When I was about eight years old, itching for my afternoon to start after a monotonous Sunday School class, my teacher told us that we would have a homework assignment for the week. As the class groaned, she remarked, “This will be easy. All I want you to do is hug a tree.” Groans quickly turned to snickers, especially from the boys-eight-year-old boys do not hug anything, least of all trees. Yet, being the obedient little student I was back then, I made sure to go out to my front yard sometime that following week and wrap my arms around a giant live oak.

This was hardly a spiritual experience-to tell the truth, I remember it being rather prickly and rough. The larger idea of this assignment, however, was to let us each personally celebrate the holiday of Tu B’Shevat (in Hebrew, the 15th of Shevat-a month in the Jewish calendar), which is the birthday ofthe trees. Literally, the holiday was created in observance of religious laws stating that the fruit of new trees could not be eaten for four years after the tree was planted. However, the holiday now reflects a spirit of appreciation for the trees, for the fruits of the land, for the green earth.

Tu B’Shevat is not the only Jewish holiday connected to nature. Sukkot, the annual fall harvest festival, celebrates the things we receive from the Earth, in part by encouraging people to dine for a week in a Sukkah, a type of hut open on the sides and on the roof to allow closer contact with nature. Judaism maintains a deep connection with nature from the first lines of the Torah, our most sacred text, in the story of Creation. This relationship continues throughout the Israelites’ journey and their final arrival at Eretz Yisrael, the land of Israel. Yet I feel that one can find almost anything in the stories of the Torah, and I seek to find a more personal connection beyond the ancient text.

When I am outside, whether swimming in the vast and endless sea off a pristine Florida beach or standing atop a gold and red-streaked New England peak, I cannot help but notice the incredible and unmatchable beauty of the natural World. This is the connection that I make to God’s creation-the harmony of the birds’ songs, the intricate pollination patterns of wildflowers, and the sunset mirroring offthe glassy water all seem too perfect, too full of splendor, to have just occurred by coincidence. Outside of this serene world, I can easily doubt or question God or God’s existence. But even meditating on the idea of such extreme beauty gives me an inner peace that assures me that God is real and God is with me.

While I love the community aspect of Judaism, gathering with family and friends in prayers that have been chanted by Jews for thousands of years, I feel more spiritual and more connected to God when I am connected to the land. Skyscrapers and pavement, steel and glass may be magnificent, but they hold the definite handprint of humans. I have prayed in some beautiful and historic synagogues, brimming with gold details and ancient mosaics. However, while I respect that humans created these buildings through their devotion to God, I still wonder-wouldn’t the more obvious place to pray be the temple that God created? I spent one Shabbat (Sabbath) evening on horseback, riding through the open, hilly Uruguayan countryside, staring up at the stars and singing my favorite Jewish prayers. Through this connection with God, I felt connected to Jews all over the world, celebrating Shabbat under the same stars with different traditions and languages.

During the days of the Israelites’ escape from Egypt, when they wandered through the desert for 40 years, they built a tabernacle, or a portable tent of prayer. The sides were open, perhaps logically for ease of transport. But I believe this opened up the worshippers to the vast outside world. Can we return to this primary form of prayer space, uniting nature and God’s creation with worship, or must we keep compartmentalizing our lives in a way that excludes nature from religion?

Ironically, I might now be considered a tree-hugger in my own right, but not in a literal sense. Often I fail to connect my outdoor hobbies and activism with my spirituality, and yet my childhood Sunday School experience becomes very relevant in linking the two. My Judaism can never be removed from my love of the outdoors, and I try to incorporate both into each other in order to have a more fulfilling spiritual and natural experience.

Haley Peckett ‘05 is a Geography modified with Religion major. She enjoys mountain peaks, cheese, and small children.