Tu BiShvat and Perek Shirah[1]

2001

A. Tu BiShvat is one of the four New Years enumerated in the Mishnah at the beginning of tractate Rosh Hashanah:

There are four new years: on the first of Nisan is the new year for kings and for festivals; on the first of Elul is the new year for the tithe of cattle—Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Shimon say, on the first of Tishrei; on the first of Tishrei is the new year for years, for Sabbatical years, for Jubilee years, for planting, and for vegetables; on the first of Shevat is the new year for trees, according to the words of Beit Shammai; Beit Hillel say, on the fifteenth of that month.

At first glance, this is a day of merely technical significance, relevant only to the commandments dependent on the Land. And this is what Maimonides writes there:

And for vegetables and for trees. The benefit of this, according to the principles already explained in Seder Zeraim, is that one may not tithe from the new on the old, and likewise the types of tithes change in certain years between second tithe and the tithe for the poor, as we explained there.

The Mishnah establishes that Tu BiShvat is the beginning of the year with respect to the tithes of trees. And so Maimonides rules in Laws of Terumot 5:11:

One may not separate tithes from the produce of this year for the produce of the previous year, nor from the produce of the previous year for the produce of this year; and if one did separate them, it is not a valid tithe, as it is said: “year by year.” If one picked vegetables on the eve of Rosh Hashanah before sunset, and then picked again after sunset, one may not tithe from one for the other, because one is new and the other old. Likewise, if one picked an etrog on the eve of the Fifteenth of Shevat before sunset, and then picked another etrog after sunset, one may not tithe from one for the other, because the first of Tishrei is the new year for the tithes of grain, legumes, and vegetables, while the Fifteenth of Shevat is the new year for the tithes of trees.

Despite the somewhat technical impression that emerges from the Mishnah and the Talmud, today we also observe certain festive practices on Tu BiShvat. Since the modern Return to Zion, attempts have been made to give it a modern, perhaps universal, coloring, as a festival of tree-planting and the like. Even earlier there were special Tu BiShvat rites whose origins lie in the world of Kabbalah and esotericism, and here too there have been attempts to give them more modern and universal tones. The custom of eating Tu BiShvat fruits is also well known (cited in the name of the author of Chemdat Yamim). Rabbi Zevin, in his book The Festivals in Jewish Law , writes: 'There were righteous men who wore festival garments on Tu BiShvat, for it is the New Year for trees, and man is the tree of the field.'

The treatment of Tu BiShvat as a festival from a halakhic perspective, beyond its technical meanings found in the Talmud, begins to emerge, apparently without any explicit source, in the period of the Geonim and the medieval authorities. We find in Mordechai on tractate Rosh Hashanah, chapter 1, no. 701, and likewise in Hagahot Maimoniot, chapter 1 of Shofar, that a fast falling on Tu BiShvat is postponed. This is the wording of Hagahot Maimoniot there:

In the responsum of the Ritzba it is written that even on the Fifteenth of Shevat one should not fast, and if a community decreed a fast on Monday and Thursday, they postpone this fast until the following week, for we do not find fasting on a New Year. Furthermore, since the Mishnah lists the four new years together, they are also comparable to one another in this matter: all of them are alike in that one should not fast on them. End quote.

And similarly, in Otzar HaGeonim to Rosh Hashanah, no. 139, it is cited from the Agudah in the name of a Gaon that one should not fast on any of the four New Years enumerated in the Mishnah at the beginning of Rosh Hashanah, and more.

These laws also appear in the Shulchan Arukh and its commentators. For example, in Orach Chayim 572:3 he rules in accordance with the aforementioned medieval authorities:

If a community wished to decree a fast on Monday, Thursday, and Monday, and the Fifteenth of Shevat fell on one of those days, the fast is postponed to the following week, so that they not decree a fast on the Fifteenth of Shevat, which is the New Year for the trees. Gloss: however, if they already began fasting, they do not interrupt, just as on Rosh Chodesh and Chol HaMoed (Beit Yosef).

And in sec. 131:6 the Mechaber rules:

It is customary not to fall on one’s face [for supplication] on the Fifteenth of Av, nor on the Fifteenth of Shevat, nor on Rosh Chodesh, nor at the afternoon prayer preceding it, nor on Hanukkah—and some say also at the afternoon prayer preceding it (and such is the custom). On Purim, one does not fall on one’s face; on Lag BaOmer one does not fall; on the eve of Yom Kippur one does not fall; and likewise on the eve of Rosh Hashanah, even at Shacharit—these are customs.

Accordingly, he rules that penitential supplications are omitted on Tu BiShvat.

The Magen Avraham, in sec. 573, subsec. 1, went even further and wrote:

In Nisan one may fast, for it is only a custom (Ba"ch), and it seems to me that the same applies to Lag BaOmer, and from Rosh Chodesh Sivan until Shavuot, and on the days between Yom Kippur and Sukkot. But on Isru Chag, and on the Fifteenth of Av, and on the Fifteenth of Shevat, one should not fast, since it is mentioned in the Talmud; see section 429, where this is discussed.

He rules that a bridegroom does not fast on Tu BiShvat, in contrast to the month of Nisan, because Tu BiShvat has Talmudic standing. From the reasoning of the Magen Avraham it emerges that he understood that Tu BiShvat already has the status of a festival in the Talmud itself.

As we have seen, the Geonim grounded the festive practices of Tu BiShvat in the fact that it is one of the four New Years. That is, the very fact that Tu BiShvat is the New Year for the tree, apparently a merely technical fact, is what constitutes the source and root of its festival character. Below we shall try to explain this connection.

B. On Rosh Hashanah, the first of Tishrei, we observe an actual festival, and the medieval authorities explained this (see Nachmanides in his homily for Rosh Hashanah, Sefer HaChinukh commandment 311, and more) as due to the fact that it is a Day of Judgment. The very standing in judgment before the Creator of the world is the reason for the festive joy that we are commanded to experience. If so, it stands to reason that the festive practices associated with the New Year for the tree are likewise rooted in its being a Day of Judgment.

However, from the Mishnah it appears that Tu BiShvat is indeed the New Year for the tree, yet it has no significance at all as a Day of Judgment. We have seen that this date serves to establish a demarcation line for the commandments dependent on the Land, and there is no judgment there. Moreover, the Mishnah in Rosh Hashanah 1:2 states:

At four times the world is judged: on Passover concerning grain; on Shavuot concerning the fruits of the tree; on Rosh Hashanah all who enter the world pass before Him like sheep, as it is said (Psalms 33): “He who fashions their hearts together, who understands all their deeds”; and on Sukkot they are judged concerning water.

The Mishnah establishes that on Shavuot judgment is rendered concerning the fruits of the tree. If so, the Day of Judgment for the fruits of the tree is on Shavuot, not on Tu BiShvat.

Nevertheless, in the Cairo Genizah a kerovah (= a liturgical poem arranged according to the order of the Amidah) was found for Tu BiShvat, composed in the Land of Israel during the Geonic period, and it contains petitions for the flourishing of trees, such as: 'Adar trickles flowing salvation; the walnut blossoms for delights..' This piyyut continues in the same manner, except that each stanza mentions a different tree for whose flourishing one prays. The trees mentioned in it are: walnut, cypress, vine, plane tree, myrtle, rose, olive, carob, almond, myrrh, spikenard and saffron, willow, castor plant, pomegranate, sycamore, and shirok. Scholars assume that the ancient custom in the Land of Israel was to regard Tu BiShvat as a Day of Judgment for the tree. Likewise, in the book Bnei Yissaschar it is reported that he received from his teachers that one should pray on Tu BiShvat for a beautiful etrog (citron).

These matters are difficult to understand in light of the Mishnah in tractate Rosh Hashanah cited above. At first glance, it would seem that specifically Shavuot is the time to pray for the flourishing of trees, and not Tu BiShvat. Beyond that, an examination of the trees mentioned in the piyyut cited above shows that some of them are non-fruit-bearing trees and not fruit trees, and if so it is not at all clear why we should pray for their flourishing.

Perhaps one may suggest an explanation for the nature of Tu BiShvat that answers these difficulties: Tu BiShvat is the New Year for the tree, not for the fruits. Therefore it pertains to non-fruit-bearing trees no less than to fruit trees. If so, on Shavuot the fruits of the tree are judged, whereas on Tu BiShvat the trees themselves are judged.

It seems that this is the reason Tu BiShvat falls at the season when sap rises in the trees, that is, before the fruits emerge. The essence of the day concerns not the fruits but the power that produces them, namely the tree itself.[2] Even Tu BiShvat's function as the New Year for the tithing of trees in fact has significance for fruits that we will not eat, that is, those that we will separate as tithe.

Perhaps this is the meaning of the treatment of Tu BiShvat as a Day of Judgment, and therefore also as a festival. The four Days of Judgment mentioned in the Mishnah concern man. Tu BiShvat is a Day of Judgment for the tree in itself, and not in relation to man.

C. The assumption that underlay the misunderstanding above was that the flourishing of trees necessarily means the production of many fine fruits. This is a way of looking at things in which man stands at the center, and the trees exist solely for him. Tu BiShvat comes to teach us that we are not always at the center. Man is meant to repair creation, and in that sense he is its chief servant and not its head.

This is also a possible interpretation of the prohibition against eating from the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, a prohibition that perhaps came to teach Adam, and us as well, that trees have significance in and of themselves and not only as producers of fruit for us (in halakhic language: they have a 'body,' and not only a 'body for fruits'). Trees were not intended only for eating; they have significance in themselves, and therefore over every blade of grass stands an angel and says to it, 'Grow.'[3]

This should also be discussed with respect to the prohibition of 'do not destroy' as it applies to non-fruit-bearing trees. At first glance it would seem from Jewish law that there is no prohibition here, and this appears from the plain meaning of the verses in Deuteronomy 20:19-20:

When you besiege a city for many days to fight against it and capture it, you shall not destroy its trees by wielding an axe against them; for from them you may eat, and you shall not cut them down. Is the tree of the field a man, to come before you in the siege? Only a tree that you know is not a food tree—you may destroy and cut down, and build siegeworks against the city that is making war against you, until it falls.

It would seem that non-fruit-bearing trees may be destroyed, and that the prohibition applies only to fruit trees. Maimonides writes likewise in Laws of Kings 6:9:

Any non-fruit-bearing tree may be cut down, even if one has no need for it. Likewise, a fruit tree that has grown old and produces only a small amount, not worth the effort involved, may be cut down. And how much must an olive tree produce so that one may not cut it down? A quarter-kav of olives. And a palm tree that produces a kav of dates may not be cut down.

In fact, the Talmud in Bava Kamma 69b derives that the rule learned from there is only that non-fruit-bearing trees take precedence over fruit trees, but even fruit trees may be destroyed for the sake of a siege. On the other hand, outside the context of a siege, it is certainly possible to understand that even non-fruit-bearing trees may not be destroyed.

And indeed, Nachmanides there writes as follows:

(19–20) “For man is the tree of the field”—Rabbi Abraham explained this well: the sense of the verse is, “for from it you may eat, for man is the tree of the field, and you shall not cut it down to come against you in the siege.” And the meaning of “for man is the tree of the field” is like “for he takes a life as pledge” (below 24:6). But according to the view of our Rabbis (Bava Kamma 91b), it is permitted to cut down a fruit tree to build siegeworks, and the Torah said only, “only a tree that you know is not a food tree,” etc., merely to give precedence to a non-fruit-bearing tree over a fruit tree. If so, the meaning of the passage according to them is that the Torah warned: “you shall not destroy its trees,” meaning, do not cut them down destructively and unnecessarily for the needs of the siege, as armies are accustomed to do. And the reason is that those who wage war destroy in the city and throughout the surrounding land if they are able, as in the verse: “and every good tree you shall fell, and all springs of water you shall stop up” (II Kings 3:19). But you shall not do so in order to destroy it, for you should trust in the Name that He will deliver it into your hand. For man is the tree of the field; from it you will eat and live, and by it the city will come under siege before you—meaning, you will live from it after you conquer the city, and likewise while you are in the camp besieging it, you should do so. And the meaning of “you may destroy and cut down it” is that you are permitted to cut it down to build the siegeworks, and even to destroy it until the city falls, for sometimes destruction is necessary for conquest—for example, if the men of the city go out and gather wood from it, or hide there in the forest to fight you, or if those trees serve the city as shelter and concealment from missiles.

And so too in Rashi to Bava Kamma 91b:

"A food tree"—this is what it means: only a tree which you know—if you do not know, it is presumed to be for siege use; but if it is one of food, leave it, even though it is a food tree.

Indeed, it is clear that non-fruit-bearing trees are no different from any other item useful to man whose wasteful destruction is prohibited under the rule of 'do not destroy.' Today we know that non-fruit-bearing trees are also ecologically important to us, and therefore there is no obstacle to extending the prohibition to them as well. The fact that the Torah distinguished between non-fruit-bearing trees and fruit trees serves only to teach us that what matters is what is beneficial for human use, as opposed to eco-ethics.

And according to the suggestion of Rashi and Nachmanides, even that is not correct. The Torah merely gave precedence to non-fruit-bearing trees over fruit trees, but where there is no need to cut, even non-fruit-bearing trees may not be cut.

By way of contrast, D. T. Suzuki, a well-known Japanese Zen scholar who devoted himself to conveying Eastern culture to Westerners, illustrates the difference between the Western world and the Eastern world by means of two poems which are apparently similar and express a similar experience, yet differ from the root up:[4]

Looking carefully I see the shepherd's purse blooming beside the hedge                     (Basho, a Japanese poet, 17th century)

Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, – here I hold you, root and all, in my hand. Little flower – if only I could understand what you are, root and all, and all in all, then the secret of God and man would be revealed to me                 (Tennyson, an English poet, 19th century)

Basho contemplates the flower passively, and he does not aspire to do anything beyond that. Tennyson, by contrast, is active. He wants to master it ('and subdue it'), understand it (science), and in fact looks at it from the outside ('if only I could understand what you are'). Ordinarily we live by the Western mode of relation (which in fact grew out of the Jewish conception), but on Tu BiShvat we ought also to live the Eastern experience.

If what we have said is correct, it seems that no study is more appropriate for Tu BiShvat than Perek Shirah, in which all creation—inanimate, vegetative, and animate—utters song before the Holy One, blessed be He.[5] This is a chapter 'Eastern' in character, in which every creature has an independent standing before the Creator, and not only as the servant of man. In fact, in certain respects (see below), Tu BiShvat is their New Year, not ours.

Let the reader of the letter serve as the courier. Let us study a bit of Perek Shirah, and in fact we shall see that we have already done so in our remarks thus far.

D. The first mishnah in Perek Shirah is:

It is taught: Rabbi Eliezer says, whoever recites this chapter of Perek Shirah in this world merits to recite it in the World to Come.…

One who recites Perek Shirah repairs what Adam damaged in the Garden of Eden, and thereby contributes something to our return there. As stated, the meaning of Perek Shirah is that the inanimate, the vegetative, and the animate have an intrinsic significance in their relation to the Holy One, blessed be He, and in this Adam's mistake is corrected—he who ate from the tree from which he was forbidden to eat (he turned it from a 'body' into a 'body for fruits').

The second mishnah begins similarly to the first, but its ending says everything:

And it is taught: Rabbi Eliezer the Great says, whoever engages in this chapter of Perek Shirah every day—I testify concerning him that he is destined for the World to Come… And know that everything the Holy One, blessed be He, created, He created only for His glory, as it is said: “Everyone who is called by My name, and for My glory I created him, I formed him, even I made him.”

Here we also see the explanation for why one who recites this chapter is destined for the World to Come. He comes to understand that everything created, formed, and made (in the worlds of Creation, Formation, and Action) is for the honor of the Holy One, blessed be He, and not necessarily for his own honor, as explained in the previous mishnah. More generally, even morality in relation to human beings is based on the divine image in man, and not on human dignity in and of itself (see Yair Lorberbaum's book, Image of God).

In the third mishnah it is stated that King David too inclined toward Adam's error:

The Sages said about David, king of Israel, that when he finished the Book of Psalms, he became proud and said before the Holy One, blessed be He: Is there any creature You created in Your world that says more songs and praises than I do? At that moment a frog appeared to him and said: David, do not become proud, for I say more songs and praises than you… And not only that, but I am engaged in a great commandment, and this is the commandment with which I am engaged: on the seashore there is a certain species whose sustenance comes only from the water, and when it is hungry it takes me and eats me. This is the commandment of fulfilling what is said: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him bread, and if he is thirsty, give him water to drink, for you will heap coals upon his head, and the Lord will reward you.” Do not read “He will reward you” but rather “He will make him whole for you.”

Here the frog is a means and not an end, but it is a means for another living creature and not for man. Earlier we saw that man is not exceptional in being an end rather than a means. Here we continue and see that he is not exceptional even when he is indeed an end for which animals serve as means. There are situations in which animals too constitute an end for which other animals exist as means. This insight of the frog is itself its song before God.

In the mishnah in the middle of the chapter our familiar trees appear:

The other trees say: “Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy before the Lord, for He comes to judge the earth.”

This is quite literally Tu BiShvat. Here the song of the trees is mentioned when God comes to judge the earth. This is the festival that the trees celebrate on the day they stand in judgment before the Holy One, blessed be He (the New Year for the trees themselves; see above, end of section C).

The Mabit, in his commentary on this passage, writes:

Just as the trees that bear fruit will have their fruit in great abundance in the future, so too the trees of the forest, which are non-fruit-bearing trees, will bear fruit in the future, and they will sing before the Lord over this, for He comes to judge the earth—that the whole earth will equally produce fruit.

At the end of days the non-fruit-bearing trees will grow fruit, and the distinction between non-fruit-bearing trees and fruit trees will be erased forever. The circle that was breached by Adam's sin will be closed again and brought to completion. It seems that then ('then our mouth will be filled with laughter'), after we have learned the lesson, we shall be permitted to eat from them all.

Perek Shirah concludes with the song of the dogs, and immediately afterward with an account of Rabbi Yeshaya, disciple of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa, who was distressed and fasted eighty-five fasts in order to understand how dogs—of whom it is written that they are 'strong of appetite, they know no satiety,' and 'evil ones that do not know understanding,' and more—merited to utter song before the Creator. An angel from heaven appears to him and says this:

An oath from before the Holy One, blessed be He: from the day that He revealed it to the prophet Habakkuk, He revealed this secret to no one in the world. But because you are a great man and worthy that one attend to you, permission was given to me to tell you by what merit the dogs were privileged to recite song. For it is written concerning them: “But against any of the children of Israel not a dog shall sharpen its tongue, against man or beast, so that you may know that the Lord distinguishes between Egypt and Israel.” Therefore they merited to recite song. And not only that, but they merited that their excrement be processed into hides upon which tefillin, Torah, Prophets, Writings, and mezuzot are written. As for the question you asked—withdraw from it and turn back, as it is written: “He who guards his mouth and his tongue guards his soul from troubles.”

The Mabit explains that the dogs merited to utter song because they served Israel, and they merited to serve in preparing hides for tefillin and scrolls because they did not sharpen their tongues even against the animals of Israel.[6] But one may well wonder: what great secret is hidden here, according to the angel's words? And especially, why does he say that he did not answer the question? The entire passage is an answer to that very question.

It seems that here the circle closes. The dogs merited an independent standing, to utter song before the Holy One, blessed be He, not because they properly served human beings. That was only the answer Rabbi Yeshaya received in accordance with his anthropocentric approach. The secret that the Holy One, blessed be He, does not reveal is that the dogs merit to utter song before Him irrespective of their service to human beings. They have an independent standing before the Holy One, blessed be He. Rabbi Yeshaya, however, does not receive this answer, for from within his anthropocentric outlook it is not understandable at all. According to his view, the answer is that the dogs merited this because they properly served the animals of human beings, and human beings themselves.[7] Even according to this view, we still see that the means becomes the end, and vice versa. As we saw above, sometimes the animal serves man, but sometimes it serves another animal. And sometimes precisely by virtue of these two roles it acquires standing and independent importance, as an end and not as a servant. It may be that the entire inquiry into who is the end and who is the means rests on an incorrect assumption. All of us stand before the Holy One, blessed be He, as one whole, and the purpose of that whole—the entire world—is to utter song.

E. Why is it not proper to reveal the secret that dogs and the rest of creation have an independent standing before the Holy One, blessed be He? After all, even here we have revealed this secret. It seems that this is what Rav Kook writes in 'The Vision of Vegetarianism and Peace': if we live with the awareness that all creation has an independent standing before the Holy One, blessed be He, and that all of it has intrinsic value, then we may come to a situation in which we equate its value with the value of human beings. This is an excess liable to lead to grave moral errors, and therefore it is not proper to reveal this secret. Only in the future will we be able to live in this way without fear of those errors.

Even now, however, if we can preserve proportion—that is, see value in living beings and in the inanimate, and yet not equate that value with the value of human beings—then it is more correct to live this way. And even in the future, when we live in a manner that grants all these things intrinsic value, their value will still not be identical to the value of human beings; but then there will be no concern that this will lead to the aforementioned errors.

This is the story of Rabbi Aryeh Levin, who came to the Land, accompanied Rav Kook on a walk, and when he plucked a leaf Rav Kook was shocked that he had plucked it without need. If one wishes to make use of something, then it is certainly permitted to do so at the expense of the animate, the vegetative, and the inanimate; but not simply so, without benefit. Thus we also saw with regard to the destruction of non-fruit-bearing trees, which is permitted for human need but not gratuitously. And so too with fruit trees: non-fruit-bearing trees should take precedence over them, but even they may be destroyed if there is a need to do so for our purposes.

And so we find in the midrash Kohelet Rabbah (Vilna), parashah 7:

"See the work of God, for who can make straight what He has made crooked" (Ecclesiastes 7:13). When the Holy One, blessed be He, created the first man, He took him and led him around all the trees of the Garden of Eden and said to him: See My works, how beautiful and praiseworthy they are; and all that I created, I created for you. Take care not to ruin and destroy My world, for if you ruin it, there will be no one to repair it after you.

At first glance, the midrash states that the entire world was created for man. But a closer reading shows that what is written here is that he has permission to use the whole world, not that this is the entire purpose of creation. On the contrary, after permission for use is granted, the Holy One, blessed be He, warns him not to destroy the world, for it is not intended only for his use, and it has purposes of its own. Once again we see the hierarchy: things do indeed have intrinsic value, but it is certainly permitted to use them for our needs.

It is therefore clear that one must not infer from these remarks an egalitarian relation between man and the other creatures, as some err and lead others astray.[8] What is certainly proper to learn from here is an attitude of respect toward every created being as such.

[1] These remarks are based in part on a talk delivered at the yeshiva on Rosh Chodesh Shevat four years ago.

[2] Daniel Shalit, in chapter 2 of his book 'Sihot Panim' (p. 119), cites Noga Hareuveni, in his book 'Nature and Landscape in Israel's Heritage,' as saying that on Tu BiShvat it is not fruit trees that take root, but precisely non-fruit-bearing trees. According to our approach, this fits very well.

[3] It may be that this depends on the dispute between Maimonides and Maharam Gabai (author of 'Avodat HaKodesh') as to whether every particular in creation has an independent role, or whether all were intended for man. See, for example, the beginning of Sefer HaKelalim by the author of the Leshem, who discusses this.

[4] I hereby intend to discharge all of us from the obligation of the 'Poetry from the Wilderness' column. Everyone should intend to fulfill the obligation, not speak during the reading, etc. My apologies to all the scandalized.

[5] Usually we are accustomed to "Write for yourselves this song.", with respect to the Written Torah. On Tu BiShvat even the Oral Torah, Jewish law, utters song.

[6] The use for processing hides is not one of the dogs' merits, but the reward they received for their merits.

[7] In Sefer HaKelalim, in the passage mentioned above, the author of the Leshem reconciles the views of Maimonides and Maharam Gabai and explains that the intrinsic purpose of all creatures is to serve man. This is their own intrinsic purpose, and apparently precisely in that they utter their own song before the Holy One, blessed be He. This is indeed a great secret, as the angel says to Rabbi Yeshaya, and this is precisely our point as well, but this is not the place to elaborate.

[8] The reference is to Zen sages, and to the extremists among those who advocate what is called 'eco-ethics,' that is, ecology on moral grounds. This approach is developing in the West as a reaction to the opposite approach (expressed by Tennyson's poem above), but we must understand that the correct path is the middle way, certainly at present, when the world has not yet reached its repair. The same is true with regard to vegetarianism and veganism, but this is not the place to elaborate.