Introduction to Judaism - Sukkot

The Sukkah

What is it?

• A sukkah must have at least 2.5 walls. The walls of the sukkah can be made out of anything: canvas, wood, bricks, even metal or stone. They must be at least 38 inches high, but not higher than 30 feet.
• The sukkah must be big enouch that a person can fit inside of it (or at least a person's head!)
• The sukkah must have an entrance that can be opened.
• Certain rules about the roof of a sukkah (schach):
  • it must be made out of something which grew from the ground.
  • the material it is made from must no longer be connected to the ground (i.e., not an arbor)
  • the schach must provide more shade than sun, BUT:
  • it must be possible to see at least three stars in the night sky through the sukkah roof.

Isaac Aboab

The Sukkah is designed to warn us that a person is not to put their trust in the size or strength or beauty of their home, though it be filled with all precious things.

Rabbi David Teutsch

Sukkot is at once a rejoicing in the bounty of the harvest, z’man simchateynu [time of our rejoicing], and a reawakening to our fragility in the face of the awesome power of nature. Each year I am moved again by the power of this juxtaposition. In much of America, Sukkot comes just as the evening chill of autumn is taking hold. We are aware of the shortening days and the coming of winter. We decorate our sukkot with gourds and fruit, brightening these temporary huts as if to fortify them enough that we can pretend that they—and we—are strong enough to have nothing to worry about. But the stars shine in, and the wind blows through. More than a few sukkot are knocked over by its gusts. The forces of nature highlight our frailty.

So too it is in our daily lives. We have established routines and relationships. We are surrounded by an abundance of material goods that we largely take for granted. We live with a bounty unimaginable even a few generations ago. And yet the routines in our lives can be overturned in a moment by the diagnosis of disease, by dismissal from a job, by a family tragedy or an exploded relationship. Jewish tradition teaches that one of the things we should recall when we give tzedakah is that we can go from giver to receiver with a single turning of the wheel.

The Four Species

One of the special components of Sukkot is the Four Species, Arba Minim, aka lulav and etrog.

The four species are:

1. Lulav - Palm branch

2. Hadas - Myrtle branches

3. Aravot - Willow branches

4. Etrog - Citron

The Four Species are held together and waved or shaken on each day of Sukkot.

Rabbi Alan Lucas

In some ways, the mitzvah of the lulav and etrog presents a bit of a challenge to moderns accustomed to rituals that are transparent in their meaning and easily decipherable. Still, one of the dangers in contemporary Judaism is precisely that we have become overly cerebral in our approach to religion. After the intense High Holiday period of prayer and introspective thought, Sukkot appeals to our senses. We build the sukkah with our hands, and we smell the four species and shake them back and forth as a sign of our exuberant sense of thanksgiving to God for all that we have in this world. Judaism makes demands both on the intellect and the spirit, both on the brain and on the heart, and Sukkot is a vibrant reminder of this lesson.

Ushpizin

Traditional Ushpizin for the First Night

“I invite to my meal the exalted guests, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob,, Moses, Aaron, Joseph and David. May it please you, Abraham, my exalted guest, that all the other exalted guests dwell with me and with you – Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, , Joseph and David.”

Kohelet - Ecclesiastes

Kravitz and Olitzky, Kohelet: A Modern Commentary on Ecclesiastes

The writer asks that if there are set times in which things occur, what is the point of human effort? If what is going to happen will happen, why bother trying to make things happen at all?

Rabbi Audrey Korotkin

Ecclesiastes allows us to connect with Israel on Sukkot in a visceral way. The emotional uncertainly remains, reinforced now by the uncontrollable physical power of nature. It puts us in our cosmic place, lest we be too complacent about the relative comfort and safety that we enjoy. "A lover of money never has his fill of money, nor a lover of wealth his fill of income. That too is futile," teaches the author. "A worker's sleep is sweet, whether he has much or little to eat; but the rich man's abundance doesn't let him sleep" (Ecclesiates 5:9, 11). Ecclesiastes, with its theological challenges, thus seems a perfect fit for Sukkot and its mitzvot of physical challenges....

Kohelet finds no answer for life's absurdity; the best he can do is recommend accommodations to it: "Just as you do not know how the lifebreath passes into the limbs within the womb of the pregnant woman, so you cannot foresee the actions of God, who causes all things to happen. Sow your seed in the morning, and don't hold back your hand in the evening, since you don't know which is going to succeed" (Ecclesiastes 11:5-6).

Midrash Ecclesiastes Rabbah takes this to mean that we should make the most of every day, right to the end. The Rabbis give the examples of pursuing work, marriage, family, and the study of Torah, late in life as well as in youth – but we can apply the same principle to any pursuit. Live life to the fullest, they say, as though today might be your last and "sun and light and moon and stars grow dark" (Ecclesiastes 12:2).

Rather than a message of futility, this reads as a message of hope: Even if we cannot make sense of life in some grand cosmic sense, we can find purpose and satisfaction in the tasks of daily life. We can create, and we can share; we can heal, and we can love. Maybe it's not all that we would like, for as long as we would like. But God provides us with "a time for every experience under heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3:1).