I received this message on my Whats App: Born before Sep. 4, 1998? Congratulations! You are older than Google.
So I just told my kids I’m older than Google. They think I am joking. I told them: Actually, I’m like Google’s granddaddy. Yet Google knows me better than my wife knows me.
The holiday of Succot starting this evening we buy the four species mandated by the Torah. The lulav (palm branch) with its accompanying willow and myrtle stems are easily chosen. But choosing the Etrog, citron, is an entirely different matter. For the most exquisite Etrog, you need to spend time studying the hundreds of yellow lemon-like fruits at your local Etrog dealer. The story of the Etrog is one of the most fascinating and complicated in Jewish history. One aspect of this story, I will share today.
The Etrog citron is a fruit with thousands of years of human use, famous for its pleasing, room-filling aroma. Originally from India, Etrog is one of the oldest cultivated citrus plants. Archaeologists have uncovered seeds in Mesopotamia dating back to more than 5000 years ago. The ancient Egyptians used Etrog in embalming mummies; the more prosaic Romans found it an effective moth repellent.
Its unique Jewish role begins with an “innocent” verse in the book of Leviticus: ”And on the first day you shall take for yourselves the fruit of a beautiful tree… and you shall rejoice with it before the Lord your G-d seven days”.
But what is considered a “the fruit of a beautiful tree.”?
The oral tradition from Sinai is very clear: the fruit we take today and have used for thousands of years is the Etrog, known scientifically as Citrus Medica. The great 12th-century sage, The Maimonides, writes that from the days of Moses, Jews transmitted the tradition from generation to generation that it was referring to the Etrog.
The great 13th-century sage, The Nachmanadies, takes it a step further. According to him, the term “Hadar” beautiful, desirable, is the actual name of the Etrog.
The word ‘Etrog’ itself is the Aramaic translation of the Hebrew word Hadar. Both words meaning desired or beautiful. Thus, when it says in Genesis that Eve saw a desirable tree it means she saw an Etrog tree. Indeed, according to the Midrash, the Etrog was the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden.
Now, Torah law does not permit tree grafting. The Torah wants us to preserve the integrity and individuality of each fruit species.
The primary reason given for this is that a branch from an Etrog tree grafted onto a lemon tree grows not Etrogim, but rather a new type of fruit: an Etrog-lemon hybrid. The produce may appear as an Etrog and share its properties, but in reality, it is not an Etrog; it is a halachic speaking, new type of fruit—the combination of two distinct trees. In their eyes, it would be like using a mongo for an Etrog—it is not the fruit the Torah specified to use for Sukkos!
“If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck,” is the old saying. Not with the Etrog! It looks like an Etrog, it smells like an Etrog, it has the color of the Etrog—but it is not an Etrog! It is a different fruit.
The great halachic authorities determined that there are four physical characteristics that distinguish between a grafted and non-grafted Etrogim.
(1) Smooth Skinned:
The skin of a grafted Etrog is smooth, more like a lemon, whereas a pure Etrog has a bumpy surface.
(2) Outward Stemmed
The stem of a grafted Etrog looks like a lemon’s stem, which sticks up from the bottom of the lemon, instead of being embedded inward like that of an Etrog.
(3) More Pulp:
A grafted Etrog has a lot of edible fruit and juice in it and a thin peel, whereas a pure Etrog has a thick peel and little juicy flesh. The peel of the Etrog, the rind, is the fruit, and the pulp in the Etrog is a very small part of it, and it is dry.
(4) Disoriented Seeds
In a regular Etrog, the seeds grow in the same direction as the length of the fruit, whereas grafted Etrogim often have their seeds growing like a lemon’s, in the same direction as the width of the fruit. The seeds do not follow the structure of the fruit.
Every physical phenomenon in the botanic kingdom has its origin in the spiritual. These four signs to distinguish the genuine Etrog from the non-genuine Etrog may be reflective of the four spiritual and psychological features that distinguish the genuine person from the fake one:
(1) The skin of the fake Etrog is smooth, like the lemon. Fake life is a smooth life. A real-life, especially a real-life of someone dedicated to the service of G-d, is bumpy. We have ups and downs; we fluctuate between various moods, feelings, and experiences. The real Jew must navigate a bumpy ride on a bumpy surface. The life of the Jew is not one that is always smooth sailing, but it is filled with battles and conflicts. The sign of your achievement is not how smooth you are, but rather if you know to utilize your bumps in your spiritual growth, becoming part of your Divine service, as we do with the Etrog on Sukkot.
(2) The stem is the part of the Etrog, where it is connected to its source. In the fake Etrog, the stem sticks out from the bottom of the fruit; it is not embedded in it. In the Etrog, the steam penetrates the Etrog itself.
We are all connected to our source, we all have in us a “stem,” some form of an umbilical cord. But here is the difference. For one person, the source remains attached to him or her, but it is not inside of them. It remains external to them. The real Etrog does not only come from a source; the source is etched inside of him; it penetrates him. It makes a real dent within him. What he learned from his past, he internalized. What he was given from his past, become a real part of who he or she is today.
(3) In a grafted Etrog, there is a distinction between the peel and the pulp (the edible fruit). The outer and inner are two distinct entities. With the real Etrog, on the other hand, the peel is the fruit, or the fruit is the peel. As we recall, the Talmud defined the rare feature of the Etrog in that even the bark of the tree, shares the flavor of the fruit. In true holiness, there is no distinction between my outer self and my inner self. I am the same person on the outside and on the inside. I am not double-faced. There are no cover-ups, no deceptiveness, and no fakeness, in my life. I am who I am.
(4) Finally, in the authentic Etrog, the seeds grow in the same direction as the structure and height of the fruit, whereas grafted Etrogim often have their seeds growing horizontally, in the same direction as the width of the fruit.
What is the symbolism of this?
The Talmud relates a story:
A man was traveling through the desert, hungry, thirsty, and tired, when he came upon a tree bearing luscious fruit and affording plenty of shade, underneath which ran a spring of water. He ate of the fruit, drank of the water, and rested beneath the shade.
When he was about to leave, he turned to the tree and said:
“Tree, O Tree, with what should I bless you?
“Should I bless you that your fruit is sweet? Your fruit is already sweet.
“Should I bless you that your shade is plentiful? Your shade is plentiful. That a spring of water should run beneath you? A spring of water runs beneath you.
“There is one thing with which I can bless you: May it be G-d’s will that all the trees planted from your seeds should be like you.”
There is a story in a Yiddish book from the Middle Ages about a mother bird that was walking down the forest road with three baby birds when the little family came to a stream. The stream was too deep for the baby birds to walk across and too far for them to go around. So the mother bird asked the first baby bird:
"If I pick you up and carry you across the stream, how will you repay me?" The baby bird answered:
"At the next stream we come to, I'll pick you up and carry you across." The mother said: "That's a silly answer. You're too small to carry me across." She asked the same question of the second fledgling, and it answered: "When I'm grown up, I'll carry you across streams."
The mother bird shook her head and said: "Even when you're grown up, I won't need you to get across streams."
Then she turned to the third bird who answered:
"Someday I'll be a mother bird and I'll have babies of my own, and I'll do all the things for them that you've done for me."
But are we doing that for our children? Are we doing for them what our parents did for us?
Every person in this room has a very real sense of Jewish identity, that’s why you’re here. We have our parents and grandparents to thank for that identity. We are their seeds. It is because of their commitment to Jewish observance, to Shabbat, Kosher and Torah education, to Mitzvot, to a passion for Judaism and its values that you and I are here today.
In the real Etrog, the seed—representing its offspring, its power to reproduce itself over generations—follow the direction of the fruit structure. In a less-than real Etrog, the seeds do their own thing… they go in their own direction.
Some of us may look strangely at this entire phenomenon. What were Jews arguing about? An Etrog used for seven days? Common!
The way I see it, though, is different. It is the ultimate story of loyalty and love. 3400 years ago, G-d gave us a mitzvah. “I want you to take a beautiful fruit, from a beautiful tree, an Etrog, on the holiday of Sukkot.” We are still trying to get it right! What a story of love!
It is like your wife telling you: Please, you are going out, get me a milkshake, with vanilla ice cream on the top, with some chocolate mousse mixed in, and do not forget smashed cookie dough, whipped cream, a little Carmel, and espresso in it, and some brandy to add spice.
For the next 3000 years, this poor guy is going from coffee shop to coffee shop trying to come back home with the EXACT drink his wife requested. Yes, on the way, he gets into some arguments with other men what she meant, and why she meant it. But he does not give up.
Three millennia ago the Creator of the world told us He wants the Etrog. And each year we show up with the Etrog, ensuring that it is the most real, authentic, genuine Etrog in the world. We don’t look for short cuts; we are not deceived by looks. We want to give our beloved the real thing.
This is the story of the Jewish people—it is ultimately a story of a never-ending romance with G-d.
Shabbat Shalom and a Happy Sukkot,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky
Tom Peacock wrote...