Sabbatical Year

Leviticus 25:2-4 “…When you enter the land that I assign to you, the land shall observe a sabbath of the LORD. Six years you may sow your field and six years you may prune your vineyard and gather in the yield. But in the seventh year the land shall have a sabbath of complete rest, a sabbath of the LORD: you shall not sow your field or prune your vineyard.”

When the land of Israel came back under Jewish ownership in the Zionist enterprise, the biblical laws governing agriculture were reactivated, most notably the observance of shmitta, the sabbatical year. Under this law every seventh year the land owned by Jews must be left to lie fallow. All agricultural work beyond basic maintenance is prohibited and fruits grown during this year may not be sold and may be picked by anyone.

A creative interpretation of this law was developed in the shmitta year of 1888-89, when Jewish farmers in pre-state Palestine found themselves on the brink of destitution. Rabbis devised the heter mechira (leniency of sale), a permit to sell the land to non-Jews (usually Arab neighbors) for the duration of the sabbatical year so they could continue to farm it without violating the biblical law. This ruling is based on the idea that the laws of the sabbatical year are not binding if the majority of the Jewish people do not live in the land of Israel. The temporary interpretation eventually became permanent, although in recent years some hardline religious authorities have nullified it and prohibited the consumption of locally grown produce during the sabbatical year.

I wondered how the sabbatical year affects people who earn their livelihood from fruits and vegetables. This week I spoke with Jackie Cohen, my neighborhood greengrocer in Kiryat Yovel.

“Economically, shmitta is a tough year for me. For every kilo of produce I buy from the wholesaler I have to pay an additional tax to cover the rabbinical supervision. There’s much less produce available and I often have to drive to wholesale markets outside Jerusalem in order to stock what I need. I have less sales and less customers, because very religious people who don’t accept the heter mechira won’t buy from me. My kashrut supervisor, who is ultra-orthodox, usually helps himself to whatever he likes here. During shmitta he says that for him, consuming my merchandise would be like eating pork.”

“Is there anything positive for you about the sabbatical year?” I queried.

Jackie smiled broadly. “It goes by fast. I love talking to my customers. Best of all, my Dad comes by every day to help out.”