Sukkot, 5773
Chag Sameach! No sooner than scrutinizing our internal architecture during the Days of Awe, do we almost suddenly encounter our external architecture as we build and even dwell in a sukkah (plural, sukkot), these tiny huts we erect as a way of commemorating the Israelites’ forty-year journey through the wilderness, and the time of harvesting. Yom Kippur is deeply introspective while Sukkot beckons us to reach outward to embrace our world. It’s also a time of giving thanks to God for the wonderful bounty that is ours as we extend our hospitable selves to our ushpizin, our guests. Againk
Some may even view Sukkot as a relief from the important inner work we’ve all been engaged in of harvesting our own souls, taking stock of who we are, looking at some of those rough spots and figuring out what to do about them. We should be feeling refreshed, cleaner perhaps, and ready to roll up our sleeves as we bask in the changing colors of the leaves, and the breezes of autumn. This is simply a wonderful time of optimism and hope. This is a fun holiday to experience.
However, there is a darker side to this holiday as well because the impermanence of these huts reminds us of the fragility of our lives, of all life. It’s not just our sukkot that are impermanent. The truth is nothing is very permanent-- we know this--but the fragility of our basic foundations, things we have assumed we can count on in our lives seem to be faltering in ways that no one should ignore, whether it’s our environment, health care, our economy or the increasingly precarious neighborhood Israel finds herself in. Yet, this is also a time of amazing creativity and innovation. Regardless of your political stripe, Americans are focused on problem- solving and nation-building here on our own shores, looking at ways to fix our educational system, repair our infrastructure, and research renewable energy. College graduates are lining up to join Teach for America. We continue to reach out to help others. Many again are beginning to believe that America is not a paradise lost but a paradise possible.
And, it is during these critical moments of despair intersecting with hope that Sukkot comes along just at the right time conveying a sense of optimism and security, telling us that though our structures are impermanent, though our lives may be fragile, and our world may feel precarious, our sukkot are still here to remind us that we are protected from the harshness around us, much as these tiny booths protected the Israelites from the hot sun as they harvested. We seek safety in this world. We want to be covered and protected whether by God’s cloud cover, the original covering, Chuppat Shamayim, or by the additional protection provided us, however great or small our dwellings.
On Sukkot, as we wave our lulavs (lulavim) and etrogs (etrogim), we traditionally plead to God for redemption: Hosha Na! Save us! Help Us! Redeem Us! Rescue Us!
But, I think we have evolved spiritually enough to understand that our redemption is not to be based upon the hope and prayer of a parting sea or manna being rained down from the heavens on us for sustenance. Though we call out for redemption by God, we really don’t expect divine intervention. Instead, we understand that the way God works in this world is through us. The power of tikkun olam, repairing the world, derives from our assumption of responsibility for shaping and reshaping our world by actualizing and activating God’s presence through our behavior, whether it consists of signing up for Teach for America, working to fix our roads, inventing a renewable source of energy, or advocating for causes we believe in. We call forth God’s protection, not simply by calling out for it but through our own action. This is how we bring God’s presence and protection into the earthly realm, this is how we actualize the holy sparks of creation, this is how we earn the joy this holiday is capable of conveying. And, then, and only then will we be truly worthy of saying, Ufros aleinu sukkat sh’lomecha, O God, spread over us the shelter of Your peace.”
Keyn Yehi Ratzon. So may it be God’s will. Amen.
Chag Sameach!
Warmly,
Rabbi Debra Nesselson
Sukkot, 5773
Some may even view Sukkot as a relief from the important inner work we’ve all been engaged in of harvesting our own souls, taking stock of who we are, looking at some of those rough spots and figuring out what to do about them. We should be feeling refreshed, cleaner perhaps, and ready to roll up our sleeves as we bask in the changing colors of the leaves, and the breezes of autumn. This is simply a wonderful time of optimism and hope. This is a fun holiday to experience.
However, there is a darker side to this holiday as well because the impermanence of these huts reminds us of the fragility of our lives, of all life. It’s not just our sukkot that are impermanent. The truth is nothing is very permanent-- we know this--but the fragility of our basic foundations, things we have assumed we can count on in our lives seem to be faltering in ways that no one should ignore, whether it’s our environment, health care, our economy or the increasingly precarious neighborhood Israel finds herself in. Yet, this is also a time of amazing creativity and innovation. Regardless of your political stripe, Americans are focused on problem- solving and nation-building here on our own shores, looking at ways to fix our educational system, repair our infrastructure, and research renewable energy. College graduates are lining up to join Teach for America. We continue to reach out to help others. Many again are beginning to believe that America is not a paradise lost but a paradise possible.
And, it is during these critical moments of despair intersecting with hope that Sukkot comes along just at the right time conveying a sense of optimism and security, telling us that though our structures are impermanent, though our lives may be fragile, and our world may feel precarious, our sukkot are still here to remind us that we are protected from the harshness around us, much as these tiny booths protected the Israelites from the hot sun as they harvested. We seek safety in this world. We want to be covered and protected whether by God’s cloud cover, the original covering, Chuppat Shamayim, or by the additional protection provided us, however great or small our dwellings.
On Sukkot, as we wave our lulavs (lulavim) and etrogs (etrogim), we traditionally plead to God for redemption: Hosha Na! Save us! Help Us! Redeem Us! Rescue Us!
But, I think we have evolved spiritually enough to understand that our redemption is not to be based upon the hope and prayer of a parting sea or manna being rained down from the heavens on us for sustenance. Though we call out for redemption by God, we really don’t expect divine intervention. Instead, we understand that the way God works in this world is through us. The power of tikkun olam, repairing the world, derives from our assumption of responsibility for shaping and reshaping our world by actualizing and activating God’s presence through our behavior, whether it consists of signing up for Teach for America, working to fix our roads, inventing a renewable source of energy, or advocating for causes we believe in. We call forth God’s protection, not simply by calling out for it but through our own action. This is how we bring God’s presence and protection into the earthly realm, this is how we actualize the holy sparks of creation, this is how we earn the joy this holiday is capable of conveying. And, then, and only then will we be truly worthy of saying, Ufros aleinu sukkat sh’lomecha, O God, spread over us the shelter of Your peace.”
Keyn Yehi Ratzon. So may it be God’s will. Amen.
Chag Sameach!
Warmly,
Rabbi Debra Nesselson
Sukkot, 5773
