Tonight is Shabbat Sukkot. Continuing our theme of connections, I am thinking about the lulav and the etrog, the four species. The lulav, a palm, the etrog, a citron, the aravot, willow and the hadas, myrtle.
Why these?
Etrog — because it is written (Psalms 104: 1): ‘You are clothed in glory and majesty.’ (The word translated as majesty is hadar. In the Torah (Leviticus 23:40), the etrog is called the fruit of the goodly tree. The same Hebrew word, hadar, is used in that context to mean goodly.)
Palm — because it is written (Psalms 92:13): ‘The righteous bloom like a date palm.’
Myrtle — because it is written (Zechariah 1:8): ‘And he stood among the myrtle-trees.’
Willow — because it is written (Psalms 68:5): ‘Extol Him who rides on the clouds [aravot], the Lord is His name.’
Each of the four relates to a particular limb through which man is to serve God (cf. Sefer ha-Hinukh, #285):
Taken together, they represent many things. One interpretation is they can be seen as the Name of G-d. Yud—as the etrog, Vuv as the lulav, and the willow and myrtle as the arms and legs of hey.
This is a whole body experience. It is very concrete. Each part can represent another part of our own bodies.
The Etrog is the heart, the place of understanding and wisdom.
The Lulav is the backbone, uprightness.
The Myrtle corresponds to the eyes, enlightenment.
The Willow represents the lips, the service of the lips (prayer).
Another interpretation suggests that these are each one of the four species represents one of the four types of habitats in Israel.
1) Lulav-Palm branch = desert
2) Hadas-Myrtle = mountains
3) Aravot-Willow = rivers and streams
4) Etrog-Citron = lowlands, agricultural land
Each one needs the most water of all the species that grow in its region. Between them, they make a kind of ecological map of Israel, and they represent last year’s rainfall. And we use them to ask for this year’s rain. (Rabbi David Seidenberg, known as the neo hasid)
But even more than those interpretations is the idea that these four species represent learning and good deeds. The etrog has both taste and learning. The lulav had taste but not fragrance. The myrtle has smell but no taste. The willow has neither. Each is a different kind of person. Some have learning and good deeds. Some have one but not the other. Some have neither. Real community is only found in acknowledging this truth and bringing all, welcoming all into the big tent. That is the real challenge of the shaking the lulav.
There is a tradition of inviting guests, ushpizin, to our sukkah, just like Abraham and Sarah invited guests into their tent. Each night is for a different historical guest. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, and David. And these days we invite the matriarchs too: Sarah, Rachel, Rebecca, Leah, Miriam, Abigail, and Esther.
I invite to my meal the exalted guests, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, and David. May it please you, Abraham, my exalted guest, that all the other exalted guests dwell with me and with you – Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, and David.”
I love this reading. It represents how we as a community are connected in different ways.
“May the door of this synagogue be wide enough to receive all who hunger for love,
all who are lonely for fellowship.
May it welcome all who have cares to unburden, thanks to express, hopes to nurture.
May the door of this synagogue be narrow enough to shut out pettiness and pride,
envy and enmity.
May its threshold be no stumbling block to young or straying feet.
May it be too high to admit complacency, selfishness, and harshness.
May this synagogue be, for all who enter, the doorway to a richer and more meaningful life.”
Rabbi Sydney Greenberg
Back in July, I was asked to contribute to a book for the High Holidays that would be a supplement in light of October 7th. In Israel there are still Sukkot that are standing, a year after the atrocities. The poem I submitted for this supplement sadly still seems relevent.
Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomecha
Try this:
Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomecha,
Spread over us the shelter of Your peace
That very fragile shelter
That fragile sukkah
Open on all its sides
Like Abraham and Sarah’s tent
Roof open to the sky
To the stars
Yet it can blow over
In the slightest wind.
Four simple words
And if that is too hard
Sing it
La, la, la.
Anyone can do that.
Do it now.
Please.
Demand it.
Command it.
Beg it.
That fragile peace was shattered
As we danced.
Will we ever dance again?
How can we?
Or try this:
Oseh shalom bimromav
Hu Ya’aseh shalom
May the G-d who makes peace
In the high heavens
Make peace here,
Speedily, here, now.
In our time.
We need G-d to do it.
Because apparently,
We can’t.
We don’t know how.
We lack the will
Shalom. Sa’alam.
We are all created
B’tzelem elohim.
In Your image.
Shalom. Sa’alam.
Sa’alam. Shalom.
Demand.
Command.
Beg.
Now.
Or try this:
Do not hide Your face
From us.
Once we thought:
Nothing could shake our security.
But it did.
Once we said:
Your love is lifelong.
Tears may linger for a night.
Joy comes with the dawn.
Once we danced:
We danced with abandon.
Now how can we?
How can we not?
This is zeman simchateinu
The time of our great joy!
Where is the joy?
Once we asked:
What profit is there
If we are silenced?
If the music stops?
If the dancing stops?
Tears will linger.
We will not forget.
We cannot forget.
We will not be silent.
We will tell their stories.
What benefit was there
To all those who went to their graves?
Help us to find our voices.
Help us to hear the music again.
Help us to find joy again.
Help us to turn our mourning into dancing,
Again.
Speedily and in our time.
Don’t hide Your face from us!
Demand it.
Command it.
Beg it.
Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomecha
Spread over us
That fragile sukkah of Your peace
So we can dance again.
We will dance again.
Amen.
Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein