Reading about the resurgence of natural wildlife behavior in Yosemite has been particularly exciting for me and my partner, since we love the place dearly. And, while I’m hoping to still manage to get in a backpacking trip this summer, I also find myself agreeing with my partner who hopes the NPS just gives up, shuts down the park for the year, and commits to reopening in the spring.
We talked about it last week, and as we did so a thought occurred to me: not only should we do it this year, but if it’s such a great thing, maybe we should keep doing it.
If you haven’t read the Bible there’s a decent chance you don’t know about the Sabbath year. It’s buried in Leviticus, which most people ignore completely, except for the bit about GAY BAD which some people like to single out and trumpet from mountaintops. Leviticus is where you’ll find various food laws, plus quotidia about offerings, mildew, wet dreams, menstruation, skin disease, and more! Besides the fact that it’s occasionally hilarious, it’s not a particularly pleasant read. But if you manage to get through to Leviticus 25, there’s this lovely series of rules about the Sabbath. Not the Sabbath day, which everyone knows about, but the Sabbath year.
Basically, every seventh year, you let the land be. Whatever grows of itself can be eaten. But there is to be no plowing, no planting. You let the land rest. Figure out how to store up enough in the other six years to survive.
Then, every seven-times-seven years (I’m pretty sure that makes 49, but my Bible says it’s 50, so w/e; maybe it’s the year after the seventh Sabbath year?) is the year of Jubilee. Any land that has changed hands reverts to its original owner. Any citizen who has sold themself into slavery is freed. (Foreigners, sadly, don’t get this benefit.) There’s a great line that goes, “you idiots, you don’t actually ‘own’ land, it’s mine, you just live on it for chrissakes,” or something like that. Anyway, it’s obvious why this—like most of Leviticus—is probably better off ignored, and usually is. But it’s in there.
So here we all are, involuntarily being Biblical, Levitical even, giving parts of the land a Sabbath year. It’s inspiring to see how much is different after so little time. As if, maybe, we should do it more often. And I don’t think it’s entirely impractical to do this with our national parks, on a rotating basis. The people most likely to object are Bible-thumpers anyway. Maybe they’ll get as far as the “you don’t actually own the land” bit. Maybe they’ll miss the one, count it ONE, verse about GAY BAD.
Meh, probably not.