World of the Sages: Empty pomegranates

Why is this fruit a symbol of business success, extending Torah knowledge or fulfillment of mitzvot?

pomegranate 88 (photo credit: )
pomegranate 88
(photo credit: )
Pomegranates are one of the seven species with which the Land of Israel is blessed (see Deuteronomy 8:8). It is no wonder they played a prominent place in Jewish ritual art from ancient times. Thus images of pomegranates were woven into the hem of the robe worn by the high priest (see Exodus 28:33-34). In the Temple constructed by King Solomon, their image adorned the capitals of the two pillars - known as Yachin and Boaz - which stood at its entrance (see I Kings 7:13-22). Pomegranates were also depicted on coins from ancient Judea. This tradition was revived when the two shekel coin entered circulation on Hanukka 2007. This new coin features a pomegranate as well as a double cornucopia, that is, double horn of plenty. It was modeled after a coin struck by Yohanan Hyrcanus, the Hasmonean king and high priest in the second century BCE. Given this background, it is unsurprising that our sages considered seeing pomegranates in a dream a fortuitous omen. The Talmud tells us that the significance depends on the size and condition of the fruit (B. Brachot 57a). If the pomegranates are small, the dream indicates that the dreamer's business will be fruitful like a pomegranate. If the pomegranates are large, the business will not only be fruitful, but will expand and grow. If the pomegranates are split, two possible meanings may be surmised, depending on the scholarship of the dreamer. Dreamers who are Torah scholars may anticipate attaining further Torah knowledge if they see split pomegranates. Dreamers who are not well versed in Torah can expect to have the opportunity to fulfill more of the Almighty's commandments. Why is the pomegranate - rather than any other fruit - a symbol of business success, extending Torah knowledge or increasing fulfillment of mitzvot? A pomegranate's many seeds reflect a fertile capacity to reproduce and grow; the size of the fruit suggests the extent of this potential. A well-known popular custom is to partake of a pomegranate on Rosh Hashana and to say: "May it be Your will, God, that our merits increase as [the seeds of] a pomegranate," once again evoking the fertile potential of the pomegranate. The talmudic passage concludes the pomegranate discussion by expounding a biblical image: Like a section of pomegranate are your temples. This curious simile appears twice in the poetic Song of Songs (4:3, 6:7), and our sages offered a lesson homiletically interpreting the unusual word for temples (rakateich): "Even those who are empty [reikateich or reikanim shebach] are as full of mitzvot as a pomegranate [is full of seeds]." While the number of actual seeds of a pomegranate varies with each individual fruit, the pomegranate is said to contain 613 seeds corresponding to the 613 commandments as enumerated by our forebears over the generations. This adage - "even the empty are filled with mitzvot like a pomegranate" - appears numerous times in talmudic literature (B. Sanhedrin 37a). In one version the proverb is extended to include not just the empty, but even the sinners among Israel (B. Eruvin 19a; B. Hagiga 27a). According to another reference, the city of Tiberias was also called Rakat, for even the empty ones (reikanim) of that city were filled with mitzvot like a pomegranate (B. Megila 6a). The commentators ponder the upshot of this oft-quoted passage: If empty people - and perhaps even sinners - are so full of mitzvot, why are they still called empty? The hassidic master Rabbi Ya'acov Leiner of Radzyn (1828-1878) understood that such empty people are filled only by a certain mitzva: They are filled with the merit of giving donations and offering assistance, a mitzva which can be performed in countless ways. Such people may nevertheless be empty of other merits. Another commentator - Rabbi Yosef Haim of Baghdad (1840-1913) - also attempted to explain why such filled people are nonetheless called empty. First he suggested that their intent is filled with mitzvot, yet when it comes to action they are sorely lacking. On account of their inaction, they are still considered empty. Rabbi Yosef Haim offered a second suggestion focused on the purity with which such people perform mitzvot. While such people are filled with merits from performing untold mitzvot, their performance is faulty. They fulfill the divine commandments while concurrently deriving earthly pleasure; just like the pomegranate, the seed and the surrounding pulp are one. As we know, these arils, made of mixed matter, are edible. Despite being full of mitzvot, such people are sadly empty of pure actions done solely for the sake of God with no dross attached. One of the 20th-century leaders of the Ponevezh Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, Rabbi Dovid Povarsky, suggested that the key to understanding why such full people are still termed empty, lies in the comparison to the pomegranate. He noted that all fruits are filled inside not just the pomegranate. Other fruits, such as an apple, are one entity inside. The pomegranate, however, is filled by many separate and lone pieces. While such people are indeed filled with many small, individual merits, their entire being has not coalesced into one entity, that is, a meritorious life filled with good deeds. Thus they are still empty, just as the pomegranate is empty of one combined substance. Without discounting these explanations, it would appear that they miss the thrust of the sages' message, or as least go against the grain of the talmudic dictum. Our sages are urging us to view these people as filled with merits, despite their initial empty appearance. The commentators, however, are suggesting the opposite: Know that despite being filled with mitzvot, these people are still essentially empty in some significant way. This may lead us to a further connection between the pomegranate and Rosh Hashana. As we usher in the new year, we beseech the Almighty to view us as filled with merits like a pomegranate, focusing not on our emptiness but on the myriad of mitzvot we have performed and on our fruitful potential. The writer is on the faculty of Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies and is a rabbi in Tzur Hadassah.