Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz, Rabbi of the Western Wall and Holy Sites
A pleasant and heartwarming holiday falls during the midst of the long, gray winter – Tu Bishvat, the New Year for Trees, celebrated on the fifteenth of Shevat.
On this day, according to our Sages, a quiet turning point occurs in nature: the trees begin to renew themselves, sap rises in their trunks, the first buds of blossoms appear, and a spirit of freshness and renewal fills the air. Although the eye does not yet perceive a dramatic change, beneath the surface, the movement of life has already begun.
In the early days of the State of Israel, and even before its establishment, there was a moving custom: when a child was born, the Jewish National Fund would send the parents a letter informing them of the privilege of planting a tree in the child’s name. Planting a tree in the Land of Israel symbolized growth, roots, hope, and continuity. This was not merely an ecological gesture, but the expression of a deep bond.
All of this stems from the connection between the tree and the human being, and between the tree and the Torah – a connection rooted in the well-known verses:
“For man is a tree of the field”
(Deuteronomy 20:19)
“She is a tree of life to those who grasp her”
(Proverbs 3:18)
Jewish philosophy explains this metaphor in depth: the human being is likened to a tree – but an inverted one. Just as a tree draws its life from the earth through its roots, which absorb water and nourish all its parts, so too does a person draw spiritual vitality from the heavens.
The soul, hovering above the human mind, channels spiritual life through the head, which serves as roots, to all the limbs, which are the branches, granting the person the strength to study Torah and perform commandments, which are like the fruits. For this reason, the Sages taught that from Tu Bishvat onward, a special vitality is renewed in thought, and a person gains a deeper capacity for renewal in Torah study.
A person’s success in educating their children is likewise compared to the fruits of a tree. Our Sages saw a person’s descendants as the continuation of their growth in the world.
The Talmud (Ta’anit 5b) relates a remarkable story: when Rav Nachman asked Rav Yitzchak to bless him, Rav Yitzchak replied with a parable about a man lost in the desert who found a tree whose fruits were sweet, whose shade was pleasant, and beneath which flowed running water. After enjoying all these blessings, he sought to bless the tree, but all blessings had already been realized in it. Therefore, he blessed it that its future plantings would be like it. So too, the true blessing of a complete person is that their descendants follow their path and continue their virtues.
Yet the wording of the verse raises a profound question, as noted by the late Rosh Yeshiva of Mir, Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz z”l. The Torah does not say “man is a tree of the forest” or “a tree of the orchard,” but specifically “a tree of the field.” But in a field, one usually finds low-growing plants, vegetables and flowers, rather than towering trees. Why did the Torah choose this image?
The answer is striking: to be a tree in a forest or an orchard is not particularly remarkable. Everyone around you is a tree. But to be a tree in a field – to grow and flourish in a place where everyone else remains low, where people are content with little and settle for mediocrity – that is a true virtue. That is what is asked of a person: grow, blossom, and prove to everyone that no matter how low your starting point may have been, you have the ability to draw from the infinite waters descending from above and become a tree that bears sweet fruit and improves its surroundings.
Precisely in a place where everyone is preoccupied with themselves and no one takes responsibility – be a person. Take responsibility, and show everyone that even in a field, a tree can grow.
This idea resonates with the words of our Sages: “In a place where there are no people, strive to be a person” (Pirkei Avot 2:5). In a place of indifference, irresponsibility, and self-absorption, a person is called upon to rise and be that lone tree growing in the field.
We often witness complex situations in which many people stand on the side occupied with their own concerns and do not step forward – bystander apathy. But true growth is not born of indifference. The person who stands up and assumes the role of the “person of the hour” is the one who ultimately truly grows and leaves behind generations of sweet fruits nurtured by a tree that never ceased to grow and blossom.
Wishing you a happy and flourishing Tu Bishvat!
