Vayera; Genesis 18:16-22:24 by Rabbi Denise L. Eger

This week’s Torah portion is filled with many of the trials of Abraham. Our rabbis described 10 trials that God tested Abraham’s faith. In this week Abraham has several tests of faith including defending the residents of Sodom and Gemorrah.

This week Abraham challenges God on their behalf. Although God has determined that the residents of Sodom and Gemorrah are so sinful and so outrageous that they must be destroyed, God also determines that this information cannot be kept from God’s beloved faithful chosen one. God and Abraham have chosen each other as part of a very powerful covenantal relationship. Last week’s parasha focused on the sealing of the covenant –the call by God to Abram, Abram’s acceptance of the One God and covenant, Abram’s name change to Abraham as a sign of the covenant, the ceremony of the pieces to seal the covenant and of course, the ritual of circumcision as the ultimate symbol of the covenantal relationship.

But this week’s portion, Vayera, affirms that the relationship is not just about Abraham’s acceptance of the covenantal relationship but God’s acceptance. For God struggles to determine whether or not Abraham should be informed of God’s intention to do away with the evil cities of Sodom and Gemorrah. “Now Adonai had said, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do, since Abraham is to become a great and populous nation and all the nations of the earth are to bless themselves by him? For I have singled him out that he may instruct his children and his posterity to keep the way of Adonai by doing what is just and right, in order that Adonai may bring about for Abraham what I have promised him.” (Gen, 18:17-19)

It seems that God feels a sense not only of loyalty to Abraham, God’s loyal servant, but God expresses a sense of responsibility as well to keep the chosen servant, informed. If part of the covenantal promise is to have the descendants of Abraham multiply and bless his memory as well as glorify the One God, and Abraham’s descendants—in the guise of his nephew Lot and his family live in Sodom and are destroyed. Then Abraham might infer that God’s promise is not to be fulfilled. Why then bother to be in this unique and special and holy arrangement with God?

Thus Abraham is informed and in his typically loving and righteous way—takes God on. Abraham can’t believe that there is no one to save in the two cities. Abraham says, “Will you sweep away the innocent along with the guilty?” (Gen. 18:23). Thus God and Abraham strike a deal. Abraham bargains with God for the lives of the ten innocent people that might reside in Sodom and Gemorrah.

But of course we know the rest of the story… there aren’t ten righteous people—only the few in Lot’s (Abraham’s nephew) family are warned by the angels to leave and they do so. The cities are destroyed.

And yet this special bond that Abraham and God have forged with one another—a relationship of intimacy—where the human can actually influence and seemingly change God’s initial plan is of enormous hope for all of us. Abraham demonstrates that God wants our input. Abraham demonstrates for us that it is possible to plea for justice on behalf of others and that we have an obligation to try. In the end at least Lot and his two daughters escaped. Someone survived. And from them new nations began, Moab and Ammon. Our Talmud was right—if you save one life it is as if you save a whole world. Abraham’s efforts seemed at least to save someone. Abraham teaches us that we must try.

Torah Dedication by Dr. Marilyn Ader, October 24, 2004

Shalom. I have known Congregation Kol Ami since before the day of its birth. So I believe I can say from firsthand knowledge that today – this day –is like no other in the life of this Congregation, and frankly, it is a day that moves me to tears. As many of you know, over the 12+ years since this congregation was born from a dream, I have come before you on many occasions: Shabbat services, Congregational Meetings, Rosh Hashanah and Kol Nidre. I have spoken to you as a Board Trustee, an Officer, Committee Member, and fellow congregant. I have offered to you my thoughts from the perspective of “founding member”, “long-standing Board Trustee or Officer”, or simply the tried and true label of Kol Ami “Old Timer.” Yes, I have served many roles for this synagogue, and worn many mantles -- but none of those mantles can compare to the holy mantle before us, the one that enwraps the newly scribed, sacred Torah in our midst -- the Torah we dedicate today.

But what does this day mean to us as a Congregation? Funny you should ask that. Ever since the Rabbi asked if I would speak to you today, I have struggled with the question, and frankly I admit I can’t answer what the dedication of a new Torah means to this synagogue. Or perhaps I don’t choose to answer. Why? Because, I believe that with Torah, as with life, the answers are not important. It’s the act of asking that’s important.

On this day of dedication for our new Torah, to truly appreciate the magnitude of this event, each one of us must place into context this moment in our synagogue's life – this moment in each of our lives. For each one of us, the birth of a new Torah scroll has unique meaning. For each of us, our own experiences with Torah breathe life into each carefully formed letter. I challenge all of us in this room to replay the tapes of our lifelong memories of how Torah has touched us, and how we have touched Torah. What does this day of Torah Dedication mean to you? Only you can answer that question for yourself. And it is up to you alone to ask it.

But I can share with you what Torah means to me. What this day of dedication means to me.

In all honesty, in the early years of my life, I had little knowledge or use for Torah. My Bat Mitzvah was typical of its time, relegating me to reading a Haftorah while my brothers got the honor (whether they wanted it or not!) of chanting from the Torah. But yet I still have a very clear memory of being taught the V’Hafta and the commandments hidden within its text. That was pretty much it.

But despite the absence of Torah in my early years, the seeds were being laid in my life for the study of Torah later on. Because in my house growing up, there were always books scattered around the kitchen table. My mom and I were always researching something – what weird bird was in our yard, or perhaps what was the origin of words like “schmutz”. When my brothers came home from college, there was always a debate in the house. The issue was irrelevant. What side you took on the issue was irrelevant. It was the process that was important. Having an idea, defending it, hearing alternatives, modifying your thoughts, articulating them – and all while eating bagels and lox, whitefish, carp, and soup with knaidel! Sounds a bit like Torah Study, don’t you think?

Many years later, Torah made a grand entrance into my life, thanks to a new player in my journey -- Rabbi Denise Eger. Never before had I experienced Torah the way Rabbi Eger shared it with us at BCC. I never envisioned how weekly Torah portions could be so seamlessly interwoven with events of the day. Most vividly, I remember the contrast she explained between our ancestor Jacob and a more current figure -- Alan Cranston. You see, Jacob was struggling with his conscience over cheating his brother Esau out of the birthright, while Senator Cranston claimed no wrongdoing during the Savings and Loan debacle.

For the first time in my life, I saw Torah as a tool for learning. I didn’t need to believe it was written by God. I just needed to study it, just like I had studied birds or word origins in my youth, or diabetes and metabolism in graduate school. For the first time, Torah was equated with learning. Not about finding the answers, but about looking for the answers. Now, finally, I was in my element.

For me, the birth of Kol Ami changed the dynamic a bit. The early years were marked by countless decisions:

· Do we affiliate as reform, conservative, reconstruction, orthodox, or Chasidic? (ok, we didn’t have many votes for those last two!)

· Do we have 2 Shabbat services a month or 3?

· Do we have a kosher community Seder or not? And how many hard-boiled eggs do we need?

In all seriousness, I was on the Board of Trustees for over 8 years, and attended scores of meetings and Board Retreats during which many important decisions about our synagogue were debated. But never – not once – did we begin to tackle the work at hand until our Rabbi led us a D’var Torah. Whether we were drafting temple budgets or bylaws, organizing membership events or High Holidays, Rabbi Eger made sure we knew what our service to the temple was really about. She gave us a context for our debate, because the work of a synagogue may often appear to be one of constant fundraising and membership drives. But it really isn’t.

The real work of a temple – of this temple – is to encourage all of us to live the lives we were born to live. And to live them with the integrity that the Torah encourages us to embrace. I can’t speak for anyone else. But for me, every time I see a Torah, every time I touch a Torah, every time I nervously fill in an ALEPH or a BET with the steady hands of our scribe Neil Yerman – every time, I am reminded of how I need to live in this world. That is what Torah means to me, and I am always humbled in its presence.

And so I join with you today as we dedicate our new Torah to our congregation and to the Jewish people. I also join with you as we dedicate our spirits and our souls to this very Torah and the lessons contained within the letters we breathed to life with our scribe as our guide. And I pledge to you, in this sanctuary, in the presence of our new Torah and my fellow Jewish people, that I will continue to work to live up to my potential as a human being.

I wish for all of you the joy of Torah in your lives.

Thank you.

Torah Commemoration by Dr. Peter Kraus, October 24, 2004

As I was walking with the Torah towards our Temple in the ceremony today, I said to our president, Steve Weiss, “This feels even more special than the dedication of our new synagogue three years ago”. He replied “naturally, this Sefer Torah will last much longer than any edifice”. I realized how true, and even more so, how the words of the Torah have lasted 4,000 years or more.

I would like to thank our Sofer (scribe) Neal Yerman for his devotion to our community over the last two years to make this day possible, and to all of those who have donated and partaken in the writing of the letters of Kol Ami’s new Sefer Torah.

The last of the 613 Commandments is the one to write a Torah.

You who have partaken in the writing of one of the 305,805 letters of the Torah, have performed this mitzvah.

The laws that pertain to the creation of a Sefer Torah are extremely exacting, rigorous and demanding.

The scribe must be a God-fearing man, must bathe in the mikva before writing, must say a blessing before writing, must read each word aloud before writing it, and cannot write unless totally focused on the work.

Each letter must be written accurately. No letter may be added or removed or else the Torah is not Kosher.

All the makings of the Torah must be natural and Kosher – the parchment from skin of a Kosher animal, the wood, the quill and even the black ink.

If a Torah becomes "unkosher," it is not thrown in the trash but kept in a gnizah or buried. If the Torah is dropped, the community must fast.

So why all these laws? Why can’t we just use a regular printed book?

The Torah is the spouse of the Jewish people. It is the source of our laws, our spirit, our way of life, our heritage and our history.

When a Torah is commemorated, we take it under a chupa, just like at a wedding.

So if we treat a spouse with love, respect, honor, adoration, and devotion, how much more should we treat the Torah which is given to the Jews by Hashem at Mount Sinai.

It takes a congregation to complete a Torah and a Torah to complete a congregation.

When I first wrote the letter in the Torah with the scribe, it was the letter “mem.” I was trying to find the significance in that letter for me. It was only today when I wrote my second letter “yud,” that it all came to me with such clarity.

The letter “mem,” whether spelled backwards or forwards is the same. It is a dual mirror image. Just like we are to be a mirror image of ourselves. Also it represents the two luchot habrit.

In addition, the numerical value of “mem” is 40.

Moses had to go up to the top of Har Sinai and stay there 40 days and 40 nights till he was able to receive the Torah from Hashem.

It was a preparation process even for the most pious and God-fearing man.

It made me realize how, though I was brought up with Torah on a daily basis until my late 20s, I left the Torah after that. I had difficulty reconciling my religion with my sexuality. As a matter of fact here in Los Angeles, I was in an Orthodox synagogue on Rosh Hashanah, and the Rabbi was giving a sermon. He asked why the gays need a synagogue of their own. I became very angry and never returned there. I spent that Yom Kippur on the beach, somewhat intoxicated…but by Simchat Torah, I was at the gay synagogue dancing with the Torah.

Fortunately, our rabbi and the congregation of Kol Ami, has served as a catalyst to bring back the excitement and enthusiasm of Torah – both learning and teaching.

So now the “yud” has been added to the “mem” to create “mayim,” mayim chayim – living waters – a creative fluid back in my spirit. Also the gimatria of mayim is 90-40+40+10. 90= the letter zaddik. Righteous and pure- something for me to strive towards.

On a similar note, Abraham’s spiritual transformation is the main topic of the Torah readings in the month of Cheshvan that we are in. This is a transformation that occurs in ten stages.

Yesterday we read from Parhsat Lech Lecha which starts off with the first of these trials.
God commands Abraham to go forth from his land, his birthplace and his father’s home to the land that God will show him..

The last of these trials is seen later in Vayera, where God commands Abraham to take his only son and go to the land of Moriah and sacrifice him.

The first test was intended for Avraham’s own improvement, while the akeidah demonstrated that Avraham was able to pass his love and devotion to Hashem onto his son, Isaac.

Let’s look at the difference in the grammar, though. In the first, it is “go forth from” and in the second it is “go forth to”.

In the first, Abraham severs his ties with his past but does not know where he will be going. This is a departure motivated more by the impetus to leave than the inducement to arrive.

On the other hand, in the “go forth to,” Avraham is told to move towards a higher objective, that of demonstrating his utter loyalty to Hashem.

In our journey of deepening our commitment to Torah, each of us begins, as Avraham did, with a leaving behind, and progresses to a moving towards.

Leaving behind can happen once and then it is over. But going to, is a life-long mission.

Of course we must be cognizant of what values we are putting behind us. But even so, a life of Torah is not solely a life of rejection. That would be too easy. It would amount to nothing more than the indiscriminate rebelliousness of adolescence.

To be complete, a life of Torah must be a life of aspirations, ever aiming for greater achievements in Torah learning, in increasing our observance of the mitzvot, in being more aware of God in our lives and in developing better qualities as human beings, to each other in our community, as well as to our country, to Israel and to the world.

So, let us close our eyes and say a shehecheyanu to our new Torah with the idea in mind that today, on this very day, we “lech lecha me” go from and leave behind the secular world, the financial pressures or quests, the news of the world that makes us feel fearful and insecure, and “lech el” go to our home, Kol Ami, and our Torah that completes us, that gives us spiritual development that we can pass on to our family, our progeny, our friends, our workmates and the world through our good deeds, charitable acts, spirituality and love that comes from the holy Torah.

Shabbat Noach, 5765 by Haim Ainsworth

Im tir’tzu, ain zo agadah…
If you will it, it is no dream!

In his last act as our Sofer, Neil Lerman will fill in the hollow letters of the first word of the Torah – B’reishit. As Sofer Lerman fills in the outlined word - B’reishit – so we, in being partners in this act, will fill in the outlined hopes and aspirations of our founders. As he completes the letters, he also completes another of our congregational dreams, dreams that we have willed into existence from the beginning.

A little under two years ago Kol Ami dared to dream that we could bring a new sefer torah into existence. We dared to dream of a day when children of this congregation would chant their portion at their b’nai mitzvah from that scroll. We dared to dream of a day when the scroll would be unwrapped and unrolled the length of this sanctuary at our annual simhat torah service. We have dared to dream beyond today, beyond next year, beyond the next century.

For indeed there will be many B’nai Mitzvah students who will read their portions from our scroll, there will be many simhat torah celebrations, and many passings of this scroll from congregant to congregant at our Yom Kippur Healing Services. There will be countless generations of Jews who will learn from this scroll, just as we will. We have dared to dream beyond ourselves, dared to dream into the future. As when Jacob dreamt of the ladder, who’s top reached into the sky – so too our dreams for this torah and for this congregation reach far beyond our sight. We have even dreamt of the day when, many years and generations from now, the sefer will be retired to a g’nizah – it’s letters and parchment faded and worn by years of reading, learning, celebration, veneration and use.

What fantastic dreams we are daring to dream!

I am sure many of you here tonight, as you sat holding the quill with Sofer Lerman, dared to dream your own dreams for the scroll. I have shared but a few of mine.

In just over a week, we will carry the scroll in celebration down La Brea – just as we did when we first entered this building. That day three years ago we transformed an empty shell, into a Synagogue. By placing our sefrei torah in the a’ron three years ago we transformed this building, and when we place the new sefer in the a’ron we will transform ourselves again in our shared destiny as a k’hilat kodesh – as a holy community.

We will dance and sing as Jews have done from that first moment when torah entered our lives at Sinai. We will take our place among our people for eternity, and future generations will inherit the legacy.

With this act of dedicating a torah scroll we are also taking upon ourselves as a community – and as individual members of that community – a sacred statement of unity. We are saying to ourselves, to each other, and to the world, that what is written in this scroll is worth carrying forward. It is worth the time, the effort, the money and it is worth the spiritual investment we make by taking this enormous step. And we are worthy of the task.
In just a few years we have leapt upon our potential as a faith community, and claimed our place among the Jewish people. When we dedicate the new scroll, we take the next step in dedicating our congregation to our mission, and to our destiny.

Kol Ami has taken tears and shaped them into a mighty torrent of joy, Kol Ami has taken the few and the dispossessed and transformed them into a strong, vibrant community. Kol Ami has done this by providing opportunities to look upon the greatness of our tradition, and opportunities to interact with G-d. We have built not only a beautiful and sacred building, but we have built beautiful and sacred links to one another. Each of these steps required careful preparation and this step is no different.

At Sinai, we are told, Moses asked to see the face of G-d, and that G-d told Moshe it was not possible. “But stand behind this rock, and my presence shall pass before you, and you may look upon My back.”

When we dedicate the new sefer we will be gazing upon the wonder that is the presence of G-d, as it passes not only before past us, but through us.

Let us now prepare ourselves once again for a sacred and transforming task, as we dedicate this sacred object, and in doing so let us dedicate ourselves.

Kein y’hi ratzon

Lech Lecha; Genesis 11:1-17:27 by Rabbi Denise L. Eger

There is no more powerful symbol of Jewish belonging than the rite of circumcision. For boys and men, this sacred sign embedded in the very flesh of the penis is a physical and daily reminder of the bond of the sacred covenant between God and the Jewish people.

Circumcision is performed when a male child is eight days old at the ceremony of Brit Milah, The commandment to circumcise comes directly from this week’s Torah portion. Chapter 17 of Lech Lecha describes this sealing of the covenant in flesh and the command to do this on the eighth day (17:12) is found there. Today’s ceremony of Brit Milah not only includes the rite of circumcision but the granting of a Hebrew name to the newly born male child. This too echoes the words of this week’s Torah portion, because in addition to God’s command to circumcise is Abram’s name change—from Abram to Abraham another sign of the covenant with God.

So too Abram’s wife Sarai, is granted a name change—to Sarah. Tradition teaches that Sarah also underwent physical changes at this moment of covenant making. Her inability to get pregnant—her barrenness is overcome at this very moment to fertility.

Thus the covenant God makes with Abraham and Sarah are linked forever to fertility. God’s covenant promises to make Abraham the father of many nations, exceedingly numerous (Gen 17:2-4).

The rite of circumcision has come under attack in recent years, as barbaric and unnecessary. Many articles have been written from the medical viewpoint about whether or not circumcision is healthier for men and their sexual partners.

And yet, for the Jewish people, this ancient symbol is not about medicine. It is about faith. The inclusion of ones’ son in the historic link of the Jewish people dating back to Abraham opens to one’s male child all of the riches of our heritage. It is an inheritance of values and ethics and of justice. This inheritance of righteousness is not too big for even the littlest among us—the week old child! The brit milah ceremony welcomes your son into the peoplehood of Israel and the inheritance of Torah that is rightfully his. No one can question his authenticity as a Jew.

For our girl children, I am happy that increasingly families are welcoming their daughters into the covenant of Abraham and Sarah with special ceremonies. The Brit Banot—covenant of the Daughters ceremony should also be done on the eighth day, welcomed into the peoplehood of Israel with by granting of a Hebrew name and with symbols of Jewish womanhood—water and candles.

In this way all of our children should be celebrated as the next link in the chain from Abraham and Sarah to the future of the Jewish people—m’dor l’dor—from generation to generation.

L'dor V'dor...Writing Torah, by Jane Drucker

My father's cousin Bella had two children and three husbands. Of all these people, I only remember Bella and husband #3...Uncle Maurice. The others had perished before my memory begins.

The Nazis deported Bella and her family from Germany to Rzeszow, Poland in 1938. Shortly after their relocation, Bella and her family found themselves in grave danger.

Bella decided to stay in the city for work, but she sent her eight year old daughter with her brother and her five year old son with her first husband, the children's father, to safety in the Hungarian countryside. All four of them were rounded up and murdered enroute.

Only Bella survived, taking on the identity of a Polish Christian woman and working as a maid for a Nazi family for the duration of the war in Europe.

After the war, she made her way to NY where she outlived her second husband; married for a third time, and eventually moved to Florida, where she lived until her death five years ago.

Bella never had any other children, but I owe my life to her. It was Bella who, while still in Nazi-occupied Poland, arranged for my grandmother and my father to escape from Berlin to NY in 1941. Without her, I would likely never have been born.

When the Torah Project was first announced, I knew I would participate. But one thing led to another, I was distracted, and I procrastinated.

One day, I heard that our scribe, Neil Yerman, would be coming to Kol Ami for ONE LAST TIME.

Oy, I thought, it's now or never. I made it now. I called the temple office to arrange for an appointment.

By the time I called, Lee had only one date left to offer me...June 6th. Bella's birthday. And so, it came to be that my writing in our Torah would be dedicated to Bella's memory.

Leesa and I arrived here on the afternoon of June 6th. When we sat down with Neil, he asked me some questions, listened intently to my answers...my story of feeling guided here for that special, life changing moment, by Aunt Bella.

Neil nodded, and he directed my attention to the parchment that would soon hold "my" letter. The next letter to be scribed was...a "bet"...the Hebrew equivalent of a "b", "B" for Bella.

L'dor, v'dor...from generation to generation...I dedicated my letter, my "bet", to Aunt Bella. I felt that in this small act, I became the vehicle to pass Jewish law and history and wisdom from Aunt Bella through me, to the children of our congregation.

Uncle Maurice, Bella's 3rd husband, was well renowned in our family for one oft-repeated philosophy, "There's a time for everything, and everything in its time." Whenever we read from our new Torah, I will think of the time that I helped to scribe our sacred words, and I'll remember Bella and all the generations that came before me. And I will dream of all the generations who will inherit Torah from us.

Parshat Naso; Leviticus 4:21-7:89

One of the highlights of this week’s portion, Naso, is the Priestly Benediction. The three fold blessing given by the priest to the people. Poetic in nature, the blessing is used during the worship service as well as at special occasions. The parents bless the children with these words at the Shabbat table and these sacred words can be heard at B’nai Mitzvah ceremonies, weddings and baby namings. It is an all purpose blessing and a very ancient one.

During holy days in an Orthodox synagogue, it is traditional for the descendants of priests to gather in front of the congregation to offer this blessing. Often called duchening—for the platform used in ancient days was the duchen. The blessing also has unique hand signs that are used by the priest or Kohen. The hand is spread in the shape of the Hebrew letter shin, the first letter of one of God’s names—Shaddai, Almighty. The kohen stands in front of the congregation. Sometimes the kohen drapes the tallit over the head and it has become traditional for the congregation not to look at the priest while the blessing is being intoned. As is taught in the Zohar -“It matters that the Divine Name is reflected in the fingers of the priests’ hands so although people cannot see the Shekinah they out not to look towards the hands of the priests, as that would indicate irreverence towards the Shekinah.” The hand sign of the priest was the model for Leonard Nimoy’s Spock character in Star Trek when Mr. Spock would say, “Live Long and Prosper”.

The blessing:
May God bless you and keep you.
May God’s face shine upon you and smile upon you.
May God’s face be lifted toward you and grant you peace.

These words clearly ask for God’s Divine presence and graciousness and divine gifts of peace to be bestowed upon the one who is being blessed.

In Torah it is only Moses who meets God face to face and whose face radiates after the encounter. And in this blessing the descendants of Aaron now invite the people of Israel to that same encounter of the Holy One. No intermediary. But the blessing wishes for the one is being blessed that same immediate experience of God’s glory.

Clearly to have that kind of intimate knowledge of God is unique. And to ask for that intimate knowledge of God requires one to have a special nature. The blessing calls out to us to live up to that goodness and that prophetic quality.

Bereishit; Genesis 1:1-6:8

With the holiday of Simchat Torah comes the beginning of the new Torah reading cycle. Once a year we end the book of Deuteronomy and begin immediately the reading of Genesis. This symbolizes the never-ending place of Torah in a Jew’s life. The continuous story of our people is meant to engage us in an ongoing discussion of the values, ethics and history of our people. This cycle keeps us connected to our discussion and dialogue with God.

With Shabbat Bereshit—we read of the creation of the universe and the world. The story of our human beginnings takes place in the Garden of Eden. God creates the first human being in a world of beauty, a utopia, a perfect setting. God place the first human there to work it and guard. And so from the very start, human beings have a task, a purpose. We are to work the garden to keep it from harm.

This should be the basis for our care of our planet. While we are to work the land we are also to guard it. This very value should inform our approach to the environment. We must balance the need for resources on the one hand, and protection of our air, water, and land on the other.

Jewish tradition teaches, that while we human beings have a higher role to play in the world than the animals, as part of God’s sacred creation, we have a responsibility to guard and protect the animals as well. Each creature in God’s creation has a role to play and we human beings as partners with God in this work of creation must also honor, celebrate and support those roles. Thus we have a responsibility to the animal kingdom as well to guard and protect. In Chapter 2 of Genesis, God at creates the animals to be Adam’s partners and helpers in the task of caring for the Garden. But Adam and God realize that only another kind of human being can be the true helper of Adam. And thus the female version of human beings come to the Garden in the form of Eve, mother of all life.

The Garden of Eden was a place of cooperation. Adam had to cooperate with the animals, and with Eve to care for this unique and special place. For us to find Eden once again, we too, should emphasize cooperation with our environment and be willing to challenge those who do harm to our world—corporations who pollute, governments who ignore sound environmental policy, and politicians who would sell out our interests to big business. But we should also work at the individual and every day level to guard the Garden of God’s creation, turn off faucets of running water, recycle plastics and paper, use less electricity and energy in our homes.

These will help us work the garden and guard it as well.