The wonderful holiday of Succot passed from us this past week but I am still under its profound influence. I was struck by the obvious fact that the Jewish people are living and have lived in a succah, not just for the past seven days, but for the past thirty-three centuries. A succah is a very flimsy structure no matter how strongly it be built. For, by halachic definition, it is open to storms and winds over which it has no control. The sun may beat on it and make it uncomfortably hot or it may be freezing cold with snow on top of its tree-branch covering. No matter how beautifully we may decorate the succah, it still remains a place of uncertain security and limited protection. Therefore, it is easily understood how and why the Jewish people treasure their succah, for it represents the reality of Jewish existence over our long, glorious, dangerous and precarious historical story. Jews, at least Jews that did not wish to be seduced by the Sirens of assimilation and secularism, were always aware that we lived in a succah and that it was, in fact, our permanent residence and not merely a seven day outing.
The Talmud explains to us that the succah symbolized two messages. One is the historic message that life - especially Jewish life - is uncertain, dangerous and many times completely irrational. This is a message that we moderns find it difficult to face up to. We aspire for a predictable, normal, rational, let's talk-it-over-and-have-a-few-beers-together-afterwards world. When things don't turn out that way, we begin a frustrating search for "root causes" and "underlying tensions" to explain away the evil and irrationality that confronts us. Such searches, over time, have invariably proven fruitless in combating the evil of sinful hatred that lies at the true heart of malevolent cruelty. The Jews early on learned this first lesson of succah dwelling. Our ancestors lived in these flimsy huts of succot during their forty-year trek in the desert of Sinai. They lived in such succot even during their eight and a half centuries of sporadic and constantly threatened rule in the Land of Israel during First Temple times. The Jews lived in succot in the Babylonian Exile, as well as during the over four centuries of renewed Jewish sovereignty and autonomy in the Land of Israel during the Second Temple era. It goes without saying that the last two thousand years of Jewish exile and diaspora has seen us living in a very leaky succah, exposed to all sorts of brutal elements, natural and man-made. The last century and a half of the Jewish return to Zion has also allowed us only to create a succah for ourselves here in our homeland. The permanence of Temple and Redemption are still ahead of us. One of the secrets of the Jewish survival is that Jews until now never deluded themselves into thinking that they lived in mansions and fortresses. We always knew that we were merely succah-dwellers.
The second lesson that the Talmud imparted to us was that, no matter how flimsy and insecure our succah appeared, we were not living in it alone. There were "clouds of glory" - a heavenly purpose and discipline - that was our companion in the succah. These "clouds of glory" buttressed our spirit and gave us the strength to withstand all of the onslaughts against our succah. In the darkest hours and worst places of Jewish pain and anguish, the "clouds of glory" shone for us, comforted us and promised us a better tomorrow. As long as the "clouds of glory" were part of our family and communal structure, even the seemingly collapsing succah could be made beautiful, happy and purposeful.
Then there arose a generation of Jews who denied the "clouds of glory" and felt them to be a burdensome and irrelevant relic of the past. In the brave, new Jewish world, Jews would no longer dwell in a succah, but in sure fortresses, just like the rest of the world. Since we were about to leave the succah, the "clouds of glory" could also safely be jettisoned. So they were. Yet Jews found that it was not an easy matter to leave the succah. After more than fifty years of independence and accomplishment, the State of Israel is still but a succah. For a large section of its population, bereft of any concept of "clouds of glory," robbed of its heritage by well-meaning, but utterly wrong, parents and grandparents, wallowing in Jewish ignorance and terrorized by ideas of faith and observance, our current succah is a most insecure, uncomfortable and downright dangerous place.
By the way, the assimilated modern Jews have realized their dream of being just like any of the other nations of the world. For today, it is apparent to all that the whole world, the mighty and the weak, the great and the small, the prosperous and the impoverished, are all living only in a succah. Just as we have learned to live and flourish while residing in a succah, so too will the rest of civilization have to learn that lesson now. The key to that lesson is the realization that a succah is not really viable without the presence of "clouds of glory." Anyway, I think that this belated Succot message should last us all till next year.
Shabat Shalom.
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Rabbi Wein, noted author and lecturer, is founder of the Destiny Foundation, dedicated to educating Jews about their historical and ethical heritage (JewishDestiny.com ).
The Talmud explains to us that the succah symbolized two messages. One is the historic message that life - especially Jewish life - is uncertain, dangerous and many times completely irrational. This is a message that we moderns find it difficult to face up to. We aspire for a predictable, normal, rational, let's talk-it-over-and-have-a-few-beers-together-afterwards world. When things don't turn out that way, we begin a frustrating search for "root causes" and "underlying tensions" to explain away the evil and irrationality that confronts us. Such searches, over time, have invariably proven fruitless in combating the evil of sinful hatred that lies at the true heart of malevolent cruelty. The Jews early on learned this first lesson of succah dwelling. Our ancestors lived in these flimsy huts of succot during their forty-year trek in the desert of Sinai. They lived in such succot even during their eight and a half centuries of sporadic and constantly threatened rule in the Land of Israel during First Temple times. The Jews lived in succot in the Babylonian Exile, as well as during the over four centuries of renewed Jewish sovereignty and autonomy in the Land of Israel during the Second Temple era. It goes without saying that the last two thousand years of Jewish exile and diaspora has seen us living in a very leaky succah, exposed to all sorts of brutal elements, natural and man-made. The last century and a half of the Jewish return to Zion has also allowed us only to create a succah for ourselves here in our homeland. The permanence of Temple and Redemption are still ahead of us. One of the secrets of the Jewish survival is that Jews until now never deluded themselves into thinking that they lived in mansions and fortresses. We always knew that we were merely succah-dwellers.
The second lesson that the Talmud imparted to us was that, no matter how flimsy and insecure our succah appeared, we were not living in it alone. There were "clouds of glory" - a heavenly purpose and discipline - that was our companion in the succah. These "clouds of glory" buttressed our spirit and gave us the strength to withstand all of the onslaughts against our succah. In the darkest hours and worst places of Jewish pain and anguish, the "clouds of glory" shone for us, comforted us and promised us a better tomorrow. As long as the "clouds of glory" were part of our family and communal structure, even the seemingly collapsing succah could be made beautiful, happy and purposeful.
Then there arose a generation of Jews who denied the "clouds of glory" and felt them to be a burdensome and irrelevant relic of the past. In the brave, new Jewish world, Jews would no longer dwell in a succah, but in sure fortresses, just like the rest of the world. Since we were about to leave the succah, the "clouds of glory" could also safely be jettisoned. So they were. Yet Jews found that it was not an easy matter to leave the succah. After more than fifty years of independence and accomplishment, the State of Israel is still but a succah. For a large section of its population, bereft of any concept of "clouds of glory," robbed of its heritage by well-meaning, but utterly wrong, parents and grandparents, wallowing in Jewish ignorance and terrorized by ideas of faith and observance, our current succah is a most insecure, uncomfortable and downright dangerous place.
By the way, the assimilated modern Jews have realized their dream of being just like any of the other nations of the world. For today, it is apparent to all that the whole world, the mighty and the weak, the great and the small, the prosperous and the impoverished, are all living only in a succah. Just as we have learned to live and flourish while residing in a succah, so too will the rest of civilization have to learn that lesson now. The key to that lesson is the realization that a succah is not really viable without the presence of "clouds of glory." Anyway, I think that this belated Succot message should last us all till next year.
Shabat Shalom.
------------
Rabbi Wein, noted author and lecturer, is founder of the Destiny Foundation, dedicated to educating Jews about their historical and ethical heritage (JewishDestiny.com ).