Conclusion:
the tree of life, then and now
Jewish tradition begins with trees
In the Garden of Eden, G!d plants “the tree of life” and “trees that were pleasant to the sight and good for food.” From this beginning emerges etz chaim – “the tree of life” – as a central Jewish metaphor for Torah itself. This idea is so familiar that its radical nature is often overlooked: Torah is not likened to a fortress, a law code, or a monument, but to a living tree. In kabbalistic and mystical tradition, etz chaim becomes a cosmic image in which Torah, the natural world, and life itself are bound together.
Jewish tradition also insists on protecting trees
The principle of bal tashchit (“do not destroy”), articulated in Deuteronomy 20, forbids the destruction of fruit-bearing trees even during wartime. This commandment laid a lasting foundation for ecological responsibility. Throughout rabbinic literature, trees and orchards are treated as communal assets, deserving of care and restraint.
Alongside protection is a deep tradition of planting. Modern Zionism revived the ancient bond between people and land through large-scale reforestation across Israel. As a result, Israel is one of the few countries to have ended the twentieth century with more trees than it began. (Contemporary scientists figured out that they weren’t in every case the best trees for the local ecosystem. Thus do we build on the work of those who come before us…)
Today, the climate crisis makes the Jewish commitment to trees newly urgent. Modern science has caught up with ancient wisdom: forests and trees are essential climate solutions. They sequester carbon, protect soil, support biodiversity, enhance water cycles, and provide shade that reduces urban heat. At a global scale, initiatives such as Trillion Trees and 1t.org seek to conserve, restore, and grow one trillion trees across the world by 2030.
Cities are demonstrating the necessity and impact of intentional planting: Michael Bloomberg launched MillionTreesNYC in 2007 as a ten-year initiative to plant and care for trees across streets, parks, and public and private land. By late 2015 – two years ahead of schedule – the city had planted its millionth tree, expanding its urban forest by roughly 20%.
Planting trees today offers Jewish philanthropists a powerful opportunity for impact at almost any scale. To plant a tree in the second quarter of the twenty-first century is a Jewish act, a human act, and a pro-climate act – whether in a synagogue courtyard, a city neighborhood, Israel, or vulnerable regions around the world.
Climate Forest by the Good Energy Initiative offers carbon offsetting credits from planting urban forests in Israel.
TreePeople in southern California rips up tarmac parking lots in school playgrounds and plants trees.
So we need actual trees. And we need the Torah, the Jewish tree of life. But trees are also a larger metaphor.
Our commitment to trees has been consistent across Jewish life, even as we have lived in different countries and centuries; even as we have thrived, and faced crises and catastrophes of many sorts.
Trees are there to remind us that the world is a miracle; that it is the natural world that enables all of human flourishing; and that trees and forests – like human beings, and human communities – are both vulnerable and resilient.
May each of us be inspired to do all that we can to help create a healthier and more sustainable Jewish community, and a healthier and more sustainable world for all.