At the fall harvest festival of Sukkot and just as the seasons are turning, we leave our homes and dwell in temporary structures. One of these is called a סוכה sukkah and in the plural, סוכות sukkot (and thus, the name of the holiday). The walls usually let in the cool breeze or, as is more likely here in Israel, the scorching hamsin winds blowing in off the desert, and the roofs, made of branches, are open enough to see stars at night or let in the first rain of the year, היורה ha-Yoreh. This new year, תשס"ח 5768, is also the שמיטה shemitah year, a sabbatical year for the Land (which comes every seventh year) when we don't cultivate our land or harvest its produce. It is also שנה מעוברת shana meuveret, a leap year; we add a leap month (we will have two months of Adar!) so, we end up with 383 days. Israel will celebrate her 60th birthday this year.

We Jews also have a very odd, very wonderful ritual we do each morning during Sukkot. We bundle together willow, palm, myrtle and, together with a funny-looking lemon, we shake them in different directions. They are called the ארבעה מינים arba'a minim or the Four Species. All sorts of symbolism is attributed to these elements. One has frangrance and fruit, one has neither. The other two have either one or the other.

Okay, now shake: east, south, west and north, then, up and down.

I came to this mitzvah of shaking the four species later in life than some and didn't really know what to make of it. Was it like a Christmas tree/Yule log, a custom drawn from some Pagan heritage? I didn't really have any specific associations tying the four spieces to each other or to Sukkot. I did, however, have a connection to the individual elements ~ and that was a place to begin. What are your first/memorable Sukkot recollections?

Many a happy hour of my boyhood was spent in the arms of a huge, old aravah (willow). Once I learned Hebrew, I discovered that ערבה willow (feminine singular) has an irregular, masculine-looking plural: ערבים aravim ~ which looks and sounds exactly like ערבים aravim, Arabs. On weekdays, we begin ברכת המזון Birkat ha-Mazon (Grace after Meals) by chanting Psalm 137. (Think Don McLean: "B---y the wa---ters, the wa---ters of Babylon..." In Hebrew, I learned 'Arab' before I picked up 'willow' and so, I was confused about why we would "hang our lyres on the Arabs."

Psalm 137:1-4
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How shall we sing the LORD's song in a strange land?

Okay, now you may hum a little Bob Marley.

I first encountered לולב lulav (palm) as a boy, going with my father who was Catholic to Mass on Palm Sunday and later, working in the date plantation on the kibbutz. There are also date trees all over campus, and a nice grove next to the university synagogue where I often sit in the shade and read. There is somewhat less shade these days as the trees were just pruned and the branches used for the roofs of our campus sukkot. The bundle of palm, myrtle and willow is called lulav, too, as it is usually bound with a woven palm frond),

הדס hadas (myrtle) grows around the Mediterranean basin and in Oregon; I knew from mythology that it was sacred to Aphrodite. On a roadtrip from San Francisco north with my family, I recall that, once we passed Mendecino and the Redwoods, we started seeing "Myrtlewood" shops. Mrytle grows everywhere here, but it is much more bush-like (often grown as a hedge) than tree-like. I cannot imagine anyone finding myrtle trunks in Israel big enough to carve salad bowls out of. I love the intoxicating scent.

אתרוג etrog (citron) entered my world in the form of marmalade I sampled at a friend's home in Jerusalem. Since my last name is Dewar and the marmalade in question was made with Dewar's White Label Scotch, I was told I had to try it. While I generally like to try new things, what a way to ruin marmalade ~ not to mention to over-power the lovely, lemony scent of the etrog! When I returned from Jerusalem to Portland in 1990, my חברותא chavruta (study partner) Berel Levertov (now, the Chabbad shaliach in Santa Fe) sent me my very first etrog and lulav set.

This morning, I was thinking what a nice practice this all is. It's not about where we begin or what we start with in life, although, in a way, we acknowledge that, too. It's not about where we may go in the future, although we shake our lulav and etrog in every possible direction. Instead, it is about the meaning and joy we create right here, in our temporary sukkah homes.

Okay, now it's time to get your shake on.

This was filmed in the center of the new city in downtown Jerusalem:


Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sukkot Same'ach!
שבת שלום וחג סוכות שמח

Tags: aravah, bob marley, don mclean, etrog, hadas, jewish shakers, leap year, lulav, marmalade, scotch, sukkot
Current Mood: ecstatic