Several days ago, the Israeli government signed an agreement, brokered by the United States, for the return of our hostages tomorrow and, we hope, for the eventual easing of the conflicts. It is a moment that fills our hearts with hope, yet it also reminds us of the fragility of peace.
We must hope that the other side will honor its commitments. This is not full shleimut - the complete, perfect peace that will only come with the arrival of the Mashiach. Yet even this partial, temporary measure has meaning and value. It protects and allows us to rebuild, even if only a little.
A sukkah does not need to be perfect to fulfill the mitzvah. Even if parts are missing, it can still provide protection. Halakha teaches that small gaps in the walls - if less than three tefachim - are considered closed (lavud). A wall can also be “extended upward” in our imagination (gud asik), and even a partial wall can count as one of the three required walls (shlishis afilu tefach - a third wall, even one handbreadth). Even an incomplete sukkah can protect and support us. Its holiness and effectiveness do not depend on perfection.
When we say, “Ufros aleinu sukkat shlomecha” - “Spread over us the sukkah of Your peace” - we ask for the same kind of protection. Of course, we yearn for complete and lasting shalom. But even a small measure of peace - partial, fragile, or uncertain - is a gift. Just as a sukkah guards us despite its open walls, so too even a fragile or partial peace shields us from greater dangers and gives hope for better days.
The halakhic details of the sukkah teach profound lessons. Lavud reminds us that even small openings of hope count - that even partial progress is real. Gud asik teaches us to trust in Hashem’s unseen care - that protection exists even when we cannot see it. Shlishis afilu tefach shows that even incomplete structures have meaning; even a partial measure of safety or peace is significant and valuable. These lessons speak directly to our lives.
This idea appears in Hallel:
“Ze ha-yom asah Hashem, nagilah v’nismechah bo. Hoshia na Hashem, hoshia na” -
“This is the day Hashem has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Please, Hashem, save us! Please, Hashem, save us!”
Even when salvation is not yet complete, we can rejoice in what we have already received. David HaMelech rejoiced in personal deliverance from danger, even as he prayed for ultimate redemption. We, too, can celebrate small victories while still yearning for more.
When we cry “Hoshia na,” we ask for the ultimate geulah - the final redemption. Other terms, like hatzalah, describe temporary relief or reprieve. Every step toward redemption, every moment of calm amid danger, is a gift from Hashem and deserves gratitude. Even if it is partial or fragile, it is a sign of His care.
This past Shabbat Chol HaMoed Sukkot, we read in Kohelet:
“Et le’ehov ve’et lisno, et milchama ve’et shalom” -
“A time to love and a time to hate, a time of war and a time of peace.”
The wording is important. It does not say “Et lilchom ve’et leshalom” - “a time to fight and a time to make peace,” which would suggest separate periods. Instead, it uses the nouns milchama (war) and shalom (peace), showing that sometimes war and peace coexist. Danger and calm can coexist; struggle and hope can both be present. Life requires emunah (trust in Hashem), tefilla (prayer), and maasim tovim (good deeds).
A person once came to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, troubled and uncertain. “Rebbe,” he said, “I want peace and security, but I feel weak and uncertain.”
The Rebbe looked at him kindly and said, “Do you see the sukkah? Its walls are open, its roof is thin. Yet we sit there, and the Shechinah rests within it.
Look at the walls: even gaps are considered closed (lavud), and even partial walls count (shlishis afilu tefach - a third wall, even one handbreadth). The roof may not be perfect, but the protection is real. The sukkah teaches us that Hashem’s presence does not wait for perfection. Even a fragile hut contains holiness. And even what seems incomplete is meaningful (gud asik - extend your imagination upward).”
He continued, “So it is with peace in the world and in your life. Even if it is incomplete, even if it is fragile, it is still a gift. Notice the openings, the small moments of relief. They are part of Hashem’s care, a taste of the greater shalom to come.”
The person left strengthened, understanding that even partial peace is precious and sacred.
Now, as the Israeli government has signed an agreement for the hostages’ return, we live in a time of hope and concern. We cry out to Hashem with all our hearts, but until we see them home safely, we cannot be certain. Just as we sit in a sukkah, where the walls are weak and the wind blows through, we are called to emunah, tefilla, and maasim tovim - trust, prayer, and good deeds - even amid uncertainty. This teaches us to notice openings of hope (lavud), to rely on unseen protection (gud asik), and to value even partial progress (shlishis afilu tefach).
Kohelet begins:
“Hevel havalim, hakol hevel” - “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.”
Only what is spiritual, what connects us to Hashem, truly endures. The sukkah teaches the same lesson. For one week, we leave our strong homes for a fragile hut. The walls shake, the roof leaks - yet we feel calm. True protection is not in walls or armies, but in emunah, tefilla, and maasim tovim - trust, prayer, and good deeds - which guard the Jewish people under Hashem’s care.
Tonight, Hoshana Rabba, we should Daven and cry out for our people:
Acheinu B’nei Yisrael:
Acheinu b’nei Yisrael, hanesunim b’tzara u’b’shivya.
Ha’omdim bein hayam u’bein hayabasha.
Hamakom yerachem aleihem
v’yotzi’em mi’tzara li’rvacha,
u’mei’afela l’ora,
u’mishi’bud li’ge’ula.
Ha’sheta b’agala u’bizman kariv.
V’no’amer: Amen.
Translation:
“Our brothers, the children of Israel, who are captives and in distress.
Those standing between the sea and the dry land.
May Hamakom (Hashem) have compassion on them
and bring them out from trouble into ease,
from darkness into light,
from subjugation to redemption.
Speedily and in our time.
And let us say: Amen.”
Kohelet reminds us:
“Sof davar hakol nishma - et HaElokim yira ve’et mitzvotav shmor - ki zeh kol ha’adam” -
“The end of the matter, everything has been heard: fear Hashem and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.”
The sukkah may be fragile, life may be uncertain, and peace may be incomplete - but emunah, tefilla, and maasim tovim endure. They guide our hearts and our deeds, step by step, until we see our loved ones return home safely, and ultimately, until the Mashiach comes to bring complete and everlasting shalom.
Rabbi Eliezer Simcha Weiszis a member of the Chief Rabbinate Council.