A Yom Kippur Reflection on the Place We Call Home

Now that the Jewish holidays are upon us, Fallsburg Future is publishing an appropriate essay by guest writer, Pam Wagner of Loch Sheldrake, who reflects on deeper meanings behind Yom Kippur.

(An abridged 700 word version of this essay appeared as a Letter to the Editor in the Sept.18th edition of the Sullivan County Democrat.)

Dear Friends and Neighbors

         The High Holy Days are approaching. For those of us who were raised Jewish, this time of year carries a particular weight. We arrive at Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of a new year, and then move toward Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Yom Kippur is not simply a day of fasting. It is a day of looking inward, acknowledging where we have gone wrong, considering how our actions affect others, and asking what it means to make things right. This year, when I think about Yom Kippur, I keep thinking that the concerns facing our town belong to our entire community. We are here all together: Jews, Christians, Muslims, other faiths and non-observers, longtime families and newcomers; farmers, business owners, developers, homeowners and people who simply want a quiet place to raise their families. We may live very different lives, but we all drink the same water, depend upon the same roads and infrastructure, breathe the same air and live upon the same land. Ultimately, we share the same future.

         There is a temptation, whenever government regulations become inconvenient, to see them as obstacles — a permit, a zoning regulation, a water restriction, a building code or an environmental review. But civil laws are, at their best, society’s attempt to establish rules so that people with competing interests can live together. Without them, those with the greatest resources, influence or willingness to ignore the rules can impose their choices upon everyone else. That is not freedom. That is power. Jewish tradition understands that human beings need boundaries. The Torah is filled with laws because a community cannot exist on desire alone. There are obligations, limits, responsibilities and consequences when rules are ignored. Civil law and Jewish law are not the same thing, but they share an important principle: Our actions do not just affect only ourselves.

         One of the earliest teachings in the Torah comes from Genesis, when G-d places Adam in the Garden of Eden with two core responsibilities: to work it and to guard it. While we have the power to cultivate, build and grow, we are also commanded to protect and conserve it. That is a very different philosophy from believing that because something belongs to us, we may do absolutely anything we want with it. Fallsburg is not simply acreage on a development map. We have farms, forests, streams, wetlands, groundwater, aquifers, rural roads and infrastructure, and all have limits. We cannot simply wish our way past those limits. Nature always gets the final vote.

         Water does not ask what religion you practice. A well either produces enough water or it doesn’t. An aquifer either replenishes at a sustainable rate or it doesn’t. A sewer system either has the capacity to handle additional demand or it doesn’t. These are physical realities, not political opinions. When resources or infrastructure are pushed beyond their capacity, consequences do not disappear. They are simply transferred to taxpayers, neighbors, farmers, families whose wells are affected, or future generations who inherit the cost of decisions made today. That is why responsible development is a community responsibility.

         The Torah gives us another simple teaching: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Jewish tradition asks more of us than simply being kind; it asks us to consider how our actions affect another person. We cannot only ask, What do I want? We also have to ask, What happens to my neighbor because I got what I wanted?  When an individual’s development project creates private wealth but compromises a neighbor’s water, shifts infrastructure costs to taxpayers, or burdens the public, where does personal freedom end and communal responsibility begin? This is not about stopping development. This is about how a community functions.

         Perhaps this is why Yom Kippur feels particularly relevant. Jewish tradition, including the teachings of Maimonides, makes an important distinction regarding wrongdoing between people. Yom Kippur does not simply erase harm done to another person. Where we have caused harm, we are expected to seek forgiveness and make amends. Repentance requires repair. When our actions have harmed another person or the community, we have a responsibility to do what we can to make it right. When we discover that something we have done has damaged the land, water, infrastructure or our neighbors, perhaps the first question should not be, How do we defend ourselves?  Perhaps it should be, How do we repair the damage?

         There is another teaching from Leviticus that deserves our attention. G-d says: “The land is Mine; you are but strangers and sojourners with Me.” We speak constantly about my property, my house, my land, my development, my business and my rights. Property rights matter. But Judaism reminds us that ownership is not the end of the conversation. Ultimately, the land belongs to G-d. We are temporary stewards. We arrive, build our homes and businesses, raise our families and eventually leave the land to someone else. That means we have inherited something we did not create, and we have an obligation to leave it capable of sustaining those who come after us. This should matter enormously in a place like Fallsburg.

         There is a difference between building a community and consuming a community.  There is a difference between welcoming people and overwhelming the systems that support them.  Fallsburg must not lose its rural character, the mountains, farms, open land, water and quiet that make this place worth living in. A community without sufficient water or functioning infrastructure is not a successful community. It is a warning. The argument is for responsible development. There is room for people, families, farms, businesses and growth. But there must be room for responsibility. Maybe the questions shouldn’t be, “Whose community is this?” or“Who belongs here?” It should be: “How do we belong here together?” How do we protect property rights while protecting the rights of neighbors? How do we encourage economic development without sacrificing the resources that make that development possible? And how do we make decisions today that our children will not have to regret tomorrow?

         Yom Kippur is a day of humility. It reminds us that none of us are perfect, have all the answers or get everything right. Perhaps this is what Fallsburg needs right now: the humility to recognize what we share. We all want to live here and want our children to have a future here. We all need: to respect one another; need clean and sufficient water; need functioning infrastructure; need the law to mean something and most importantly, we all need to respect the land that sustains us. 

         We do not own this world; we are merely the people entrusted with “our garden” for a short time while serving as its temporary stewards. This is what I hope we can carry into Yom Kippur this year. Not a demand that everyone believe as I believe or live as I live; but merely a shared hope that we can recognize something larger than ourselves and honor our responsibility to care for the world we inherit and leave behind.

         There are laws written in our town code and laws written in the Torah. But there are also laws written into the natural world itself. We cannot repeal, vote or pray them away. The water, the land and the infrastructure have limits. Our time here has limits. The question before all of us is not simply what we have the right to do. More importantly, the question is: “What are we responsible for leaving behind?” One day, someone else will inherit Fallsburg. They will drink from these wells, walk these roads, farm this land, look up at these Catskill Mountains and live with the decisions we make today. This is the deeper meaning of atonement. It is not simply saying, “Forgive me.” It is having the courage to say: “I see what I have done. I understand who and what it affects. I am willing to do what is necessary to make it right.” This is the lesson for our community.

Fallsburg's Future is a community network of concerned Fallsburg residents established in January 2016. Its Mission is to help guide the urban development of the town of Fallsburg and its five hamlets, to promote its sustainable economic development, protect the fragile beauty of its natural habitats and enhance the opportunities and quality of life for all its residents and visitors. We hope to curb the suburban sprawl that is threatening to overwhelm the town’s physical infrastructure and destroy the natural beauty that the area depends on for its future development. See us on Facebook and our website Fallsburgsfuture.com.