Rabbi Howard Morrison

A stolen Lulav and my lesson in humility

 The story I want to share is true and personal. I had been accepted into the rabbinical school of the Jewish Theological Seminary in the Spring of 1982 to begin taking classes in the Fall. The six-year program began with introductory Talmud. After attending a Yeshiva day school and continuing Talmud study in private settings, I asked the dean of the school what I could do to begin with the more advanced second year Talmud class. Easy, he said, just prepare any thirty pages of Talmud and be examined by one of our Talmud professors.

I took a few weeks to review a chapter of Talmud I had learned in day school. It was the third chapter in the tractate called Sukkah. The third chapter is entitled, "Lulav Ha'Gazul - the stolen lulav," based on the opening teaching in the chapter. An appointment was made for me to come from Boston to New York to take an oral exam on that chapter. The dean of the school had me meet with a professor I did not know of at the time, Rabbi David Weiss Halivni. When I entered his office, he was not aware of the material I had prepared. With the Talmud book sitting in my knapsack, I told him the chapter I had learned. Right away, he began asking me questions about a particular text on a particular page. He was asking me by heart. I was overwhelmed. Little did I know that this man had a photographic memory and knew the entire Talmud, thousands of pages, by heart. I explained to him with trepidation that I had LEARNED   the chapter but did not MEMORIZE it. He allowed me to open up the Aramaic text.

Shaking in my boots the whole time which felt like an eternity, really 30 minutes, Rabbi Weiss Halivni told me that I passed, and that I would begin the Fall semester with the second year Talmud class.

Less than two years ago, Rabbi Weiss Halivni passed away while living in Israel. Years earlier, he was awarded the Talmud prize by the Jewish Agency in Israel. He was a scholar and a mentch. I was blessed to have known him, and I was humbled, more than anything else, when I was examined by him in his office before I knew anything about the man.

The chapter I had learned begins with a question - May one use a stolen lulav to observe the Mitzvah on Sukkot? While the answer seems so logical, the Talmud examines this question like most others from all kinds of angles. What I really like about the teaching is that ritual law and ethics come together. The Sages introduce a concept called Mitzvah Ha'Ba'ah B'Aveira. The fulfillment of a commandment that comes as result of a transgression disqualifies the fulfillment of the Mitzvah. One cannot steal a Lulav and recite the appropriate blessing over it.

On the first day that we take the Lulav, which will be tomorrow, one must own the lulav he or she is using. For those who do not bring their own, we will "gift" to you a lulav for the purpose of the blessing, and then you will "gift" it to someone else who did not bring a lulav. On all the remaining days, one may borrow a lulav.

The teaching about a stolen lulav had practical implications a few years later at my rabbinical seminary. The school had built a tremendous new library on the campus which cost lots of money. The project was underwritten by a board member who was financially successful. His name was Ivan Boesky. After the gift was given, and after the library was built, it was discovered that he was guilty of financial improprieties. A library of all kinds of sacred Jewish books was largely established from a proverbial stolen lulav. What to do??? Without getting into details, one of the consequences for Mr. Boesky was for him to become an auditing student and tell of his tale to the seminary community. Teshuva and recompense did take place in this and other ways.

When the Festival of Sukkot begins, I am always reminded of my first rabbinical school experience - a lesson in modesty for me from a great sage of the 20th-21^st century and a lifelong lesson in the ethical underpinnings of Jewish law and tradition, all of which started with the title of Tractate Sukkah, chapter 3, Lulav Ha'Gazul - the stolen lulav.

Chag Sameach!