Commentary by Rabbi Bradley Shavit
Artson, Dean of the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies at
the University of Judaism in Los Angeles
After two
days of Rosh Ha-Shanah and a day of fasting on Yom Kippur,
you would think that Jews would be exhausted.
Enough
Judaism, already!
Yet at
precisely that time, the calendar of Judaism presents a
dazzling array of festivals--Sukkot, Hoshanah Rabbah,
Sh'mini Atzeret, and Simhat Torah. For more than a week, we
continue to celebrate one holiday after another, each with
its own set of rituals, songs, and customs.
Of all the
festivals, none has as many mitzvot (commandments) and
customs associated with it than does Sukkot, the Festival of
Booths. We build special huts (the sukkah), carry the four
types of plants (the lulav--palm frond, etrog--citron,
aravah--willow, and hadas--myrtle) and eat festive meals in
the sukkot. Some Jews even sleep in their sukkot.
Exhausted by the holy days already behind us, and living in
a culture that distrusts ritual in the first place, what can
this frenetic activity mean to us?
Traditional
commentators have explained the lulav and etrog in several
ways:
According to
the Midrash Va-Yikra Rabbah, the etrog, hadas, and aravah
symbolize the three Patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
The single Lulav symbolizes God. By holding the three
against the Lulav, we act out our hope that the sacred deeds
of our ancestors, the lessons learned throughout our lengthy
history, will serve us well before God. Thus, lulav and
etrog demonstrate our link to Jewish history throughout
time.
According to
Pesikta De-Rav Kahana, each of the plants symbolizes a
different type of Jew: one who is learned in Torah and rich
in good deeds, one who is learned but has performed no good
deeds, one who is uneducated but active in demonstrating
lovingkindness, and one who is uneducated and has not
performed loving deeds. By binding all four plants together,
we pray that God will also consider the entire Jewish people
as a single unit, each responsible for the other, each Jew
compensating for the shortcomings of the others. Thus, lulav
and etrog demonstrate our unity as a people and celebrate
our diversity as individuals and as religious movements
within the umbrella of Judaism.
Finally, the
medieval compilation Kad ha-Kemah asserts that each of the
four species corresponds to a different human organ: the
heart, the spine, the eyes, and the lips. Just as all these
organs can lead a person to error and to pain, so too they
can become the means for self improvement and for elevating
others. Thus, lulav and etrog demonstrate our determination
to use our bodies to help other people and ourselves, to
serve God, and to make the world more holy.
Each of
these explanations works from the bottom up, trying to
account for the details of an already established
observance. Perhaps another approach would be to work from
the other direction, to explain the larger picture and not
worry about the details. So, for example, in Midrash
Va-Yikra Rabbah, Rabbi Avin compares the lulav and the etrog
to a scepter awarded to a victorious combatant. After
returning to our synagogues in massive numbers on Rosh Ha-Shanah,
after spending Ten Days of Repentance considering who we are
and who we want to be, after fasting and praying on Yom
Kippur, the entire Jewish people emerges energized,
enriched, and motivated.
Such a
transformation is indeed a victory. Carry your lulav and
etrog with joy!
Shabbat
shalom and Hag Sameach!