Sukkot – Bringing Heaven Down to Earth (Revised 5775)

A Busy Month

The month of Tishre is filled to the brim with holidays. Rosh Hashana initiates
a spiritual momentum that reaches its zenith ten days later on Yom Kippur. Only
four days are then given to us to recuperate from the intensity of the Day of
Atonement before the joyous holiday of Sukkot begins. Although Rosh Hashana and
Yom Kippur share a common theme – repentance – it is more difficult to account
for the observance of Sukkot at a time of year that is already overscheduled.
Indeed, in view of the fact that Sukkot is a commemoration of our dwelling in
the wilderness of Sinai after our departure from Egypt, it could just as easily
(and, we might argue, even more logically) have been established in the
springtime after Passover. Apparently, for a deeper reason, the Torah intended
for Sukkot to be closely linked to Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. What is the
conceptual relationship between the High Holidays and Sukkot that the Torah
wishes to teach us?

The Enigma of the Four Species

Before attempting to answer this fundamental question, let us examine another
aspect of the Sukkot festival. On Sukkot, The Torah commands us to “take
for ourselves” four species – a palm branch (lulav), myrtle branches
(hadasim), willow branches (aravot) and a citron (etrog) and to rejoice with
them during the holiday. In the Holy Temple, this mitsvah was performed all
seven days of Sukkot. Outside of Jerusalem, it was observed only on the first
day. After the destruction of the Temple, however, the Rabbis decreed that the
waving of the Four Species be enacted across the globe on all seven days so as
to commemorate the Temple service.

The commandment of waving the species stands out from among all other
holiday-related mitsvot in one respect: The Torah offers no reason for it! The
Torah provides a rationale for eating matsah on Passover, fasting on Yom Kippur
and even for dwelling in booths on Sukkot. However, it presents us with no
explanation at all for the mitsvah of taking the Four Species.

In fact, the way in which the Torah presents the obligation to celebrate with
the Lulav and Etrog in Parashat Emor is itself quite unusual:

And Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying: “Speak to the Children of Israel,
saying, ‘On the fifteenth day of this seventh month is a festival of booths –
seven days dedicated to Hashem. On the first day will be a holy convocation,
you shall do no laborious work. For seven days, you shall offer fire-offerings
to Hashem; on the eighth day, it shall be for you a holy convocation, you shall
do no laborious work. These are the holidays of Hashem, holy convocations, that
you shall declare in their proper times – to offer fire-offerings to Hashem,
burnt offerings, meal offerings, peace offerings and libations, each day
according to its requirements…'”

At this point, it would be reasonable for the reader to conclude that the
discussion of the festivals has been concluded. But not so fast! The Torah
suddenly reverses course and reopens the subject of the holidays:

‘…However, on the fifteen day of the seventh month, when you are gathering
the produce of the land, celebrate the holiday of Hashem for seven days – the
first day shall be a rest day, and the eighth day shall be a rest day. And you
shall take for yourselves on the first day the fruit of a beautiful tree
[etrog], palm branches, the branch of a myrtle tree and willow branches, and
you shall rejoice before Hashem your God seven days… In booth shall you dwell
for seven days….’ And Moshe told the holidays of Hashem to the Children of
Israel.

On the surface, it seems as if the mitsvot of Sukkot are appended to the
discussion of the holidays as an “afterthought”. Why did the Torah
first summarize its entire treatment of the festivals and only then revisit
Sukkot in more detail? Couldn’t the Torah have provided us with a complete
account of the holiday the first time around? Furthermore, we must wonder why
the final section of the Parasha begins with the word “however”.
“However” usually introduces a new statement that will contradict
expectations generated by a previous statement (ex. “it was hot outside;
however, Jim did not turn on the air conditioning”). Here though, not only
does the presentation of Sukkot not contradict the preceding material, it
actually elaborates on and clarifies it! There is no doubt that the striking
manner in which the Torah teaches us about the laws of Sukkot is meant to give
us insight into their underlying significance.

Adam, Eve and Mother Earth

In order to solve the mystery of the Four Species and develop a better
appreciation of Sukkot in general, let us consider the teachings of our Rabbis
on the subject. Nachmanides in particular offers us several hints that we may be
able to utilize in our quest for an explanation of the Species. In his
commentary to Parashat Emor, he mentions that the purpose of the commandment is
to rectify the sin of Adam, the first man, who consumed the fruit of the Tree
of Knowledge of Good and Evil. According to one Midrashic opinion, the fruit
that Adam erred with was the Etrog. Apparently, through utilizing the Etrog for
a mitsvah, we obtain atonement for the mistake of our ancestor. Nachmanides
also cites a Midrash that, at first blush, sounds quite surprising:

“Fruit of a beautiful (hadar) tree” – this is the Holy One,
Blessed is He, as it states, “Glory and splendor (hadar) are before
Him”.
“Palm branches (temarim)” – this is the Holy One, Blessed is He, as
it states, “The Righteous One sprouts like a palm.”
“Myrtle branches” – this is the Holy One, Blessed is He, as it
states, “And He stands among the myrtles”.
“Willow branches (aravot)” – this is the Holy One, Blessed is He, as
it states, “Praise He Who rides above the heavens (aravot).”

How can the Midrash suggest that the Four Species represent Hashem Himself?
Taken literally, this notion is not only blasphemous, it would be idolatrous.
What did the Rabbis intend to teach us with this homiletic interpretation?

Let us consider one further Midrash of our Sages concerning the Lulav and
Etrog. We know that in addition to holding the Four Species in our hands, we
wave them in every direction during the Hallel prayer. This is said to be done
in imitation of the trees of the field that tremble with joy when they witness
the judgment of God. The Rabbis base this concept upon a verse in the Book of
Psalms:

“The field will exult and all that is in it.”

Why do the trees rejoice? Because Hashem has come on Rosh Hashana and Yom
Kippur. And what has He come to do? “He will judge the Earth in righteousness
and the peoples in fairness.”

Here the Rabbis emphasize a thematic connection between Rosh Hashana, Yom
Kippur and Sukkot that manifests itself specifically in the waving of the Four
Species. Through performing the mitsvah of Lulav and Etrog, we participate with
nature, as it were, in its celebration of the Divine judgment that was
finalized on Yom Kippur. To some extent, we understand that the description of
trees rejoicing is meant in a metaphoric or poetic vein. But what do the
Psalmist, and the Rabbis who elucidated his words, intend to teach us by
utilizing this imagery? After all, what significance could Hashem’s evaluation
of human beings possibly have for the vegetation of the Earth?

Yom Kippur and Sukkot

I believe we are now in a position to develop a more comprehensive and
meaningful approach to understanding the Tishre holidays in general and Sukkot
in particular. Let us begin by considering the thematic objectives of Rosh
Hashana and Yom Kippur in greater depth.

The overarching purpose of the High Holidays is for the Jewish people to repent
before God. However, repentance is not a simple mitsvah. It is interesting to
note that, no matter how much we repent, there always seems to be more to do.
The process never reaches any definite conclusion. What accounts for this
unusual state of affairs?

An analogy will lead us to the answer. Consider the removal of weeds from a
garden. No matter how many times one hacks away weeds, they regrow quickly if
the roots are not dug out. Cutting the vegetation above the surface of the
ground is not sufficient because it is really just a manifestation of the root
beneath. In the same sense, it is clear that the problems addressed in
repentance – i.e., the particular sins we commit and promise to discontinue –
are merely symptoms of an underlying spiritual “disorder” that cannot
be resolved in a superficial way. If we are to develop as Jews, we must proceed
to the “root” and attempt to dislodge it. Fortunately, the Torah
helps us by identifying the character of the ailment we’ve diagnosed as well as
providing us with a remedy for it.

The Torah teaches that from time immemorial, we human beings have found
ourselves grappling with a fundamental moral dilemma that makes itself felt in
every area of our individual and collective activity. On one hand, we recognize
that we are small, frail beings with limited lifespans who stand in the
presence of an Eternal and Inscrutable Creator. Every element of the material
Universe, whether grand or minute, is governed by the principles of God’s
infinite knowledge. Intuitively, we realize that, as part of the created order,
we too should admire and adhere to the dictates of His wisdom. Human life, if
it is to have any lasting significance, must be organized around and shaped by
a study of God’s truth. Human beings must seek a connection with the ultimate
reality if they have any hope of “being real” themselves.

At the same time, though, we naturally seek to dominate our environments and
yearn to establish our own independent criteria of truth and morality. We
strive to create personal, financial or political empires that will testify to
the fact that we are “gods, knowing good and evil.” In order to fully
devote ourselves to these goals, we must ignore or deny the fact that we are
nothing more than tiny parts of a Divinely governed Universe. We must orient
ourselves to our environments in a utilitarian, pleasure-seeking manner that
focuses us on the sensual aspects of world and blinds us from perceiving the
intrinsic beauty and wisdom that they manifest. Only then can we manage to
nurture our fantasies of grandeur and style ourselves creators rather than
creations.

Before they sinned, Adam and Eve oriented themselves to the world as seekers of
truth whose primary desire was to understand the Universe and their place in
it. However, once they began manipulating their environment for purposes of
pleasure, they became conscious of their own moral freedom and their ability to
generate a manmade value system that would revolve around their own personal
agendas rather than God’s plan. This immediately hurled them into the throes of
a painful internal conflict, i.e., they were attracted to the pursuit of wisdom
but could not release themselves from the grip of their newfound egotistical
and hedonistic fantasies. We, as the descendants of Adam and Eve, continue to
contend with the intellectual and moral dilemma they bequeathed to us. The vast
majority of our sins result from setbacks in our constant struggle with this
problem.

The power of the High Holidays lies in the fact that they throw this
fundamental conflict into clear relief. The sound of the Shofar on Rosh Hashana
awakens us from our self-imposed dogmatic slumbers and refocuses our minds on
the reality of God’s Kingship and its implications. On Yom Kippur, we go even
further, demonstrating our recognition of Hashem’s holiness through a complete
renunciation of the materialistic worldview that enticed Adam and Eve.
Separating from all bodily pleasures and selfish pursuits, devoting every
moment of our time to reflection on Hashem’s greatness, we immerse ourselves in
the ultimate truth. On this day we reach the pinnacle of awareness of God, such
that the Torah says “before Hashem, shall you be
purified.” The very process of tearing away our illusions and focusing on
God’s transcendence can purify and transform us. Yom Kippur, then, is the
intellectual antidote to the tradition of sin that has its roots in the Garden
of Eden.

It should be immediately obvious that Yom Kippur, though necessary for our
growth, is by no means sufficient. Prayers and fasting certainly offer us a
powerful experience of clarification and intensive focus. However, we know full
well that, as soon as we return to our conventional daily routines, whatever effects
Yom Kippur has had will wear off quickly. Involvement in the day-to-day pursuit
of a livelihood as well as exposure to temptations of pleasure and prestige
will overtake us and cause us to lose a handle on the ideas that seemed so
clear at Neilah time. Simply stated, real change cannot be effected in the
abstract. It requires a shift in how we actually perceive, understand and
respond to the concrete realia of everyday life. How can a more effective
bridge be made from the spiritual heights of Yom Kippur to the mundane world of
the physical and temporal?

Sukkot is the Torah’s answer to this problem. On Sukkot, it is precisely the
physical dimension of our existence that is addressed. We eat, drink, and sleep
in the Sukkah. Every act of dwelling, no matter how apparently insignificant,
is transformed into a mitsvah. Through fulfilling the commandment of Sukkah, we
remain “before Hashem” – cognizant of His transcendence – while
engaging in the very activities that usually distract us from Him. This is why,
in describing Sukkot, the Torah states “And you shall celebrate before
Hashem for seven days.” The institution of Sukkot does not allow
us to leave our experience of God’s presence behind after Yom Kippur. On the
contrary, we must extend it and carry it along with us into the Sukkah. Only
then can our new level of abstract understanding begin to exert a substantial
influence on the way we live our lives.

Giving a New Meaning to the Term “Fieldwork”

What is it about the Sukkah that makes it the ideal vehicle for ‘extending’
the Yom Kippur experience? Further reflection on the primary cause of human sin
will help us appreciate the Torah’s wisdom in its selection of Sukkot for this
purpose.

As mentioned above, human beings fall into error when they disconnect
themselves from nature and its lawfulness. Rather than seeing themselves as
part of the Creation that should be living in harmony with it, they separate
from it and attempt to lord over it. The Sukkah reverses this trend by placing
us back “into the field”, as it were, like Adam and Eve before their
sin. Unlike a house whose artificial character reinforces our illusion of
isolation from the Universe, the Sukkah reintegrates us with the natural world
and its Source.

Thus, the Sukkah allows us to keep God at the forefront of our minds, even as
we eat, drink and rejoice. In this sense, it gives us a taste of the ideal
state of human perfection, as formulated by Maimonides in his laws of Character
Traits:

A person must direct all of his actions toward achieving knowledge of God
alone. So that his sitting, standing, and speech are all instrumental to this
goal…Thus, a person who walks in this way all of his days is serving Hashem
constantly – even at the times that he is engaged in business dealings and even
when he is involved in marital relations – because his purpose in doing these
activities is to satisfy his bodily needs so he can serve Hashem. And even at
the time he is sleeping, if he sleeps so that his mind can rest and his body
doesn’t become sick – for it is impossible to serve Hashem when one is sick –
then it turns out that his sleeping is service of God, blessed be He. And it is
regarding this topic that our Rabbis commanded and said, “All of your
actions should be for the sake of Heaven.” And so did King Solomon say in
his wisdom, “In all your ways you should know Him.”

Demystifying the Midrashim

With this foundation in place, we can begin to understand the Midrashim
introduced earlier. We wondered about the meaning of the
“personification” of the trees of the field that we find in the
poetry of the Psalms and in the discourses of our Rabbis. Now, the thrust of
these texts becomes much clearer. The natural world, the “field”
mentioned in Psalms, is already praising its Creator through conforming to His
laws and statutes. On Sukkot, we literally enter the “field”, and we
grasp the produce of the “field” in our hands as we give thanks to
God in Hallel. Through this, we demonstrate our sense of unity and solidarity
with Creation. No longer are we struggling to distinguish ourselves from the
rest of the Universe. On the contrary, we now seek to study, extol, and live in
accordance with the magnificent design of the Almighty.

The Rabbis imply that, metaphorically speaking, the trees of the field “await”
our arrival after the High Holidays. The entire physical Universe reflects the
infinite wisdom of its Creator without resistance or reservation. Only mankind
diverges from this pattern and attempts to establish an artificial, alternative
world order that suits human ambitions and aspirations. As long as human beings
remain out of step with the rest of the Universe, the natural world is somewhat
deficient in its praise of God.

When the Jewish people returns to Hashem on Yom Kippur, we lay the groundwork
for a spiritual renaissance – for reassuming our position as servants of Hashem
rather than slaves of human agenda. This itself is reason enough for the rest
of creation to rejoice. However, these feelings of optimism will be short-lived
unless the sense of God’s presence that we achieved on Yom Kippur is allowed to
permeate our worldview in its totality and effect permanent change in our
outlook. Our observance of Sukkot is meant to encourage us to translate the
momentary epiphany of Neilah into a completely new orientation toward the
material world. When we enter the Sukkah and grasp the Four Species,
identifying with the vegetation of the Earth, we begin to view our own role in
the world from a much more realistic standpoint – a standpoint that will we
will hopefully internalize for good.

This also sheds light on the surprising Midrash that seemed to equate each of
the Four Species with Hashem. Understood properly, the Rabbis did not, God
forbid, intend to imply that physical objects could serve as representations of
the Almighty. Instead, they meant to point out that the transformation we
undergo on the High Holidays revolutionizes the way in which we view our
environment. The instinctually or egotistically driven person who sees an Etrog
will immediately consider it in terms of his own agenda – what does it taste
like? Would it make a nice stew? Could I go into the Etrog farming business and
be successful? Approaching the world through this framework is a tremendous
liability, because it feeds into a human-centered view of the Universe. The
more a person with this attitude is exposed to the resources of the material
world, the further he will become steeped in the pursuit of instinctual
gratification.

The person of Torah, by contrast, sees in the diverse qualities of the Species
the providential design of the Creator that is revealed through them. Holding
the Species together underscores the fact that, despite the differences they
exhibit on a superficial, sensory level, all four of them derive from the same
harmonious system of natural law. When he gazes upon the Lulav, Etrog, Hadassim
and Aravot, he sees Hashem – in other words, he moves beyond their physical
characteristics and perceives the Divine wisdom they embody. The framework
through which he processes his experiences is fundamentally different than that
of the materialist, and this impacts the way he understands his environment and
behaves within it. Because his whole perspective on the material world is
rooted in his knowledge of God, exposure to its beauty can only propel him
toward further dedication to Divine service.

Uniqueness of Sukkot

At this juncture we can make sense out of the unusual structure of Parashat
Emor. Why does the Torah introduce Sukkot, seem to conclude the treatment of
the holidays, and then introduce and explain Sukkot in greater detail? And why
is the revisiting of Sukkot begun with the term “however”?

A closer examination of the Parasha’s words will reveal the answer. In the
first “conclusion” of Emor, we read:

These are the holidays of Hashem, holy convocations, that you shall declare
in their proper times – to offer fire-offerings to Hashem, burnt offerings,
meal offerings, peace offerings and libations, each day according to its
requirements. This is in addition to the Sabbaths of Hashem, and in addition to
all of the gifts, pledges and donations that you give to Hashem. However, on
the fifteenth day of the seventh month….

The Torah did not intend to close its discussion of the holidays at this
point. Rather, the Torah meant to emphasize a crucial distinction between
Sukkot and the remainder of Biblical holidays. On all other holidays, the
ultimate experience of being “before Hashem” is restricted to the
Holy Temple where offerings are brought. Average Israelites would visit the
Temple on the Festivals and would draw profound inspiration from it, but their
role would never be crossed with that of the Kohanim.

On Sukkot, though, the concept of being “before Hashem” becomes
common property. It is firmly implanted in our minds on Yom Kippur and
integrated into our experience of daily living through the Sukkah and Four
Species. On Sukkot, we achieve the ideal of becoming a kingdom of priests and a
holy nation, of incorporating awareness of God into the most mundane aspects of
our existence. The clearest indication of this new status is the mitsvah of
waving the Four Species, which – although it is considered part of the
seven-day Temple service for Sukkot, and should logically be restricted to
Kohanim in Jerusalem – is performed by all Jews world over on the first day of
Sukkot (and, since the destruction of the Temple, for all seven days of the
holiday.) Because Sukkot transforms the very manner in which we relate to our
environment, and ourselves it has the capacity of extending the holiness of the
Mikdash beyond its physical borders. On this Festival, the Jewish people create
their own personal sanctuaries in the form of Sukkot and are slightly less
dependent upon the Holy Temple to represent God’s presence for them.