Fruit shake!

The מִדְרָשׁ in קֹהֶלֶת, which we will be reading this Shabbos in shul, brings the following פָּסוּק teaching to explain the: "לִשְׂחוֹקוֹ אָמַרְתִּי מְהוֹלָל, וּלְשִׂמְחָה מַה זֹה עֹשָׂה."

"לִשְׂחוֹק אָמַרְתִּי מְהוֹלָלִ" אָמַר רַבִּי אַבָּא בַּר כַּהֲנָא: מַה מְעֹרְבָּב הַשָּׂחוֹק, שֶׁאֻמּוֹת הָעוֹלָם שׂוֹחֲקִים בְּבָתֵּי קָרְקְסִיאוֹת וּבְבָתֵּי תִּיאַטְרִיאוֹת שֶׁלָּהֶם. "וּלְשִׂמְחָה מַה זֹה עֹשָׂה" – מַה טִיבוֹ שֶׁל תַּלְמִיד חָכָם לִכָּנֵס שָׁם?

רַבִּי אַבָּא בַּר כַּהֲנָא explains: “About laughter I said: it is confused and mixed up." Look at the laughter of the nations of the world. They laugh and enjoy themselves in their theatres and circuses, places created simply for entertainment. Then שְׁלֹמֹה הַמֶּלֶךְ says: "וּלְשִׂמְחָה מַה זֹה עֹשָׂה" – "And of happiness, what does this accomplish?” The מִדְרָשׁ asks: What business does a תַּלְמִיד חָכָם have going in there?

At first glance, this is difficult to understand. What is wrong with laughter and entertainment? Surely enjoying yourself is meant to make you happy. Yet the מִדְרָשׁ seems to be telling us that there is a type of laughter which is not real שִׂמְחָה at all. There can be a person who is laughing on the outside while still lacking genuine happiness on the inside. Somehow, entertainment and happiness are not necessarily the same thing.

With this idea, I would like to explain another מִדְרָשׁ that we find in פָּרָשַׁת אֱמוֹר regarding the מִצְוָה of the אַרְבָּעָה מִינִים.

"שְׂבַע שְׂמָחוֹת" – אַל תְּהִי קוֹרֵא כֵּן, אֶלָּא שֶׁבַע שְׂמָחוֹת. אֵלּוּ שֶׁבַע מִצְווֹת שֶׁבֶּחָג, וְאֵלּוּ הֵן: ד' מִינִין שֶׁבַּלּוּלָב, וְסֶכָּה, חֲגִיגָה וְשִׂמְחָה. אִם שִׂמְחָה לָמָּה חֲגִיגָה, וְאִם חֲגִיגָה לָמָּה שִׂמְחָה?"

The מִדְרָשׁ says: Do not read it simply as "שְׂבַע שְׂמָחוֹת" – an abundance of happiness, but rather as "שֶׁבַע שְׂמָחוֹת" – seven happinesses. These are the seven מִצְווֹת of the יוֹם טוֹב: the four מִינִים, סֶכָּה, חֲגִיגָה and שִׂמְחָה.

I think the מִדְרָשׁ is teaching us something much deeper than a play on words. It is not replacing the simple meaning of שׂבַע שְׂמָחוֹת. It is explaining how to reach it. Everybody wants an abundance of happiness. The question is: how do you actually get there? The answer of the מִדְרָשׁ is that the way to reach שׂבַע שְׁמָחוֹת is through these שֶׁבַע שְׂמָחוֹת. These seven מִצְווֹת of סֶכּוֹת show us how physical enjoyment and celebration can be turned into something that produces real, lasting שִׂמְחָה.

But that immediately creates a problem. Among these seven, the מִדְרָשׁ counts both חֲגִיגָה and שִׂמְחָה. Surely the whole point of a חֲגִיגָה is to create שִׂמְחָה. We celebrate because we want to be happy. If so, why are they being counted as two separate things? "אִם שִׂמְחָה לָמָּה חֲגִיגָה, וְאִם חֲגִיגָה לָמָּה שִׂמְחָה" If I already have happiness, what does the celebration add? And if the celebration itself produces happiness, why do I need a separate מִצְוָה of שִׂמְחָה?

The question becomes even stronger when we remember the first מִדְרָשׁ in קֹהֶלֶת. There we were told that a person can have plenty of laughter and entertainment and still not have genuine שִׂמְחָה. So how can חֲגִיגָה, an external celebration, be one of the very things that leads us to שׂבַע שְׁמָחוֹת, an abundance of true happiness?

And then the מִדְרָשׁ seems to make things even more confusing, because instead of answering the question directly, it suddenly begins speaking about רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה, כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל and the nations of the world, and the לוּלָב that shows that we have won.

The מִדְרָשׁ continues:

אָמַר רַבִּי אָבִין: מָשֶׁל לִשְׁנַיִם שֶׁנִּכְנְסוּ אֵצֶל הַדַּיָּן, וְלֵית אֲנַן יָדְעִין מַאן הוּא נָצוֹחַ, אֶלָּא מַאן דְנָסֵב בָּאִין בִּידֵיהּ אֲגַן יָדְעִין וְהוּא נָצוֹחַ. כָּךְ יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאֻמּוֹת הָעוֹלָם בָּאִין וּמְקַטְרְגִים לִפְנֵי הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא בְּרֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה, וְלֵית אֲנָן יָדְעִין מַאן נָצַח, אֶלָּא בְּמַה שֶׁיִשְׂרָאֵל יוֹצְאִין מִלִפְנֵי הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא וְלוּלְבֵיהֶן וְאֶתְרוֹגֵיהֶן בִּידֵיהֶן, אָנוּ יוֹדְעִין דְיִשְׂרָאֵל אִינוּן נָצוֹחַיָּא. לְפִיכָךְ מֹשֶׁה מַזְהִיר לְיִשְׂרָאֵל וְאוֹמֵר לָהֶם: "וּלְקַחְתֶּם לָכֶם בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן."

רַבִּי אָבִין gives a מָשָׁל. Two people enter before a judge, and we do not know which one has won. When one of them comes out carrying the sign of victory in his hand, we know that he is the winner. So too כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל and the nations of the world come before הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא on רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה and argue their case. We do not know who has won, but when כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל come out carrying their לוּלָבִים and אֶתְרוֹגִים, we know that כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל have won. Therefore מֹשֶׁה רַבֵּנוּ warns them: ".וּלְקַחְתֶּם לָכֶם בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן"

Now the question is very clear. The מִדְרָשׁ began by asking us to understand the difference between חֲגִיגָה and שִׂמְחָה and how the two together can produce שׂבַע שְׁמָחוֹת. Why is the answer a story about the לוּלָב proving that כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל won on ראשׁ הַשָּׁנָה? What does one thing have to do with the other?

I think the answer is that the לוּלָב is not a separate subject at all. The לוּלָב is the answer. It teaches us how a חֲגִיגָה can become genuine שִׂמְחָה.

The תּוֹרָה in פָּרָשַׁת רְאֵה says: "וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְּחַגָּךָ", and later: "שִׁבְעַת יָמִים תָּחֹג לַה' אֱלֹקֶיךָ... וְהָיִיתָ אַךְ שָׂמֵחַ."

The דִּבְרֵי שָׁאוּל brings a רֶמֶז in the words "אַךְ שָׂמֵחַ". The word אַךְ usually comes to exclude something. Here it is teaching us that there is a type of שִׂמְחָה in which nothing else should be mixed in.

He brings the גְּמָרָא in בְּרָכוֹת where one אָמוֹרָא asks another why he is so happy. The other אָמוֹרָא answers that he had put on תְּפִלִין. Normally, even when a person is doing a מִצְוָה and experiencing שִׂמְחַת הַמִּצְוָה there is still a danger. A person can become so caught up in the pleasure and excitement surrounding the מִצְוָה that slowly the physical enjoyment itself becomes the main thing. The שִׂמְחָה becomes connected to the גַּשְׁמִיּוּת rather than to Hashem.

But תְּפִלִין are different. There is no delicious meal involved, no comfortable chair, no party and no special atmosphere. The happiness comes simply from the fact that the person is connected to Hashem. That is a much purer form of שִׂמְחָה. The last day of יום טוֹב, שְׁמִינִי עֲצֶרֶת represents this type of שִׂמְחָה. There comes a point where a Yid is simply spending time with Hashem. There does not have to be anything else involved. He can simply be happy to be with Him.

The word אַךְ removes the עַצְבוּת and everything else that interferes with that pure שִׂמְחָה. As the סְפוֹרְנוֹ explains on the words "אַךְ שָׂמֵחַ": "תִּהְיֶה שָׁמֵחַ בִּלְבַד, וּבְשִׂמְחָתְךָ לֹא יִתְעָרֵב עַצְבוּן. Be happy alone, without sadness becoming mixed into your happiness.

This helps us understand an important difference. חֲגִיגָה means celebration. שִׂמְחָה means happiness. They are not the same thing. You can celebrate without being genuinely happy, and you can be genuinely happy without having any celebration at all. Take a birthday as a simple example. The fact that today is your birthday gives you a reason to celebrate. There is a cake, presents, music, people around you and perhaps a party. All of those things are external. They create an atmosphere that is supposed to make you happy. But real שִׂמְחָה is internal.

The דּוּבְנָא מַגִּיד explains that there is external happiness and internal happiness. Any enjoyment in this world usually works by filling a gap. If I am missing something and then I receive it, I become happy. The happiness comes because something that was lacking has now been filled. But that creates a strange problem. The more a person becomes used to pleasures, the more he needs in order to become excited. If someone has already experienced everything, basic things no longer impress him. He needs something more unusual, more expensive or more extreme just to feel the same excitement he once felt from something simple.

A poor person, on the other hand, may receive tremendous pleasure from something very basic. In a strange way, he may actually be closer to happiness because he needs less in order to get there. Which means that when a person spends his life constantly increasing his physical pleasures, he may actually be creating more sadness for himself. He has stretched his "pleasure cells” so far that they have become much harder to fill.

Last week I was speaking to someone who gives away a large amount of צְדָקָה before יוֹם טוֹב. He told me that this year a very respectable person, someone who from the outside appeared to be wealthy, was collecting on עֶרֶב יוֹם טוֹב for a needy family in town. After everyone left shul, the רָב came over to him and revealed that the “needy family" was actually that very man himself.

He was not starving. He had enough for the most basic necessities. But he had nowhere near enough to maintain the standard of living to which he had become accustomed. There may be many people who survive happily on far less than he had. But after twenty years of stretching his expectations higher and higher, he could no longer reach the level of pleasure that had become normal to him. And that meant that he could actually feel poorer and more miserable than somebody who owns much less.

The more you stretch your הַשָּׂגוֹת of what you need, the more you will need in order to feel satisfied. Eventually you need to import some crazy dish from the other side of the world just to tickle the pleasure cells. I sometimes joke that I am richer than Elon Musk. Not because I have more money. Unfortunately, my bank manager has not yet made that discovery. But perhaps I lack less in order to reach my goal.

For someone with billions, another million may hardly make a dent. For me, a million pounds would certainly make a difference whether for the better or for the worse is up to debate. If I need very little in order to be happy, then in one sense I possess more. A simple trip to a farm probably does not excite Elon Musk anymore. He needs to explore space or perhaps Mars. Good luck to him.

Perhaps that is what שְׁלֹמֹה הַמֶּלֶךְ is teaching us when he says: ".לִשְׂחוֹק אָמַרְתִּי מְהוֹלָל" There are theatres, shows and endless forms of entertainment designed to make a person happy from the outside. But a תַּלְמִיד חָכָם who has trained himself to live with פַּת בַּמֶּלַח water and a simple life needs far less in order to be content. He has not stretched his pleasure cells until normal life is no longer enough.

The more a person trains himself to need external excitement, the more external excitement he will need. True שִׂמְחָה comes from serving Hashem. Being connected to Hashem is happiness itself. The further a person moves away from that internal source, the more outside things he will need in order to make himself feel happy.

It is a little like an old fish. The less fresh the fish is, the more spices you need to cover up the smell. When something is fresh, it does not need all the covering. A person who needs constant entertainment, excitement and people around him simply in order to feel okay may actually be showing that something is missing internally. Someone who has genuine שִׂמְחָה from within does not need so much from the outside. That is why a תַּלְמִיד חָכָם can be happy with bread and water. He has a source of happiness that does not depend upon all the extras.

Now we can come back to סֶכּוֹת. סֶכּוֹת was the time of year when a person brought home his crops. It was the harvest season, a time of abundance and success. Naturally, a person would make a חַג. He had produce, prosperity and plenty. He had every reason to celebrate.

But now we return to the original question. If all that happiness is coming from the crops and the success, is it really שִׂמְחָה? If true שִׂמְחָה is supposed to come from serving Hashem, why are we celebrating all these physical things that we have received? The מִדְרָשׁ answers with the מָשָׁל of רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה.

כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל and the nations of the world come before Hashem, and we do not know who has won. Then כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל emerge holding their לוּלָב and אֶתְרוֹג and that demonstrates that they are the winners. But why? Because we take the very things that grow from the ground, the very produce that could have become the source of our physical pride and pleasure, and we turn them into a מִצְוָה. We take the אַרְבָּעָה מִינִים and lift them up to Hashem.

We do not eat the fruit. We shake it. A non-Jew may not understand that. In fact, what made me think of this explanation in the מִדְרָשׁ was something that happened to me about a week and a half ago. I was taking an אֶתְרוֹג to America for a friend. As seems to be my personal מִנְהָג, my bags always create some sort of excitement when they go through airport security. This time the problem was a tin of tuna.

As the security officer emptied my bag, he found the box containing the אֶתְרוֹג. “What's in here?" he asked. Without thinking, I replied, “It's a religious fruit." As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realised how strange they sounded. I quickly corrected myself. "It is a fruit that we use for a religious custom."

He looked fascinated. “What do you do with it? Do you eat it?” “No,” I replied. “We shake it." He looked at me as if the tin of tuna was no longer the strangest thing in my bag. But perhaps that is precisely the point.

The natural use of fruit is to eat it. The natural reaction to a successful harvest is to enjoy it. But when the nations of the world come before Hashem and claim that we do not deserve both this world and the next, כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל answer by holding up our fruit. We say: Yes, you gave us a world. Yes, you gave us produce. And look what we do with it. We shake it for You. We take גַּשְׁמִיוּת and turn it into רוּחָנִיּוּת.

That changes the entire meaning of the celebration. We are not saying, “Look how much produce we have. Look how successful we are." We are saying, “Hashem gave us all this and we are going to use it to serve Him.”

Perhaps this also explains why the מִדְרָשׁ says that מֹשֶׁה warns כְּלַל יִשְׂרָאֵל to take the אַרְבָּעָה מִינִים. Why use the language of a warning? Why not simply say that he commands them? Perhaps מֹשֶׁה רַבֵּנוּ is warning us about the danger hidden inside the celebration.

You are bringing home your crops. You have been successful. You have every reason to make a חֲגִיגָה. But be careful. Do not allow the חֲגִיגָה itself to become the source of your שִׂמְחָה. Do not allow all the produce, money, success and pleasure to become the things that give your life meaning. Take those very same things and turn them into a מִצְוָה. Use your produce to serve Hashem.

Then חֲגִיגָה and שִׂמְחָה can finally come together. The celebration remains external, but the happiness comes from within. The crops can give you something to celebrate, but they are no longer the source of your happiness. Your real שִׂמְחָה comes from Hashem. And once the celebration itself is being used to serve Hashem, you can celebrate fully and still remain genuinely happy.

Now we can understand the פְּסוּקִים regarding the מִצְוָה of חַג הַסֶכֹּת: "תַּעֲשֶׂה לְךָ שִׁבְעַת יָמִים, בְּאָסְפְּךָ מִגָּרְנְךָ וּמִיִּקְבֶךָ." First there is חַג. You have gathered in your produce. Hashem has blessed your work, and naturally there is a celebration.

Then the תּוֹרָה says: "וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְּחַגָּךָ, אַתָּה וּבִנְךָ וּבְתֶּךָ וְעַבְדְּךָ וַאֲמָתֶךָ, וְהַלֵּוִי וְהַנֵּר וְהַיָּתוֹם וְהָאַלְמָנָה אֲשֶׁר בִּשְׁעָרֶיךָ." Now comes something deeper. Do not merely celebrate. Be happy. The מִדְרָשׁ asked us how the two can possibly go together. How can all the external excitement of a חַג coexist with pure internal שִׂמְחָה?

The answer comes in the next פָּסוּק: "שִׁבְעַת יָמִים תָּחֹג לַה' אֱלֹקֶיךָ בַּמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר יִבְחַר ה', כִּי יְבָרֶכְךָ ה' אֱלֹקֶיךָ בְּכֹל תְּבוּאָתְךָ וּבְכֹל מַעֲשֵׂה יָדֶיךָ, וְהָיִיתָ אַךְ שָׂמֵחַ." Celebrate - but celebrate לַה' אֱלֹקֶיךָ.

The תּוֹרָה does not tell us to celebrate simply because we are rich or because the harvest was successful. We celebrate because Hashem gave it to us, and because we now have another opportunity to use His gifts to serve Him. The physical success becomes an extra בְּרָכָה. It does not become the foundation of our happiness.

And now we can return to the opening words of the מִדְרָשׁ: "שׂבַע שְׂמָחוֹת" – an abundance of happiness. How does a person actually reach that abundance? Not by endlessly adding more pleasures and not by endlessly increasing the חֲגִיגָה. The מִדְרָשׁ tells us: "אַל תְּהִי קוֹרֵא כֵּן, אֶלָּא שֶׁבַע שְׂמָחוֹת."

Take all the different parts of סֶכּוֹת – the crops, the סֶכָּה, the אַרְבָּעָה מִינִים, the חֲגִיגָה – and attach every one of them to Hashem. That is how שֶׁבַע שְׂמָחוֹת creates שׂבַע שְׁמָחוֹת. The seven forms of serving Hashem create the fullness of happiness.

When we live that way through the seven days of סֶכּוֹת, we can eventually reach the level of שְׁמִינִי עֲצֶרֶת – the day when there is almost nothing left except ourselves and Hashem. ".וְהָיִיתָ אַךְ שָׂמֵחַ" Just happy.

Perhaps that is also why we read קֹהֶלֶת on חֹל הַמּוֹעֵד סֶכּוֹת. At the very moment when we are celebrating the harvest, enjoying יום טוב and surrounded by everything Hashem has given us, שְׁלֹמֹה הַמֶּלֶךְ reminds us: ".הֲבֵל הֲבָלִים, הַכֹּל הָבֶל"

All the things of this world are הֶבֶל when they become an end in themselves. But take that same world and use it for Hashem, and suddenly the fruit itself can become a מִצְוָה. You can eat, celebrate and enjoy. You can have a חֲגִיגָה. But the real question is: Where does your שִׂמְחָה come from?

If it comes only from what you own, you will constantly need more. But if it comes from Who gave it to you and what you can do with it, then even the things of this world can bring you closer to Hashem. That is the victory of the לוּלָב. That is the שִׂמְחָה of סֶכּוֹת. That is how שֶׁבַע שְׂמָחוֹת becomes שׂבַע שְׁמָחוֹת. And perhaps that is what it means to reach: ".וְהָיִיתָ אַךְ שָׂמֵחַ"