(יט) כִּֽי־תָצ֣וּר אֶל־עִיר֩ יָמִ֨ים רַבִּ֜ים לְֽהִלָּחֵ֧ם עָלֶ֣יהָ לְתׇפְשָׂ֗הּ לֹֽא־תַשְׁחִ֤ית אֶת־עֵצָהּ֙ לִנְדֹּ֤חַ עָלָיו֙ גַּרְזֶ֔ן כִּ֚י מִמֶּ֣נּוּ תֹאכֵ֔ל וְאֹת֖וֹ לֹ֣א תִכְרֹ֑ת כִּ֤י הָֽאָדָם֙ עֵ֣ץ הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה לָבֹ֥א מִפָּנֶ֖יךָ בַּמָּצֽוֹר׃
When thou shalt besiege a city a long time, in making war against it to take it, thou shalt not destroy its trees by forcing an axe against them: for thou mayst eat of them, and thou shalt not cut them down; for is the tree of the field a man, that it should be besieged by thee?
כי האדם עץ השדה, מלמד שחייו של אדם אינם אלא מן האילן.
"For is the tree of the field a man," to teach you that human life could not exist without trees.
Weather is vital for survival. Without rain, food cannot grow, and without sun, we would freeze. In the past, humankind saw weather as something totally outside of human control, resorting to prayer and ritual as their only course of action under dire circumstances like drought and/or flooding. Today, we’ve learned to see the weather differently. First, we’ve learned weather is something we can and have made an impact on, for better and for worse. Second, we’ve learned that beyond the impact it can have on our physical and financial wellness, weather also can affect our mental wellness by causing a form of anxiety called “climate anxiety.”
“Climate anxiety, or eco-anxiety, is distress related to worries about the effects of climate change…and is often accompanied by feelings of grief, anger, guilt, and shame, which in turn can affect mood, behavior, and thinking.” (Harvard Medical School) Climate change has severe implications on our safety, but to rectify the impact we’ve had on our climate will require action, and that can feel overwhelming. Thankfully, the Talmud offers a model for self-empowerment in our fight against forces as seemingly unstoppable as nature.
The Talmud presents several stories about a man named Choni HaMe’aggel that outline both the courage mankind is capable of, and what’s at stake if we don’t try.
In the first story about Choni, the Talmud describes him as a righteous man who would pray for the needs of the community, such as rain in times of drought.
מַעֲשֶׂה שֶׁשָּׁלְחוּ לְחוֹנִי הַמְעַגֵּל וְכוּ׳. תָּנוּ רַבָּנַן: פַּעַם אַחַת יָצָא רוֹב אֲדָר וְלֹא יָרְדוּ גְּשָׁמִים, שָׁלְחוּ לְחוֹנִי הַמְעַגֵּל: הִתְפַּלֵּל וְיֵרְדוּ גְּשָׁמִים! הִתְפַּלֵּל, וְלֹא יָרְדוּ גְּשָׁמִים. עָג עוּגָה וְעָמַד בְּתוֹכָהּ, כְּדֶרֶךְ שֶׁעָשָׂה חֲבַקּוּק הַנָּבִיא, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״עַל מִשְׁמַרְתִּי אֶעֱמֹדָה וְאֶתְיַצְּבָה עַל מָצוֹר וְגוֹ׳״. אָמַר לְפָנָיו: רִבּוֹנוֹ שֶׁל עוֹלָם! בָּנֶיךָ שָׂמוּ פְּנֵיהֶם עָלַי, שֶׁאֲנִי כְּבֶן בַּיִת לְפָנֶיךָ. נִשְׁבָּע אֲנִי בְּשִׁמְךָ הַגָּדוֹל שֶׁאֵינִי זָז מִכָּאן עַד שֶׁתְּרַחֵם עַל בָּנֶיךָ. הִתְחִילוּ גְּשָׁמִים מְנַטְּפִין. אָמְרוּ לוֹ תַּלְמִידָיו: רַבִּי! רְאִינוּךְ וְלֹא נָמוּת, כִּמְדוּמִּין אָנוּ שֶׁאֵין גְּשָׁמִים יוֹרְדִין אֶלָּא לְהַתִּיר שְׁבוּעָתְךָ. אָמַר: לֹא כָּךְ שָׁאַלְתִּי, אֶלָּא גִּשְׁמֵי בּוֹרוֹת שִׁיחִין וּמְעָרוֹת. יָרְדוּ בְּזַעַף, עַד שֶׁכׇּל טִפָּה וְטִפָּה כִּמְלֹא פִּי חָבִית. וְשִׁיעֲרוּ חֲכָמִים שֶׁאֵין טִפָּה פְּחוּתָה מִלּוֹג. אָמְרוּ לוֹ תַּלְמִידָיו: רַבִּי, רְאִינוּךְ וְלֹא נָמוּת, כִּמְדוּמִּין אָנוּ שֶׁאֵין גְּשָׁמִים יוֹרְדִין אֶלָּא לְאַבֵּד הָעוֹלָם. אָמַר לְפָנָיו: לֹא כָּךְ שָׁאַלְתִּי, אֶלָּא גִּשְׁמֵי רָצוֹן בְּרָכָה וּנְדָבָה. יָרְדוּ כְּתִיקְנָן, עַד שֶׁעָלוּ כׇּל הָעָם לְהַר הַבַּיִת, מִפְּנֵי הַגְּשָׁמִים.
§ The mishna taught: An incident occurred in which the people sent a message to Ḥoni HaMe’aggel. This event is related in greater detail in the following baraita. The Sages taught: Once, most of the month of Adar had passed but rain had still not fallen. They sent this message to Ḥoni HaMe’aggel: Pray, and rain will fall. He prayed, but no rain fell. He drew a circle in the dust and stood inside it, in the manner that the prophet Habakkuk did, as it is stated: “And I will stand upon my watch and set myself upon the tower, and I will look out to see what He will say to me, and what I shall answer when I am reproved” (Habakkuk 2:1). This verse is taken to mean that Habakkuk fashioned a kind of prison for himself where he sat. Ḥoni said before God: Master of the Universe, Your children have turned their faces toward me, as I am like a member of Your household. Therefore, I take an oath by Your great name that I will not move from here until you have mercy upon Your children and answer their prayers for rain. Rain began to trickle down, but only in small droplets. His students said to him: Rabbi, we have seen that you can perform great wonders, but this quantity of rain is not enough to ensure that we will not die. It appears to us that a small amount of rain is falling only to enable you to dissolve your oath, but it is not nearly enough to save us. Ḥoni said to God: I did not ask for this, but for rain to fill the cisterns, ditches, and caves. Rain began to fall furiously, until each and every drop was as big as the mouth of a barrel, and the Sages estimated that no drop was less than a log in size. His students said to him: Rabbi, we have seen that you can call on God to perform miracles and we will not die, but now it appears to us that rain is falling only to destroy the world. Ḥoni again said before God: I did not ask for this harmful rain either, but for rain of benevolence, blessing, and generosity. Subsequently, the rains fell in their standard manner, until all of the people sought higher ground and ascended to the Temple Mount due to the rain.
We have countless stories of people praying for miracles and having their prayers fulfilled on account of their righteousness, but Choni was different. It was his actions, not his prayers, that forced God’s hand and made rain come. He drew a literal line — or circle — in the sand and refused to cross it until his community’s needs were met, even if it took a few tries to get it right. As we grapple with our climate challenges, we should consider what hard lines we can draw and refuse to cross until we see the changes we need to see in our world. These can be anything from committing to lessening our household carbon footprints, using more sustainable products, supporting organizations, companies, and politicians that promote and observe eco-friendly policies, and much more. Climate anxiety is characterized by how powerlessness we can feel in the face of the power of nature, which is only heightened by the increasing natural disasters and other tangible changes we see on a daily basis. But by following Choni HaMe’aggel’s example and empowering ourselves to take action despite the enormity of the challenge, we can have a positive impact on both the climate and our mental health.
Still, our confidence shouldn’t detract from our realism. Having a tangible impact on the climate is going to be hard, and it will take time. But like Choni, we need to remember it isn’t just our well-being we are working for. In a second story, the Talmud recalls a lesson Choni learned about the value of the hard work we put into taking care of the Earth.
יוֹמָא חַד הֲוָה אָזֵל בְּאוֹרְחָא, חַזְיֵיהּ לְהָהוּא גַּבְרָא דַּהֲוָה נָטַע חָרוּבָא, אֲמַר לֵיהּ: הַאי, עַד כַּמָּה שְׁנִין טָעֵין? אֲמַר לֵיהּ: עַד שִׁבְעִין שְׁנִין. אֲמַר לֵיהּ: פְּשִׁיטָא לָךְ דְּחָיֵית שִׁבְעִין שְׁנִין? אֲמַר לֵיהּ הַאי גַּבְרָא: עָלְמָא בְּחָרוּבָא אַשְׁכַּחְתֵּיהּ. כִּי הֵיכִי דִּשְׁתַלוּ לִי אֲבָהָתִי — שְׁתַלִי נָמֵי לִבְרָאִי.
One day, he was walking along the road when he saw a certain man planting a carob tree. Ḥoni said to him: This tree, after how many years will it bear fruit? The man said to him: It will not produce fruit until seventy years have passed. Ḥoni said to him: Is it obvious to you that you will live seventy years, that you expect to benefit from this tree? He said to him: That man himself found a world full of carob trees. Just as my ancestors planted for me, I too am planting for my descendants.
Echoing the advice of Pirkei Avot, this nameless Jew reminded Choni, and us, of the eternal value of a healthy world even if we don’t see the fruits of our labor: “It is not our duty to complete the work, but we aren’t free from neglecting it.”
רְאֵה אֶת מַעֲשֵׂה הָאֱלֹהִים כִּי מִי יוּכַל לְתַקֵּן אֵת אֲשֶׁר עִוְּתוֹ, בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁבָּרָא הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא אֶת אָדָם הָרִאשׁוֹן, נְטָלוֹ וְהֶחֱזִירוֹ עַל כָּל אִילָנֵי גַּן עֵדֶן, וְאָמַר לוֹ, רְאֵה מַעֲשַׂי כַּמָּה נָאִים וּמְשֻׁבָּחִין הֵן, וְכָל מַה שֶּׁבָּרָאתִי בִּשְׁבִילְךָ בָּרָאתִי, תֵּן דַּעְתְּךָ שֶׁלֹא תְקַלְקֵל וְתַחֲרִיב אֶת עוֹלָמִי, שֶׁאִם קִלְקַלְתָּ אֵין מִי שֶׁיְתַקֵּן אַחֲרֶיךָ.
“See the work of God, for who can mend what He has warped?” (Ecclesiastes 7:13)“See the work of God, for who can mend what He has warped?” When the Holy One blessed be He created Adam the first man, He took him and showed him all the trees in the Garden of Eden, and He said to him: ‘See My creations, how beautiful and exemplary they are. Everything I created, I created for you. Make certain that you do not ruin and destroy My world, as if you destroy it, there will be no one to mend it after you.
