Sukkos 5787 – The Esrog Hold up

The following is a translation of R' Shlomo Lawrence's prospective as written in his master biography of several of the previous century's great Tzaddikim, Bemechitzatam. There are so many meaningful and entertaining angle to it, I thought it worthwhile sharing.

The Brisker Rav was particular about obtaining an esrog that had absolutely no concern of being grafted. Every year, those close to him made sure to bring him an esrog from a wild grove in Morocco, where there was no reason to suspect that the merchants had tampered with the esrogim growing there.

Shortly before Sukkot in 5718 [1957], as every year, a special messenger travelled to Morocco to bring back a mehudar esrog for the Brisker Rav. However, when he arrived at Lod Airport, the customs officials detained him and confiscated the esrog. That year, there were concerns about the danger of plant diseases, and the importation of agricultural products into the country had been prohibited. Any plant brought in from abroad was confiscated.

It was Erev Sukkot. The messenger arrived in Jerusalem and told the Brisker Rav that the esrog had been confiscated by customs.

When he heard this, the Brisker Rav turned to me and asked me to act to have the esrog released. He did not content himself with simply making the request. To ensure that I would not be lax in carrying out my mission, he appealed to me earnestly and at length. He explained to me what a great kindness this would be for him, and how much joy I would bring him if I could bring him the esrog and enable him to perform the mitzvah with an esrog about which there was absolutely no concern of grafting.

He asked me to do everything within my power myself, rather than through an intermediary, so that the esrog would be in his possession for Sukkot. He pleaded with me so intensely that I truly felt that this was a matter of “נפשי בשאלתי” — “a matter of life and soul to him.”

I therefore promised him that I would make every effort on my part, and said that I hoped I would be able to bring the esrog to him before the holiday began.

I travelled to Lod and approached the official who had confiscated the esrog, asking him to release it. I told him who the Rabbi of Brisk was, explained how important this was to him, and how concerned he was that the esrog was still not in his possession.

The official understood me and told me that, in this case, he was willing to release the esrog, but that he did not have the authority to do so. When I asked who did have the authority, he told me that it belonged to the second official.

I went to the second official, and the second sent me to a third, and so on. If, until that point, I had not been familiar with the bureaucracy of the State of Israel, I certainly received an enlightening lesson in it that day.

An hour passed, and then two hours. The senior officials there were well disposed toward me, and as a Member of Knesset they treated me with respect. They greatly appreciated the purpose of my visit and the trouble I was taking, but none of them had any way of actually helping me.

The hours passed, and the time for the beginning of the holiday drew closer. I came to the conclusion that the authority to release the esrog from customs rested with the director of the airport, and that no other authority could release it in his place.

I searched for him at the airport, but he was not there. I called his home and every other place where I could imagine that he might be, but “the child was nowhere to be found”...

As I ran from one official to another, I had to keep the Brisker Rav informed of the situation. Our communication was through one of those close to him. I would telephone this person, and he would then go to the Brisker Rav's home — where there was no telephone line — and tell him what he had heard from me.

The Brisker Rav's tension was truly at its peak. Every time I called, my contact would tell me that the Brisker Rav was asking me not to spare any effort and to do everything possible to obtain the esrog for him, because in his eyes this was a question of the very fulfillment of the mitzvah.

The hour grew late, and the customs offices at the airport began closing one after another. When it became clear to me that I would not be able to obtain the esrog that evening, I returned to Jerusalem, to the Brisker Rav's home, and informed him that all avenues had been exhausted and that I was unable to help release it that day.

It is difficult to describe the Brisker Rav's tremendous anguish. Even if I had been blessed with a writer's pen, I would not have been able to describe his great pain. His face was literally black with grief and anguish.

Eventually, he turned to me and said:

“Even if I will not have an esrog without any concern of grafting on Yom Tov, it is still very important to me that, at the very least, the esrog should reach me during Chol HaMoed.”

He urged me and asked me to keep trying again and again, and to make every effort both on Erev Yom Tov and immediately after Yom Tov to obtain the esrog, because it was preferable that the esrog reach him as soon as possible.

I did so, but it did not work out. Time passed. I tried again and again to contact the director, but there was no answer. He had gone away for his Sukkot vacation, and I could not locate him — neither on Motzaei Yom Tov nor on the first day of Chol HaMoed. I enlisted the help of his senior officials, asking them to assist me in finding where he was vacationing, but they all came up empty-handed.

Hours and days passed. Meanwhile, every half hour, messengers from the Brisker Rav would come to me and ask whether there had been any progress. I would answer that I had made a little progress, and then a little more, but that I still did not know what would happen.

If I were to describe everything that the Brisker Rav went through during the days of the holiday, it simply would not be possible. He was under tremendous tension, sorrow and pain. He neither rested nor relaxed for a moment, and all the time he was coming up with ideas about how we might get the esrog released from customs.

Eventually I found the director. I do not remember whether he was in Israel or abroad. I spoke with him and asked him to give the officials at the airport a clear instruction to release the esrog.

The airport director replied that he would gladly do what I was asking, but that he did not have the authority to do so. I asked him who did have the authority to order the release of the esrog.

He answered: “Only the Minister of Agriculture.”

It was already Hoshana Rabbah. I began searching for the Minister of Agriculture at the time, Mr. Kadish Luz, who lived in Kibbutz Degania. I called the kibbutz offices, and they told me that he had fallen ill and had been taken to the hospital a few hours earlier.

We saw that Heaven itself seemed to be fighting us. In the meantime, I learned that Mr. Luz had been admitted to Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem. I hurried there, while the Brisker Rav continued receiving regular reports.

I entered the ward, and at the entrance to his room I met the doctor treating him. I asked to enter, but he refused. I told him that I absolutely had to enter because I had an extremely urgent and important matter. I promised that I would not remain in the patient's room for more than three minutes, and asked him to go inside and ask whether Mr. Luz was willing to receive me.

The doctor entered and asked Kadish Luz whether he agreed to meet me. He answered that I should come in.

I entered and quickly explained what the matter was. Kadish Luz was greatly impressed by the situation and told me that he would be very pleased to do what I was asking, but that here in the hospital he did not have official Ministry stationery on which to write the instruction, and without official stationery his instruction would have no validity.

I told him that the paper would be with him shortly. I called the Ministry of Agriculture in Tel Aviv and, on the minister's instructions, asked them to send me official Ministry stationery by messenger.

After some time, the messenger arrived and handed me the paper. I immediately went back into Kadish Luz's room, and he wrote on it a clear instruction to release the esrog immediately, stating that Rabbi Lorincz was handling its release.

I called the airport and spoke to the official responsible for the release. I told him that there was a clear written instruction from Kadish Luz to release the esrog. He answered that he would wait for my messenger to arrive and would hand the esrog over to him.

I happily informed the Brisker Rav that I had obtained the letter and had already sent a messenger to Lod, and that within a short time he would have the esrog in his hands. The messenger immediately set out for Lod.

However, when he arrived there, he discovered that the office was closed. The official with whom I had spoken had indeed waited for my messenger, but in the meantime the office in which the esrog was being held had been closed.

I trembled with fear. The Brisker Rav had told me that even if the esrog arrived a short time before the holiday, he would still be able to take it, because this was so important to him. But it was already clear to me that the Brisker Rav would not receive the esrog. All avenues had been exhausted.

I remembered everything that the Brisker Rav had gone through since Erev Sukkot, and now I had to tell him: there was no esrog.

I went in to him, trembling and worried about how I would break the news to him. I entered, but to my complete surprise, he looked at me with a smile and said:

“Nu, Reb Shlomo, no esrog?”

“No esrog,” I answered.

I could not restrain myself and asked, “Why is the Rav smiling?”

I had a very open relationship with the Brisker Rav, and I told him how I had trembled with fear before going in to him because I did not know what I was going to say. “And now,” I continued, “I see that the Rav is in such a good mood. Perhaps the Rav obtained another esrog from Morocco? What has changed since a few hours ago?”

The Brisker Rav replied:

“I will tell you a story, and from it you will understand why I am calm now.”

For approximately three-quarters of an hour, the Brisker Rav sat and told me the following:

“One of the householders in Brisk approached me several times with a complaint. He had a very old mother in the distant town of Rogaube, far from Brisk, and he felt that he was not fulfilling the mitzvah of honoring his mother properly. Travelling to Rogaube each time was out of the question, because he was occupied with earning his livelihood in Brisk.

“I asked him, ‘What can I do to help you?’

“The man answered:

“‘I want her to come and live with me. For years I have been asking her and pleading with her about this, but she insists and absolutely refuses. Therefore, I am asking the Rav to speak with her. Surely, if the Rabbi of Brisk gives her an instruction, she will obey.’

“I told him that, in my opinion, he was right, and suggested that the next time she came to visit him, they should both come in to see me.

“And so it happened. She came to visit, and they both entered my room.

“I turned to her and said:

“‘Your son wants to fulfill the mitzvah of honoring his mother. This is a great mitzvah, and you have an enormous merit in being able to help him fulfill it. In my opinion, you should move here and live with him. It will be good for you physically, and it will be good for him spiritually, because he will be able to fulfill the mitzvah of honoring his mother in an exemplary manner.’

“The elderly woman said to me:

“‘Rebbe, you can ask me for anything you want, except to leave Rogaube. That I cannot do!’

“I asked her why she could not do it. What was so difficult about living with a good son who wanted to take care of her?

“She answered me:

“‘Rebbe, I will tell you a story.

“‘My grandfather was desperately poor, but he always had a great desire that, just once in his life, he should have an esrog of his own.’

“In the towns of Lithuania, poverty was widespread, and not every individual had his own esrog.

“‘My grandfather saved money throughout his entire life so that, once he reached old age, he would be able to buy an esrog himself. He kept the money tied up in a sack, and every time he managed to save even a penny by going without something, he would put it into that sack. Thus, he collected penny after penny for decades.

“‘When he had become extremely old, it seemed to him that he had finally accumulated enough money to buy an esrog. He took the sack and travelled with his wife to Vilna, to the esrog merchant.

“‘When they arrived with the sack at the esrog merchant, the merchant sat down and counted all those pennies, one by one. But the amount they had accumulated was not enough to buy even a single esrog.

“‘My grandfather and grandmother were deeply saddened and left the esrog merchant empty-handed.

“‘When they were already outside, my grandmother said:

“‘“The two of us are already old. We have always dreamed of buying our own esrog. If not now, when?

“‘“We have a house of our own. What do we need a house for? Let us sell the house and rent a one-room apartment in the town. With the money we receive for the house, surely we will be able to buy an esrog.”

“‘And that is what they did. They sold the house and received whatever amount they received for it, and returned to the esrog merchant in Vilna.

“‘The merchant was amazed by the large amount of money they now had. He told them that for the amount now at their disposal, they would not merely receive an esrog, but an esrog such as no one had ever seen. He promised that when he travelled to purchase esrogim, he would bring my grandfather an esrog that was truly exceptional.

“‘And indeed, the merchant kept his word and brought them an extraordinary esrog. They were extremely happy with it and travelled back to their rented home in the town.

“‘Meanwhile, word spread throughout the town that my grandfather had acquired such a beautiful and mehudar esrog that no one else had anything like it. The Jews of the town were curious to see the esrog, and they entered the little rented house.

“‘While my grandfather was sitting and studying Torah, my grandmother showed them the esrog in the kitchen. The esrog passed from hand to hand, and everyone enjoyed seeing its beauty.

“‘Until — the esrog fell, and the pitom broke.

“‘It was now invalid!

“‘My grandmother fainted on the spot.

“‘When she recovered from her fainting, she wanted to tell my grandfather what had happened. But she was afraid that if he heard the news suddenly, it might cause him harm. So she decided to prepare him for such difficult news.

“‘She entered the room where my grandfather was sitting and began telling him stories and parables. My grandfather did not understand what she wanted from him. He asked her why she was telling him all these stories.

“‘“Did something happen?” he asked. “Perhaps some tragedy? Maybe one of the grandchildren died?”

“‘My grandmother had no choice, and she told him what had happened.

“‘As soon as my grandfather heard the news, he got up from his place and said:

“‘‘Az men hot nit, iz men patur!’

“‘“If there is none, then one is exempt!”

“‘And he added:

“‘“The same Holy One, blessed be He, who said to take an esrog, also said that it is forbidden to become angry.”’”

When the elderly woman finished telling me her story, the Brisker Rav continued, she explained to me why she did not want to leave Rogaube.

“‘Every day,’ the elderly woman said, ‘I pass by the house that my grandfather and grandmother sold in order to buy an esrog. The pleasure I get from that is so great for me that it literally gives me life.

“‘Therefore, I remain in Rogaube, because I cannot give up that pleasure. And as long as I am alive, I will remain beside my grandfather and grandmother's house — the house that was sold for the sake of the esrog.’”

Naturally, after I heard this reason from her, I could no longer instruct her to leave Rogaube.

“Do you understand the story?” the Brisker Rav asked me.

And he continued:

“The lesson of the story is: ‘Az men hot nit, iz men patur’ — ‘If there is none, then one is exempt.’

“As long as I thought there was some possibility, I worked and made every effort. And as you know, I was filled with anxiety, tension, pain and sorrow. Whatever you sensed of what I was going through — my anguish was much greater than you think.

“But after we have done everything, and I am certain that you did everything you could do, ‘az men hot nit, iz men patur.’

“If there is none, then one is exempt.

“Why should I continue to suffer?

“That is the answer to your question as to why I am now calm and in a good mood: **‘If there is none, then one is exempt.’”

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