O pinion
Climate Change Emergency Demands a Jewish Response
BY JAKIR MANELA AND NIGEL SAVAGE
“Who shall live and who
shall die … who by water and
who by fire … who by earth-
quake and who by plague ...”
TWENTY YEARS AGO,
people cried when they said
these words on Rosh Hashanah,
six days after the attacks of Sept.
11. The ancient words suddenly
held intense contemporary force.
Twenty years later we are
being bombarded by climate-re-
lated disasters, one after another
— each year worse than the
last — and again our ancient
machzor, the High Holidays
prayerbook — carries fresh,
urgent force for all of us.
Who by water? On the
16th anniversary of Hurricane
Katrina’s horrific impact in
New Orleans, another monster
hurricane tested the rebuilt
levees, cut off power and left
catastrophic damage. Then the
storm traveled up the East Coast
causing widespread tornado-like
conditions and massive floods,
killing at least 24. All this just
months after hundreds died in
Germany due to unprecedented
flooding. Who by fire? Raging wildfires
everywhere: in California,
Oregon and Canada; in Greece,
Italy, Turkey and Russia.
Californians confronting
dangerous air quality for
months at a time, year after year.
Eerie red-orange skies, smoke
cascading across the continent,
impacting cities as far away as
the East Coast.
Who by plague? COVID
reveals just how fragile we are —
as individuals and as a society
— and how it is always those
most vulnerable who lose the
most amid crisis.
Hundreds of thousands of
American Jews entered these
High Holidays having been
deeply moved and inspired by
Jewish environmental educa-
tion, action and advocacy over
the past 20 years and more.
Our rising tide movement faces
this historic inflection point in
a deeply Jewish and universal
posture. The IPCC Report,
published just last month, makes
clear that things are going to get
worse before — if — they get
better. Confronting this crisis seems
monumental — because it is. So
much so that individuals might
believe there is nothing they can
do in the face of forces that have
transformed life on the planet so
quickly and negatively.
This crisis is so enormous,
so global, so existential, many
of us wonder how much our
individual, institutional and/or
communal actions can help turn
the tide against such a tidal wave
of climate disasters.
We hear you. And we cannot
promise you what the future
will bring. But we can promise
you that by investing in a deep,
universal cultural change across
the Jewish world, we will be part
of the solution — in the same
way that victory gardens were
part of the World War II effort
70 years ago and tzedakah boxes
helped launch and defend Israel
throughout the 20th century.
Of course we must fight
for aggressive political and
economic responses as well
— both of which become
more achievable as we build
a passionate, committed
Jewish climate movement that
transcends ages, denominations
and geographies.
During these Days of Awe,
we must face this crisis while we
face our own norah, our fear that
it may be too late.
In the spirit of the holy days,
with a commitment to repen-
tance, prayer and justice, we ask
you to join us in doing three key
things, which together make up
the Brit Hazon, a commitment
to change:
Change your behavior. Drive
less. Ride your bike more. Eat less
meat. Use less energy at home,
in your vehicle, in everything
you do. Rosh Hashanah calls
us to return to our best selves
through teshuvah, repentance.
It challenges us to own our
mistakes and pushes us to do
better in the year ahead.
Give. Time, money, advice,
in-kind services and/or other
support. So many inspiring
leaders and powerful organiza-
tions are working around the
world to respond to the climate
crisis. When you consider
giving tzedakah this season,
please consider donating to
any Jewish environmental or
general climate organization
on your radar. Give wherever
you feel called, but please give.
This is a global emergency of
epic proportions. We need your
support now more than ever.
Support systemic change. It is
time for Jewish communities and
institutions across the country
— synagogues, day schools,
camps, federations, JCCs, Hillels
and countless others — to
summon the will and leadership
to join the hundreds of Jewish
institutions that have blazed this
trail for many years by priori-
tizing sustainability and caring
for creation as a fundamental
Jewish value. When institutional
leaders commit to the Hazon
Seal of Sustainability, we embark
upon a multi-year journey
together as partners, integrating
Jewish environmental education,
action, advocacy and adapta-
tion into your community/
organization. In every age group,
demographic and organi-
zational structure — from
b’nai mitzvah experiences to
capital campaigns to interfaith
partnerships and everything
in between — we must rise
up to confront this challenge
with the full might of our
institutions, our culture, our
communities and the power
of Jewish wisdom, ethics and
spirit. This Rosh Hashanah also
marked the beginning of the
shmita year, quite literally a
supersized, yearlong Shabbat —
an end and a beginning, a time
to look back over the last period
and forward to the next.
So may this Rosh Hashanah
inaugurate a year of Jewish
communal reflection, facing the
full threat of this crisis and our
unique responsibility to take
action for everyone alive today,
and for our children, grandchil-
dren and many generations to
come — in America, in Israel
and worldwide. These actions are
inspired by a great love, a deep joy,
hope and faith — and powerful
communities that together will
spark a Jewish cultural renais-
sance interconnected with a
global transformation toward a
brighter future for our people
and all people everywhere.
The Jewish people have a long
history. Our ancestors endured
unspeakable suffering and
calamity, then rose to meet the
next challenge. In this moment
we can do no less. l
Jakir Manela is the CEO of Hazon,
and Nigel Savage is the founder
and former CEO of Hazon.
Feel the Presence, Absence of 9/11 Victims 20 Years Later
BY JESSICA RUSSAK-HOFFMAN
14 SEPTEMBER 16, 2021
Two nights after the Twin
Towers fell on 9/11, we were
instructed to evacuate our
building. There was talk of a
potential attack on the nearby
Empire State Building. My
roommates and I covered
our mouths and noses with
towels to protect against the
still-fetid air and walked east
from our midtown Manhattan
Stern College apartment to
get out of the danger zone.
Every telephone pole was
plastered with hastily printed
“MISSING” signs, each with
a different smiling face and a
phone number to call.
At the corner, right where
the barricades met the Bellevue
Hospital Center, two lines
formed behind folding tables
on the sidewalk.
“What are these lines?” I
JEWISH EXPONENT
asked a state trooper.
“One to give the name of the
missing person and check to see
if they’re in the hospital. The
other to provide DNA,” he said.
Indeed, there were people
in the lines clutching Ziploc
bags of hair brushes and tooth-
brushes. As the days passed,
the line for the hospital names
grew shorter, and the DNA line
grew longer. The missing were
presumed dead.
So when I traveled from
Grand Central Terminal on
Friday to spend Shabbos at the
University of Pennsylvania I was
mortified to hear someone at
Hillel joke: “Some guy trying to
leave his wife is for sure faking
his death right now.”
I said nothing. I was still in
shock from the attacks, but this
tragedy was not mine, either. I
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM