Traditionally, the Shavuos holiday finds homes and synagogues decorated with tree branches and greenery. If this is intended to awaken in us a reminiscence of the great outdoors where Mattan Torah took place, it is certainly effective in conjuring up a deeply-seated-in-our-conscience memory of the finest moment in our collective existence. For we were all there, each and every one of us, at the foot of Mount Sinai, to accept God’s word – communicated to us by the Almighty in person.
The fearfulness triggered by every breathtaking syllable that emanated from the Almighty Himself is said to have, at the outset, caused neshamos to depart from the people. How, then, were they able to perceive the utterances that followed? Hashem revived the lifeless forms with a sampling of the dew that He has reserved for the resurrection of the dead when Moshiach will come.
To add to the headiness already brought on by the extraordinarily unusual divine phenomenon and surreal environment, every word uttered by the Master of the Universe imbued the atmosphere with a heavenly scent of besamim (aromatic spices). This is what our display of sweet-smelling blossoms alludes to.
“u’piryoi matok l’chiki... and the fruit of His Torah is sweet to my palate” (Shir Hashirim 2:3) King Solomon likens the Torah to sweet fruit.
Branches with their still-clinging green leaves that we gather and tuck into every accessible crevice to embellish our dwelling places are meant to bring to mind that on this holiday the fruit of the trees are judged, and that we are to beseech Hashem to do so favorably and thus provide us with a succulent and pleasing crop.
Intriguing: On Tu b’Shvat, when the trees celebrate their new year, we festively partake of their luscious fruit. Yet now, when it is the fruit being touted, we preoccupy ourselves with the trees. Not all that baffling, actually, when one considers that the offspring of a righteous person is held to a higher standard in the Heavenly Court than are the children of the unrighteous. Correspondingly, parents are credited – or penalized – for the manner in which they raised their children.
On Tu B’Shvat we extol the merits of the trees by singing the praises of their succulent fruit (offspring), while on Shavuos we wax lyrical about the worthiness of the trees and their branches, in order that their fruit be judged favorably. (Sort of like our invoking the memory of our Patriarchs and Matriarchs in our prayers.)
“Keshoshana bein hachochim” – like a rose among the thorns (Shir Hashirim 2:2). The disenchanting experience of shopping the Torah around to all the nations on earth had God almost giving up on the human race. But the Jewish nation came up smelling like a rose and redeemed mankind in the eyes of Hashem. When the Jews declared Naaseh v’Nishmah without vacillation, Hashem determined that in the merit of His one sweet-smelling rose, the world would be saved. Hence we adorn our homes and houses of worship with the fragrant blooms.
To Believe Is to Achieve
In the city of Ostrow one Shavuos three prominent tzaddikim – the city’s rav, the town’s maggid, and the renowned tzaddik R’ Pinchas’l of Koritz, all talmidim of the eminent Baal Shem Tov – were deliberating the inyan of spreading grass on the ground on this holiday.
Their interpretations varied one from the other, the Gemara concurring with none satisfactorily. R’ Pinchas’l, aware of the greatness of the ailing R’ Hirsch who lived in a rundown hovel on the outskirts of Ostrow, suggested they visit the impoverished old man to wish him a good Yom Tov and perchance he would offer some illuminating insights. After all, R’ Pinchas’l had once heard hisrebbe, the great chassidic master himself, declare that it was the zechus (merit) of R’ Hirsch that protected the town from various adversities.
The tzaddikim found R’ Hirsch sitting on his bed engrossed in the Shulchan Aruch. He asked them to be seated on the only other furnishing in the bare room – a broken bench that leaned against a wall for support. R’ Hirsch, in response to their quandary, expounded on a narration in the Gemara:
R’ Ada had once decided to leave his home and family in order to spend his time learning in a yeshiva. To his wife’s voiced concern regarding their children’s welfare and how she would go about feeding them in his absence, R’ Ada proffered simply “Mi shelimu kurmei b’agmah? – Has all the grass in the field dispersed?
R’ Hirsch intoned, “Now what kind of an answer is that? And yet his wife was appeased. Did he mean to infer that she take her hungry children out to the field and feed them grass, like the animals? Animals, lacking the intelligence to seek parnassa, are entirely dependent on their Creator’s benevolence. Had man not deemed to act against God’s directive and eat from the eitz hadaas (Tree of Knowledge), he too would have basked in the bounteousness of his Creator without sweat or headache. But since he thought himself to be smart enough to be his own boss, he now scrambles for a living by constant exertion.
“Nonetheless, he who harbors true faith in God, believing wholeheartedly that Hashem is the “nosein lechem lechol bassar” (the giver of bread to all flesh) is granted ease of parnassa . . . with the compassion He confers upon the animal that is totally reliant on His chesed. By referring to the grass in the field, R’ Ada essentially assured his wife that with ultimate faith in Hashem, they would never go hungry.”
Intellectual communication marks the Gemini trait . . . and the green-colored emerald is the gemstone associated with this month.
“By Kabbolas Torah,” concluded R’ Hirsch, “when the Jews wondered how they could possibly fulfill the dictum of ‘v’hagisa bo yomam v’lylah’ – immerse yourselves in Torah day and night – and yet manage to earn a livelihood, Hashem drew their attention to the grass-blanketed Mount Sinai and asked, ‘Has all the grass . . . dispersed?’ – advising them in essence that with absolute faith in his Maker, one would be provided for as surely as are His trusting four-legged kind.” The sign of the month of Sivan, Gemini, is twins. Hashem chose this particular time to present His people with Toras Chayim, the gift of life, to symbolize His unity with us. Just as twins feel each other’s happiness and discomforts, so does Hashem exult in our joys and suffers our pain. The twins also come to signify that one should ideally undertake the study of Torah with a “twin” – a partner.
Only One Rules
In days of yore, noblemen (pritzim) would commonly preside over entire regional territories. One such poritz, more aptly described as an overlord than a noble man, ruled over the city of Shpole, in the province of Kiev. The Jews were naturally a favored target of his rants and whims, and his wildly fluctuating moods led to untold hardships.
Jewish innkeepers were often randomly selected for dismissal from their posts, and one really down on his luck could easily find himself locked up in a dark cellar on trumped up charges. It would take the empathy of his fellow Jews – via the accomplishment of the great mitzvah of pidyon shevuyim – to save the poor soul from a sordid demise.
A tzaddik, widely known in later years as the Shpole Zeide, came to settle in this town and was converged upon by both young and old who gained much inspiration from his divrei Torah. They also found a sympathetic listening ear in the Shpole Zeide and regaled him with tales of woe and appeals for relief.
It was just about at this time that the tyrannical overlord promulgated new laws to further oppress the Jews. His demands called for pictures of his visage to hang on the walls of synagogues and homes. Inns and other lodging establishments were to remain open on Shabbos with business to be carried on in a weekday manner. And a hefty tax was levied upon every newlywed’s family.
The Jewish townsfolk, overwrought by their burdens, wept torrents of tears in the tzaddik’s presence and begged him to turn the tide with his piety and prayers. The Shpole Zeide’s reaction was baffling, to say the least.
“If this is where he’s up to, there’s no recourse left but to have him listen to the Aseres Hadibros (Ten Commandments). It is but a few days to the onset of Shavuos. We will move the location of our shul . . . and daven Shacharis [morning prayers] on Shavuosin the vicinity of the poritz’s castle. You will notify him beforehand as to our plans and you will invite him to be an onlooker, at his discretion. Not to worry, for all will be well.”
The poritz’s curiosity was piqued. To date he’d but heard of how the Jews carried on while engaged in prayer, their voices rising and falling, their bodies swaying, bowing, and shaking, but never had he witnessed this firsthand. Now he allowed himself the liberty of inviting his cronies and the gentile populace at large to accompany him to the “theater.”
As per the Shpole Zeide’s assignment, the town’s Jewish inhabitants assembled outdoors on Shavuos morning at the foot of a specified mount. A horde of non-Jews had gathered bright and early at the behest of their leader. The mere sight of the congregants draped in their prayer shawls, fringes sweeping the ground as they swayed in passionate prayer, drew peals of raucous laughter.
The Shira prayer about to begin, the tzaddik’s voice rang out with a booming “Tipol aleihem aimasah v’pachad!” (“Upon them should fall trepidation and fear!”) Rowdiness was immediately transformed into complete silence as waves of terror engulfed the dumbstruck masses. Even the brawny and sturdiest among them were left quaking in their boots.
Prayers resumed with decorum and unadulterated devotion. The crashing sound of thunder rumbled through the air, even as the morning sun emitted its shimmering brilliance. With the tzaddik’s annunciation of each of the Aseres Hadibros, the poritz was kept apprised as to their literal meaning by one of his Jewish innkeepers.
“I am the Lord your God, who redeemed you from Egyptian bondage . . . you shall have no other god before you . . . nor shall you mak for yourselves a foreign image…” As the “translator” set forth Hashem’s exhortation against idol worship and the possession of foreign images, the blood visibly drained from the poritz’s countenance, his bones rattling at the recollection of his newest edicts.
“Remember the day of Shabbos . . . six days shall you toil . . . and the seventh, Shabbos, is to your God”
The poritz began to choke on his tears.
At the end of the service, all eyes were riveted on the overlord, who by then was racked by irrepressible sobs.
At the Shavuos milchig seudah (festive dairy meal) held at one of the inns, the Shpole Zeide enlightened his puzzled parishioners:
“The Aseres Hadibros of today will long be remembered by our audience, by the poritz in particular… for you see, the neshama of Yisro had attached itself to him . . . and was adrift in its agitated search of a tikun (repair).” [Yisro, Moshe Rabbeinu’s father-in-law, had in his earlier years been a hoarder and worshiper of foreign idols.]
“K’tapuach baatzei hayaar Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest” (Shir Hashirim 2:3) Beloved like the fragrant and fruitful apple tree among barren trees is God to the Chosen people Superior to all the gods that heathen nations serve, which are but wood of the forest.While other nations refused to sit in the shadow of the apple tree, only Israel longed for Hashem when He gave the Torah (Rashi).
Following a tête-à-tête with the tzaddik at the close of Shavuos, the poritz drastically altered his stance toward the Jews. He was, in fact, instrumental in the construction of a large new synagogue at the very place where they had gathered on that memorable Shavuos morning to pray. Eventually, he converted to Judaism and left for another land to live out the rest of his life as a Jew. The letter divinely instrumental in the formation of the month of Sivan is zayin (seven). Zayin’s literal translation is “weapon” while its character symbol stands for zahn(sustenance) With Torah we are safe and will not lack.
Theprominence of the zayin’s numerical value’s is most widely recognized in the 7-day week, which culminates in the sacred Shabbos; the seventh of the divine attributes (malchus– kingship) with which God governs the world; the seven-color spectrum; and the seven-tone musical scale.
King David’s life cycle was set into melodic motion, and brought to a close, on Shavuos. Harmoniously in tune with his ethereal being, Dovid HaMelech paid poignant tribute to his Maker and bequeathed to us an everlasting legacy – the Book of Psalms, Tehillim. Zemiros hoyu li chukechah – Your statutes were music to me With joyous song and praise I studied your statutes
