The Fig Tree needs our Tshuva

By Alpha Brew, B'erot Student 2005-2006

Being here during my first week at Midreshet B'erot was quite a shift from what it was like to visit my parents in the US over the summer. However, despite all my ignorance about the land's history and given my healthy lack of respect for politics and the media I feel truly connected to this place, from my heart. Unlike so many other places in the world where I have been that fed my head with all modes of sense gratification.

Not in this place. Here, the land is busy preparing for something much bigger than that.

In Rav Eliyahu Berkowitz' class, we were all discussing the power and process of tshuva. At one point, he said something that resounded in my heart like a bell.

"Even the trees want me to do tshuva."

It seemed that statement stayed within the collective mind of our group of women for quite awhile; and by no coincidence, later that same day, Rebbetzin Chana Bracha took us for a hike. The class was to be about one of the seven fruits that are native to Eretz Yisrael.

Our destination… a fig tree.

We were hot and sweaty and, quite frankly, some of us were getting a little impatient when we finally saw the tree ahead in the distance. As we got closer, we discovered that it was nestled up against a white cliff that even provided a little seat for two. The group gathered 'round the tree's thick trunk, sitting beneath its cool and merciful shade. There, we learned.

Of the several rabbinical teachings that we went over, I was most interested to hear that the fig tree was possibly one and the same as the Tree of Knowledge in Gan Eden. The Torah states that [Chava saw that the tree was pleasing to look at, good for food, and that it would make one wise] (Bereishit 3:6)

I found it interesting that Chava could see that the fruit was good for food. Could she have possibly been hungry? Didn't HaShem satisfy Adam and Chava with all that had been created in Gan Eden? She may not have needed it; but even so, it was her eyes that led her to want it anyway.

It sounded all too familiar. It was the ultimate case of buyer's remorse. "It looked good at the time; but now, come to think of it, I don't really need it." We discussed this idea further. Could it be that even today we are getting confused between what we really need and what we merely want? Are we letting our egos take charge as we desperately grasp onto a mirage known as "all that is pleasing to look at?"

We talked about what it means to have more than one really needs. What came to mind were all the cars parked at the nearest shopping malls and all those people strolling along, shopping for vanities.

In stark contrast, we contemplated the former residents of Gush Katif who, as a community, made a commitment to have no more than what they needed. Yet, they were forced to leave their homes. It seemed so backwards. So unfair.

Chana Bracha noted that the tree we were sitting under was sick. I reached out for the nearest leaf and drew it closer to examine it and sure enough it had a dull and scratched sort of appearance.

People having more than what they need.

Getting confused between what we need and what we want.

In Gan Eden, we didn't need anything. HaShem just gave it to us.

In the wake of the massive evacuation of Gush Katif; during this month of Elul, the urgency for change is all the more pressing within all of us. The land reveals her secrets for a profound return "home." Are we listening?