Sukkos Skin Deep

As we know, the arrangement of our calendar is in no way haphazard—that Sukkos immediately follows the Aseres Yimei Teshuva, and Yom Kippur is not by chance. Rather, we must look at this Yom Tov as part of a progression—a continuation of the Yimei HaRAtzon, rather than a departure from them. While we can understand that the Yom Tov in general is part of a continuum, we must try to view the Mitzvos HaYom in this regard as well and try to understand how they relate to the greater Avodah of Chodesh Tishrei. To this end, let us carefully examine one of the two major Mitzvos of the Yom Tov: the Arba Minim.

The Tzivuy for the Mitzvah of Arba Minim is found in Parshas Emor, amid a series of Pessukim discussing the Yomim Tovim in general, and specifically Sukkos. The Torah tells us: “U’Lakachtem Lachem BaYom HaRishon Pri Etz Hadar Kapos Temarim V’Anaf Etz Avos V’Arvei Nachal”. As the Passuk continues we learn that we are to use these four items in one of the central purposes of the Yom Tov: “V’Samachtem Lifnei Hashem Shivas Yamim.”

This Passuk, which adorns many a Sukkah poster, is quite familiar, but there is a simple, yet important, question which must be answered if we wish to correctly understand its words.

The Passuk seems to be telling us that the Arba Minim are integral to the Simcha of the Yom Tov. How is this the case? How does the Mitzvah of “U’Lakachtem Lachem BaYom HaRishon” lead to “V’Samachtem Lifnei Hashem Shivas Yamim”? In what way do the Arba Minim allow us to feel Simcha?

In order to answer this question, let us take a closer look at the beginning of the Passuk.

While the final three Minim can be readily understood from the way the Torah speaks about them, the words “Pri Etz Hadar do not seem to speak about a particular fruit. We of course know that this refers to an Esrog, but it is not clear from the Passuk how this is so.

Rashi offers two explanations for the words Pri Etz Hadar, which help us identify about which fruit the Torah is speaking. First, Rashi tells us that the Pri Etz Hadar has a unique characteristic: “Etz She’Tamo U’Piryo Shaveh”, it is a tree whose fruit and wood have the same taste. The second Pshat is based on the word “Hadar”: it is a Pri “Hadar B’Ilano M’shana L’Shana”, it remains on its tree from one year to the next. The tree whose fruit fulfils both of these characteristics is the Esrog, the Min with which we associate these words.

The words of Rashi are based on a Gemara in Sukka which identifies the various Minim. There is, however, an additional Pshat that is found in the Gemara, but not Rashi. Rebi teaches that the word “Hadar” can also be read as “HaDir”, which means “the corral”. Rebi continues: “Mah Dir Zeh Yesh Bo Gedolim U’Ketanim Temimim U’Balei Mumin Hachi Nami…” A pen contains many different types of animals—large, small, perfect ones or otherwise—so too the fruit produces by the Etz Hadar is not uniform but varied in nature.

These three Pshatim—the two brought by Rashi and the additional found in the Gemarah—teach us why the Esrog tree, which meets all three requirements is knowns as the Etz Hadar, and why we take its fruit as one of the Minim. If we look at the literal meaning of these words, however, an interesting question can be raised.

Taken literally, the words “Pri Etz Hadar” mean “the fruits of a beautiful tree”. Malbim, in Parshas Kedoshim offers a more precise definition of the words “Hadar”: “HaHadar Hu HaYofi HaChitzoni HaMeyuchad Lakol Davar”. This word refers specifically to the external beauty of the subject, as opposed to an internal beauty or essence.

It is interesting, and important, to note that none of the three Pshatim found in Chazal seem to relate to the literal meaning of this term. Neither the taste of the Esrog, nor the amount of time it spends on its tree, nor the fact that there are different types of Esrogim on each tree, seem to relate to the meaning of the word “Hadar”. Why is this the case? Why do none of the criteria for “Pri Etz Hadar” seem to relate to actual the concept of “Hadar”?

Important as it is to understand how the Divrei Chazal fit with the words of the Passuk, it seems that there is a more general question to be asked here as well.

The term “Hadar” is used in the Passuk to refer only to the Esrog, the Pri Etz Hadar. Chazal, however, seem to apply this requirement to the other Minim as well. For example, the Gemarah at the beginning of Perek Lulav HaGazel assumes that a Lulav which has dried out is Passul because “Hadar B’Inan V’Leka”, it does not meet the requirement of Hadar. The Gemarah, later, teaches that there is a Hekesh from Esrog to the other Minim which teaches us that they all have a requirement of Hadar. It is this requirement of Hadar that drives the selection process of the Arba Minim. The hours spent searching for the perfect specimen of each Min are due to our goal of finding ones that are “Meudar”, the most Hadar.

Why?

Why, when it comes to the Mitzvah of Daled Minim are we so concerned with the external beauty, the Hadar? The Torah speaks about a “Pri Etz Hadar”, which Chazal define in terms unrelated to physical appearance, and then we take that word and apply it to the other Minim, creating a requirement that is based totally on the external? Why is this so? Although there is a general requirement of Hidur Mitzvah, learned from the words “Zeh Keli V’Anvehu”, there seems to be a particular emphasis on external beauty when it comes to the Arba Minim. Why is this the case?

Perhaps the answer lies in a deeper understanding of the word “Hadar”.

Throughout Tanach, when we find the word “Hadar” it is often paired with the tern “Hod”, as in the Passuk “Hadar Kavod Hodecha V’Divrei Niflosecha Asicha” and others. Rav Hutner, in Pachad Yitzchok to Chanukah, explains the relationship between these two words.

The key to understanding these terms, notes the Rosh HaYeshiva, is a Gemara in Taanis: “L’Olam Yihei Adam Rach KaKaneh V’Al Yihei Kasha K’Erez.” The Gemarah explains that a person should be soft like a reed, and not hard like a cedar tree, because a reed can bend in a fierce wind, but a cedar cannot. Rav Hutner explains this Gemarah in his signature style: generally, we would assume that bending is a sign of weakness, but in the case of the Kaneh we see that it is in fact a characteristic of great strength. The flexibility that allows the reed to survive a storm is therefore a strength cloaked in weakness—an example of Hod. True beauty, explains Rav Hutner is found in contrast, which is the type of beauty expressed by Hod.

Hadar, continues R’ Hutner is the result of Hod. When the reed is bending in the storm, there is no beauty to be seen—it is only after the winds subside and the reed stands tall once again that its true strength is revealed. This splendor, which comes from Hod, is known as Hadar. The word “Hadar”, then, is an expression of beauty that tells us what the object has undergone, specifically in contrast what may have seemed.

Let us apply the words of the Rosh Hayeshiva to the three explanations in the Gemarah. The concept of “Hadar B’Ilano M’shana L’Shana” is easily understood through this lens: the Esrog has weathered the seasons of the year, varied as they may have been, and its beauty is thus classified as Hadar—evidence of survival. The words of Rebi, “Mah Dir Zeh Yesh Bo Gedolim U’Ketanim Temimim U’Balei Mumin”, can be understood in this light as well: the Esrogim on a given tree are not identical, each displaying the results of its individual development. The beauty of these varied specimens is too evidence of their unique journeys—Hadar in every sense of the word.

What then of the first explanation of the Gemarah, “Etz She’Tamo U’Piryo Shaveh”? How does this display Hadar?

The answer can be found in a Medrash in Beraishis Rabba which tells us that the intent of HKBH was that each tree should be Etz She’Tamo U’Piryo Shaveh, as the Passuk tells us “Etz Pri Oseh Pri L’minehu”, but the earth did not listen. There was one tree, however, that produces fruit in the intended manner: the Esrog. This characteristic of the Esrog tree, Etz She’Tamo U’Piryo Shaveh, is an expression of Hadar as well: it reveals that which the species did generations ago, when it fulfilled the Tzivuy of Hashem, contrary to its peers.

We now understand that the three opinions in the Gemara may disagree as to how the term “Hadar” applies to the Esrog, but they are in concert when it comes to the goal. When we seek Hadar in the Arba Minim, we are not looking for external perfection, but for beauty that reveals a journey, that tells of survival.

We can now understand why it is on Sukkos specifically that we spend so much time and effort in the pursuit of Hadar. We have undergone the Avodah of Elul and the Aseres Yimei Teshuva and, if we have done so properly, our faults have been exposed. Through the true Chesbon HaNefesh that these days compel we have come to recognize the areas in which we are lacking, the vast chasm that exists between our reality and our potential.

Enter the Yom Tov of Hadar. We take the Arba Minim and remember that the truest beauty emanates from survival. Yes, our Ruchnias may have been through a storm, but the process of Teshuva cleanses us and allows us to stand tall. We come to Sukkos secure in the knowledge that Yom Kippur was Mechaper, that we have attained Tahara, and that is our Hadar.

It is no surprise, then, that the Torah ties the Arba Minim to the Simcha of Yom Tov: what greater joy is there than celebrating our journey of the last forty days, indeed of our lives? We take the Arba Minim, themselves selected with attention not only to beauty, but to Hadar—beauty which tells a story. With these Minim in hand we come before Hashem in true Simcha, knowing that our relationship has been restored, that we are as ever, his treasured children.

The Simcha of the Daled Minim is “Lifnei Hashem”, the same term used to describe the Tahara of Yom Kippur—this is no mistake because, as we now understand, the two are connected. It is on Sukkos, with our Lulav and Esrog in hand, that we can truly appreciate the Tahara of Yom Kippur and the Hadar with which we now shine.