Only this year did I finally understand what has bothered me so much about the beloved and familiar midrash about the Four Species that I have known since kindergarten. Among the many midrashim about the Four Species, one of the best known explains the different qualities of each species and what they represent: ”The fruit of a hadar tree” – this is Israel; just as the citron has taste and has fragrance, so Israel has people among them who have Torah and have good deeds.” (Vayikra Rabbah, 30:12)
Fragrance, then, symbolizes good deeds, while taste represents (knowledge? proficiency? of) Torah. You remember how it continues, right? The lulav (that is, the date palm) has taste but no fragrance; the myrtle has fragrance but no taste; and the poor willow has neither.
And here comes the midrashic punchline - how are we to deal with these wildly unequal abilities? ”And what does the Holy One, blessed be He, do to them? To destroy them is impossible, but rather the Holy One, blessed be He, said "bind them all together [into] one grouping and these will atone for those." And if you will have done that, I will be elevated at that time”. (Ibid).
What a beautiful midrash about mutual responsibility and solidarity. Those who have taste and fragrance will stand up for those whose lot has been less fortunate. The good deeds and Torah greatness are shared among everyone.
And yet, here is the unease I have carried with me since pre-school: Are there people who are really empty of positive qualities, devoid of any kind of brilliance? And what about people who have brilliance, but whose brilliance is harmful? Who has “taste,” but whose taste is lethal?
Memories from the Date-Packing House
I had an Arabic teacher in high school who kept a meticulous list of her students and their abilities according to categories: “troublemaker,” “quiet,” “intelligent,” “diligent,” and so on. ( On rare occasions, a student was moved from one column to another; most of us remained in “our” column until we graduated.
What did my teacher accomplish by dividing us into “types,” and what function does this categorisation serve in the midrash? Reducing the fullness and complexity of us as human beings to a single characteristic diminishes our status as creatures created in the image of God.
Furthermore, where does the demand that we be packaged together and united in “one bundle” take us - a package of unity and agreement? In recent years, we have learned all too well about the silencing and paralyzing side of the demand for unity. Perhaps we need to go one step further and ask: What is a “type,” anyway?
When I lived in Kibbutz Lotan, I was fortunate to spend many hours gazing at dates while sorting them in the packing house. I discovered that it is impossible to speak simply of “the date.” It was not a single entity: the mighty Medjool (which has since taken over the market), the golden Deglet Noor, the modest Khadrawi, and others. But even within each kind there is significant diversity, depending on how much sun and water the cluster received, when it was harvested, and whether it was handled gently, or whether it ended up wrinkled and misshapen beyond recognition. Every date has its own story, I discovered during the many hours when the dates passed before me on the conveyor belt "Like sheep passing one by one under the shepherd's staff".
Indeed, why shouldn’t we celebrate the multiplicity of tastes and fragrances, appearances and textures - the unique qualities of each species? Why force them into a restrictive mold?
Diversity and Mutual Responsibility
Our task is to learn how to be together, not in order to diminish our diversity, and not only so that we can atone for one another, but in order to enrich one another and expand the common good. Our delight in the multiplicity of faces and qualities must not cause us to forget something important: not every taste and not every fragrance is good, and we will not agree to accept them all.
The Talmud offers an interesting explanation for why these particular Four Species were chosen from among all the species in nature: ”Because these four kinds grow on water, they become attorneys for water.”
(Talmud Yerushalmi, Ta'anit 1:1)
Each of the species has a significant connection to water, and so they serve as our advocates, as it were, when we come to pray for rain on Shemini Atzeret. The shaking of the branches of the Four Species also evokes the sound of rain, and perhaps this was one of the ritual’s earliest functions.
Their special connection to water teaches us that despite all the difference, multiplicity, and diversity, there is something shared by all species and varieties, by all beings: we all need water, and by extension, we all need basic conditions in order to exist and to thrive.
In our region today, too, water is a precious resource, one that is often managed politically, exploitatively, and discriminatorily. Therefore, even as we seek to celebrate the diversity and uniqueness of each and every one of us, we must not forget that every creature needs conditions that allow it to flourish. When those conditions are violated, its very existence is endangered.

When we bind the Four Species together this year, let us ask: Which parts, qualities, and aspects of ourselves do we want to gather into one bundle? What will we leave aside? And what must we reject with disgust from our bundle?
And let us continue to struggle for a just existence for all the inhabitants of the world.
Chag sameach, and may it be filled with blessing!
More about the Four Species and their symbolism can be found here:
More about the Four Species and their symbolism
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Rabbi Dalia Marx, Professor of Liturgy at Hebrew Union College–Jerusalem. Visit her website: www.dalia-marx.com