Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
Every one of our holidays, notes Rav Reiss, is invested with a specific characteristic that is meant to energize us for the entire year. While Pesach, for example, is characterized by freedom, Sukkos is characterized as Zman Simchateinu/the Season of our Joy. In fact, the Torah itself connects simchah to Sukkos multiple times, in contrast to only once in connection with our other holidays. How can we understand joy and its essence?
We can easily understand how joyful we must feel on the heels of Yom Kippur, believing that our sins have been forgiven, but how can we access that joy this year when we are still immersed in the trauma of last Simchat Torah?
We will begin with a medrash from the Gemarra that enigmatically highlights the difference between the nations of the world and Bnei Yisroel. The nations argued with Hashem that they had not been given a proper opportunity to accept the Torah. Hashem accepted their argument and offered them an easy mitzvah to fulfill that would test their sincerity. Hashem gave them the mitzvah of Sukkah. Immediately, all the goyim went to their rooftops and built sukkot. Hashem then brought out the full heat of the summer sun. Facing this challenge, the gentiles not only abandoned the sukkot, but kicked them as they left.
The Maharal offers a beautiful insight into simcha from the incident when Moshe Rabbenu hit the rock instead of talking to it to spew forth water. Rashi notes that this was a result of anger, and anger is a sign of flawed faith and belief. When one loses faith, one cannot be happy. So how can we raise the level of our faith both internally and externally to experience the full joy of Sukkos?
In the laws for a kosher sukkah we are commanded that the schach, the plant sourced roof, must be dense enough so that there is more shade than sunlight. Further, the walls of the sukkah may not be higher than twenty amos [approximately thirty feet]. Both of these details offer insight into the role of emunah and bitachon in our psyche.
As Rabbi Mandelbaum explains in Vesamachta Bechagecha, the sun represents the predictable world of nature, a world we see clearly and understand. On the other hand, shade represents the hidden world of the unknown and miraculous that Hashem totally controls. But we know that even the world of nature is totally in Hashem’s control. We understand that the only place we can rest comfortably is in Hashem’s shadow, in Hashem’s protection, בצל שקי יתלונן (Tehillim 91:1). We know that everything, even the world of nature, is totally governed by Hashem’s will.
That is the difference between the nations of the world and Bnei Yisroel, a difference that originates with Noach himself. Although the Torah validates Noach as “a righteous man in his generation,” our Sages depict him as a man of lesser faith. As proof, they cite the beginning of the flood. Hashem told Noach that the flood was coming—Noach even felt the rain. Yet, he did not enter the ark until the storm was so powerful he was forced into the ark for safety. Until then, Noach was relying on nature rather than on God’s word, and on his his knowledge that storms usually pass after a limited time.
This is in contrast to Avraham Avinu who, although he did not understand how he would father a son at his and Sarah’s advanced age, he still had faith in Hashem’s promise. Avraham’s question to Hashem was not, “I don’t believe I will beget a righteous child who will inherit from me;” His question was, “How will this happen? [It is not natural.]” To that question, Hashem took Avraham outside, above the stars, and showed him how his descendants would survive throughout the generations, for, like the stars that are not ruled by nature but directly through Hashem, so would Bnei Yisroel, Avraham’s descendants, not be ruled by the laws of nature, but would exist like the stars, above nature, directly at Hashem’s will.
The sukkah represents the supernatural. Only Jews can sit contentedly in the sukkah with complete dependence on Hashem. But the nations were stuck in the world of nature. When Hashem brought out the hot sun, representing the natural world, they couldn’t accept a reality beyond the sun. They left the sukkah, feeling they could be successful with the sun, with nature. They had no need for Hashem. They kicked it aside. [Faith would have meant at least approaching Hashem again and asking Him to make the mitzvah more bearable by diminishing the sun’s heat. Their request had brought the opportunity; a second request could have made observance possible. CKS]
Last year, the first day of Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbat. As a result, according to halachah, the shofar was not blown. The Gemarra discusses the portent of not not blowing the shofar. Rabbi Yitzchak contends that it signifies disaster for the coming year, as the Satan “was not confused.” Others say as long as we accept the “Sovereignty of Heaven”, we have fulfilled the obligation of hearing the shofar. [Aish.com] Last year, when the shofar was not blown, was a year of intense tragedy. But we must not forget that within that tragedy, Hashem performed overt miracles for us. In the constant barrage of missiles, no one was killed; a terrorist goes into a packed shul, but his bomb doesn’t detonate until he goes outside, and then the bomb explodes, killing him; targeted cellphones, beepers and pagers — who can count the love Hashem showed us this past, traumatic year? We need to feel His embrace. Let us hold on to the emotions of “In the shadow of Your wings he shall dwell.” The minimal walls of a kosher sukkah, two walls plus half a wall, suggest that hug notes the Ari z”l.
This symbolism of protection is validated by the spiritual explanation for moving into these sukkot. While the simple, physical reason for Sukkot is that we lived in temporary shelters during our forty years’ sojourn in the desert, our Sages also offer that our greater protection came from the Clouds of Glory that surrounded our camp and signified Hashem’s presence. The sukkah that surrounds us represents those Clouds of Glory. While one could ague that we should commemorate this protection on Pesach when the clouds first appeared, Rabbi Eliyahu Kitov presents us with the explanation of our Sages.
The Gra z”tl explains that when Bnei Yisroel sinned with the golden calf, except for the cloud that served as their guide, all the other clouds of glory left. While Hashem forgave Bnei Yisroel on Yom Kippur, His presence, signified by the Clouds of Glory, did not return until Bnei Yisroel began building the Mishkan/Tabernacle, the symbolic “House” for God’s presence. That was five days later, the day we celebrate as Sukkot. When the clouds returned, we understood that Hashem had truly forgiven us and that He would always protect us. So our celebration of Sukkot not only commemorates the past, but also anticipates a joyous, protected future. Our simchah comes from that sense of security in Hashem’s presence. And it also represents a mini Mishkan.
All year long we live in homes that generate a sense of security. Our faith in Hashem acts more like an insurance policy, “just in case.” By moving out of our homes on Sukkot, we are testifying that Hashem is our true protection, that we can rely only on Him. When our homes are destroyed, only those who can still see their loving Father beside them can still maintain some inner tranquility. We are a helpless child, but we are in Hashem’s hands. The source of our joy on Sukkot is that very faith.
That idea segues very nicely into the second requirement of a kosher sukkah that we mentioned earlier. A sukkah may be no more than twenty amos high. If we are signifying Hashem as our Protector, we must “dwell in the shade of the Almighty.” As Rabbi Bernstein quoting the Aruch L’ner says, while the walls bear witness to our own hishtadlus/human effort, our true shade and security must come from Hashem. If the walls of a sukkah are so high, the shade within comes from the walls, not from Hashem. We may build walls or other means of salvation, but we have to trust that Hashem will choose how He will help us, whether through the means of our effort or through a completely different method of His own choosing.
Rabbi Bernstein emphasizes this point through Yosef Hatzadik. Yosef put in his effort by asking the Chief Butler to remember him to Pharaoh after he would be released. Instead of freedom, Yosef was punished with two additional years in prison. What was Yosef’s error? That he believed this was his only path to freedom, that he relied on this human effort as a means of salvation, excluding the possibility that Hashem had other means of salvation at His disposal. As Rav Biderman adds, we should look up to the schach, the symbol of Hashem’s Hashgachah, not at the walls, the symbols of the physical, man made world.
Who is the person who can rely completely on Hashem? Only one who is completely humble, writes Rav Reiss in Paamei Moed, one who realizes that he has no control over anything. When the gentiles built their sukkot on the rooftops, they were building the sukkot high up, asserting their dominion. Hashem brought the sun, challenging them. They would not accept or submit to a higher authority. Their ego was in sharp contrast to the message of the sukkah.
The word סוכה /sukkah is related to סכוי /vision, adds Rabbi Bernstein. The goal of Sukkos is to enable us to see things in the proper perspective.
Our sukkah is an expansion of reality so that it is a large enough vessel to contain the many blessings Hashem wants to rain down on us, writes the Tallelei Chaim. When we enter the sukkah, we enter a different dimension, a dimension of Gan Eden, where the primal light illuminated everything. The sukkah is a holy place whose sanctity should not be defiled with impure talks and activities. It is so pure that heavenly guests, the Ushpizin, the souls of the seven traditional shepherds of our nation, are comfortable entering. What is the joy we experience? It is the pleasure of basking in Hashem’s presence, of dwelling in a recreation of Gan Eden. We need to tap into this Godly experience throughout the coming year.
It is up to us to open our eyes to see beyond the external. We need to focus on the internal, the spiritual. If all we can see is the external, continues the Tallelei Chaim, we become victims of depression. When we can see more profoundly, we open our hearts to simchah.
Rabbi Leib Kelemen presents a simple exercise that helps us appreciate that Hashem controls the world. He suggests that you ask yourself if you would want to take control out of Hashem’s hand long enough to bring us the solution to our particular request—a shidduch, a baby, a better school, a better job… Undoubtedly, the answer in No, for only Hashem knows what is truly good for me, even If I cannot see that good.
It is this mindset of complete submission to Hashem, knowing that He loves us and does everything for our benefit, that brings true joy. It is this mindset that we must take into the sukkah with us and that we should carry out of the sukkah with us to strengthen us for the entire year. May it be a year of true brachah and shalom.