Security does not reside in four walls but in one's inner self.
By ANDREA SIMANTOVsukkah 88 224(photo credit: Courtesy)
During the High Holy Days, there is sometimes a sense of despair about the world and the society in which we live. This feeling emanates from a visceral place because deep within our collective souls, we understand that the seeds of destruction that deprived us of our homeland and brought us into exile are still very real and current.
But we needn't stay stuck and anxious because if we are spurred to action, then we can find a comfort zone from which we can begin to move forward.
"To despair of the world" means abandoning illusions and reexamining our reliance upon man. Recognizing the futility of much of man's pursuits and illusory success can bring one to ultimately reject the illusions of Olam Hazeh (this transitory world) and draw nearer to renewal, or teshuva.
Succot is the ultimate destination of this journey - serving God with joy and authentic happiness and building upon the foundation of teshuva.
This thesis opens avenues of thought that shed new light on the concept and character of Succot.
Man instinctively seeks security. "Strength" is usually equated with security, "might" with majesty and power, and these in turn are considered to be the guarantors of peace. Throughout history, governments have subscribed to this basic philosophical policy. And individuals who also seek security through material means have always relied on physical measures for protection - be they walls, locks or alarm systems.
"For the man that is good in His sight He gives wisdom and knowledge and joy, but to the sinner He gives the task to gather and accumulate" (Ecclesiastes, Chapter 2).
A sinner is someone who labors under the misconception that amassing and accumulating - be it wealth or weapons - will grant him safety and security.
The man who faces his faith and trusts in the Almighty is favored and granted three precious gifts: wisdom, knowledge, and happiness. The man who knows where strength lies possesses true chochma (spiritual understanding) and is consequently blessed with simcha (joy).
Which brings us to another question. Why is Succot called "Zman Simchateinu" (a time of joy)? This would seem a more appropriate label for Hanukka or Purim. Succot conjures up thoughts of braving the harsh outdoors, eating every meal in a jerry-built hut for eight days, the exorbitant price you pay for a fancy stalk and a lemon, not to mention the annoying bees or the backache you get from constructing the succa.
Joy is actually the essence of Succot and the raison d'etre for Shmini Atzeret. The fact remains, however, that the joy of this chag is something that the world doesn't often encounter.
And just what is this elusive concept? As stated in Masechet Succa, "If I am here, then everything and everybody is here; and if I am not here, then who is here?"
What seems like an existential claptrap (a tree falling in the forest?) is actually a keen observation of what joy is all about. To better understand this line, liken it to Ben-Zoma's popular adage: "Who is rich? He who is happy with his lot" (Pirkei Avot). Joy is based in reality, and how you relate to your here-and-now is as inextricably linked with the rest of the world. It is marked by the acceptance of yourself and your lot in life.
Unfortunately, when it comes to joy, society's grasp of real simcha is as tenuous as its existence. Rabbi Soloveichik makes a distinction between the simcha we are talking about and the vacuous enjoyment we experience at the movies, concerts, restaurants and other distractions we surround ourselves with. While true simcha involves experiencing one's inner self and tangible reality, escapism must be recognized as the means of deluding ourselves about the aforementioned here-and-now that we should be embracing.
The succa is not well built nor physically sturdy; but neither is man! The world we live in - the succa - does not protect us very well from the elements. But then again, man has always been vulnerable to nature and its furies. What the Jew comes to realize in the succa is that peace - both in body and mind - is to be found in the knowledge that strength is not in our exclusive province, nor is security in our power. Both are under the protective shield of the Guardian of Israel.
The phrase in the evening service that we recite every Shabbat and Yom Tov should also become more meaningful: "Spread over us the succa of Thy peace." It doesn't say "house" of peace but clearly "succa" because a house would be misleading. It could delude one into thinking that the walls and doors are our security. The succa creates no such illusions, for we know that we are frail and vulnerable but yet secure and strong if we come to merit the concern and protection of the Almighty.n
A final thought
"If you are not more spiritual today than you were yesterday, you have lost ground, not merely failed to grow. A person does not remain static. If one is not progressing, one is regressing" (from Smiling Each Day by Rabbi Abraham Twerski).
if(catID != 151){
var cont = `Take Israel home with the new Jerusalem Post Store
