Surely all of you have at some point heard the quintessential Sukkos Dvar Torah. It was no doubt handed to you by your third grade Rebbi on one of those mimeographed sheets – you know, the ones with the purple ink. At the time, you probably just held the paper up to your face and inhaled the fumes (it's scary to think that the leaders of tomorrow have probably been exposed to enough mimeograph fumes to stun a large mammal), but let's return to that classic Vort.

   It goes something like this: Just as each of the Arba Minim possesses attributes of both taste and smell, so too can Jews have qualities of Torah study and good deeds. Torah is "taste" and good Midos are "smell". The Esrog, which is tasty (debatable) and fragrant, represents the Jew who is both studious and gracious. The Lulav, which comes from the (tasty) date palm yet has no scent, corresponds to the Jew who studies yet is not a Baal Midos. The Arava, which is not particularly fragrant and has all the epicurean qualities of a bag of garden mulch, represents the Jew who is bereft of both Torah and good deeds, and so on and so forth.

   The Dvar Torah culminates in a mushy cathartic hug by proclaiming that all of the different "species" of Jews are held up together on Sukkos in a dramatic show of unity that would bring the produce aisle to tears. But are all the four species as "equal" as they sound in this cute little Vort? Are some, perhaps, a little more equal than others?

   Here's a question: Which of the four species do you think we should make the Bracha on? Common sense seems to suggest the Esrog. For starters, the Esrog is the first species mentioned in the relevant Biblical passage (Pri Eitz Hadar…). In addition, it is the most expensive of the Arba Minim, and arguably the one to which the Halachic quality-control literature pays the most attention. Finally, in terms of our Dvar Torah, it is the most prominent – it corresponds to the Jew who is proficient in both Torah study and good deeds.

   But most of you are thinking, "Hey, we make the Bracha on the Lulav, don't we?", and running to check your Artscrolls. Well, I’ll save you the trip to your dad’s study – you’re right. So why do we make the Bracha on the Lulav (Al Netilas Lulav…), when logic would seem to dictate otherwise?

   Well, let's look at which Jew the Lulav represents. It's the Torah scholar who doesn't care about other people's feelings. The Rabbis are trying to tell us something here. If they would have prescribed a Bracha on the Esrog, we wouldn't know if the Esrog was being honored because of its taste (Torah) or smell (good deeds). By instituting a Bracha on the Lulav, the Rabbis are making a clear statement that Torah is more important. The Lulav is what counts here, even though it would shed its leaves on your front lawn and ask you to clean them up. Sure, the Dvar Torah above seems to state that all types of Jews are unified as one, but who are we making the Bracha on here? Who's jutting out two feet above everyone else's head? – The Yeshiva Guy.

   I think that in light of our taste/smell Dvar Torah, the Brachas are totally messed up. Is that what Judaism needs right now? More Lulavs? More people to simply sit and learn and not give anything back to their communities? No way. We need to be focusing on the Aravas here – the people who know nothing about Judaism. If we really believe in this religion of ours, we should be thinking about the tens of thousands of people (Frum AND traditional) who have not been exposed to the warmth of Judaism. It's hard to do that when you're sitting in the third row from the back in a Beis Medrash counting the number of pleats on the person next to you’s black dress pants.

   But what do we do to the Aravas? We wait until Hoshana Rabbah, then we beat the crap out of them of the floor and chuck them halfway across the Shul. We just whip them at the Aron Kodesh, as if to say, "Here, God, you deal with these worthless things".

   "Al Netilas Arava" is what we should be saying here. And while we're on the topic of Lulav-bashing, we mentioned earlier that the Lulav tastes good, representing Torah. No it doesn't. In actuality, it comes from the date palm, which has tasty fruit on it. Just because you're a "Lulav" – just because you learn – doesn't mean you have any intrinsic value. The "taste" that you have comes from your association with the date tree (Torah). Just because you have a Gemara in your hand doesn't mean that you "taste" any better. You've got to work on that, long and hard.

   And what about the Esrog? Sure, the Dvar Torah says that all the Minim come together as one – but look at the holy Esrog (the Jew with Torah and good deeds). He just stays in his little silver box all day, wrapped in that brown hairy coat. He doesn't seem to care to mingle much with the other Jews, does he?

   Lots of things need to be rearranged here. The Lulav should be about three feet shorter, we should be making the Bracha on the Aravas and stop beating the crap out of them and the Esrog needs to get out and see the world a bit more, instead of hibernating in his beautiful isolated silver home. He wouldn't want the Aravas coming into his box and messing the place up with their wet leaves now, would he?  

The writer is a Recovering Lulav  from Toronto, Canada.