Written by Alex Weisz

Parashat Vayaytze begins with Jacob’s dream of the ladder to Heaven. As the Angels rise and descend between this world and Heaven, God stands next to Jacob and blesses him. Upon waking up, Jacob exclaims “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the abode of God, and that is the gateway to heaven.”

While Jacob’s remark is certainly in response to his interaction with Divinity, we certainly can relate to his sentiment. All of us, at some point in our lives, have experienced the phenomenon of radical amazement, coined by the great Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. This can be experienced in a few central ways - interpersonally, from the birth of a loved one or having an amazing connection with a stranger; sensorily, from eating an incredible meal or seeing something astounding; finally, from recognizing the small, daily miracles, like appreciating waking up to a new day. For some of the greatest moments of awe in our lives, many of us can think of times that we were astounded by something in nature. Whether it was the glorious heavens while looking up at the night’s sky, seeing the ocean for the first time, or watching a nature documentary, you certainly cannot forget those moments. For me, I immediately think of the glorious Court of the Patriarchs in Zion National Park in Utah - three massive mountains that resemble glorious standing figures, named for Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Regardless of the cause of that moment of radical amazement, we can certainly understand Jacob’s reaction! In those moments of awe, we are lifted spiritually up that ladder, overwhelmed by the experience and it can take an extended period of processing to recognize the significance of the moment. This is the same way that Jacob recognizes the implication of the interaction with God only after awakening the next morning, which then causes him to state the above proclamation.

Though traditional Judaism, particularly the Chassidic movement, is legendary for its moments of exaltation, in truth, the disciplined rigor of Jewish observance keeps practitioners in a routine state of awareness, with smaller, occasional moments of awe. Having attended a university minutes away from the beach, I can attest that even the most amazing views can be taken for granted when experienced too often! Jewish prayer, in its wisdom, recognizes this reality of human nature - it is easy for us to take the incredible blessings around us for granted! To Rabbinic Judaism and its thrice-daily prayer routine, spiritual uplift is not a black or white affair - there is a world of gray that keeps observant practitioners within its ebbs and flows, instead of the binary of mundanity and exaltation. 

Nevertheless, it is clear that we need to experience an awakening of the collective conscious regarding the majesty of God’s creation! It is clear that we have taken for granted that, in the words of the Psalmist, וְיִמָּלֵא כְבוֹדוֹ אֶת־כֹּל הָאָרֶץ אָמֵן וְאָמֵן׃ “God’s glory fills the whole world, Amen v’Amen!” If we are not awake to the Divine origin of all things, we cannot revere, protect, and sustain the blessing of our world and God’s glorious creations. The foolish notion peddled in our society today that holds faith at odds with science is a tired one - in truth, awareness of the glorious biodiversity of our world, the majesty of our natural resources, and fighting to protect them is a spiritual and moral imperative. Anthropocentric theology, such as the Prosperity Gospel that promotes wealth and consumption as Divine blessing, or the Classical Liberal Economics that promotes the false idol of endless economic growth are blasphemous schools of thought that besmirch the holy name of HaShem Yitbarach.

May we raise our voices high in praise of our world and its creator! May we fight for its long-term sustenance, as it has so dutifully sustained us! May we look to the Torah and its wisdom to find our solutions - as it is written, “Out of the ground the Lord God made every tree grow that is pleasant to the sight and good for food...The Lord God commanded the man, saying, "Of every tree of the garden you may surely eat.”

Animal agriculture has decimated our natural resources, caused the senseless slaughter of billions of livestock ending the short, cruel life of each individual creature. It accounts for more greenhouse gas emissions than all methods of transportation worldwide, combined, while being the leading cause of deforestation around the world - the pivotal carbon absorbers our world so desperately needs. Abandoned fishing gear makes up half of all plastic in the world’s water supply - a supply so large that it will outweigh the world’s fish population by mid-century.

What is our solution? To awaken and remind ourselves of, in the words of Jacob, “how awesome is this place!” Like Jacob, we must not only stand alongside God - we must walk with God in the path of righteousness, compassion, and forgiveness.

Wishing you all a Shabbat of awakening, joyous exaltation, and change of action for the better.

Shabbat Shalom.

​​​​​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of Shamayim: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.

Written by Alex Weisz

“Who is wise? One who recognizes the consequences of their actions.” -Pirkei Avot

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Toledot, a new generation of our ancestors face the perils of a famine - this time, it is Isaac & Rebecca. Despite this, Isaac is blessed by God with an abundant harvest, providing him with considerable wealth, which the Philistines envied. Tensions between the “haves” and the “have-nots” become particularly elevated when the optics suggest that nothing was done differently by the recipient to have earned the disproportionate levels of wealth and resources than their struggling neighbors. All the more so is this true during times of heightened desperation, such as during times of environmental disaster. This resentment can escalate into attempts to sabotage the good fortunes of the privileged, which we most certainly see in the Philistines’ plugging up Isaac’s wells, which had been dug by his father’s servants. In response, Isaac relocates, digs more wells, and sees identical plenty, followed by retaliation from his neighbors. The whole process repeats another time - upon which the Philistines make peace with Isaac, now understanding that Isaac’s bounty despite the famine is from divine origins.

However, before we find ourselves overly sympathetic to the Philistines, they destroy the sources of water multiple times before forcing Isaac to relocate and start again. Eventually, they argue with Issac and simply take over the land and wells instead. Each time Isaac departs a settlement, God’s blessing goes too, rendering the wells useless. Though the Philistine’s frustration with Isaac is understandable, resorting to sabotage and intimidation is not a productive solution to their desperation. With that said, it is not until peace terms are made that Isaac even welcomes the Philistine leadership to his table, let alone aiding their poor and most desperate - extending his blessing to those who needed it most. Isaac’s passive approach certainly does not improve the situation for anybody involved. It is only once he is approached by Abimelech to make peace does Isaac extend hospitality and generosity to the Philistines. Had he taken a more direct approach from the start, Issac could have de-escalated the situation much sooner. Perhaps this is why Rebecca was such a good fit for the passive Isaac - she, like Abraham, was quick to go to great lengths to extend help to a stranger (see last week’s dvar for a further analysis of Rebecca’s noble generosity), and perhaps this is why she, not her husband, was informed by God directly of the prophecy of Jacob’s supremacy over his elder twin brother Esau.

Furthermore, let’s contrast Isaac’s gifts of peace with the two gifts given by Jacob to his slighted brother Esau. Isaac only extends gifts and hospitality following making peace with the Philistines - somewhat odd, considering that Isaac could have utilized this approach to make peace instead of relocating 4 times. Twice we see Jacob open his hand to his brother Esau - however, the two approaches used by Jacob are radically different. In the first instance, Jacob uses food he cooked to extort his elder brother into surrendering his birthright (additionally, he uses his culinary prowess to manipulate his father into blessing him instead of his brother). Following multiple decades of being manipulated while in exile, the changed Jacob, now Israel, is proactive with his generosity, preceding his potentially life-threatening reunion with Esau with such gifts, honoring Esau above himself by identifying the gifts as being from “Your servant, Jacob” - very similar language used by their grandfather, Abraham. Ultimately this proves successful, as Esau runs to embrace Jacob, weeping at their reunion.
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Though Jacob’s gift of peace takes place years after taking Esau’s birthright, when given the opportunity to confront his vengeful brother, his alacrity to offer him humble gifts of peace prove to be far more effective than their father’s passive approach with the Philistines.

We should learn from Isaac’s needless headache! The climate crisis is here and will continue throughout our lifetimes. Rather than adopting a prolonged, tense approach between those with and without means, we must brace ourselves for the coming disaster with open hands and hearts to swiftly aid those less privileged than ourselves. Environmental injustice is one and the same as economic injustice, therefore our approach should be strategic and forward thinking, in the spirit of adult Jacob with Esau and Rebecca with Eleazar, instead of reactive, as in the case of Isaac with the Philistines. As the years pass, our ability to reshape our society to brace ourselves for the coming disasters diminishes - which will cause far more destruction to our environment and economy than the upfront, forward thinking investment into a sustainable economy.

Will our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren be thankful that we tightened our belts and innovated to ensure a secure world and society for them - or will they lament our inaction which sealed their doom? Will we reject fossil fuels, animal agriculture, and plastics, on individual and society-wide levels, in our day-to-day lives to ensure a future for ourselves and future generations? Or will we, like Isaac, just cross our fingers and hope everything works out in the end? 

Let us humbly and honestly ask ourselves: are we climate deniers, or do we just act like them?

We Jews are not known as the children of Isaac; we are not even known as the children of Jacob. We are B’Nai Yisrael - children of Yisrael, the older, wiser, and kinder Jacob. May we live up to that title by humbly submitting to the dangers ahead, opening our hands to those who need it, and proactively building safeguards in case we are faced with the worst possible outcomes. For if we are defeated, at least we will be standing on two feet, instead of surrendering decades earlier.

Shabbat Shalom.

​​​​​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of Shamayim: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.

Written by Alex Weisz

Among contemporary society’s darkest plagues is the political polarization that exists - not just in politics, but in just about every area of life. The progression of the 24-hour news cycle to the explosion of social media has cultivated a festering wound within our social consciousness. A culture of “roasting” and “trolling” to sew discord exists in all walks of life, rendering things that were, at one time, entirely non-controversial, polarizing. Critical thought has reached its most toxic, with good-faith discussions becoming increasingly few and far between.

In the philosophical discussions that surround animal welfare, especially as it pertains to the consumption of animals for food, a common trope arises: the idea that one should not prioritize combating cruelty towards animals over cruelty towards humans. Even the great Rav Kook, among the most famous proponents of plant-based Judaism, warned of this phenomenon. Nevertheless, this week’s Torah portion may give us an opposing view to this notion.

In this week’s parsha, Avraham commands his servant to find a wife for his son Yitzhak. Tasked to find an appropriate partner for Yitzhak to continue the covenant with, Avraham’s servant creates a test for any potential wives - not only did she need to offer him water, but also for his camels following the long journey. The wisdom behind this was incredible - potentially from Divine origins (see verse 24:12). Not only would a woman worthy to continue the line of Avraham need to be generous and hospitable towards other people - she would need to be generous and hospitable towards all creation, including animals.

The Torah notes that as soon as the servant declares this test, our matriarch Rivkah arrives to the spring to fill her jar of water. Upon being asked for some water, Rivkah passes the test perfectly by offering water for the servant, as well as for his camels. Furthermore, she then invites him and his camels to stay at her family’s home - displaying the same hospitality of her father-in-law and uncle.

What does this teach us? Ultimately, the concern for the welfare for animals and other people are not mutually exclusive. Quite the contrary, in fact - regardless of the recipient, open-heartedness is open-heartedness; compassion is compassion; justice is justice. Logically speaking, isn’t it far simpler to apply these virtues to all of creation, rather than limiting them to specific recipients? Throughout the social justice landscape, Jewish and secular, we find that many leaders, activists, and supporters of all sorts of issues are beginning to adopt a plant-based diet - and yet, far too many continue to ignore the crimes of the animal agriculture industry. Unfortunately, too many socially-conscious folks neglect the injustices towards animals, and conversely, some vegans and vegetarians are satisfied with their righteous dietary contribution that they neglect other areas of social justice. In truth, however, compassion for some is more difficult to maintain than compassion for all, so long as we open our eyes.

Even from a pragmatic standpoint, we find that now more than ever, the connection between animal welfare and human welfare are one and the same. In the age of the climate crisis, fueled by the animal agriculture industry even more than all of the world’s transportation methods, compassion towards animals is very much a solution and prevention to current and future injustices towards our fellow human beings. If we do not swiftly adopt preventative measures, millions of people risk displacement - furthering the challenges of mass immigration, which can be met with the same cruelty and dehumanization that refugees face today. We would be able to produce even more food for a growing human population with far less wasted resources and destruction of natural habitats - all while dramatically lowering greenhouse gas emissions and terminating the wasteful and inhumane factory farming industry.

Judaism encourages gentleness - to ourselves, to other people, and to the natural world. It began with our ancestors, and we have the opportunity to lead in this incredibly perilous time for our people and our world. We cannot rely on solutions one-by-one - we need many comprehensive solutions to be adopted by millions of people.

It may sound cliche, but it is true: love, justice, and compassion for all things really is the answer. May we follow in the footsteps of our mother Rivka, and open our hands and hearts to all of God’s creation.

Shabbat Shalom.

​​​​​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of Shamayim: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.

​​​​Written by Alex Weisz

In this week’s parsha, Avraham establishes the morning prayer service, as it is written: “In the morning, Avraham stood in the place where he had stood before the LORD” (Genesis 19:27). Since the days of the Talmud, this verse has been the basis for the daily morning prayer service, established by the patriarch of our people. Jewish prayer is referred to by the Hebrew phrase avodah she’ba’lev - literally “service of the heart.” Avraham was deemed worthy of the covenant between humanity & God because of his loving service to Divinity. Nevertheless, we see this manifest in two radically different ways throughout three central narratives in this week’s parsha, Parashat Vayera. 

First, we see Avraham as a righteous, generous soul as he rushes to attend to the three angels who come to visit him disguised as regular humans. Avraham is recovering from his circumcision that concluded last week’s parsha, nevertheless he is quick to offer generous hospitality to these strangers. Generosity & hospitality are very holy dispositions that are central to anyone seeking to walk in God’s ways, as it is written “You open Your hand and You satisfy the needs of all living things with favor” (Psalm 145:16). Soon after, God confides in Avraham the intention to destroy the cities of Sodom & Gomorrah for their greed, lust, and cruelty - to which Avraham, in turn, challenges God to not destroy the cities if there are at least ten righteous people within them. Nevertheless, Avraham’s advocacy is for naught, as the city is destroyed, apparently signifying that there were not even ten righteous people worthy of redeeming the others.

Following this incident, we see a very different Avraham: a submissive servant, who does exactly what is instructed to him by God - to sacrifice his favorite son & heir, Yitzchak. Though Avraham is stopped at the very last second, sparing Yitzchak, this is a radical shift in Avraham’s character! Perhaps dejected from the perceived failure of his defense of Sodom & Gomorrah, Avraham stays silent and does what is asked of him. Though he is rewarded with a blessing following this incident, there is a more subtle outcome - God never speaks to Avraham again.

When we fight for righteousness & justice, we serve as Avadim HaShem - servants of God, seeking to bring more light in a complicated world. In this role, we all have much to learn from Avraham - we should go out of our way to be giving warmly, generously, and lovingly. This must be done both in the literal sense of attending to others’ physical needs, as well as in the way that we treat all of creation - be it other people, to animals, and to nature. Furthermore, we must be outspoken when we see a potential injustice! Avraham appealed to God’s capacity for compassion when it came to potentially innocent people in the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. The righteous, courageous chutzpah required for this cannot be understated - Avraham literally challenges the Divine will! Avraham earned this rapport with God through his character, by walking in God’s ways of compassion, forgiveness, and humility - and therefore he manages to get God to agree. 

It is from here that we must learn from Avraham’s mistake - how we respond to perceived failures. Despite his righteous activism, there simply were not the ten redeeming innocents in the cities. Avraham, a lover of people, clearly felt a sense of responsibility and guilt by this outcome, even if he knew it was out of his hands. Therefore, when the most morally challenging task imaginable is asked of Avraham to carry out himself, he is silently complicit in carrying out his duty - effectively ending his career as a prophet, drowned by his perceived inability to make a difference. 

The legendary UCLA basketball coach John Wooden z”l, would often quote this anonymous poem:

“Before God's footstool to confess A poor soul knelt, and bowed his head; “I failed,” he cried. The Good Lord said, “Thou didst thy best—that is success!”

Walking the path of righteousness can be dejecting and lonely, the crises seemingly insurmountable - but our resilience must be maintained! Prolonged dejection is the anchor to drowning in the sea of indifference, cynicism the cruelest ailment of humanity. Thus warned Dr. King “The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people, but the silence over that by the good people.”

We live in dark times - occasional frustration will happen as the road to righteousness and justice is a steep uphill journey. It may seem like nobody cares, so why even bother? Beware my holy sisters and brothers! That creeping dejection is your yetzer hara, the evil inclination within every human soul that seeks to trick people into not doing the right thing. We must be diligent of this! For even the great Avraham can succumb to the seemingly benign spiritual tumor of dejection and despair.

The Jewish mystical tradition has a custom of reading the chapter of the binding of Isaac during every morning service, as a reminder of Divine compassion. Perhaps we, the voices of justice & compassion, should adopt this custom - as a daily reminder of the perils of dejection and self-doubt. Being the outspoken voices of love & righteousness can be an exhausting existence - nevertheless, it is our duty, our very purpose! The road is hard, the resistance is great, but may we be the emissaries of Divine Truth with joy, love, and warmth! May we keep the words of the great Rebbe Nachman with us at all times: “It is forbidden to despair!” 

Shabbat Shalom.

​​​​​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of Shamayim: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.

Written by Kohenet Sarah Tziporah Moser

When my stomach dropped upon hearing my phone “ding” with a local emergency alert two Fridays ago, it was out of remembered trauma, not out of surprise. Evacuations advised, yet again, for my town of Forestville, for my old workplace’s town, even the next city over. As the hours passed, our advisories turned to mandates, and more towns were included, until nearly all of Sonoma County was in gridlock on the freeway headed anywhere else. The reason was the Kincade Fire, which sparked in Geyserville, just eighty miles north of San Francisco. The fire was blazing violently and bearing down on hundreds of thousands of peoples’ homes and livelihoods. The remembered trauma lighting up every nerve in my body was caused by my community being regularly beaten down by increasingly catastrophic environmental disasters over the last few years. But what do we do when the land to which we belong is not a safe place to live? In a small detail in Lech Lecha, the parsha for this week, Abraham and Sarah experience exactly this. G-d leads the family to the land of Canaan, a holy place where they will be safe and provided for. But upon arriving there, they immediately evacuate due to famine.

The Tubbs Fire, in late October of 2017, caused a similar mass evacuation, and led to the complete loss of over 5,600 homes and buildings. Twenty-two people were killed, and many lost everything. Homemade sheet-flags hung from the freeway overpass semi-permanently: “Thank you, First Responders!”, “#SonomaCountyStrong”, and “The Love in the Air is Thicker than the Smoke”. The following autumn saw the Camp Fire, which destroyed nearly 19,000 homes and buildings in nearby Butte County, killing an estimated 85 people. Many elderly folks lost their homes and all of their possessions.  When the evacuation orders were lifted, they returned home to a flattened landscape that they would never see recover in their lifetimes. California communities are now regularly fractured by massive loss of property and human life. I came to California looking for home and a new start, directed, I believed, by G-d. But what do I do now that this land is less and less hospitable to human life?

When I graduated college on the East Coast, I felt the call to move west. I had been a dedicated vegetarian since the age of 3, and I had been an animal-loving nature-worshiper for decades. Soon after moving, I transitioned fully to veganism, unifying inseparably my spirituality and my love of nature. I escaped to the forest to pray among the trees; I went camping on weekends; I watched spiders creep around my ceiling for hours. As I embroidered myself into the Jewish environmentalist community in the Bay Area, my Jewish identity and my environmental activism deepened as my sense of home increased.

In the parsha Lech L’cha, G-d famously tells Abraham to go forth from his birthplace to an as-yet-unknown land that G-d would show him. Based solely on his faith and trust in G-d, Abraham is led into the mystery based on G-d’s word. Abraham has work to do in the Promised Land, the land of Canaan, and G-d would take care of him and his family there. But Abraham, Sarah, and Lot experience a deep famine in the land of Canaan. As soon as they arrive, they must leave. The natural disaster of famine forces them to Egypt to seek help. This is notable — Abraham and his family had barely even entered Canaan before they were driven out due to terrible famine.

I felt the call to move West and I trusted G-d. I was led to a place of community and love — where I could meet deeply spiritual friends over organic veggie burgers at urban farm hoedowns. But as my time here went on, and as the novelty of this environmentally progressive place wore off, the underbelly of industrial agriculture in this state was revealed. I started forming community in Southern California, which brought me to bi-monthly drives down the I-5 freeway. Once you leave the city of San Francisco en route to Los Angeles, or vice versa, you begin to see and smell some upsetting things. The first time I experienced driving past the Coalinga exit and one of the biggest feedlots in existence, the stench hit me just before the tears. I wanted to pull over to cry, but I didn’t want to linger in this hellscape. I fought the urge to look away as my eyes met those of thousands of cows, huddled together in unsettling density, in a “field” of mud and excrement. They looked overweight, discolored, and ill; they were distressed. The macabre and horrific scene of animals in pain is just one example of the ranches that make up 38 million acres of land in California. In the state, there are 1.78 million dairy cows and 600,000 beef cows on any given day.

The promised place I came to now feels angry. The land has been over-grazed; desertification is spreading. The millions of cows in California each need to drink between twenty and thirty gallons of water per day. They need to eat between twenty-five and fifty pounds of grain per day, depending on size, which takes up even more acres of land to grow with water that is less and less abundant. As has been proven, greenhouse gases such as methane (which is much more powerful than CO2 in absorbing heat and thus damaging the atmosphere) are hastening climate change, which causes extreme weather — unseasonable winds, heat, low humidity in the summer, and devastating, overwhelming rains that flood the hard ground in the winter.

Horrific fires, devastating storms, and floods are no longer an imaginary or potential future event. Extreme and disastrous weather events are happening right now all over the world — not just in the United States. Factory farming, especially the resource-heavy industry of meat & dairy production, is unsustainable and extremely dangerous for the health of the earth. G-d said to Abraham, as G-d said to me, leave home and go forth to a new land — one that I will show you. But what do we do when that land becomes unlivable?

My prayer is for more people to wake up to the reality of factory farming and livestock production. Instead of spending money supporting the destructive meat industry, support local organic vegetable, fruit, and mushroom farmers. Shop at businesses that support the life of all creatures and sustainable, small-scale agriculture. The cost of animal agriculture may be our lives.

We are witnessing the evidence of the climate catastrophe. The solutions are before us — the question is whether we will choose to use them before it is too late.

“The LORD saw how great was man’s wickedness on earth... and the LORD regretted having created humanity on earth, and God’s heart was saddened...The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with lawlessness.” - Genesis 6:5-6, 11 
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Last week’s parsha saw the world created, while this week’s parsha the world is destroyed - for the most part. Ten generations of humanity’s cruelty had disappointed God, and it was time to start over by washing away all of humanity and the other land animals. Noah is selected to restart the human race, thus he is instructed by God to build an ark to save himself, his family, and representatives from all of the land and air animals. This is a fitting job for the new first man, as the Torah is unambiguous of humanity’s foundational purpose as the caretakers of the world.

Though there is much to say about this parsha as it pertains to animals and the world, I found myself fixated this week on God’s rationale for the flood: the wickedness, corruption, and injustice of God’s creation. Certainly many are alarmed by how quickly God resorts to nearly destroying all life on earth - however, perhaps there is some Divine Wisdom to be imparted to us in our time.

Having been made in God’s image, humans have been given the capacity for creation. Through our ingenuity, our race can make incredible things happen by finding creative solutions to the problems that plague our world. Unfortunately on the flip side, that same ingenuity can be used in the ways lamented by God just before this parsha, that “every plan devised by [people’s] mind[s] was nothing but evil” (Genesis 6:5). Though this week’s portion includes God’s promise to never destroy humanity again, we can use our own inner divinity to determine when some of our own creations are too wicked, corrupt, and unjust to continue. Even well-intentioned human creations may eventually run their course and need to be terminated entirely! Though we are blessed with the gift of ideas does not mean that this blessing always leads to good.

From factory farming, to plastics, to fossil fuels, various human-made creations that were meant to improve society can be unintentionally toxic. Though humans have the capacity for wisdom, long-term consequences can be difficult to predict. I was very fortunate to visit my family in Southern California last Shabbat, and all 3 of these industries have led to my home state trashed and aflame. Nevertheless, it is my hometown’s claim to fame that is making headlines for its cruelty & negligence - and after a century of injustice, wickedness, and corruption, it is clearly time to shut down our civic icon. 

I grew up in sunny Arcadia, California, a beautiful suburb located in the San Gabriel Valley of Los Angeles, in the shadow of the Santa Anita Racetrack. One of only a dozen or so Jewish families in the entire town, some of my earliest memories of my Jewish life are driving past the racetrack on our way to synagogue. I spent many long summer days at the neighboring mall; I used to skateboard with my best friend Ali in its parking lot; all of my siblings and cousins graduated from Arcadia High School at the race track; I attended many bar mitzvah parties and weddings in its luxurious suites. In addition to our residential peacocks and the legendary Arcadia High School Marching Band, Santa Anita was about as iconically Arcadian as it gets.

That nostalgic image was first punctured in 7th grade history class during our unit on city history. Ours is a predominantly Asian community and learning that the Santa Anita’s stables were converted into Japanese Internment camps during World War II was a harrowing realization. I had learned all about the camps built by the Nazis in Europe, so to find out that Japanese people had been forced into camps in my own neighborhood was chilling. However, it was portrayed to be as the darkest underbelly of the city, an outlier of evil in the innocent history of the racetrack. Though movies and television made references to horse racing’s inhumane disposal of injured thoroughbreds, it took many years for the thought to cross my mind that these industry standards were implemented in my hometown.

In 2019 alone, 36 horses have been euthanized following injuries sustained racing and training at Santa Anita. According to the California Horse Racing Board’s own reporting, in the 2017-18 season, Santa Anita saw 44 horse deaths. In 2016-17 it saw 65. Despite the recent news coverage, the rate of horse euthanizations following non-fatal injuries is not suddenly higher - in the last decade, Santa Anita has reported 545 euthanized horses. Many of these injuries are sustained on their light front legs, bred by humans for speed, but too small to handle the heavy weight of these powerful animals. These injuries are easily sustained, but not easily fixed, especially not in a way that would lead to a return to the track - rendering even legendary horses worthless financial investments for their owners. Rather than continuing to pay for stables & food, euthenasia is the industry standard for minor, common injuries.

These are living beings, disposed of needlessly in the name of financial gain of their owners. Imagine if your average NFL or NBA player was slaughtered for a torn ligament or a twisted ankle. As an Arcadia transplant to Las Vegas, I know very well the mighty corruption of the gambling industries - but slot machines and craps tables are children’s games in comparison to the carnage brought forth by thoroughbred racing.
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At 17 I led the Arcadia High School Marching Band & Colorguard from the Santa Anita Racetrack down Baldwin Avenue as the Drum Major, an extremely prestigious leadership position. In front of my entire community, I led our 400-piece army of musicians, the pride of our city, past the iconic racetrack, as my family, including my uncle, the mayor at the time, looked on. Standing alone in my all-white uniform in front of a sea of red ones, I had never been so proud of my hometown. 

Now I just wonder how many horses were slaughtered that day.

I truly understand the sadness in God’s heart, the disappointment in something so near and dear. I am revolted by my hometown’s willful blindness to these crimes. Though I cannot know if it will take place, I know for sure that it is far past due for Santa Anita’s century of wickedness, corruption, and injustice to be permanently ended. This human creation’s existence can no longer be justified.

Please consider signing this petition to end horseracing euthenasia.

You can reach the California Horse Racing Board at (800) 805-7223.
You can reach Arcadia Mayor Sho Tay at [email protected]
You can reach Arcadia’s Congresswoman, Judy Chu, at (202) 225-5464
You can reach Arcadia’s State Senator, Susan Rubio, at (916) 651-4022
You can reach the Santa Anita Race Track at 626-574-7223.
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Shabbat Shalom.

Alex Weisz Arcadia High School, Class of 2014

​​​​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of Shamayim: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.

Among the most prevalent literary motifs within Bereshit is sibling rivalry: Isaac & Ishmael, Rachel & Leah, Jacob & Esau, Joseph & his brothers. Family dynamics are constantly at play in the book of Genesis, especially considering that all of humanity originates with the primordial family of Adam & Chava. Unlike the above examples, which conclude with reconciliation, the original sibling rivalry ends in tragedy, when Cain murders his younger brother Abel.

What lead to the first bloodshed of humanity? Like the sibling tensions that follow, it originates with preferential treatment of one sibling over the other, and the jealousy that follows. It all takes place early in chapter 4 of Genesis, when the brothers bring their respective offerings to God. Cain, a farmer, brings produce from his harvest, while Abel, a shepherd, offers a choice lamb. Abel’s meat offering was accepted by God, whereas Cain’s offering was ignored. Though God reassures a dejected Cain, in the very next verse he appals God by murdering Abel.

There is much to be said about this dramatic narrative throughout history. Many have used it to justify the consumption of meat as even God considers it to be more pleasant than plant produce. Even the great Rav Kook, among the most famous advocates for religious veganism in Judaism, cites Cain’s fratricide to be the reason for the eventual concession of meat consumption following the Flood. Kook views meat consumption as an outlet for humanity’s inherent capacity for cruelty and destruction, as it was Cain the farmer, not Abel the shepherd (who had to sacrifice a lamb of his flock) who became the first murderer of another human. Kook notes that although humanity will one day unanimously return to entirely plant-based sustenance through moral and spiritual uplift, a hasty return to this through a halakhic mandate before addressing the many examples of human-on-human cruelty could result in increased cruelty between humans, as the welfare of animals was prioritized over the welfare of people - as seen with Cain & Abel.

However, a simple reading of the text clearly dismisses this interpretation. The Torah notes on numerous occasions how pleasant God finds the smell of animal sacrifices, that does not change God’s intention for humanity to live exclusively on plant produce - the commentators state that it is obvious that Abel would not have eaten any remaining parts of the sacrifice! This is not difficult, as numerous biblical texts clarify that God has neither need nor interest in animal sacrifices. Rather, God yearns for humanity’s recognition of the majesty of God’s creation and handling it with such reverence. Certainly concern with the welfare of animals and other human beings are not mutually exclusive, as the Torah commands both! This is clearly the context for God’s comforting words to Cain following his attempted offering: “And the LORD said to Cain: Why are you distressed, and why is your face fallen? Surely, if you do right, there is uplift. But if you do not do right, Sin lurks at the door; Its urge is toward you, Yet you can be its master.” 

In our time, this consoling message should resonate with the righteous of our generation, who practice the Divine quality of “uplifting the downtrodden” through activism of all kinds. While doing the mitzvah of pursuing justice, it can be easy to lose patience with others and to judge them with an inflated ego. Likewise, it can be emotionally draining and frustrating that others do not or choose not to recognize obvious injustices and to change their behaviors. This can cause us to rebuke people, whether strangers or loved ones, without compassion. Not only is this most often counterproductive to the greater pursuit of justice, it is a violation of the Torah, as it is written: “You shall not hate your brother in your heart; you may certainly rebuke your friend, but you shall not bear a sin on his account. You must not bear a grudge against your fellow; you shall love your fellow as yourself, I am HaShem”. Attempting dialogue with anyone on an issue must be approached with love and compassion, even if those qualities are not given in return. This is the only method of effective communication, as the recipient will not feel judged or disrespected, while your righteous message will not be undermined by causing legitimate harm to another person. In the fight for righteous compassion and loving justice to all of God’s creation, we must make sure that the holy attributes at the foundation of our activism is not compromised in our frustration and lack of patience. 

Let God’s warning to Cain serve as a parable to all of us: we cannot despair in this fight! For if we do, there are consequences: we may burn out and stop fighting altogether; we may promote our message in a hostile and counterproductive way; worst of all, Heaven forbid, we may lose sight of the humanity of those who do not immediately join us in our endeavor. Just as Cain’s attempt at doing something right lead to him committing an atrocity, our attempts at righteousness may lead us to strained relationships, resentment, and dehumanization.

As vegans, we can often struggle with creating an illusion of in-group/out-group regarding eating a plant-based diet. After all, one does not eat vegan - one is a vegan. Intended or not, this often makes non-vegans feel like they are somehow inferior, rather than causing them to be willing to engage with why the action of plant-based eating has merits. Perhaps this, too, can lead folks to feel like Cain, inferior as a result of their life decisions by being identified as an inferior other. This can lead to vegans and other so-called “social justice warriors” as being portrayed as smug & self-impressed naysayers, instead of nice people who make intentional choices to oppose blatant injustices. When we despair and project our frustration at the slow pace towards change onto others, our attempts at lifting them up instead result in us tackling them. 

The great Sage Hillel taught that one who lacks patience cannot teach. May we all avoid the impatient temptations of Cain, choosing instead to follow the leadership style of Moses, our teacher: an imperfect, but humble leader who led his occasionally stubborn and rebellious people on the unnecessarily long road to redemption.
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Shabbat Shalom.

​​​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of Shamayim: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.

Written by Alex Weisz

“And the LORD said to [Moses], “This is the land which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, ‘I will assign it to your offspring.’ I have let you see it with your own eyes, but you shall not cross there.’ So Moses the servant of the LORD died there.” - Deuteronomy 34:4-5
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In this week’s Torah portion, the final reading of the annual Torah reading cycle, we hear about the final actions of Moshe Rabbeinu’s life. Moses gives his final blessings to the tribes of the Israelites, then makes his final ascent upon Mount Nebo to overlook the Promised Land before he passes away. In addition to being a ripe one hundred and twenty years old, Moses was forbidden to enter the land after a prior lapse of faith with God. After 40 years of leadership, Moses led his people up until their very entry into the Promised Land. 

It is certainly worth asking - how could Moses carry on his leadership duties while knowing that he wouldn’t  be rewarded with entering the Promised Land? He was not allowed to reap the benefits of his labor as a punishment. How could he go on leading the Israelites without any personal motivation to continue doing so? After all, Moses notes on numerous occasions that the Israelites are a difficult bunch. Certainly fear of further Divine punishment is an understandable motive; nevertheless, Moshe is heralded in the final verses of the Torah as being the greatest prophet and leader of Israel, so there must be a reason beyond this. Ultimately, it is his love of his people, specifically the younger generations that will have the opportunity to enter the land, that allowed Moses to continue his giving leadership in spite of his punishment.

There is a story in the Talmud​ of the scholar Honi, who finds a peculiar sight while traveling down the road: an elderly man planting a carob tree. Puzzled, Honi asked the man how long it will take for the tree to bear fruit, to which the man answers that it will take 70 years. Bewildered, Honi asks the man if he is certain he will live another 70 years. The man replies that he will not; rather, he is planting the tree for future generations to enjoy its fruit. Walking away, Honi soon decides to take a nap. Ultimately, Honi is protected by a tent of rocks and sleeps for 70 years. Upon waking, Honi sees an old man picking carobs from the very same tree! Honi asked the man if he is the one who planted the tree. The man turns to him and answers no, that his grandfather was the one who planted it for him.

Jewish tradition teaches us that we must be mindful of future generations! We cannot be simply concerned with ourselves & our immediate families - we must consider those who live long after us. We live in perilous times: not only are we beginning to see the true effects of climate change, steps taken by humanity in the next few decades will determine the severity of the effects of climate change for the next few centuries. Steps must be taken on all levels, as individuals, as families, as communities, and as countries. Unfortunately, the sense of urgency regarding the climate crisis is generational. A 2018 Gallup poll indicated that Americans age 55 and up are far less concerned about climate change than American adults between the ages of 18-34. We all have a role to play in combating the climate crisis, from reducing our individual carbon footprint through radically reducing or eliminating our consumption of fossil fuels, animal foodstuffs, and plastics, to supporting politicians who will take the most comprehensive steps to shift our economy away from these poisonous industries. I am scared, as are most of my peers - but it is my youth group teens and my religious school students who are entering a world facing ecological collapse that they had nothing to do with. I was born just before Clinton’s re-election, giving me the ability to roll up my sleeves and fight as a young man, capable of voting and making environmentally-conscious economic decisions. These folks won’t have that ability for several years, at which point it will be too late for the most comprehensive policy initiatives to take effect. 

Earlier this year, the UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change reported that limiting global warming to 1.5 degree Celsius, rather than 2 degrees by the end of the century (which has long been the international goal) will make a massive difference in reducing the effects of the Climate Crisis. They estimated that, if done so, half as many people would face water shortages, hundreds of millions of fewer people would experience extreme heat waves, and the ability for staple crops like corn, rice, and wheat to grow much better, preventing massive food shortages - just from a half a degree Celcius by the end of the century. They noted that this is possible, but it would take a 45% reduction of 2010 greenhouse gas emissions by 2030. The panel gave a deadline of approximately December 2020 for sweeping policy to take effect for that goal to remain possible. That means personal & political action must be taken now. With an election taking place in 2020, there is no more time for corrupt climate deniers to be making decisions about the environment and the economy. Failing to choose a leader who will make dramatic, sweeping eco-economic decisions tears apart any slight possibility of a happy ending to this story.
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I was born in 1996. B’ezrat Hashem I may be fortunate to live long enough to look from the mountaintops and see the 22nd century in the distance. I want to return to My Maker knowing, as Moshe did, that future generations are in good hands, and that I did everything in my power to ensure that. If we simply maintain the status quo and do nothing, the odds are low that I will live to see retirement. I am soon to be married, and, God willing, a father not long after that. If we only manage to somewhat reduce emissions in this coming decade, there is little hope that my children will live to see their retirement, let alone my grandchildren. Even those of you who support the fight against climate change, but don’t want to do anything too “radical”, I beg of you - look at it from my shoes. Consider the younger folks in your life and what the projected implications are for them. Last summer, a New York Times poll revealed that 11% of people who do not want to have children cited climate change as their reason, while a recent poll from Business Insider found that 30% of Americans agree that the potentially life-threatening effects of climate change should be factored into the decision to have children.
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My ability to grow old with my beloved soon to be wife, and to leave this world with healthy & happy children and grandchildren, is in jeopardy. Despite spending plenty of time in prayer to God, I pray to any and all of you hearing this: I can’t do this alone and I need your help. We all truly need each other to work in lockstep on this issue. Before you fire up your propane grill to cook your next steak or cheeseburger, before you fire up your gas-guzzler to make a trip around the corner, before you pull the lever on a candidate who wants to take half-hearted steps (or none at all) to address climate change, I pray to each and every one of you: consider what you’re doing to me and my peers, to my future children and their peers. Consider the view that you will see as you stand upon the mountain-top and overlook the world that future generations will be faced with. Rebbe Nachman taught that “it is forbidden to despair!” My brothers and sisters, there is no time to despair, for each step we take today and in the coming years will make all the difference in the decades that follow.

May we all take the steps in the coming months to make sure that our future rests will truly be at peace. Shabbat Shalom.
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​​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of SHAMAYIM: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.

“On the first day you shall take the product of hadar trees, branches of palm trees, boughs of leafy trees, and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before the LORD your God seven days. You shall observe it as a festival of the LORD for seven days in the year; you shall observe it in the seventh month as a law for all time, throughout the ages. You shall live in booths seven days; all citizens in Israel shall live in booths, in order that future generations may know that I made the Israelite people live in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt, I the LORD your God.” - Leviticus 23:40-43

Now that the exhausting spiritual intensity of Yom Kippur has passed, the Jewish people are very quickly required to prepare for celebration and joy during the festival of Sukkot. There is much that could be said about this rapid shift in tone. Perhaps the waving of the lulav & etrog are a reflection of the spiritual & emotional whiplash of the calendar! In many respects, Sukkot is the polar opposite of Yom Kippur - but in truth they are intimately connected.

Sukkot are constructed and lived in each year for 7 days, a reflection of the Israelites’ temporary shelters while in the wilderness during the 40 years between slavery and entering the Promised Land. In that time, the Israelites are completely dependant on G-d for their physical needs, living entirely on manna provided from Heaven each day in the barren desert. Though agriculture is less directly given from Divine origins, the Torah goes out of its way to remind readers that plant agriculture was created explicitly to provide food for humanity and other animals. Therefore expressions of gratitude are necessary for the gifts of delicious fruits and vegetables!

Nevertheless, there is something ominous about these intentionally temporary structures. We are required to be joyous! This is easy to do when we eat meals with family and friends within our sukkot, but it is also a mitzvah to sleep in the sukkah. We must leave the comfort and security of our so-called permanent homes and remain somewhat exposed to the nighttime elements. It is among our most natural human instincts to be afraid of the dark - we are confronted by our limitations as non-nocturnal animals, and we may be left feeling somewhat uneasy about the unknown.

From a physical standpoint, we may be concerned about our immediate surroundings, whereas from a psycho-spiritual standpoint exposure to the great outdoors may leave us wondering about the great mysteries of our existence. The irony here is notable, and likely intentional: while living in their Sukkot, the Israelites were being cared for by the Creator of Heaven & Earth directly, however they most certainly had fears, concerns, and doubts during their decades-long limbo between slavery and liberation. So too are we surrounded by symbols of joy and plenty - and yet, we are exposed to the mysteries of the night, literally face-to-face with the heavens which must be visible through the sukkah roof.

During Yom Kippur, we reject all material reality and directly appeal to God’s mercy. Days later, we celebrate the divine gifts of fruits and vegetables that sustain life - and at night, we are reminded of God’s mercy, protection, and comfort within our temporary stay in this world. Just as we appeal to God’s mercy, compassion, and openhandedness, Judaism teaches us to emulate God’s goodness within this world. Cruelty, wastefulness, and selfishness are the polar opposites of God’s, and humanity’s, holiest traits. Though we may give ourselves the illusions of self-sufficiency through our homes, cars, “disposable” goods, and exploitation of animal agriculture, in truth, these illusions are the very poisons that will terminate the very gifts of creation that sustain humanity. Sukkot is a reminder that we are partners in creation with God - though we have made considerable strides in understanding the operating processes of nature, humanity’s arrogance has constructed a metaphorical idol of ourselves.

Sukkot reminds us of the truth of our vulnerability. It humbles us so that we are reminded to express gratitude for the gifts of this world - rather than pimping it for our own illusion of profit. Sukkot reminds us to open our hands to the true gifts of this world, especially the fruits and vegetables that were created for our sustenance, as it is written in chapter 2 in the book of Genesis: “And from the ground the LORD God caused to grow every tree that was pleasing to the sight and good for food...And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, ‘Of every tree of the garden you are free to eat’” (Genesis 2:9,16). All of humanity is vulnerable to the unknown, and therefore compassion, lovingkindness, and unity must be extended to one another, especially from those with greater prosperity and privilege than most. 
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Sukkot forces us to remember that we are a part of nature, a part of creation. Though we are made in God’s image, acting as tyrants of this world is entirely contrary to that Divine Image. Natural resources are not commodities that can be bought and sold for the highest prices until we run out of them. Divine Wisdom did not intend for the most populous bird in the world to be a monstrosity, genetically perverted by big business in the last 70 years to be bred with bodies that cannot survive for more than a few months until it's skeletons and internal organs are crushed by the weight of their enormous breasts, thighs, and wings. Divine Justice does not smile upon hundreds of thousands of these wretched, heartbreaking creatures forced to live in a single filthy warehouse. In the eyes of the True Judge, the small mercy of exposure to the outdoors, of which the amount of time and space are entirely unspecified by government regulations, is negated by the industry tripling the price of the meat. Expensive lobbyists and legal representation have no say in Heavenly Court - whether in this world or the next, fossil fuel, agriculture, and plastics executives will answer to justice one way or another. Their mutually-beneficial profitization of the destruction of God’s creation will not be settled out of court. The Source of Life is not in need of campaign contributions.

A simple reading of the Hebrew Bible unambiguously promotes approaching anything and everything with three traits: compassion, justice, and humility. May we all be reminded this Sukkot of the blessings of sustenance that we already have - fruits, vegetables, grains, and legumes - as well as our collective responsibility as a species to be compassionate and gentle towards each other and all of Creation. Unless if we quickly recognize the lack of justice, compassion, and humility within the industrialized world and rectify it with open hands and deflated egos, soon we will reap the destruction that has been sown in the last century.

May the spirit of Teshuvah continue as we are reminded of the blessings we so easily take for granted. May the grandeur of nature move us towards the righteous necessity of sustainable living through renewable energy and plant-based eating.

Shabbat Shalom & Chag Sameach.

​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of SHAMAYIM: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.

Our father Abraham was chosen by G-d because of his hospitality - a secondary characteristic, a byproduct of several foundational characteristics. To be properly hospitable, one must be thoughtful, considering the needs of one’s guests as much (if not more so!) than the needs of oneself - thoughtfulness, in turn, requires humility and compassion, two very holy traits. Furthermore, to be truly hospitable, one must be loving and generous - without these key attributes, a host is little more than a server or attendant. Rather than exchanging “hospitality” for money, one must be giving without expecting anything in return except for the guest’s company! In truth, a far more rewarding gift.

Like so many admirable characteristics, it is far easier to understand true, genuine hospitality than it is to execute it - after all, Abraham and his descendants were given unique status by the Creator of Heaven and Earth as a reward for this trait! Nevertheless, hospitality is an easily-understandable trait - even with a sense of obligation or exchange of reward, being a good host is widely understood by society at large.

What is less frequently discussed is what it means to be a good guest. Some people may feel overly bashful or embarrassed as guests, and seek to avoid overly burdening their hosts, even to the point of rejecting genuine generosity from a host who worked tirelessly to offer a great experience! Others may be far too comfortable as guests, overstaying their welcome, taking more than what is offered, and overstepping to the point of genuinely burdening their hosts. These guests hold a sense of entitlement and are overly accepting of hospitality to the point of rudeness. 

A good guest, on the other hand, graciously accepts what is offered to them without overextending their hosts. A good guest expresses gratitude for the hard work and generosity of their hosts. A good guest offers to assist their hosts appropriately, and knows when to back off to avoid imposing self-righteousness upon their hosts. Like so many fine qualities, being a good guest is about balance - not too much, not too little, a reflection of Judaism’s centrist worldview regarding personal traits. Certainly we can all think of examples of good and bad guests in our lives, as well as times that we have been either or both of these guests!

In the midst of the chaggim, when many family and community plans are being made, we all should be considering how to be the best hosts and guests we can be! But we must not stop there - we must consider how to be the best guests we can be in our temporary home, our world, which we and the last 3 or 4 generations have sent into rapid decay. We have done so by extending far beyond the hospitality offered to us by Our Host. Rather than living according to our needs through G-d’s hospitality, we eat far beyond our fill, and fill our pockets as much as we can, leaving millions of other guests without enough for their own needs. A small percentage of folks have scraped beneath the floor and have chipped away bit by bit into the foundation of our proverbial house to burn the material for fuel. Not only has that small percentage of guests done this hideous crime, but they have tricked all of the other guests into believing that they cannot live comfortably without it! Furthermore, much of this fuel is wasted by cruelly imprisoning some of the earth’s other guests, forcing them to eat and breed beyond their physiological capabilities, only to be slaughtered for food a fraction into their expected lifespan. Another scheme by the worst guests in the house, who further enrich themselves by convincing the other guests that they can only survive by eating the products of their crimes, rather than the wonderful food provided by the Ultimate Host. The structure of the house is threatened, and the fumes threaten the ability for any of the guests to survive living there! The problem is that there are no windows to open to let out the fumes, no doors for the guests to escape, and no other homes for the guests to survive in.

Thank G-d we have the opportunity to repent and rectify the situation! We have the chance to control the fires, to reinforce the foundation, and to end the outrageous disparities between the cruel, blasphemous greed of the worst guests and the vast majority of the others. We know what we must do in order to make sure that the house can remain inhabitable and thriving, instead of allowing it to burn down by maintaining the status quo. What will it take? Supporting with our dollars and votes the endeavors of the good guests, who have found and created the solutions - renewable energy & plant-based diets, as well as the politicians committed to solving the climate crisis and holding the worst guests accountable - instead of denying the impending doom for ourselves, our children, and our grandchildren.

The great Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, Z”L, said that “In a free society, some are guilty, all are responsible.” We have to take multiple approaches, both as individuals and as a species, as soon as possible to make sure that the Host even has a house to welcome guests into. Though all of our stays in this house are temporary, we are on a fast track to ensuring that the house is permanently inhospitable for all life. As swiftly as we can, we must reject furthering the problem by supporting fossil fuel and animal agriculture tycoons with our dollars, and transition to plant-based living and renewable energy. It is our duty as Jews, and it is our duty as humans.

Not only are we Jews the descendants of Abraham - we are also B’Nei Nevi’im, the children of the Prophets, who were the voices and vehicles of Divine truth, even when it made those around them uncomfortable. We are meant to be a light among the nations, the catalysts for righteous change in the face of impending doom! May we accept this call in the darkest hour of our people’s history - without a planet to survive on, there will be neither Judaism nor a State of Israel. We must reject our lustful, violent urges and accept animal agriculture’s role as one of the most egregious offenders in this crisis! Forget ideological purity - mass extinction or a sustainable future are our only options.

On Rosh Hashanah, our fates our written, and on Yom Kippur, our fates our sealed. We know what we must do in order to survive - but we must act swiftly and comprehensively, for the ink is drying quickly. May we do what we know we must do this year, for even the Book of Life itself is beginning to burn.

Shanah Tovah & G’mar Chatimah Tovah.
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​Alex Weisz is the Content Manager of SHAMAYIM: Jewish Animal Advocacy. He is a Jewish educator in Las Vegas, NV, and is a Rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California.