Linking Sukkot’s Four Species and Jewish unity

There is an interesting discussion in halacha about whether or not it is appropriate to smell one’s hadassim and esrog. The Shulchan Aruch says you may not smell the hadassim attached to the lulav, while one may smell the esrog, although it is not recommended because it is unclear what blessing needs to be made on smelling it.

Usually, when someone smells a sweet-smelling fruit, they are supposed to say the blessing to G-d, “who gives pleasant aromas to fruits.” The argument against this blessing in most cases is that people use the fruit for food, and “Borei Pri Ha’etz” exempts them from the bracha on its smell.

But the Mishnah Berurah distinguishes between times you use the esrog and times you don’t, saying that you can certainly smell it when you’re not in the act of shaking the Four Species.

The question is, what’s the difference? And where do the hadassim come in?

Two thoughts contribute to this conversation.

•The first is often taught in schools: each of the arba minim has qualities that distinguish them. The esrog has a pleasant smell and taste, the hadassim have a nice smell but no taste, the lulav has a nice taste but no smell to speak of, and the aravos have no taste and no smell.

•The second point is that there is a difference between how these items are perceived when engaged in the mitzvah versus how they are perceived otherwise.

The point made by the Shulchan Aruch is that the hadassim’s good quality, its smell, is what designates it for the mitzvah. As such, its smell is designated for the mitzvah and may not be used for other purpose. The main quality and feature of the esrog, however, is its taste. As a result, since the taste is elevated for a mitzvah, the smell is available to enjoy, were it not for the debate mentioned earlier.

This is how the Aruch Hashulchan frames the conversation.

• • •

On the surface the question seems silly. It’s obvious that if something has been designated for a mitzvah, it cannot have another use.

But is it really so obvious? Is it even true?

Some might make the argument that marriage fulfills the mitzvah of procreation. Would anyone argue that a husband and wife may not enjoy each other’s company in other ways?

Some might argue that a synagogue is a place for davening. But in Hebrew, it’s called a beit haknesset, a place of gathering, not a beit tefillah, a house of prayer. Can we really argue that the only use for a beit haknesset is tefillah?

I would like to suggest that there is a distinction between mitzvah and not-mitzvah because there is a profound lesson to be learned from a metaphor.

The qualities of the esrog, lulav, hadassim and aravos remind us that there are different kinds of Jews. Some with entirely good qualities, some with a mix of good and bad, and some who are all bad. The gathering of these items display a unity that we ought to have, particularly after Yom Kippur, when we vowed to be better to one another.

But it goes deeper. The esrog proves that a fruit can have more than one of good quality, and that if one good quality is unavailable, that doesn’t take away from our ability to find others.

And I would argue that the same is true of the hadassim, lulav and aravos. If they are meant to be metaphors for people, we need to see them as possessing more qualities. We can limit the appeal of a myrtle branch to one or two things, but that’s a branch. People are much more complicated.

This is one reason why the deterioration of dialogue between opposing views is so devastating to a culture. Instead of hearing another person and properly weighing pros and cons, considering the other side and refining one’s own viewpoint, we tend to put people who think differently into boxes, dismissing their thought process and their feelings without getting to know them.

How many intelligent people have been unfairly painted as fools, as uncaring, as childish, for simply having a different viewpoint?

People are more complex than that.

I promise you that if the hadas had another quality other than its smell, we would be allowed to benefit from it — certainly when not engaged in the mitzvah.

• • •

This holiday of simcha gives us an opportunity to walk around, knock on busy sukkahs, and try to get to know one another, even just a little.

And who knows? While we can easily find points to disagree, with the right attitude and direction of conversation, maybe we can find so many more to agree. We can find perspectives we never considered before.

We can take the lesson of the arba minim, the different kinds of Jews, and create a tapestry of unity that weaves different groups together, differences and all, into a cohesive embodiment of mitzvah-fulfilling kiddush Hashem makers.

If we can do that, we will have earned the right to gladden others and celebrate the holidays with joy.

Avi Billet, who grew up in the Five Towns, is a South Florida-based mohel and rabbi of Anshei Chesed Congregation in Boynton Beach. This column was previously published. To reach Rabbi Billet, write: Columnist@TheJewishStar.com