On Sukkot we shake the Four Species – Lulav, etrog, haddas (myrtle) and aravah (willow). Let's compare two ideas that pertain to Sukkot and the Four Species to see how they interact with each other.

A central concept brought out by the Four Species is the unity of the Jewish people. The Midrash teaches that the four different species represent four different types of Jews, based on their characteristics.

The Esrog has a taste and a fragrance which represents a person with both wisdom (Torah learning) and good deeds. The myrtle has a  fragrance but is inedible, indicative of a person who has good deeds but lacks wisdom. The lulav is edible but has no smell, representing a person with wisdom but no good deeds. The willow has neither taste nor smell, and represents a person with neither good deeds nor Torah learning.

On Sukkot we gather these four species, bind them, and wave them all together. Even the ‘highest’ of the species, the etrog is only of use if all four species are taken together. If one of the species is missing, the Mitzva is not fulfilled. Moreover, when the Four Species are taken, the etrog is held next to the willow – this alludes to the idea that the ‘greatest’ person should position himself to be near the ‘lowest’ person in order to favorably influence him. These concepts teach of the importance of having good relationships with one’s fellow Jews, even if they are not all on the same level.

A second concept that is prevalent in Sukkot is the idea of hiddur Mitzva – beautifying  a Mitzva. The source for this is in the Song of the Sea when the people sing, “Zeh Keili V’anveihu” – this is my God and I will glorify Him. The Talmud¹ expounds that this refers to doing Mitzvot in a beautiful manner, beyond the letter of the law. The first two examples that the Gemara gives are connected to Sukkot – make a beautiful Sukkah and a beautiful esrog.

Another way in which Sukkah involves going beyond the law is that even though it is totally permitted to eat many foods or drink outside the Sukkah it is a ‘hiddur’ to only eat and drink in the Sukkah.

On superficial glance, it could seem that these two ideas – unity and hiddur – do not necessarily go together. Indeed, sometime, going beyond the letter of the law in Mitzvot relating to God can sometimes lead to failings in Inter-personal relationships. For example, the person who prays a very long prayer and thereby blocks other people from moving, or one who pushes other people in order to kiss the Sefer Torah. However, in truth there need not be any contradiction, and in reality, the two should go together. The following story related by Rabbi Berel Wein about Sukkot brings out how a person can excel in both realms.

The story was told by S.Y. Agnon, the Israeli Nobel laureate who won the prize for literature a number of years. He was a neighbor of a famous old rabbi from Russia. Both of them were now living in the Jerusalem neighborhood of Talpiot. One year before Sukkot, Agnon met his rabbinic neighbor at the neighborhood store selling etrogim. Agnon noticed how meticulous his neighbor was in choosing an esrog. Even though he was a person of limited means, the rabbi insisted on purchasing the finest, and hence most expensive, esrog available. After examining many specimens, the rabbi finally chose the one he wished and paid for it.

Walking home with Agnon, the rabbi emphasized to him how important it was to have a beautiful, flawless esrog on Sukkot, and how the beauty of the esrog was part of the fulfillment of the Divine commandment for the holiday. However, on Sukkot morning Agnon noticed that the rabbi was without an etrog at the synagogue services. Perplexed, Agnon asked the rabbi where his beautiful esrog was. The rabbi answered by relating the following incident:

“I awoke early, as is my wont, and prepared to recite the blessing over the esrog in my sukkah located on my balcony. As you know, we have a neighbor with a large family, and our balconies adjoin. As you also know, our neighbor, the father of all these children next door, is a man of short temper. Many times, he shouts at them or even hits them for violating his rules and wishes. I have spoken to him many times about his harshness but to little avail.

As I stood in the sukkah on my balcony, about to recite the blessing for the esrog, I heard a child’s weeping coming from the next balcony. It was a little girl crying, one of the children of our neighbor. I walked over to find out what was wrong. She told me that she too had awakened early and had gone out on her balcony to examine her father’s esrog, whose delightful appearance and fragrance fascinated her. Against her father’s instructions, she removed the esrog from its protective box to examine it. She unfortunately dropped the esrog on the stone floor, irreparably damaging it and rendering it unacceptable for use. She knew that her father would be enraged and would punish her severely, perhaps even violently. Hence the frightened tears and wails of apprehension.

I comforted her, and I then took my esrog and placed it in her father’s box, taking the damaged esrog to my premises. I told her to tell her father that his neighbor insisted that he accept the gift of the beautiful esrog, and that he would be honoring me and the holiday by so doing.”

Agnon concludes the story by saying: “My rabbinic neighbor’s damaged, bruised, ritually unusable esrog was the most beautiful etrog I have ever seen in my lifetime.”

This anonymous Rabbi epitomized both aspects of Sukkah – a desire to do the Mitzva with the greatest hiddur but at the same time, the awareness that the Jewish people are one, and there might be times, when a hiddur in a Mitzva pertaining to God may be overridden by a hiddur in inter-personal relationships. May we all merit to excel in both areas.

1. Shabbos, 133b