Although we might profess to value the proletariat, to celebrate simplicity, to refrain from cultural and intellectual elitism, I’d bet few of us walk that talk. How many people do you know who’ve named their kid after the local postman, or delivery man, or maid who cleans the night shift? Forget about actually naming after someone of limited income, status, emotional sensitivity, intellectual prowess or fame! How many of us give the “simple” folk in our lives the time of day?! A warm good morning. A sincere, “How are you?” We’re in strong need of a remedy for our “attachment-to-fame disorder.”
He wasn’t the first of the Rebbeim to hold “simple” folk in such high esteem. The Baal Shem Tov, founder of Chassidut, is renowned for his appreciation of and love for the ordinary Jew. Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson writes in his memoirs, ““It was this love for the common man that was, and remained, the real basis of the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov. He did not seek for high scholarship amongst Jews. He valued more the heart. The Jew who could read his prayers in Hebrew, even if he did not know the translation, the mere fact of his sincere utterance of these holy words in Hebrew, was a source of satisfaction to the Almighty in heaven, the Baal Shem declared.”[1]
________________________________________________________________________
The seventh day of the holiday of Sukkot provides much food
for thought on the supreme value of “simplicity.” We’re prompted to think about the worth of
the naïve and guileless among us.
Hoshana Rabba, as it’s called, encourages us to let go of our attachment
to all that is slick and sophisticated, to look beyond the “talented, special”
ones among us and to instead pay attention to the straightforward, possibly
naïve, yes…simple folk. And it does this
all through a practice involving willow branches.
In Temple times, the people would take willow branches from
a place below Jerusalem called Motza.
Throughout the holiday of Sukkot, they placed them at the sides of the
altar so that their tops bent over it.
Then they would sound the shofar.
They did this once every day of Sukkot and seven times on Hoshana Rabba.
Today in memory of this mitzvah, we circle the bimah in shul
as was done in days gone by around the altar in the Temple. And on Hoshana Rabba, we take five willow
leaves, bind them together, say a special prayer and beat the bundle on the
ground.
There’s no blessing for the latter, no fanfare. Seemingly the act does not have sufficient “value”
for us to make a blessing. We simply take
the lowly willow, beat it, and toss it on to the ark.
The willow certainly has a bad rap. The Midrash[2]
correlates the four species of Sukkot with four types of Jews. The Etrog which has flavor and fragrance
corresponds to those Jews who have both Torah and good deeds. The palm fronds have taste but no fragrance
just like those Jews who have Torah but not good deeds. The myrtles by contrast have fragrance but no
taste. They correspond to those Jews who
have good deeds but lack Torah. And
“this willow has neither taste nor fragrance…(like those) who have neither
Torah nor good deeds.”
You really don’t want to be a willow person! Or do you?
Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson states that the willow is “indicative of
simple people whose fulfillment of the commandments is with simple faith.”[3]
This comment brings out a profound depth of the Midrash and explains
the inner content of the willow.
Superficially the Midrash seems to be implying that only the Etrog has
both the advantage of Torah knowledge and good deeds. The three other species it would seem are
lacking one or both of
these. The Rebbe
clarifies and qualifies this understanding.
He is of the opinion that “all Jews are equal” when it comes to both
learning and action. All four categories
of Jews alluded to in the four species fulfill both Torah and Mitzvot.
His reading of the Midrash makes a lot of sense. Think about it just a little. The lulav-Jew is immersed in study. But as our sages say, true learning
brings one to action. So if the
said Jew is learning in the way study is meant to happen, he or she is also
fulfilling the actual commandments. Similarly
with regard to the myrtle-Jew. This is
the person who’s doing good deeds. That
by necessity implies knowledge! You have
to know what Torah requires in order to fulfill its requirements. By the same token, the willow-Jew does
study and does act. This person
is part of the same bundle of folks who are like citrons, palms and
myrtles. The willow persona is one of a
totality of individuals whose lives are bound up with the Torah and its
commandments. The identifying feature of
this person, says the previous Rebbe, is that all they do is permeated with
simple faith.
It’s a beautiful reading of our people and the Midrash. But it leaves us with a question: If they’re
all endowed with both qualities, why then make distinctions and overtly imply
that there’s a definite continuum from the “have-alls” to the “have-nots”!?
The inner meaning of the Midrash though is that whilst we
are all equal when it comes to our connection to the Torah and our abundance of
good deeds, there is a difference in the manner and quality of the way
in which we both study the Torah and enact the commandments.
We access Torah through intellectual pursuit.[4] So according Rabbi Schneerson’s
interpretation when the Midrash refers to someone as having “Torah” it implies
someone who has superior intellect. Good
deeds on the other hand emphasize the advantage of the emotional attributes
which drive our actions. So having
“Mitzvot” in the language of the Midrash is indicative of a person with
emotional intelligence.
This throws new light on the difference between the four
species. They are each connected to both
Torah and good deeds. It’s just that they
do it differently! The etrog folk have
both high IQ’s and profound emotional intelligence. Contemporary culture might call them “Renaissance
Men.” In Torah terminology, they would
be called “Adam” – a term reserved for those who have mastered both mind and
heart. The lulav personas are the
Harvard grads. They’re the Torah
scholars who soar on the wings of reason and intellectual exploration. Myrtle people are highly skilled at
identifying and managing both their own and others’ emotions. They’re likely to be in the helping
professions, empathize with others and know how to make them comfortable. They’re skilled at applying the Torah to
daily life. Last but not least are the
willow members of society. These are the
“simple” folk[5] who form
the bedrock of society – good, honest, sincere people whom we might be
dismissive of but whom we feel awfully comfortable being around! These are Jews whose fulfillment of Torah and
mitzvot lacks both the advantage of intellect and emotion. Their access to study
and fulfillment of mitzvot is permeated with a simple and pure faith.
Through looking at the four species in this light, it
becomes clear that there’s a special aspect to the willow that surpasses the
other species. The tree gives no fruit
and the leaves give off no fragrance.
Yet it is precisely in that “blandness” of being that we recognize the
presence of something beyond. The
willow’s minimalism is indicative of the inner point of the Jewish soul which
is indivisible and thus empty of discernable distinctive qualities. We all have this point within us but it is
most felt in the “simple” unlettered and emotionally unadorned
individuals. The Baal Shem Tov states
that the “simplicity” of the common people is synonymous with the essential
simplicity and unity of G-d Himself. It
is precisely in the unaffected and possibly naïve individuals that G-d’s
presence is to be felt most.[6]
________________________________________________________________________
This special quality of the “willow” folk is reflected in
the physical qualities of the willow itself.
The mitzvah to “take for (ourselves)” the four species is comprised
precisely of these four because each encapsulates the theme of unity and
oneness.
The etrog is an evergreen tree and the fruit “lives on the
tree from year to year.” Not only does
it not shrivel, wilt or die with the change of seasons – it actually
grows. In this way, all four seasons of
the year are united through the individual fruit which remains on the tree
throughout the year. The lulav frond has
many leaflets that come together in one tip.
Myrtle leaves surround the stem in groups of three, all of which meet at
one point. And willows are called achvana,
a “brotherhood,” because they grow together in groups, or be’achva.
The world we live in is characterized by the very opposite
of unity. In fact, the Hebrew word for
“world” is olam, and is etymologically related to the word he’elem
which means “concealment.” As such the
world manifests division and plurality.
If anything on this physical plane does in fact express something of
unity then it’s an indication something of the original, supernal Unity that is
the source of everything is shining through that object. In other words, the “ego” of the object is
less manifest and its source is more revealed.
This concept is evident in the four species. Each of them displays unity albeit in
different ways. As such one doesn’t
experience their natural “ego identity” which exists simply by virtue of being
of this world. Rather, one is touched by
their nullification to their source.
This existential subordination brings about a revealed unity even on the
physical plane.
Yet even within the four species themselves there exists a
difference in the nature of that unity.
When it comes to the etrog, lulav and myrtle one notices that the unity
we’re talking of exists within each plant at an individual level. The leaves of this particular palm or
myrtle and this particular etrog display something of oneness. But that unity is not connected to other
plants of the same species.
Conversely willows grow in groups, in “brotherhood” with one
another. The fact that in this physical
world willows grow in unison, expressing unity, is because they are subordinate
to their source more so than the other three species. It is precisely the willow which surrenders
its “ego” – or sense of being an independent existence outside of G-d – that
reveals the one and simple supernal root of reality within the concealment of
creation. That’s why even its name
reflects unity.
________________________________________________________________________
The willow’s unusual display of unity also says much about
the unique qualities of simple faith.
At a purely physical level, although the etrog, palm and myrtle
are in actuality chosen because of their manifestation of unity, one could make
a mistake. Their respective flavors and
fragrances draw attention to themselves.
As such they conceal the simplicity and unity that underlie them even though
that simplicity is even more transcendent in its root than the quality that
draws our attention. One might
mistakenly think they’ve been selected for the mitzvah not because of
their unity but because of their benefits.
The willow by contrast has nothing special about it at
all. And being that there’s nothing to
draw our attention, nothing to mask its clear-cut identity, the oneness of the
willow radiates outwards. There’s simply
no way to make a mistake as to why it’s included in the group. The only reason it could be there is
because of this notion of oneness.
The same thing applies to us as individuals. Those of us who are “rich” in intellect and
emotion face a challenge. Our gifts
inevitably conceal our simple faith. We
lose access to the simplicity and innocence that exists within us and are
instead swept up by our abilities, seduced by our gifts. We lose access to the very essence of who we
are.
It is precisely in the “simple folk” who are bereft of
intelligence and “specialness” that “essential supernal unity and simplicity”
shines.
________________________________________________________________________
Given all the above, we can now understand the greatness of
Hoshana Rabbah particularly as it was practiced in the Temple and as it is
practiced today.
The willows of Hoshana Rabbah are of an even higher level
than those of the four species. The
latter are bound together with three other plants each of which reveals
something of G-d singular Oneness and simplicity but each of which at the same
time is remarkable for something distinctive.
As a result, the willows associated with the group is somewhat
compromised. It’s simplicity is not
entirely pure because by association it is connected with other distinctive
attributes.
The willows the Jews placed around the altar in the temple
however was entirely plain. It was not
bound with anything. No other species
lent it “importance” and it had no notable features of its own. As such they served as visual, physical
analogies of pure and unadulterated simplicity.[7]
The practice of placing the long willow stems around the
altar is not explicitly stated in the Bible.
It is a law that has been passed down to us from Moses as he received it
from G-d at Mount Sinai.[8] These kinds of commandments are connected to
profound levels within the soul. There
are dimensions within us that are connected to G-d through overt
instructions. They are fed by all the
deeds laid out in the Bible and their corresponding commentaries. Beyond these dimensions, there is a point within
us where our essence touches that of G-d.
It is a place where we are so connected that we don’t need to be overtly
commanded to do something in the Written Law.
This point manifests its bond with G-d through the commandments that
were received by Moses at Mount Sinai and passed down to us across the
generations. It is a point of simplicity
within the soul itself.
Today’s practice of the willow touches even one step
deeper. We take five willows which
correspond to the five dimensions of severity. Holding them we say a prayer, bang them on the
ground and then throw them over the ark in shul, or the lintel if we’re at
home.[9] It is a custom that was instituted by the
prophets. So it’s neither a law
explicitly stated in the Bible nor one received from Moses. At the surface it’s “just a custom” – of
minimal significance. However in
actuality Jewish custom is rooted in the very essence of our souls and
collective consciousness.
Certain practices were revealed to us by the prophets. But they didn’t come at the people in a
heavy-handed way. They simply took on to
act in a particular way and the people followed of their own accord. In this sense, Jewish custom reflects the Jew’s
ability to intuitively sense the cosmic means of connection to G-d that are
available. It is for this reason that
our sages tell us that “Jewish custom is Torah.” The overt meaning is that we cannot dismiss
these practices because they take on the status of actual law. The deeper reading is that as a people we
have the power to “create” Torah through collectively intuiting the patterns of
conduct that bind us with G-d.
Thus the custom of the willows of Hoshana Rabbah as we
practice it today reveals the very root and essence of our soul. The willow, devoid of flavor, devoid of
fragrance, reflects that point of undifferentiated unity and simplicity within
each of us. When we access this place
within us, the lowly willow suddenly becomes the most radiant of all the plants
of Sukkot. At that moment, we can
forgive ourselves for all we’re not and celebrate ourselves for the untouchable
and indescribable essence of who we are.
And then we’re able to look at others differently too. We are able to see the wonder of a
water-carrier.
Qualities
|
Citron/Etrog
|
Palm/Lulav
|
Myrtle/Haddas
|
Willow/Arava
|
The “Labels”
|
The Saint
The Egoist
|
The Sage
The Intellectual
|
The Intuitive
The Drama Queen
|
The Mute
The Oracle
|
Body Part
|
Heart
|
Spine
|
Eyes
|
Mouth
|
Parallel in the Tree of Life
|
Keter
|
Chabad
|
Chagat
|
Malchut
|
Sense fed by the plant
|
Taste and Smell
|
Taste
|
Smell
|
Neither
taste nor smell
|
Advantages according to
overt meaning of Midrash
|
Learns Torah and does good
deeds
|
Learns Torah
|
Does good deeds
|
Has neither Torah nor good
deeds
|
A deeper reading of the
Midrash
|
Has both the advantages of
Torah and good deeds
|
Learning brings to
action. Thus although this Jew focuses
on learning, that in and of itself implies doing
|
Performs the required deeds
thus must have knowledge of the what and how of Torah
|
Included in the same
prestigious group of individuals who are imbued with both Torah and good
deeds and by extension has both as well
|
Personality types and
strengths of the
individuals
|
Highly intelligent and
emotionally gifted
|
Excels in intellectual
arenas
|
High in emotional
intelligence
|
Imbued with guileless, pure
and simple faith. “Blandness” touches
one’s essence
|
Physical qualities of
the Species that reflect Oneness
|
Lives on the tree from year
to year. All four seasons of the year
are thereby united
|
All leaves come to one
unified point
|
All the groups of three
leaves come to one point at the stem
|
Are called achvana,
“fraternal,” because they grow beachva,
”together”
|
The Up and Downside of
Each Type (Inverted for the Willow)
|
Essence point of the soul
is concealed by the sparkling mind and personality
|
Essence point of the soul
is concealed by the gift of intelligence
|
Essence point of the soul
is concealed by gift of emotional intelligence
|
No revealed gift and
therefore the essential, unified and “simple” point of the soul is manifest
|
G-d said, “Bind them all
together and they will atone for each other.”
|
[1] Rabbi Y.Y.
Schneerson, Memoirs Vol 1
[2] Vayikra
Rabbah, 30:12
[3] Yom Tov
shel Rosh Hashana 5710
[4] Each of us
receives the Torah as an inheritance.
Our wanting the Torah, having a tradition of studying it in our nuclear
family and the like have nothing to do with the fact that it belongs to you by
virtue of your birth. The Torah belongs
no more and no less to anyone one of our people (which may explain why we get
in to such heated arguments over its meaning at times and each feel we
have the correct reading of an issue at hand.)
Nonetheless, absorbing the Torah into our own consciousness requires
mental exertion.
[5] Anashim
peshutim in Hebrew.
[6] It is
interesting to note that the spheres of Netzach,
“Ambition,” and Hod, “Humility,” are called “willow leaves.” This is because they have no unique flavor
but are rather extensions of the higher soul powers of love and awe. Nonetheless, just as the willow has a
uniquely superior advantage over the other three species, they are rooted in an
even higher source both love and fear.
(See Likkutei Torah, Shir HaShirim 27:4)
[7] In this
light, it is interesting to note that for the four species one needs at least
three moist leaves to fulfill the mitzvah.
In fact we take three stalks each of which must have leaves that meet in
twos at the stem. The minimum
requirement for the Temple
practice of the willow was one stem with one leaf.
[8] Halacha
le’Moshe miSinai
[9] Some people
throw them onto the roof of the Sukka at home.
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