The Legacy of the Acacia Tree: Planting Seeds of Redemption
BY RABBANIT SHANI TARAGIN
In the heart of the Torah’s narrative of the construction of the Mishkan to be read in the upcoming weeks, one seemingly humble material is chosen to form the very foundation of this sacred space: the acacia trees, atzei shittim. Mentioned repeatedly in Shemot chapters 25 and 26, the acacia wood was to be used for the beams, boards, and even the Ark of the Covenant itself. Despite its modest appearance, the acacia tree serves as a profound symbol of foresight, faith, and the eternal message of Jewish resilience.
The Midrash reveals an extraordinary insight: These acacia trees didn’t simply grow in the desert by chance. Rather, our forefather Ya’akov, with prophetic vision, planted these trees in Egypt, instructing his children to take them when they would eventually leave (Tanchuma, Terumah 9). This seemingly simple act of planting trees carries deep significance, particularly as we approach Tu BiShvat, the New Year of Trees.
What inspired Ya’akov to plant these particular trees? The Midrash teaches that Ya’akov saw through divine inspiration that his descendants would build a Mishkan in the desert. Rather than leaving this crucial material to chance, he took action generations before it would be needed. This act of planting wasn’t merely practical preparation; it was a powerful statement of faith in the fulfillment of Divine promises of redemption.
The Kli Yakar elaborates on this theme, noting that the word “shittim” (acacia) is related to the word “shtut” (foolishness). In planting these trees, Ya’akov was engaging in what appeared to be an act of foolishness to his contemporaries. Who plants trees for a future temple while in exile? Yet this apparent “foolishness” was actually the highest wisdom – the wisdom of hope and unwavering faith. Rav Ovadia Sforno adds another layer of meaning to the choice of acacia wood. Unlike other trees, the acacia is known for its extraordinary durability and resistance to decay. This quality mirrors the eternal nature of the Jewish people’s relationship with the Divine. Just as the acacia stands firm in harsh conditions, the Jewish people have demonstrated remarkable resilience throughout history.
Rabbi Soloveitchik explains that the Torah details that the planks for the Mishkan must be constructed from acacia wood, upright – omdim, “to teach the rule that the planks for the Mishkan must be cut from the acacia tree parallel to the direction of the tree’s original growth (derech gidulo)” (Sukkah 45b). If derech gidulo is absent, the object itself is invalid. My former high-school principal, Rav Eliyahu Safran, elucidates that this was reason enough for Ya’akov Avinu to bring the shittim trees with him to Egypt and not leave them in the wilderness for his children to find on their own. It was important for them to see how the trees grew – standing and upright – so that they could see how they too should grow derech gidulo, with pride and confidence.
This message resonates particularly strongly as we celebrate Tu BiShvat. The holiday, occurring in the depths of winter when trees appear lifeless, celebrates the hidden renewal stirring beneath the surface. Like Ya’akov’s acacia trees, which waited generations to fulfill their purpose, the seemingly dormant trees contain within them the promise of spring’s renewal. The Rebbe of Kotzk taught that the acacia trees, planted with pure intention and nurtured through years of exile, carried within them the tears and prayers of generations. These weren’t merely construction materials; they were living testimonies to the power of Jewish hope and perseverance.
In our own times, as we face periods of darkness and uncertainty, the message of Ya’akov’s acacia trees becomes ever more relevant; they remind us that even in war, we must plant seeds of triumph, and even in winter, we must prepare for spring. Just as he planted for a future he would not personally see, we too are called upon to act with faith and hope in the future redemption. Each positive action we take, each mitzvah we perform, each kindness we share, is like planting an acacia tree – an investment in the future that may bear fruit in ways we cannot yet imagine!
Rabbanit Shani Taragin is Educational Director of Mizrachi and the Director of the Mizrachi-TVA Lapidot Educators’ Program.