I will build this world from love... yai dai dai
And you must build this world from love... yai dai dai
And if we build this world from love... yai dai dai
Then G-d will build this world from love... yai dai dai
Kol Ha'olam kulo The whole world
Gesher Tsar me'od is a very narrow bridge.
Veha'ikar - veha'ikar And the main thing to recall -
Lo lefached - is not to be afraid,
lo lefached klal. not to be afraid, at all.
(42) You shall live in booths seven days; all citizens in Israel shall live in booths, (43) in order that future generations may know that I made the Israelite people live in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt, I the LORD your God.
(13) After the ingathering from your threshing floor and your vat, you shall hold the Feast of Booths for seven days. (14) You shall rejoice in your festival, with your son and daughter, your male and female slave, the Levite, the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow in your communities. (15) You shall hold a festival for the LORD your God seven days, in the place that the LORD will choose; for the LORD your God will bless all your crops and all your undertakings, and you shall have nothing but joy.
All rabbinic discussion about the sukkah is based on the distinction between what is arai (temporary) and what is keva (permanent). The sukkah, by definition, must be arai – that is it cannot appear so sturdy that it might be confused with a permanent home. The rabbis of the Talmud argue about whether this constraint against the sukkah appearing permanent constitutes a limit on the height of the sukkah or on the materials that may be used to construct it (Sukkah 2a). In either case, the point is the same: the sukkah should be a structure in which someone can live for a week, but not in which he or she can live permanently. In contrast, a permanent house, we can assume, is noticeably sturdy, either because of its size or because of the materials used to construct it. Similarly, the requirement that the roof of the sukkah be permeable, combined with the explicit permission to return to your home if rain threatens to ruin your sukkah, implies that a permanent home is expected not to have holes in the roof and should fully shield a person from the elements. (p. 141)
1) "All the holidays and all their rituals are to be observed with joy, but there is a special joy, an extra measure of joy, connected to Sukkot. The Torah mentions this requirement three times in connect to Sukkot."
Lew goes on to explore why the sukkah brings us joy. He suggests different reasons:
2) "Perhaps this is because Sukkot is the holiday of the fall harvest ....
3) "Or perhaps this special joy we feel at Sukkot is cathartic joy, a joy in direct proportion to the anxiety of the High Holidays. ...
4) "So now we sit flush with the world, in a 'house' that calls attention to the fact that it gives us no shelter. It is not really a house. It is the interrupted idea of a house, a parody of a house. According to Jewish law, this booth we must dwell in for seven days needs only to have closed walls on two and a half sides, and we must be able to see the stars through the organic material - the leaves and branches - that constitute the roof. This is not a house; it is the bare outline of a house. It is like that architectural feature called the broken pediment, the notch in the roofline of the facade of a house which leaves the mind to complete the line, and thus implants the idea of a line in the mind even more forcefully than an unbroken line would. So it is that the sukkah, with its broken lines, its open roof, its walls that don't quite surround us, calls the idea of the house to mind more forcefully than a house itself might do.
5a) "And it exposes the idea of a house as an illusion. The idea of the house is that it gives us security, shelter, haven from the storm. But no house can really offer us this. No building of wood and stone can ever afford us protection from the disorder that is always lurking all around us. No shell we put between us and the world can ever really keep us secure from it. And we know this. We never really believed in this illusion. That's why we never felt truly secure in it.
5b) In the sukkah, a house that is open to the world, a house that freely acknowledges that it cannot be the basis of our security, we left go of this need. The illusion of protection falls away, and suddenly we are flush with our life, feeling our life, following our life, doing its dance, one step after another.
5c) And when we speak of joy here, we are not speaking of fun. Joy is a deep release of the should, and it includes death and pain. Joy is any feeling fully felt, any experience we give our whole being to. We are conditioned to choose pleasure and to reject plan, but the truth is, any moment of our life fully inhabited, any feeling fully felt, any immersion in the full depth of life, can be the source of deep joy.
6) [But] once a year, after several months of reconnection with the emptiness at the core [of form], we leave the formal world behind. We sit in a house that is only the idea of a house, a house that calls attention tot he illusory nature of all houses.
7) And there is joy in this, a joy born of the realization that nothing can protect us. Nothing can save us from death, so it's no use defending ourselves. We may as well give up, and there's a wonderful release in this giving up.
מי שעשה זה עני יכול לעשותו עשיר ומי שעשה לזה עשיר יכול לעשותו עני
Vayikra Rabbah Behar 34:4
The One who made this person poor can make him rich, and the One who made this one rich can make him poor.
As you think about your life, your home, your work -
1. What gives you a sense of security?
2. What would it take to make you feel vulnerable?
And as we think about the themes and lessons of Sukkot -
3. What do we do with feelings of impermanence and vulnerability?
4. What can we do if we challenge assumptions, false narratives, and break through these illusions of stability and security?