I cannot begin to express at this moment how much I love being Jewish.

I just learned that in the days leading up to Passover we are supposed to go out and hug a fruit tree. But that’s not all. We are also commanded to bless it.

Can we just take a moment to absorb this? Judaism wants people to pause in their preparations for a massive home-based holiday that can take weeks to prepare for, and go outside to hug fruit trees and bless them.

Even though fruit trees have nothing to do with Passover.

But they have everything to do with being free, with being obligated to the Divine, and with being grateful for the marvelous world God created.

The blessing:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁלֹּא חִסַּר בְּעוֹלָמוֹ כְּלוּם, וּבָרָא בוֹ בְּרִיּוֹת טוֹבוֹת וְאִילָנוֹת טוֹבוֹת, לֵהָנוֹת בָּהֶם בְּנֵי אָדָם.

Baruch ata Adonai Elohenu Melech haolam, sheh lo khi-sar beolamo klum, u-vara vo briyot tovot v’ilanot tovim, l’hanot bahem benei adam.

“Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the universe, who let nothing lack in Your universe and created within it good creatures and good trees in order to give pleasure to human beings.”

There’s a lot of hubris in that last phrase. According to Genesis, humans were banished from the Garden of Eden for eating forbidden fruit. And yet we thank God for creating fruit trees expressly for us.

And we are enjoined to interact directly with these trees that feed both humans and others of God’s creatures.

With no fruit trees nearby, I felt compelled to step out and bless the Bottlebrush Tree in my yard. I had to move carefully; the tree is alive with a crowd of bees visiting the flowers.

It is not a fruit tree. But it does give so much to the world around it. It gives me joy. It gives pollen to the bees who spend their days within its branches. And it gives beauty to all who pass by my home.

It is full of life. A gift from God.

I am blessed to own a Torah scroll. The dowels onto which the parchment is sewn are each called Etz Chayim — a tree of life. Because the Torah itself is called a tree of life.

We should never confuse the container for the contents. But Torah’s essence, its timeless messages of hope and resilience, these are what inform my life. Reading from my scroll that has been lovingly repaired by caring hands and hearts, gives me strength and purpose.

And hugging my Bottlebrush tree is a tangible reminder of both the whimsy and wisdom of Judaism.