* Translation by Yehoshua Siskin (http://inthelandoftheJews.blogspot.com)
A mother from New York once told me that when she came to Israel with her children and they visited the Machane Yehuda market in Jerusalem, they saw a watermelon and asked what it was. They were used to getting it already cut up in pieces, without the rind, because that's how it was sold where they lived. It is possible to foresee that this will soon be the case here as well. The world becomes more convenient, more technological, more hygienic, more "already peeled" every day.
In this context, the celebration of Sukkot becomes a revolutionary act. To observe this holiday, we must keep the mitzvot of entering the sukkah and grasping the four species in our hands. We cannot perform these mitzvot through an app on our cell phones, but must be active participants. The fragrance of the etrog and the hadas cannot be experienced remotely on Zoom. We cannot virtually check to see if the light streaming through the s'chach results in more sun than shade below. In this regard, our Sukkot experience is highly subversive. After all, it provides many of us with our only encounter each year with the grass, the sun, the moon, and the ants.
One of the famous questions Rebbe Nachman from Breslov would ask his hasidim when they were preoccupied with business affairs was the following: *"Have you looked up at heaven today?"* Our answer on Sukkot is yes. The festival of Sukkot is one week out of the year in which we have no choice.
We must stop looking down at a screen and look up instead -- at the branches, the leafy green, and the heavens peeking through.
And in the timeless words of the late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, there is an even deeper aspect to the role of the Sukkah:
"The Power of Sukkot is that it takes us back to the most elemental roots of our being. You don’t need to live in a palace to be surrounded by Clouds of Glory. You don’t need to be rich to buy yourself the same leaves and fruit that a billionaire uses in worshiping God. Living in the sukkah and inviting guests to your meal, you discover – such is the premise of Ushpizin, the mystical guests – that the people who have come to visit you are none other than Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov and their wives.
"What makes a hut more beautiful than a home is that when it comes to Sukkot, there is no difference between the richest of the rich and the poorest of the poor. We are all strangers on earth, temporary residents in God’s almost eternal universe. And whether or not we are capable of pleasure, whether or not we have found happiness, we can all feel joy.
"Judaism is no comforting illusion that all is well in this dark world. It is instead the courage to celebrate in the midst of uncertainty, and to rejoice even in the transitory shelter of the sukkah, the Jewish symbol of home."