Every year during Sukkot, Jewish homes sprout with palm branches, myrtles, willows, and etrogs (citrons). But if you’ve ever paused mid-Sukkot morning shuffle and wondered, “Why exactly are these three bundled together while the poor etrog stands alone?” – you’re not alone. Add to that the debate over whether the bundle needs palm-leaf holders, knots, velcro, or even gold, and suddenly the Four Species start to feel more like a mystery novel than a mitzvah.
Let’s dive into this leafy labyrinth.
What’s a “Koishele” Anyway?
For the uninitiated, a koishele is the woven palm-leaf basket that holds the lulav set together: a central tube for the palm branch, side tubes for the myrtle and willow, plus a few palm-leaf rings to keep the whole contraption from falling apart. It looks simple once you see it, but making one by hand can feel like DIY Ikea furniture – minus the instruction sheet.
Some people learn from family tradition; others rely on YouTube or guides with step-by-step photos. Either way, it’s not a halachic requirement. It’s just a convenient, traditional way to keep the bundle neat. In fact, the Talmud never mandated a koishele – so technically, a handful of rubber bands would work just fine. But tradition tends to favor palm leaves over office supplies, if only for aesthetics.
Velcro, Gold, and Everything in Between
Now, about those ties. Classical halachic debate centers on whether binding the lulav, myrtle (hadas), and willow (arava) is actually required.
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Rabbi Yehudah’s view: They must be tied. He derives this from a textual link – what the sages call a gezeirah shavah (verbal analogy) – between the verse in Leviticus 23:40 (“you shall take [the species]”) and Exodus 12:22 (“you shall take a bundle of hyssop”). If hyssop required bundling, then so must the lulav set (Sukkah 33a).
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The majority view: Binding is a nice way to beautify the mitzvah (zeh Keli v’anveihu – “This is my God, and I will glorify Him,” Exodus 15:2) but not strictly required.
So yes, you could technically strap your lulav together with velcro, yarn, or even metallic ribbon. In fact, the Talmud notes that people in Jerusalem sometimes used gold to bind their lulavim (Sukkah 11b). Velcro may not be as flashy, but it definitely wins points for convenience.
That said, some later halachic authorities warn that if extra materials are loosely attached, they might form a chatzitzah (interposition), meaning something that comes between the worshipper’s hand and the lulav. That’s why many communities stick to palm leaves – they’re safe, symbolic, and won’t unravel mid-Hallel (Shulchan Aruch HaRav, Orach Chaim 651:3–5).
Why Bundle at All?
Beyond the practical matter of keeping three leafy species from slipping out of your hand, there’s symbolic weight to the bundle. Binding the three species together represents unity – different types of Jews, different qualities, all held together in one mitzvah.
But halachically, as the Gemara in Sukkah 33a makes clear, the debate was about obligation versus beautification. The halacha follows the majority: binding is recommended, not required. The Shulchan Aruch codifies that if you pick up the four species individually, you still fulfill the mitzvah (Orach Chaim 651:1, 12).
So if the rings snap off right before morning prayers, don’t panic – you’re still covered.
The Lonely Etrog
If the other three species are bundled, why not tuck the etrog into the same leafy package? Wouldn’t that save some juggling?
Here too, the Gemara weighs in. In Sukkah 34b, Rabbi Eliezer points out that the Torah doesn’t say, “the fruit of a goodly tree and branches of palm trees.” Instead, it lists them separately: “the fruit of a goodly tree, branches of palm trees, boughs of thick trees, and willows of the brook” (Leviticus 23:40). That little missing and is taken to mean: bundle the three together, but keep the etrog separate.
Practicality reinforces the point: ever tried tying a lemon-sized fruit to a palm frond? It’s not exactly ergonomic. The etrog gets its own hand, and the lulav bundle gets the other. It’s a design choice straight from Sinai.
Knots, Customs, and Patriarchs
If tying is optional, why do so many people carefully bind their lulav with multiple rings? Enter minhag (custom).
The Mordechai (Moed 749) quotes the Raavan, who notes a custom of tying three knots on the lulav to symbolize the three patriarchs – Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. This practice was picked up by the Rama (Orach Chaim 651:1). The Taz, a later commentator, points out that this is only a custom, not a binding (pun intended) law, and even then, the leaves should be able to rustle. After all, the mitzvah is called lulav na’anuim – shaking the lulav – not lulav straitjacket.
Different communities add their own flair. Some Moroccan and Chabad traditions skip the koishele entirely and just tie strips of lulav into rings. Others weave elaborate holders as an art form. The diversity itself speaks to the creative side of halacha – law structured enough to unify, flexible enough to allow personalization.
From Ikea to Improv
Putting all of this together, the bundle has three overlapping layers of meaning:
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Practical: Holding three species at once without a leafy explosion.
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Halachic: A debated requirement, but generally considered a beautification rather than an obligation.
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Symbolic: Unity of the Jewish people, the patriarchs, and beautification of the mitzvah.
And then, there’s the human side: some prefer the tried-and-true woven holders, others improvise with string or velcro. Some communities weave artistic patterns, while others favor minimalism. Each choice reflects the ongoing balance between halacha, aesthetics, and practicality.
A Ritual of Beauty
In the end, tying the lulav is one of those mitzvot where law and beauty intertwine. You don’t technically need a koishele, rings, or even knots. But most choose to bind, not because the law demands it, but because the act itself elevates the ritual.
That’s the essence of zeh Keli v’anveihu: not just doing the mitzvah, but doing it beautifully. Whether with palm rings, velcro straps, or in a pinch, a well-placed rubber band, the goal is the same – transforming leaves and fruit into a moment of glory.
So next time the bundle looks like it’s about to explode out of its holder, remember: the details matter, but the mitzvah doesn’t fall apart with the koishele. The real binding is the one that ties the person, the people, and the tradition together.