Sermons & Stories

I love the creativity of our people. It states clearly in the Torah (Lev 23:43) that God made us live in sukkot when we came out of Egypt. And yet in both Midrash and the Talmud, our Rabbis debate what this means. One goes with the obvious – that the Israelites built actual booths. Another offers a different take – that the sukkot were metaphorical booths. Instead physical structures, these booths were God’s presence as “clouds of glory” that protected us from harm.

I know it sounds far fetched, but please don’t dismiss the “clouds of glory” opinion out of hand. Throughout the Torah, the Israelites dwell in tents – ohelim, rather than in booths – sukkot. Along these lines, have you ever noticed that while the Israelites complain about lots of things, they never complain about the weather. Perhaps the “clouds of glory” protected them from extreme heat or cold, rain or snow.

When we read Torah, there’s usually a deeper level and there’s a deeper level here. This is about much more than booths or no booths. For the view advocating actual booths – this is about fragility. A sukkah is temporary. If there’s a strong windstorm, a sukkah can end up in the neighbor’s yard – not that my family would know that from experience or anything. Seriously - we were really glad that it didn’t end up in their pool. Coming back to the idea of the sukkah as fragility – there were many moments of difficulty for the Israelites in the wilderness – not enough water, concerns about food, war.

The “clouds of glory” perspective is more about faith. God provides. God kept us safe, provided manna every day, didn’t let our sandals or our clothing wear out in all our wanderings. God took us from slavery and we made it to the Promised Land. Have faith. Despite all the hardships, we are cared for and loved and protected.

These two ideas express an interesting sense of balance in Jewish life. Life is fragile. Trust in God. These ideas are awkwardly mashed together in Kohelet, which is also known as Ecclesiastes. The megillah Kohelet, the brief Biblical scroll read on Sukkot, stresses that all is hevel, which is often translated that all is futile. It is filled with life’s fragility – nothing lasts, nothing endures… wisdom, wealth – it is all a pursuit of the wind. It’s not a touchy-feely kind of book. Yet at the close of the book, what’s the message? “Revere God and observe God’s commandments! For this applies to all humankind,” (Ecc 12:13).

While it ends with a notion of faith, Kohelet is out of balance. It’s almost all fragility with very little faith. Our problem today is that we’re a lot like Kolehet – lots of fragility – lots of problems and not a lot of trust. The number of people trusting in God seems to be declining and the number of people trusting in other people also seems to be declining. And when depending on the poll, only about a third of Americans feel that the country’s headed in the right direction right now, it’s a major issue.

When faced with such challenges, we need to find a way to cope and we have a few options. Some people are going to pick one or two issues that they feel passionately about and take constructive action or make their voice heard. There are lots of ways to be good advocates and it’s a great way to do something constructive when we see problems that need addressing.

Others can find themselves overwhelmed by all the problems and all the difficulties. If it’s all too much, to the extent that you are able, take a brief break from the challenges of the world and take a moment for Sukkot. Sukkot is about appreciating now – the fall, the harvest, the connection with nature and our world. Doing Sukkot allows us to find a bit of joy and a bit of balance.

Another possibility is the understanding that before we can focus on everything else, we have to focus on ourselves. Many ways to do this… A great place to begin is with a good list of questions in Rabbi Joseph Telushkin’s Code of Jewish Ethics, which includes:

Am I prone to anger? When I am angry, do I overreact and say or do things that inflict pain on others?

Do I judge others fairly or am I harshly critical?

Do I jump to conclusions and blame other people before I know all the facts?

Do I take other people’s kind behavior for granted, or do I go out of my way to express thanks?

Am I able to control my impulses, or do I give in to temptation easily?

Just because we’re done with Yom Kippur doesn’t mean all our work is completed. How else are we going to do better unless we try to do better. And there are many more questions we can ask, just as there are many more ways to cope with the sense of fragility and the lack of trust we’re experiencing in our world today. My hope is that we can each find our way to navigate these times and ultimately work together to find practical solutions to improve all our lives.

Chag Sameach and Shabbat Shalom!