Sometimes the things that become part of Jewish life are not the things anyone planned or designed to become traditions. Sukkot and the Four Species teach us that every Jew has a different role, and that at every stage of life, there is something unique that we can contribute to the whole.
The News
Yesterday, I received eight different texts and emails from people telling me that they had bad news. After the first one, I was concerned. Then I received another one, and another one, and another one. By the time I had received eight different messages telling me that there was bad news, I started to get scared. I thought something serious had happened.
Then I found out what the bad news was. Sunkist Fruit Gems had stopped production. Apparently, people are very worried.
There are certain products that somehow become part of Jewish life, without anyone ever deciding that they should become that way. Sunkist Fruit Gems, colorful Sunkist jelly candies, were one of them. They were at Bar Mitzvahs, Bat Mitzvahs, Aufrufs, Purim parties, synagogue events, and Mishloach Manot for decades. It is part of every Jew’s childhood.
Now they are gone.
It turns out that the company that produced them stopped making those popular candies because nationwide demand was not sufficient to justify continuing production. The announcement did not exactly become international news, and most people probably did not even know that anything had happened until wholesalers began running out of inventory and customers discovered that they could no longer order them.
Apparently, the nationwide demand calculation did not include the number of Jews who, for decades, spent their time throwing these candies at one another in synagogue.
The candies were never created specifically for Jewish celebrations, and nobody intentionally decided to adopt them as the official community candy. They simply fit the role almost perfectly. They were kosher, individually wrapped, relatively inexpensive, available in large quantities, and unlike quite a few other candies, you could throw them around the synagogue without giving someone a concussion.
Over the years, they became so common at Jewish celebrations that in some synagogues, Sunkist Fruit Gems were even specifically mentioned in Bar and Bat Mitzvah guidelines, with recommendations to use them because they were kosher, wrapped, and soft enough to throw.
From the company’s perspective, perhaps it was simply another product line that did not sell enough across the country. But at least for some candy wholesalers, the demand is still very real. One of the largest wholesalers said that his company sold more than 1,000 pounds of these candies last year.
But there is good news. “There is a replacement.” Nassau Candy has launched soft, kosher, individually wrapped jelly candies in orange, lemon, grapefruit, and other flavors.
The candy throwing will continue. Children will still crawl under the synagogue benches and collect whatever they can find after the “Mazel Tov.” Grooms and Bar Mitzvah boys will continue to learn that standing on the Bima while several dozen people throw things at you is, apparently, considered a sign of affection.
These candies, without anyone planning it, became something that united Jews all across America, young and old, women and men, religious and nonreligious. A small candy became part of a tradition that brings people joy and connects people.
And that is exactly what Sukkot comes to teach us, especially through the Four Species. Four different species, but only when they are brought together do we have one mitzvah.
Four Seasons of a Jewish Life
It is well known that the Four Species teach us that not every Jew looks the same. There is a Jew who is like an etrog, who has both Torah and good deeds. There is the lulav, a person whose main focus in life is Torah. There is the hadas, a person whose main focus is good deeds, while also setting aside regular times for Torah study. And there is the aravah, a person who has neither Torah nor good deeds.
“But,” says the Rebbe, “nevertheless, the Arava has the virtue that they ‘grow in brotherhood,’ meaning that their purpose is to bring about unity and peace among all the Jewish people.”
And the Rebbe adds an interesting point in the talk:
“Although there are four species, nevertheless, in the blessing we do not mention all four species, but rather we say the blessing ‘for taking the lulav’ specifically:
The etrog has both taste and fragrance. This alludes to a Jew who devotes part of the day to Torah study, but must devote the rest of the day to mitzvot and good deeds, because he has already entered the world and Torah is no longer his sole occupation. Yet, in this particular respect, the lulav has an advantage over the etrog. Those whose occupation is Torah and who remain in the tent of Torah throughout the day have an advantage even over the etrog, because the etrog already has a connection to the world and Torah is not his sole occupation, even though he engages with the world in order to fulfill his mission from G-d, but still he is not dedicated solely to learning Torah.
Therefore, when we need to begin the work of the entire year, it is not enough to have the type of work in which one engages in Torah as much as possible. The beginning of the year needs to be in the manner of the work of the lulav, that Torah is his occupation.”
And the Rebbe adds that this is also true in the life of a person:
“And as we see in the life of a person in particular, as preparation for the time when he goes out into the world, there are the years of education, during which he is taught Torah so that he will know how to conduct himself in life afterward. The same is true every single day, that first there must be the matter of prayer, and afterward, ‘from the synagogue to the house of study,’ to learn a portion of Torah. And this gives him the instruction and the strength so that afterward he will be able to go outside, outside his home, outside the synagogue, and outside the house of study, and conduct himself there like an etrog, which ‘has taste and has fragrance.'” (Torat Menachem, Vol. 18, p. 30.)
Based on the Rebbe’s words, we can perhaps say that the Four Species do not symbolize only four types of Jews, but also four periods in the life of a Jew.
A person begins his life as a lulav. These are the years of childhood and youth, the years when his primary role is to learn Torah. A child does not yet need to support a family and carry the responsibilities of life. A yeshiva student can sit for many long hours and study. This is the time of life when Torah is the main thing, “Torah is his occupation.”
Then the person goes out into the world. He gets married, builds a family, needs to work and earn a living. Now he represents the etrog. It has both taste and fragrance. He continues to learn Torah, but at the same time he lives within the world and engages in mitzvot, family, charity, kindness, and helping others.
Then comes a later stage in life. A person retires, and it becomes harder for him to sit and concentrate for many long hours studying as he was able to do when he was younger. But now, he has the time and ability to increase his good deeds, give charity, pray, help in the synagogue, and perform acts of kindness for others. This is the hadas. It has fragrance, symbolizing primarily mitzvot and good deeds, although of course he also continues to set aside regular times for Torah study.
And finally comes a period when a person’s strength becomes even weaker. Perhaps it is already difficult to study as he once did, and perhaps it is even difficult to do everything he once did. Seemingly, this is the aravah. It has neither taste nor fragrance.
But here the Rebbe teaches a wonderful new idea. The aravah has a remarkable virtue that none of the other species has. Our Sages describe it as one that grows “in brotherhood,” in unity.
Sometimes an elderly grandfather can no longer study as he once did and can no longer accomplish as much as he once did. But when the family gathers around him, children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, he is the one who brings everyone together. The value of a Jew is not measured only by how much he is able to do at this moment. His very presence is what unites everyone. He is the glue of the family.
And in the words of the Rebbe, “their purpose is to bring about unity and peace among all the Jewish people.”
And that unity is precisely what will bring the Redemption, speedily in our days, ממש.
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