founded in 2000 by nigel savage, hazon has impacted thousands upon thousands of people, jewish and non-jewish, across the united states and israel as the “largest faith-based environmental organization in the u.s.” their work takes many forms and contexts over the last twenty years as they continue to be a resource and teacher to the jewish community on the path to sustainability. hazon’s mission is deeply rooted in the jewish value of tikkun olam, repairing the world, as evidenced by their mission statement: “we are in a global environmental crisis. jewish tradition compels us to respond.” calling themselves “the jewish lab for sustainability,” hazon uses jewish traditions and values, innovation, education, and community to bring environmentalism into the jewish community.  

i spoke to two people who work at hazon, wren hack, director of hazon detroit, and shamu sadeh, managing director of education at the isabella freedman jewish retreat center in falls village, ct, to talk about their work and the work of hazon as a whole. 

hazon has a presence in a number of cities across the country, including detroit. wren hack calls detroit a “lab for hazon,” where they have the opportunity to “create and execute new programs here that we believe and hope will be replicable for other communities.” they have had several events focusing on local and sustainable food, grains and beans in particular. at an event last year called “breaking bread together,” they were able to support a local farm and its regenerative farming practices by bringing in community members to learn about the grain they grow and the process of making bread, from grain to loaf. they also built an outdoor bread oven on the property and donated bags of flour and grains back to the community. another group hazon has worked with is the oakland avenue urban farm, a local nonprofit. here, hazon serves as a supporting partner, helping them to write grants and get funding for various projects. hack talked about the role of hazon in this case of asking what the community needs and making sure to really listen. hazon is mostly made up of white suburbanites, and the farm is an urban, black community organization. they focus on providing support and resources, approaching from a place of building a relationship as neighbors, acknowledging the imbalances. with the successes of these and similar programs, they are looking at how they can be replicated in other communities.  

the hazon jewish food festival is one of their most popular events every year. more than 7,000 people were in attendance in 2019. the main attraction, of course, is the food from local farms and vendors, but they also have sustainable arts and crafts, opportunities to learn about things like composting and rain barrels. it is a chance to expose many people to ideas and possibilities of sustainable food. organizations who have participated in the hazon seal of sustainability program, one of hazon’s major national programs, and received the seal of sustainability also table at the event and have the opportunity to show the community what projects they are working on. 

hack also spoke on the seal of sustainability. through this program, “sites” like synagogues, jewish community centers, and jewish day schools can undergo a series of audits that determine their sustainability strengths and weaknesses. from there, the site can choose an area they want to improve on and can receive a grant for $1000 to put towards a specific project. projects can include anything from changing to led light bulbs, going from plastic foam cups to glass cups, or buying local organic eggs. at the end of the year, the site is expected to take up the continuing costs, but can apply for a grant towards another project. the program also provides staff and community resources to support the effort. detroit is home to over 20 sites, with plans and funding to reach many more in the next few years. since the first year in 2016, there have been over 80 participating sites across the country. 

the isabella freedman jewish retreat center, which became part of hazon in 2014, is another major part of what hazon does. the retreat center is located in rural connecticut on 400 acres of land. the highlights of the grounds include the main building with beautiful art, cozy chairs, and a dining hall that serves incredible food, much of it grown on the farm on the property. there are cabins and more hotel-like lodging for guests to stay in, as well as a few yurts. there are trails and a lake to enjoy, and, of course, the farm and animals. they host various events throughout the year, including many centering on jewish holidays as well as yoga retreats, and other interest-based programs. 

the retreat center has been doing jewish, educational outdoor programming since 1994 when it started the teva (“nature”) learning center in conjunction with surprise lake camp. for over 25 years teva has provided thousands of jewish children with the opportunity to learn about the importance of nature and ways that they can help take care of the earth in their own lives. shamu sadeh co-founded adamah (“ground” or “earth”) in 2003 at isabella freedman. adamah is a three-month residential leadership program for jewish young adults interested in exploring the relationship between their judaism and the environment, particularly through stewardship and farming. “it was a way for us to put all these things together,” sadeh said. “intentional community, creative jewish spirituality, greening this institution, farming, celebrating [sabbath] after a week of hard work in the field, experiencing blessings over food when you’ve grown the food yourself, a real kind of do-it-yourself and empowerment oriented version of jewish community.” the jewish outdoor, food, farming & environmental education (jofee) fellowship is another similar program. fellows spend two weeks at the retreat center learning from hazon staff and field experts before going out into jewish communities where they help develop and lead programs that integrate the focuses of the program. sadeh noted the impact that the many alum of these programs have had in the international jewish community in camps, jewish community centers, and other similar settings, saying it is “[t]he biggest shift in the world we helped create.” 

one of the most surprising things to come out of isabella freedman, sadeh said, was the christian groups who have been coming to them to ask how to build something like isabella freedman in their own communities. sadeh attributes this outcome to the chapter that highlighted them in “soil and sacrament: a spiritual memoir of food and faith,” by author fred bahnson who came to the center for a week to write about it. christian groups look to them as a model of how to integrate faith, food, farming, and community and want to replicate what they have done. one relationship that has been created is with the wake forest divinity school. for two years, students were brought to isabella freedman to learn, and for the third year, sadeh went and taught at the school in their food and spirituality program. other groups include other retreat centers, a farm in the midwest looking to incorporate faith, local churches, and documentary makers, all interested in learning about what isabella freedman is doing. 

i asked both hack and sadeh what they felt the impact of hazon has been. “hazon catalyzed jewish food movement,” sadeh said, referring to the infusion of ancient values and ideas about food that the organization has brought and adapted to contemporary life. he went on to say that “people can connect to food and earth and evolve their tradition,” a sentiment that hack echoed. she spoke to the effect that hazon has through all of its different programs and locations, and all of those conversations “[have] an impact because we have an impact on thousands and thousands of people” and it all adds up, especially when they bring those conversations back to their communities and continue them. 

the climate is at a tipping point. hazon provides jewish people and communities, opportunities to take actions that not only coexists with but amplifies jewish values and living. it has built a foundation of education and community organized around shared identity, experiences, and values to address the most immediate crisis the world is facing. the potential for religious organizations to take these actions is shown in hazon’s work, and others are following their lead.

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around 60 million years ago, a large asteroid called chicxulub made impact with the earth along the coast of the yucatán peninsula of present-day mexico. the asteroid’s impact resulted in dissemination of geologically young, thin soil across the peninsula and formation of a massive underground system of freshwater cenotes, which are natural sinkholes exposing groundwater. over a thousand years ago, the maya built their main ceremonial city, chichén itzá, along the edge of chicxulub’s crater. the soil was thin, but freshwater was plentiful. to sustain chichén itzá’s large population, the maya cultivated crops through an agricultural method known as milpa.

milpa is a type of sustainable farming historically practiced by the maya in the yucatán and other parts of mesoamerica. the polyculture milpas are planted with numerous crops, such as beans, corn, peppers, and gourds, for local community consumption rather than supporting a single crop for economic value like modern monoculture commercial farms. milpa agriculture requires no agrochemicals, thus keeping groundwater clean. the ancient maya empire survived on milpa farming. some 60% of the population on the yucatán peninsula today are of maya descent, and numerous modern mayan communities practice milpa.

adolfo rodriguez, a professor at the autonomous university of chapingo, is a milpa farmer in the maya community of maxcanú. dressed in a traditional straw hat and white, long-sleeved guayabera, rodriguez proudly recounted the history of his farm. back in the 1800s, the farm was a large plantation growing henequen, an agave plant used to make twine and ropes for ships and other fiber-based products. most of the global supply of henequen, also known as yucatán sisal, came from the yucatán peninsula. demand for henequen eventually decreased due to the rise of synthetic fiber, thus the plantation converted to milpa farming.  

rodriguez walked past bright magenta pitaya, or dragonfruit, growing on small cactus-like trees between rows of short, spiky agave plants. in typical milpa formation, there were rows of different crops interspersed within rows of other crops, with ramón trees sprinkled throughout the landscape. ramón trees, whose use dates back to the beginning of the maya empire, are well adapted to the climate and distributed throughout the yucatán. rodriguez explained the strong link between the maya religion and milpa farming, which “has been the base of the culture of the maya, of the religion of the maya, of the (preservation) of the maya. (to work) in the forest, you need to ask for permission (of) the owners of the forest. you need to ask to the gods for the rain, and when the people harvest, they need to say thank you with the special rituals to the gods.”

modern maya face challenges to their milpa system. irregular weather patterns due to accelerated climate change have made predicting rainfall prior to the planting season increasingly difficult. seasonal changes to rain cycles affect crop choices and planting schedules. “the maya have different strategies to these changes,” rodriguez said. “they have different species, different seeds, for the different seasons.” however, this adapted methodology might not succeed in modern polyculture milpas. farmers determine when to plant one variety of corn based on the date of the first summer rain, and then plant other crops accordingly. delays in the initial planting due to late seasonal rains result in changes to the rest of the crops for that season.

more problematic for 21st century maya is generational loss of knowledge of milpa farming. “now the youngest people are not working in the milpa, (and) there are generational breaks in which the parents don’t want to know about the milpa,” rodriguez said. “the (grandchildren) want to know it but the parents don’t know how to manage the land, so all of this knowledge is (being lost) and the people nowadays cannot manage the land (the) way that the old people (did).” a new program teaches younger maya about milpa farming techniques and continues to pass down generational knowledge.

farmers are taking actions to make milpa farming more sustainable for the future. in traditional milpa farming, an area of forest is cleared, planted for two years, then allowed to lie fallow for eight years as secondary-growth vegetation before being replanted. by repeating this process continuously, land can be used for crops almost indefinitely. some maya farmers no longer clear new land and let their land recover for 10 to 15 years instead of eight to increase the fertility of the land for the next crop cycles. “i’m working with another 15 farmers and i am trying to figure out better ways to cultivate my crops, but (it is) very difficult because we are many farmers and not all of us want to conserve this jungle,” said don francisco puuc, a farmer and leader in his maya community of yaxunah. his goal is to adopt more organic methods and cut as little of the forest as he can.

modern milpa farmers plant domesticated varieties of native jungle species. the germplasm bank is a seed bank in the mexican state of mérida that stores massive collections of seeds and other viable plant samples, including historical collections of seeds of crops the maya have planted for generations. “if you can’t preserve the whole areas with the forest, you can preserve the seeds,” said dr. maria pulido-salas, co-director of the germplasm bank at the yucatecan scientific investigation center. the seed bank created a partnership between local farmers and the scientific team to give seeds of certain species to local farmers for planting to keep those species resilient and adapted to current climatic conditions in the yucatán. if seeds cannot be saved from harvests due to drought or other conditions, then the seed bank stock can be used for crop restoration.

milpa farming sustained the ancient maya for centuries. as modern maya adapt their ancestral farming practices to counter accelerating effects of climate change, they seek not only to preserve their traditional farms and crops, but to maintain their way of life and culture for generations to come.

historians once thought the lacandon were the direct descendants of the maya who built these now-ruined palaces and pyramids.  while the lacandon are certainly maya, the romantic theories of 20th century scholars have been largely disproven.  recent archaeological and anthropological evidence suggests they descended from several maya groups which sheltered together in the lacandon rainforest to escape the spanish conquistadors.  but while the ancient maya edifices have crumbled, other aspects of their life have remained intact. lacandon maya culture is expressed, in part, in their cultivation of traditional forest gardens.  these agroforests, probably based in large part on the agroforestry management of the ancient maya, allow them to conserve the surrounding tropical wet forest while still obtaining the resources they need.

entering a forest garden, or milpa, can be overwhelming, as it does not resemble gardens with neatly spaced rows of vegetables.  towering corn blocks out the sky.  squash vines sprawl across the ground.  bean plants spiral up cornstalks.  small trees dot the milpa, blurring the boundary between the forest and the garden.  despite seeming chaotic, the lacandon milpa is carefully designed; each crop plays a role. 

corn is the primary milpa crop.  in one of many maya creation myths, a pair of twins defeating the lords of the underworld, allowing their father to be reborn from his earthen tomb as maize.  thus, maize is the first father of the maya‒the wellspring of humanity.  the energy stored in corn kernels planted in little pits, like miniature earthen tombs, is channeled into vertical growth after germination.  this rapid growth requires a large amount of nutrients, especially nitrogen.  left alone, the corn’s growth plateaus in short order so lacandon famers apply their knowledge of environmental processes to solve the problem of nitrogen limitation. 

nitrogen is the most abundant gas in the atmosphere, but plants cannot utilize it to develop new tissues.  to overcome this, lacandon farmers plant leguminous beans near the corn.  legumes have a symbiotic relationship with rhizobium bacteria.  rhizobium can convert nitrogen gas to chemical forms plants can utilize.  unfortunately, the enzymes it uses to perform this conversion cannot function in the presence of oxygen.  so, legumes form a nodule around the bacteria to provide an oxygen-free workplace to repay the favor.  rhizobium then deposits the biologically available forms of nitrogen in nearby soil.  in turn, corn provides a trellis for the beans to reach higher for sunlight in return for the gift of nitrogen. 

squash completes the trinity.  the squash’s leaves shade the ground as a token of gratitude for the beans’ nitrogen, retaining soil moisture and shading weeds that might try to take advantage of the nitrogen-enriched soil. 

while corn, squash, and beans are the main three milpa crops, lacandon farmers plant dozens of crop species in their milpas, having developed a thorough ecoagricultural knowledge over centuries of observation and experimentation.  they burn vegetation to deposit carbon into patches of soil near tomatoes.  they plant moisture-tolerant crops like chayote in areas that pool water.  rather than removing trees which may shade out milpa crops, some are allowed to grow to attract birds and pollinators. 

milpa production eventually depletes soil nutrients, so lacandon farmers halt crop cultivation and leave it to become fallow.  lacandon farmers continue to manage these fallows by planting and clearing areas around desirable plants.  they even pin branches against timber trees so their grain stays straight, creating a sort of bonsai.  eventually, and in no small part due to the management of lacandon farmers, forests reclaim these fallows and soil nutrient levels recover.  at this point, the stand can be cleared and replanted as a milpa or left as a forest.

i dropped the brick and continued through the forest, which probably was a long-abandoned milpa. just as lacandon farmers care for their land, the milpa and forest care for the lacandon.  milpa crops provide plentiful and nutritious food.  fallows permit the lacandon gather medicinal and edible plants, cut timber and firewood, fish in streams, and hunt for wild game.   such indigenous cultures live still directly rely upon the land.  their ecosystem management conserves the environment by maintaining biogeochemical cycling and biodiversity.  they are both ecologically sustainable and productive, guaranteeing subsistence and preserving natural resources for future generations.  

a few miles away, farmers and ranchers are clearing the lacandon rainforest at an annual rate of five percent to raise corn and cattle commercially.  this form of agriculture is a war of attrition on the land: felling any trees that might shade crops, controlling weeds with harmful herbicides, spraying pesticides that kill any insect that might steal some yields, and dumping chemical fertilizers that leach into and pollute nearby water.  agriculture can be one of the most intimate ways in which we connect with nature, but industrial agriculture deforms this covenant by abusing land.  sustainability is forsaken in the name of profit.  indigenous cultures, like the lacandon, recognize that land is more than a source of resources we need to live; it is life itself.  perhaps they can teach us that our relationships with nature, including agriculture, must be based on reciprocity and goodwill rather than exploitation and control. 

i stood amidst the understory vegetation.  silver water droplets from last night’s rain glittered in the shafts of morning sunlight slicing through the forest canopy.  i waved a hand to shoo away the veil of mosquitoes obscuring my vision.  about five landed on the bare skin of my hand as i placed it back at my side.  they feasted where they had left off.  i stood unflinchingly, offering myself up to all manner of biting and blood-sucking creatures.  my jaw clenched, but i only dare wiggle my fingers to ward off the bloodsucking hordes lest i make a sound, disturb the calm of the morning, and scare off my quarry.

calm in the rainforest is a relative term.  the forest woke to a cacophony of sound every morning.  it was abuzz with cicadas’ high-pitched band-saw whines.  all manner of birds performed their harsh screeches and melodic arias.  rain pitter-pattered on its way downward through layers of vegetation.  on occasion, the resonant, throaty roar of howler monkeys sounded in the distance.

amidst the chaos, i heard a raspy, scolding call to my right.  i turned to face my accusers, but their voices gave away their identity.  a pair of red-throated ant-tanagers, a male and female, perched on a branch a few meters away and stared at me, chattering angrily about my intrusion.  i took a notebook and pencil from my pocket and jotted, “0730-habia fuscicauda; pair; 5 m.”  the two sustained their verbal assault for a few more moments before agreeing that i was either not a threat or not going to budge despite their entreaties.  they continued upon their morning foray through the forest, gossiping as they went.

i was in the lacandon maya village of lacanja chansayab in chiapas, the southernmost state in mexico. the lacandon are an indigenous maya peoples who reside in the lacandon rainforest along the mexican side of the usumacinta river, which separates the mexican state of chiapas from guatemala.  i came to study their “forest gardens,” though to call them gardens is a bit disingenuous.  lacandon maya gardens resemble neither the neatly spaced rows of vegetables or meticulously manicured lawns to which i was accustomed. rather than being a battle against the forces of nature, lacandon forest gardens, a type of agroforest, utilize and mimic natural processes and patterns in designing ecosystems that are productive and biodiverse.  the goal is cooperation, not control.

in the spirit of this equanimous relationship, lacandon farmers look to the birds to help restore the forest and regenerate soils after they use them for cultivating forest gardens.  while lacandon cultivate trees and other plant species that will provide them with food, they also plant and protect those which birds utilize for food or shelter.  rather than complain about birds consuming crops which they could eat themselves, lacandon are glad to share the bounty of the gardens they manage.  it wasn’t theirs in the first place; it was a gift from the earth.  in return, the birds help disperse seeds to nearby fallow plots where those plants do not yet grow.  this is particularly important in in rainforest ecosystems, where most species’ seeds are zoochorous, or dispersed by animals.  these species would never be able to deposit their seeds in the fertile soil of plots recovering from cultivation if not for the efforts of the birds.  some plant species are so dependent on birds for seed dispersal that their seeds will not germinate until they pass through the gut of birds, thereby degrading their hard outer shell.  biodiversity begets more biodiversity, so lacandon farmers plant a diverse array of crops in their gardens, supporting healthy bird populations.

lacandon farmers do not only manage individual plots to maintain bird populations.  the layout of their agroforestry system across the landscape may also contribute to elevated bird numbers and diversity.  while frequent high-intensity disturbance degrades ecosystems and prevents the development of diverse biological communities, the system stagnates if no disturbance occurs; its productivity and diversity plateaus.  sporadic intermediate-intensity disturbances, which lacandon farmers provide in the form clearing vegetation, rejuvenate many ecological systems, increasing the populations of many plant and animal species and maximizing diversity.   furthermore, species are each adapted to different ecosystem structures.  every species has a niche, which is the set of environmental conditions to which it is adapted and in which they thrive.  however, uniform landscapes that contain exclusively homogeneous habitats throughout offer only a few such niches.  thus, heterogeneity of different habitat types promotes and sustains biodiversity on a broad scale.

the lacandon maya are active members of their biological community.  while the sustainability of their agroecosystems depends on biodiversity, their ecological management contributes to the biodiversity of the region in turn.  so while i may build a birdhouse or two to attract birds to my backyard, lacandon farmers engineer entire ecosystems that support diverse and healthy bird populations.

i headed back along the trail to my camp, navigating through the verdant forest whose tall canopy formed open vaulted ceilings.  columns of liana-festooned cedro and mahogany trees held up the jade green dome above me, which was painted with brilliant reds and yellows of heliconia flowers and epiphytic bromeliads.  the incense of decaying organic matter filled the air and rose skyward.  glancing rays of early afternoon light shone through the leaves, casting shimmering light upon the forest floor like a stain-glass window.  a barred antshrike cackled in thick bushes at some joke to which i was not privy.

qabalah and sufi traditions hold that the language of birds is the key to understanding the universe.  perhaps we too will remember how to understand it one day and learn to build reciprocal relationships with nature that foster, rather than consume, biodiversity.