Lessons of Sukkot
Sermon, October 1, 2004
Rabbi Bruce Kadden
Chag Sameach! We are in the midst of our celebration of Sukkot, our
fall harvest festival. On Sukkot we recall our ancestor’s wandering in the
wilderness as we build sukkot, temporary shelters, to remind us of the shelters
the Israelites lived in during those years.
As I pointed out on Wednesday evening, the rabbis called Sukkot z’man
simchateinu, the season of our rejoicing. They wanted to emphasize the
joyful aspect of the holiday, as we celebrate our ancestors’ survival in the
wilderness, as well as the fall harvest. But the rabbis derived other lessons
from the holiday as well, particularly from the symbols of the holiday, the
Sukkah, the lulav and the etrog. This evening I want to discuss some of those
lessons to help us appreciate this holiday.
First let us consider the Sukkah, the temporary shelters we build. It is
traditional to begin building the Sukkah immediately after Yom Kippur; indeed,
there are only four days in between, so we are forced to undertake this task
rather quickly. And what a task it is. As one who is constructionally
challenged, trying to erect a free-standing shelter is quite an ordeal. Facing
this challenge reminds us that we cannot remain forever in the spiritual realm,
but must be part of the world.
On Yom Kippur we escape from the world, from eating
and drinking and from other activities, but on Sukkot we thrust back into the
world. To paraphrase Kohelet/Ecclesiastes, which we read on this holiday,
“there is a time for contemplation and a time for action, a time for removing
ourselves from the world and a time for being part of the world. Building a
Sukkah reminds us that we cannot remove ourselves from the realities of life for
too long, but must be a part of our world.
The construction of the Sukkah offers another
lesson. It must have at least two and a half sides. The walls may be made of
any material; a permanent wall, such as of a house, may be used for one of the
walls. In fact, the rabbis debated whether an elephant could be used as a wall,
but that is another story.
The roof of the Sukkah, however, must be made of sechach, such as branches
from trees of bushes, cornstalks, bamboo reeds, or other vegetation. This
covering should be thick enough so that there is more shade than sunlight, but
not so thick that one cannot see the stars at night.
Such a structure certainly reminds us of our vulnerability. If we sleep in
the Sukkah, we cannot be entirely protected from the natural elements such as
cold, wind and rain. It is not by chance that the prayer for rain is added to
the liturgy on Sh’mini Atzeret, at the end of the holiday.
The Sukkah thus reminds us of our vulnerability, that we can’t completely
protect ourselves from the elements of the real world. Living in our fortified
houses can give us a false sense of security. But as Rabbi Irwin Kula notes,
“true security lay not in the material conditions of life, but in deep faith and
dependence on God.” Spending time in the Sukkah each year, whether it is eating
a meal or sleeping in it, reminds us of this important lesson.
Besides the Sukkah, the other important symbols of the holiday are the lulav
and the etrog. The lulav is comprised of branches from three trees: palm,
myrtle and willow. Rabbi Stephen Pearce points out that they are “humble,
unprepossessing products of an uncomplicated world…representing the agricultural
roots of civilizations from which they emerged.
According to the rabbis, each of the four species, as they are called,
represents a different type of person. The palm, which has taste, but no aroma,
symbolizes those who possess Torah but fail to practice deeds of kindness. The
myrtle, on the other hand, has aroma, but no taste and represents those who do
good deeds, though they do not study Torah. The willow has neither taste nor
aroma and represents those who do not study Torah nor practice good deeds. And
the etrog, with both taste and aroma, represents those who are immersed in Torah
and also practice good deeds.
When we shake the lulav and etrog, we take them all up together, as one, to
remind us that our Jewish community is strongest when we are together in one
community, learning from one another and mitigating each other’s shortcomings,
according to Rabbi Pearce. They are thus a symbol of k’lal Yisrael, the entire
Jewish people coming together as one.
Another interpretation of these symbols sees them as representing different
parts of the human body. The palm symbolizes the spine, reminding us to always
act with integrity and uprightness; the myrtle is symbolic of the eyes,
reflecting enlightenment. The willows represent our lips, reminding us of the
importance of our words and of avoiding lashon hara; and the etrog
symbolizes the heart, which according to the rabbis was the center of wisdom.
Taking these species together reminds us that we are to serve God with all of
our body, that our spine, eyes, lips, and heart each play an important role in
serving God.
The rabbis also interpreted the etrog, willow and myrtle as representing
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and the palm as symbolizing God. According to Rabbi
Bradley Shavit Artson, “By holding the three against the lulav, we act out our
hope that the sacred deeds of our ancestors, the lessons learned throughout our
lengthy history, will serve us well before God. Thus, lulav and etrog
demonstrate our link to Jewish history throughout time.”
So as we celebrate Sukkot, may its symbols remind us of these important
lessons:
--may the Sukkah remind us that we live in the physical world, and though we
may from time to time escape for this world, we must always return to it.
--may it also remind us of our vulnerability and our ultimate dependence on
God for care and protection.
--may the lulav and etrog remind us that we Jews are a diverse community, but
are strongest when we come together.
--may they remind us that we are to serve God with our entire body.
--and may they remind us of our link to our ancestors so that we may be
inspired by their commitment to God.
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