal trauma or collective suffering.

As Program Manager and JOFEE Fellow with Jewish Farm School, I have been thrilled about our organizational efforts to center dismantling oppression and hold up food justice in our Jewish cultural work. We’re creating programming and curricula that reflects the particular ways our Jewish people have been implicated in land-based and social justice histories. From a racial justice oriented Tu’Bshvat Sedar to our staff’s involvement with city and nation-wide organizing, and our upcoming immersion programs we, like Balaam, are constantly discovering new ways to uphold the Divine in the name of Justice and honor for the earth.

Hannah Slipakoff is Program Manager and JOFEE Fellow at Jewish Farm School in Philadelphia, PA. She is grateful to have experienced learning and working on diverse urban and rural farms over the past ten years; including apprenticing at George Jones Farm in Oberlin, OH, studying at The Center for Agroecology and Community Food Systems at UC Santa Cruz, training participants in The Philadelphia Community Farm Collaborative’s Beginner Farmer Training Program, managing Mort Brooks Memorial Farm for Weaver’s Way Food Co-op, and most recently, co-managing the field and supporting food sovereignty education programs for Soul Fire Farm in Grafton, NY. Read her full bio here. 

The post When a Donkey Speaks Truth to Power | D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog appeared first on Adamah.

May 18th, 2017 | 22nd Iyar 5777 | 37th day of the omer | gevurah she’b’yesod

16 Organizations. 17 Fellows. Over 500 programs. An estimated 37,000 participants in Jewish Outdoor, Food, Farming & Environmental Education (JOFEE) programs across the country. These are some of the incredible numbers emerging as we look back at our first JOFEE Fellowship cohort, who completed their closing seminar and siyum last week at our sister JOFEE organization, the Pearlstone Center outside Baltimore, MD.

Behind those numbers are thousands of people encountering – many for the first time – the incredible power of a Jewish tradition steeped in deep cultural and spiritual connection with the earth, with place, with human communities and our surrounding ecosystems, with our food, and with each other. 

A Jewish tradition that recognizes both the limits and abundance of the resources our home planet provides for us. A tradition that says this world is amazing – there is so much magnificence – and yet we have work to do – not to complete by ourselves, but neither to desist from doing our part.

And wow did our JOFEE Fellows do their part!

Here are a few highlights of programs that JOFEE Fellows created, coordinating, facilitated, and/or strengthened during their placement year:

~ Havdallah & Moon Celebration at the Farm – Shani Mink, Pushing the Envelope Farm

~ Israel Hike & Bike Trip for Young Professionals – Josh Kleymeyer, Mayerson JCC of Cincinnati in Partnership with 2GETHER, Netanya

~ Burnheim and Bourbon: Forest Hike + Distillery Tour –  Michael Fraade, Jewish Community of Louisville

~ 2016 Hazon Food Conference: Digging Deeper into the Jewish Food Movement – Jess Berlin, Isabella Freedman Jewish Retreat Center

~ Avodat Lev (morning prayers) and Jewish text study at San Quentin Prison – Rachel Binstock, Urban Adamah

Plus:

~ Over twenty Sukkot-related programs!

~ Tu Bishvat seders for early childhood; elementary; middle school / B’nai Mitzvah; young adults; JCC staff; congregations and families;

And even more:

• Spring Maple Sugaring Festival – Danielle Smith, Eden Village Camp
• Restaurant Night: Havana Rumble – Michael Fraade, Jewish Community of Louisville
• Family Farm Camp & Family Farm Days + Hebrew School on the Farm – Mira Menyuk, Pearlstone Center
• Shmita Foraging Event – Bailey Lininger, Tamarack Camps
• Seed613: Start up Environmental Panel – Becky Adelberg, JCC Chicago
• Shtetl Skills Workshops – Liora Lebowitz, Jewish Farm School
• Red River Gorge JOFEE Hike – Michael Fraade, Jewish Community of Louisville, with Josh Kleymeyer, Mayerson JCC of Cincinnati
• Northeast + Midwest Topsy Turvy Bus Tours – Emily Glick, Teva (Hazon)

In addition to program development and facilitation, JOFEE Fellows serve a crucial role in building organizational capacity and spearheading sustainability projects and initiatives for their placements. To wit:

• Eli Goldstein (Shimon and Sara Birnbaum JCC, Bridgewater, NJ) built a CSA, school-wide composting program, and sold-out afterschool engagement classes from near-scratch;
• Becky Adelberg (JCC Chicago) helped nine JCC sites in Chicago create new recycling programs and develop board-approved institutional policies banning styrofoam;
• Daniella Aboody developed and launched Wilderness Torah’s second location on the San Francisco Peninsula for the B’Hootz Sunday School in the Woods program;
• Michael Fraade started a new community garden at the Jewish Community of Louisville, in collaboration with regional hunger relief agency New Roots, creating a truly sustainable model for fresh food access (affordable and accessible in local neighborhoods, SNAP accepted, farmer paid, staff member paid, community supported);
• Liora Lebowitz tripled Jewish Farm School’s program capacity; 
• Rachel Aronson helped build and launch the first and second cohorts of the Hazon Seal of Sustainability;
• Danielle Smith coordinated and taught 34 brand new off-site outreach programs for Eden Village Camp, reaching over 1,000 children (and prospective campers);
• Zach Goldberg developed a Bokashi Composting Zero Waste program for Ramah in the Rockies;
• Nicole Cruz transformed Jewish wellness programs at Peninsula JCC through JOFEE infusions, staff learnings, and community workshops;
• Tzachi Flat led teens from his placement at the Oshman Family JCC in Palo Alto in a service learning project building a residential rabbit enclosure for the East Palo Alto Animal Shelter, soon to be joined by garden beds to plant rabbit-approved veggies to be fertilized by the rabbits, creating a sustainable, closed-loop system;

V’hinei tov – and it was good.

Along the way, we’ve learned a few things:

• that a Fellow can accomplish tremendous things in a year, and also that change can be slow and programs take time to build (and budget for) — some of our fellows’ best work laid the foundation for future programming and expansion as they continue on in their placements;
• that effective organizational partnerships are a tremendous catalyst for a deep and streamlined impact in a community;
• and that high-quality programs and initiatives in one location can establish best practices that ripple out to other organizations and institutions around the country.

And of course many more learnings from our first year. Overall, we’re tremendously proud of the work our Fellows have accomplished, and excited to see what they will achieve in the months, years, and decades to follow. 

In the early years of what we now call JOFEE, not so long ago, two programs in particular – Teva and Adamah – sparked such a deep sense of meaning and inspiration in their communities that their alumni couldn’t help but go out and create the fabric of the JOFEE landscape as it exists today. We call that alumni network Adva – which is both a hybridized word (Adamah + Teva) and is also the Hebrew word for ripple. Cohort 2 of the JOFEE Fellowship is already in full stride, having started in February 2017, and we now have seventeen JOFEE Fellows moving out as our first wave of alumni – many staying on in their placements in ongoing roles, others going to grad school for JOFEE-related fields such as teaching, agriculture, and geography. 

The ripples from this incredibly strong cohort of emerging JOFEE leaders have already begun. They will continue to spread, and strengthen, and create new waves as they bump into each other and interact in new and meaningful ways – infusing the presence of JOFEE in Jewish communities and institutions around the country, and strengthening the capacity of existing JOFEE organizations to both deepen and expand their programs.

Tremendous gratitude goes to the trustees and staff at the Jim Joseph Foundation; to our partners at Pearlstone Center, Urban Adamah, and Wilderness Torah; to JCC Association of North America for their support and collaboration; to all the organizations that hosted JOFEE Fellows; to our JOFEE mentors; to Nigel Savage for his leadership; to Judith Belasco, Hannah Henza, and former Hazon staffer Julie Botnick, who lent countless hours of wisdom and support to the growth and implementation of the Fellowship; and most of all to each and all of the Fellows. As the first cohort, they have trailblazed a new space with trust, grace, and perseverance. They have shown strong personal and collective leadership in every sense of the word, navigating all the complexities and excitement of this work. And they’ll continue to express leadership in their lives, in all the beautiful and myriad twists and turns that will take. I’m incredibly proud of each of them.

Ready to jump in? Applications for cohort 3 host placements are open now. Applications for fellows will open in early summer 2017 – complete our expression of interest form to stay up to date, and be sure to read up program details and eligibility on the website.

And don’t forget to mark your calendars for our 2nd Annual JOFEE Network Gathering: September 14-17 at Pearlstone Center – registration is open! Use discount code “REVELATION100” for $100 off through June 9, 2017.

In the meantime, enjoy a few more images of our first cohort’s year of joyful JOFEE infusion:

The post Old Stones, New Ripples – Reflections on the Close of JOFEE Fellowship Cohort 1 | D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog appeared first on Adamah.

Parashat Breishit + Sukkot

Editor’s Note: Welcome to D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog! Most weeks throughout the year, you’ll be hearing from the JOFEE Fellows: reflections on their experiences, successful programs they’ve planned and implemented, gleanings from the field, and connections to the weekly Torah portion and what they’ve learned from their experiences with place in their host communities for the year. Views expressed are the author’s and do not necessarily represent Hazon. Be sure to check back weekly! 

P.S. Interested in being or hosting a JOFEE Fellow? Applications for cohort two are now open for both prospective fellows and prospective host institutions! Priority Deadline is October 31!

Of all the Jewish holidays, I learn most about trust on Sukkot. Why? you might ask. After the New Year and the Day of Atonement, is not Sukkot the holiday of celebration and happiness? Sukkot is about trust for a few reasons. We build ourselves sukkahs – impermanent booths in which we are commanded to dwell – and in so doing we find ourselves up-rooted. We create a new home susceptible to the elements and porous to the sky. The holiday necessitates a release of control, a faith that we will survive the elements no matter what the weather holds.

As the Festival of Ingathering, Sukkot again reminds us to trust. On this harvest holiday, we are reminded to trust that the earth will provide us with abundance to last us through the cold winter.

And lastly, the theme of trust surfaces again in another very important way: it is on this very holiday that we begin to pray for rain. We shake the lulav in all directions, beckoning the rains to fall and grace us with their life-giving force. We start reciting the rain prayer in the Amidah so that the rain might come to water our fields all winter in preparation for the new crop cycle to begin in Spring – paving the way for an abundant harvest when next Sukkot comes around.

As a recently new resident and farmer of California, I entered Sukkot with my own prayer for rain. I am suddenly, acutely aware – in a way I imagine my ancestors were too – that without rain there is no life. It hadn’t rained in California since I moved here last spring to start my JOFEE Fellowship placement at Urban Adamah, and it had been a very dry winter even before I arrived. The earth was beyond parched, a new kind of dry, lacking gusto and limited in its ability to provide. But three days of heavy rains finally came right before Sukkot started – and, moments after we had picked up our entire farm and moved it a mile north.

Urban Adamah has been in the process of building and developing a new permanent community center well equipped to host all kinds of guests and gatherings. It is now a space ready to hold radical prayer amongst the garden beds, a sanctuary of living breathing beings amongst the city hardscape of roads and buildings. We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful welcome to our new home. The rain coated this new (and also very ancient) land in a blessing. It is now a land whose story can once again boast of its purpose: to nourish, to feed, to inspire, and to hold. This land is the new source from which we provide free food for hundreds of folks who identify as in-need every week. It is a space in which families, Jewish and non, can connect to community, to mindfulness, and to the earth.

And the rains came just in time. As we prepared to welcome over 500 folks to our new site with our grand opening event – Eat, Pray, Lulav – the skies opened to welcome us home, to water our new baby trees, to fill up our rain swales and to wish us a fruitful and nourishing landing. With the rain’s blessing, it was a true success. The festival included stations like ephemeral art, pita making, pickling, sukkah flag-decorating, Ask-a-Rabbi booth, and more. We learned about native plant species through ceramic art, we rain danced – shaking the lulav with families in the sukkah, and we celebrated, with music and food, our new permanent home on this holiday of ephemerality.

The most amazing part of this moment in time is how our own unfolding story of rain and home is mirrored in the story of this week’s parsha. In Breishit we are given two creation stories. In the first, God creates the world in six days. Water is a big part of that creative process. On Day Two the waters of above and below are separated, on day three water and land are made distinct, and on day five animals of the sea (and sky) are the first beings to be created after plants. But in Genesis chapter two we see an entirely different framing for water. We find that the land is parched, that no life is possible on the earth, because God had not made it rain. And then waters came up from the ground and drenched the surface of the earth. It was only then that God was ready to make life. And the first life God creates is humanity, from the dust of the earth.

The rain has always been the reason we are able to live. It is what prepares the soil for the shaping and creating of the first human, and it’s therefore part and parcel of our very bodies. Rain is the vector through which body and breadth – sukkah and inhabitant – can dwell together in impermanent unity. And so the coming of the rains bring blessings of possibility, of life, and of home. And with the rain’s blessing on this new community center, we can continue to honor God’s creation. It is on this farm and through our programs that people of all ages fall in love with creation – big and small – and find their way home to themselves, to their community, and to this earth.

So. On the heels of the water-drawing festival day concluding Sukkot, I bless us all with a year of rain in its right time and place; a year of appropriate provisions; and a year dwelling under the wings of trust holding us through the doubt and uncertainty. Let us all find sources of life-giving water to nourish our work and our spirits; to allow our communities, our fields, and our relationships to thrive so that we may reap without a sense of scarcity; and so that we find ourselves willing and ready to share the abundance that always is.

Rachel is a native of Chicago and currently serves as the JOFEE Fellow at Urban Adamah in Berkeley, CA. She loves making Torah come to life on the farm and in the forest with kids of all ages. Read her full bio here. 

The post In the Sukkah We Trust | D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog appeared first on Adamah.

Two weeks ago, right after Yom Kippur, families and communities began erecting beautiful Sukkot. Decorated with gourds, topped with bamboo, tree branches, or corn stalks, these sukkot have provided a temporary home for Jews across the world for eight days.

That was yesterday. Today, those Sukkot are coming down– along with tons of schach, organic material that covers the top of the Sukkah.

On the Upper West Side in New York City, twelve congregations, organized in partnership with Hazon Seal site B’nai Jeshurun, are doing good with their post-Sukkot waste. Through a unique partnership with the New York City Department of Sanitation, sites are composting schachs, lulavs, and etrogs– diverting literally tons of organic material from the landfill!

Throwing organics into a landfill contributes to harmful methane gas emissions and increases our carbon footprint, while composting contributes to healthy soil and prevents the need for chemical fertilizers. What better way to end Sukkot than by re-affirming our commitment to a healthy and sustainable planet?

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Parashat V’zot Haberachah + Sukkot & Simchat Torah

Editor’s Note: Welcome to D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog! Most weeks throughout the year, you’ll be hearing from the JOFEE Fellows: reflections on their experiences, successful programs they’ve planned and implemented, gleanings from the field, and connections to the weekly Torah portion and what they’ve learned from their experiences with place in their host communities for the year. Views expressed are the author’s and do not necessarily represent Hazon. Be sure to check back weekly! 

P.S. Interested in being or hosting a JOFEE Fellow? Applications for cohort two are now open for both prospective fellows and prospective host institutions! Priority Deadline is October 31!

Together with the holiday of Simchat Torah, V’zot Haberacha, the final parsha of the Torah, marks the transition from the end of a cycle to beginning anew. From beginning to end, the readings of Torah follow the Jewish calendar, and there are strong parallels between the cycle of the Jewish calendar and the corresponding seasonal and agricultural cycles of the year. During Simchat Torah, we ready ourselves to read the final parsha of the Torah – to celebrate our accumulated knowledge and wisdom – just to launch back into a completely new cycle by starting back at the beginning of the Torah. In the parsha, we witness the final moments of Moshe before his death as he gives blessings to each individual tribe, who as a whole make up the nation of Israel. I find it beautiful that in this text each tribe is given its own unique blessing. For example, the tribe of Joseph (sometimes broken into the “half” tribes of Ephraim and Menasheh) is associated with Tishrei and Chesvan, the rainy winter months of the Hebrew calendar, and is blessed with the bounty of rain. The tribe of Issachar, associated with the month of Iyar (mid-spring), is blessed with success in Torah studies.

At Jewish Farm School, we are now harvesting the final fruits and vegetables of the fall and readying the land for the next season of growing and abundance. As each of the twelve tribes offers a unique strength and characteristic to the nation of Israel, Jewish Farm School attempts to honor each of the twelve months of our year and the agricultural landmarks that occur over this cycle. Much like each tribe receives a blessing based on its individual characteristics, each of Jewish Farm School’s different programs seek to feed a different part of our mission as a nonprofit organization. We celebrate the parallels and intertwining of the Jewish and agricultural cycle with programmatic abundance. Here are some highlights:

Our Philly Farm Crew program acts as a part of our mission to engage with the food justice system in Philadelphia. I have had the privilege of visiting and volunteering with a handful of local farms around Philadelphia, many of which I regularly coordinate volunteer times with. It has been amazing to get to know the farmers who run these spaces and to witness the growth and production over the season. I hope for the blessing of continuing to have volunteers who want to support these farms which are actively changing the food system in Philadelphia by providing fresh produce to local communities, sometimes in spaces where there are limited options.

Our Shtetl Skills programming encompasses Jewish Farm School’s mission of sustainability with workshops that teach skills to help us live more sustainably in our own homes. This fall alone we have hosted two urban medicinal plant walks, a mushroom growing workshop, and a seed saving workshop, with more to come. It has been wonderful to not only be able to participate in these workshops that attract and engage many different members of our local community, but also to have learned tangible new skills myself. I hope for the blessing of continued learning and the ability to make a shift in our lives that better benefits our earth.

The bulk of our Jewish holiday based programming has yet to happen, and in fact, this upcoming Sunday marks the first annual Sukkot Harvest Festival put on by Jewish Farm School. An event such as this represents our mission of engaging with earth-based Judaism, in this case by celebrating the holiday of Sukkot on a farm. This event is special for a number of reasons: first, it is always exciting to celebrate Sukkot. Second, this program reaches beyond our usual member base and invites participants of all ages and backgrounds to join us in this celebration. Third, this program is different because instead of taking an activity about food or farming and relating it to Judaism, we have the opportunity to take a Jewish holiday and place it on a farm to show the tangible Jewish connections to our fall harvest. I hope for the blessing of being able to impact and enhance the experience of Sukkot for the members of the community that join us this Sunday, and to begin a tradition that will continue to mark the end of the Torah and agricultural cycle for years to come.

With these final blessings we close this year’s cycle and ready ourselves to launch into the next one. Much like the plants in the ground, the cycle is always happening. Energy is stored in seeds and soil until a plant is ready to bloom and we are able to harvest its bounty. Similarly, we are always in our own cycle of life and Torah, reading another portion of the Torah each week until we too are ready to bloom and harvest – particularly during the pilgrimage festivals of Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot when we ready ourselves “to see and be seen before the face of G‑d.” Here at Jewish Farm School we will continue to connect the simultaneous cycles of which we are a part of and to honor the parallels of our earth and of our Torah.

Liora is a JOFEE Fellow and the Program Coordinator for Jewish Farm School. After a brief rejection of nature-related activities in her teen years, she reconnected with the Jewish eco-world through her work at Eden Village Camp and as a member of the 2015 Fall cohort of Teva educators. See her full bio here.

The post To See and Be Seen | D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog appeared first on Adamah.

Sukkot and Parashat Ha’azinu

Editor’s Note: Welcome to D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog! Most weeks throughout the year, you’ll be hearing from the JOFEE Fellows: reflections on their experiences, successful programs they’ve planned and implemented, gleanings from the field, and connections to the weekly Torah portion and what they’ve learned from their experiences with place in their host communities for the year. Views expressed are the author’s and do not necessarily represent Hazon. Be sure to check back weekly! 

P.S. Interested in being or hosting a JOFEE Fellow? Applications for cohort two are now open for both prospective fellows and prospective host institutions! 

On a hot summer day in late August, I led a group of young adults on a tour of the Adamah farm on BeeBee Hill at Isabella Freedman Jewish Retreat Center. The inscription above the gateway, “And God saw that it was good,” reminds us of a classic JOFEE interpretation of the Genesis creation story: that the interdependent relationships found in nature are fundamentally good; and that by emulating these relationships, humans can learn to create more sustainable relationships with one another and the land. We then approached the orchard – designed using permaculture principles that imitate the natural layered systems of the forest – where we counted only about three small apples and three peaches growing on some twenty trees. “Has the fruit already been harvested?” one young woman asked. Unfortunately no. This was it, the fruit from the entire season. Our meager yield stemmed from larger climate issues affecting all of New England this year, mainly drought. Just like our ancient Israelite ancestors, we are dependent on rain coming at the right time and in proper amounts. The Shema, the core Jewish prayer, serves as a daily reminder of our reliance on rain and how its behavior signals the quality of our relationship with God. Shema – “Hear” – we are instructed. Hear the single unifying force behind all that exists.

This week’s Torah portion, Parashat Ha’azinu, means “Listen.” Ha’azinu features Moshe’s final address to the people. Written in poetic prose, Moshe begins by invoking the heavens and earth to bear witness: “Give ear, O heavens, let me speak; Let the Earth hear the words I utter! May my speech come down as the rain; my words distill as the dew.” According to Rashi (French Bible and Talmud Commentator), Moshe calls upon heaven and earth to bear witness to his words because he recognizes that his death is imminent, and he wants his words to be remembered by the most ancient and eternal staples of the universe. The heavens and earth were formed first in the creation story and therefore hold the most historic wisdom dating back to the beginning of time. When Moshe addresses the heaven and earth, he uses different language: He invites the heavens to listen, while he asks the earth to hear. This symbolizes the direct connection our actions have on the way that the heaven and earth relate. When we deviate from our inherent Oneness with God, these ancient witnesses, heaven and earth, are the first to react by withholding their blessing. When we make space for God in our lives, the heaven listens and offers down its rain and the earth hears by producing its bounty. This relationship is so paramount to our survival that we are explicitly reminded of it daily in the Shema prayer.

At this time, we also approach the Holiday of Sukkot (Feast of Booths and Festival of Ingathering), and I am again reminded of the continued relevance our ancient traditions have today. Sukkot, which is also known as “z’man simchateinu,” or “season of our joy,” is an agricultural festival celebrating the autumn harvest, and is also one of the three biblically based pilgrimage holidays known as the Shalosh Regalim. In ancient times, following the harvest, the Israelites would travel to the temple in Jerusalem to celebrate their abundance and give thanks to God for seven straight days. Today, we celebrate by dwelling in impermanent huts called Sukkot, just like our ancestors did for forty years of wandering through the desert before entering the land of Israel. According to Rashbam (French Bible and Talmud commentator), we dwell in the Sukkah to remind us of our vulnerable and ephemeral existence; to return to the ideal spiritual state of humility and dependency on God. The Sukkot Festival culminates in the holiday of Shemini Atzeret, which literally means “the assembly of the eighth [day]”. At this time, we add the words “Mashiv HaRuah U’Morid Ha’Gashem,” “the One who makes the wind blow, and makes the rain descend,” to the Amidah, the central prayer in our worship services, which remain there for the next six months until Passover in the Spring.

It is not a coincidence that Parshat Ha’azinu and Sukkot, calling us to listen and to gather in, occur during this time of year. All around us, we can see signs of the earth listening to the internal rhythm of the changing season and gathering in to prepare for winter. Here at Isabella Freedman, Adamah farmers are harvesting all of the seasons produce before the first frost hits, the squirrels are busy collecting nuts, and the leaves are changing color and some have even begun to fall (many leaves fell prematurely weeks ago due to lack of rainfall).

For me, the Torah comes to life when I connect Judaism’s earth-based traditions to the natural world and the seasons just like our ancestors did. In my role as the JOFEE Manager, I am responsible for ensuring that all retreat guests have an opportunity to participate in a JOFEE programming during their stay. It is my hope that JOFEE infusions at Isabella Freedman, offer guests a chance to experience firsthand the source of their sustenance. With opportunities to visit our farm, preserve our harvest through pickling workshops, and meditation walks in the forest, for many guests, JOFEE programming offers a new perspective on cultivating Jewish identities, spiritual practice and cultural connection.

On a global scale, though, how does our ancient tradition help us make sense of the heartbreaking devastation in Haiti caused by Hurricane Matthew*? What are the heaven and earth telling us? The idea that our covenantal relationship with God is reflective in the natural events of weather is a difficult one for me to relate to. Making the connection between caring for the earth as a way of honoring the Divine feels much more meaningful to me. Focusing on the uncertainty of rain and the relationship between our actions and harmony of the natural world is the perfect conclusion to the High Holiday season.

Since I began working here in June, we have successfully delivered nearly 60 individual JOFEE programs to retreat guests at Isabella Freedman. Each one, like water, nourishes people. I am honored and inspired to continue offering JOFEE programming at Isabella Freedman deep into the rain season as the lead staff planning the culmination of all the JOFEE programming we do throughout the year: the 11^th annual Hazon Food Conference – “Digging Deeper Into the Jewish Food Movement.” Held over the last 4 nights of Hannukah and New Year’s Eve (December 28th to January 1st), the Food Conference is one of Hazon’s signature annual events. It’s built the foundation for the Jewish food movement over the past decade. It brings together passionate people who are working for sustainable food systems on multiple levels – nationally and internationally, in their communities, and in their own lives. This year, we will learn alongside leading experts, growers, rabbis, writers and chefs, and envision how to positively impact the future of our sustainable food systems. We’ll be offering a brand new Kids Food Conference (KFC), happening simultaneously, where children and adults will reconnect with the Jewish tradition of food and learn and share ways that we can collectively heal the planet. It is no coincidence that there are no biblical holidays between Sukkot and Passover. Our ancestors used the rainy winter months as a time to slow down and draw inward before the growing season began again. In that same tradition, the Food Conference is a time to come together, to gather in, to listen, to learn, and to celebrate through the darkest time of the year as the Hanukkah candles shine brightly outward.

My blessing for all of us is to really listen in this season of joy and to honor our ancient witnesses, the heavens and earth. Amidst the floods and droughts let us heal our relationship with ourselves, with the land, and with God. Sukkot is the final harvest festival before the cold and hopefully rainy (or snowy) winter months. As Jews, we have a special responsibility to right ourselves to make way for a successful growing season. What can we do to play our part? Let us not only pray for rain with our words but with our actions. May the entire planet be blessed with a year of the right amount of rain in the right time. Chag sameach!

Jess Berlin is JOFEE Manager at Isabella Freedman and one of Hazon’s JOFEE Fellows. She is thrilled to be the lead staff planning the Hazon Food Conference, December 28th to January 1st. Jess grew up in a family of yogis, restaurateurs and food manufacturers, where cooking and gathering around large rowdy tables was an essential part of her life. Read her full bio here.

*American Jewish World Service is collecting donations for immediate relief and support for the long-term recovery for Haiti.

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Parashat Nitzavim & Rosh Hashanah

Editor’s Note: Welcome to D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog! Most weeks throughout the year, you’ll be hearing from the JOFEE Fellows (and staff): reflections on their experiences, successful programs they’ve planned and implemented, gleanings from the field, and connections to the weekly Torah portion or Holidays and what they’ve learned from their experiences with place in their host communities for the year. This one is from me, Yoshi, Director of the JOFEE Fellowship. Views expressed are the mine and do not necessarily represent Hazon. Be sure to check back next week for Zach Goldberg’s post on JOFEE and Yom Kippur!  

P.S. Interested in being or hosting a JOFEE Fellow? Applications for cohort two are now open for both prospective fellows and prospective host institutions! 

You all know the big one coming up this week: Rosh Hashanah. The Head of the Year, when we begin the High Holiday season full of heart-beatings and introspection, good food, wine, and cheer followed by the Yom Kippur fast. This week is also Parshat Nitzavim – the Torah portion from my Bar Mitzvah.

Much of that weekend is a blur at this point, twenty years later (wow, that just sunk in – twenty years!). One memory that’s crystal clear, though, is my Rabbi’s speech to me on the pulpit, his send-off for me into Jewish adulthood. Reflecting on my decision to formally convert, to become a Jew by Choice in the months leading up to my Bar Mitzvah, he shared with me words from Nitzavim, spoken by Moses to the people Israel: I set before you Life and Death, the Blessing and the Curse. Choose Life, that you and your progeny may live. (Deut. 30:19)

That choice, to choose not only life at large, but a Jewish life, has empowered me in my entire Jewish journey. And in some way it’s at the heart of not only my personal JOFEE journey but the essence of what JOFEE is all about. The outdoors, food, farming, the environment – are these not all intricate elements of living in full relationship with the earth and that which brings the world to life around us? With the relationships we as humans and Jews have with other living things, in all their complexities? And what does it mean to choose life, the blessing – especially when we know that there’s a very direct connection in Jewish tradition to farming and the curse in our expulsion from Gan Eden of having to work the land, to till the soil, to bring forth food only with the sweat of our brow, and the ache of our muscles?

For all the hard work (and farming is hard work – ask any Adamah or Urban Adamah fellow or Farm Apprentice at Pearlstone or Eden Village!) farming is a fundamentally co-creative act, the combined efforts of human effort and intellect alongside the natural processes and ecologies that make growing food possible. Might this mean that with a simple choice, with a shift in our vision, a curse can be transformed into a blessing? After all, what is compost but the re-cycling of nutrients from that which has died into the soil to provide for new life?

At Rosh Hashanah, we begin the journey through Yom Kippur into Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret, and Simchat Torah, and then towards winter and darkness – the rainy season in Israel, the season of snow-covered dormancy in much of North America. Plants retreat, animals dig in and hibernate, the snow muffles, and the bustle of the Sukkot harvest makes way to the quiet meditation of winter. We know – or at least we have faith – that spring will return, flowers will bloom, the harvest will grow again. Life will renew. The world will once again transform itself.

Jewish practice and peoplehood looks very different in 2016 than it did in 1916, very different on the eve of 5777 than the eve of 5677. Many think it’s changed for the worse. I don’t think anyone denies that it’s undergone some radical transformations. The question is: what seeds are stirring under the ground even when things may appear to have grown dormant on the surface? What new fruits are emerging in this new century? JOFEE is one, blooming in new communities all around the US – including and especially those infused with the presence of our 17 amazing JOFEE Fellows tilling and planting the literal and figurative soil. And we don’t shy away from the major issues confronting us – climate change, political uncertainty, social and environmental injustice. Rather, we root ourselves ever more deeply in the Jewish soil that birthed us, and grow ever stronger as the JOFEE ecosystem around us proliferates and diversifies. In the JOFEE world, we strive to create healthier and more sustainable communities for all God’s critters – Jewish and non-Jewish, human and non-human alike. We choose life. For us and for all those to come.

Shana Tova U’metukah, and l’Chaim!

Yoshi Silverstein is Director of the JOFEE Fellowship. He loves every season in its own time, but notes that winter is the only season in which he can go skiing.

P.S. Guess who also read this week’s Torah portion? President Obama, that’s who! The President, amazingly, closed his moving eulogy to Shimon Peres with the same verses of Deuteronomy noted above, and continued: “Uvacharta Bachayim. Choose life. For Shimon, let us choose life, as he always did. Let us make his work our own. May God bless his memory. And may God bless this country, and this world, that he loved so dearly.“

The post Choosing Life | D’varim HaMakom: The JOFEE Fellows Blog appeared first on Adamah.