Prolonging the Mitzva of Sukka Virtually if not Physically

R. Yaakov Bieler Shmini Atzeret, 5769

Life seems to be filled with comings and goings. And we adopt different sensibilities concerning how we deal with the onset of new events in contrast to dealing with situations that are concluding. Shakespeare writes:

Time is like a fashionable host That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arms outstretched, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing.1

It was only a relatively short time ago when we entered the Sukka and uttered prayers reflecting our hopes for inspiration, spiritual uplifting and even actual Heavenly Protection via the experience of dwelling in this structure as much as possible during the coming week:

May it be Your Will, my God and God of my forefathers, that You Cause Your Presence to reside among us, (and that You Spread over us Your Sukka of Peace), in the merit of the Mitzva of Sukka that we are fulfilling… And to Surround us with the aura of Your Honor, Holy and Pure, spread over our heads from above like an eagle arousing its young…2

Although the records a dispute regarding the nature of the symbolism represented by our spending so much time in the Sukka at this season of the year—

Sukka 11b As it is taught (in a Baraita): (VaYikra 23:43) “…Because in Sukkot I Caused the Jewish people to dwell…”—They were Clouds of Glory: the words of R. Eliezer. R. Akiva says: They made for themselves actual Sukkot, whether God’s Protection was literally miraculous and supernatural, in the form of thick clouds that surrounded the newly freed people and paved their path through the desert,3 or was more of a Neis Nistar (hidden miracle) in the sense that the seemingly flimsy shelter provided by the rickety huts were backed by powerful

1 Troilus and Cressida, (1602), act 3, scene 3, l. 165. 2 The Complete ArtScroll Machzor—Succos, Nusach Ashkenaz, trans. Rabbi Avie Gold, Mesorah Publications, Brooklyn, NY, 1998, p. 77. 3 See e.g., Tosefta Sukka 4:2. Divine Protection, we not only strive to remember what our people once experienced, but are desirous of having such protection extended to us once again.

Now, eight days later, on Shmini Atzeret, we are poised to utter our farewell to the Sukka experience:

Master of the Universe! May it be Your Will that the holy angels4 connected with the Mitzva of Sukka and the Mitzva of the Four Species—Lulav, Etrog, Hadas and Arava—that are performed during the festival of Sukkot, accompany us when we leave the Sukka, and may they enter our homes with us in life and in peace.

May there always be upon us a Heavenly Protection from Your Holy Abode, to save us from all sin and iniquity, from evil occurrences, from malevolent periods that are stirring to come upon the world. Arouse upon us a spirit from above; Rejuvenate our inner source of counsel that we may serve You in truth, in love and in awe; that we may be diligent in the study of Your Holy Tora, to study and to teach…5

The two sections of this entreaty are notable. On the one hand, we express the desire that there be a residual effect from our performance of the Commandments that are ostensibly unique to this festival and time of year. Not only should dwelling in the Sukka and waving the Four Species make a profound impression upon us while they are actually taking place, but we are hoping that whatever spiritual value they might have exerted be long-lasting—perhaps for an entire year—until the requirement to engage in these practices rolls around once again.6 In effect, we express the wish that the physical performance of these Mitzvot will generate an impression that will far outlast their final day’s observance. Many years ago, the Mashgiach Ruchani (spiritual supervisor) of a Yeshiva at which I was a student suggested to me a relaxation technique whereby one first tenses his muscles, then allows them to return to their original state, all the while concentrating on what that final sensation feels like. The objective becomes to mentally reproduce that feeling, thereby willing oneself at some point in the future to feel relaxed in spite of actual circumstances that may mitigate against such feelings. It would appear that the

4 The assumption that each positive fulfillment of a Commandment results in the creation of an angel, parallels the following Rabbinic source: Avot 4:11 פרקליט R. Eliezer ben Yaakov says: One who performs one Mitzva, acquires one (defender/recommender/an entity that speaks positively on his behalf.) And one who commits one (.an accuser who demands him to be punished) רקטיגו transgression acquires one 5 The Complete ArtScroll Machzor—Succos, p. 1021. 6 An alternative and more modest approach would maintain that each set of unique Commandments associated with the festivals, i.e., Sukka and Four Species, followed by Pesach, Matza, Maror, and possibly even including the practices of Rabbinic commemorations such as lighting of the Menora, reading the Megilla together with Mishloach Manot, Matanot LeEvyonim and Seudat Purim, etc., tide one over until the next spiritual event on the Jewish calendar, thereby making the expectations of residual spiritual influence more realistic. request that we are expressing in this first part of the “Farewell to the Sukka” aspires to a parallel metaphysical sensibility, i.e., to retain the spiritual sensation of inspiration well-beyond the specific performance of these particular Commandments.

Whereas the first request in this prayer appears to assume that we can be positively influenced from without, i.e., the spiritual dimensions of the physical things that we do penetrate our interiors to impact upon our minds and souls,7 the second part of the supplication reflects the view that we also acknowledge that we could use Divine Assistance independent of the influences of Mitzva performance when it comes to our inner personal choices that we constantly make both within and without Mitzva contexts. As much as we might value our freedom of choice and moral autonomy, there are moments, mostly after the fact, when what we thought were positive actions, prove to be anything but, that we wish that something or Someone could have interceded and Saved us from ourselves.8

Yet when we consider our liturgy, it would appear that our being ensconced in Sukkot over the course of the year, if not daily, then at least at very regular intervals, is clearly assumed. Consider the blessing beginning “Hashkiveinu” that immediately precedes the Ma’ariv Silent Devotion every and Yom Tov:

Lay us down to sleep HaShem, Our God in peace, raise us to erect, Our King to life, (and Spread over us Your Sukka of Peace). Set us aright with good counsel from before Your Presence, and Save us for Your Name’s sake. Shield us, Remove from us foe, plague, sword, famine and woe; and Remove every spiritual impediment from before us and behind us, and in the shadow of Your Wings, Shelter us—for God Who Protects and Rescues us are You; for God, the gracious and compassionate King are You. Safeguard our going and coming, for life and for peace from now unto eternity. (And Spread over us the Sukka of Your Peace.) Blessed are you HaShem, (Who Spreads the Sukka of Peace upon us, upon all His People Israel and upon Jerusalem.)9

Apparently, even once we leave the physical huts of the Sukkot festival, there is a sense that when we step back from our everyday lives, when we surround ourselves

7 This process is cited by Sefer HaChinuch a number of times, e.g., Mitzva #16, 95, 144, 147, 264. 8 A haunting Midrashic take on this sensibility is the story of Moshe, while a small child, being diverted by the angel Gavriel from choosing a golden crown and instead opting for the glowing coal in the presence of Pharoah. Although according to this Midrash, Moshe injured himself when he drew that hot coal to his lips, had he chosen the crown, Pharoah’s suspicions of his adopted son would have been confirmed and Moshe’s personal history, if not Jewish history as a whole may have taken a radically different course. See Shemot Rabba 1:26. 9 The Complete ArtScroll Siddur—Weekday, Sabbath, Festival, Nusach Ashkenaz, trans. R. Nosson Scherman, Messorah Publications Ltd., Brooklyn, NY, 1996, pp. 335-7. with the atmosphere of Shabbat and Yom Tov, the feeling of being enveloped by God’s Protection can be almost as tangible as when we sit within the cocoon of the literal Sukka’s Sechach and walls. However, it is important to note that the degree to which our Shabbatot and Yomim Tovim offer us this type of refuge and connection to God is not something that comes automatically, but rather very much depends upon the manner in which we approach these special days. A literary support for this idea is found in the Penetential Psalm, Tehilla 27, that has been recited since Elul until today. VaYikra Rabba 21:4 notes that in the Psalm’s very first line, (My Light) is a reference to Rosh HaShana, while (My Salvation) is associated with Yom HaKippurim, i.e., on the day of judgment God Looks upon me, which in turn forces me to “shine light upon myself,” to become introspective, reflective and ultimately identify the manner in which I have to improve, while on the Day of Atonement, I hopefully can make the representation that I have been trying to rectify my shortcomings and on that basis hopefully obtain forgiveness so that I will have another year to continue to work on myself, “be Saved by God.” While the Midrash does not draw attention to verse 5 in the same Tehilla, it clearly can also be connected to this time of year:

me Keeps He calamity; of day the in Sukka) His in) ה ַ בּ ֻ ס כּ ֹ me Conceals He For from being found in the covert of His Tent. He Lifts me on high upon a rock.

“BaSukko” is an example of a combination of Ktiv (the manner in which a word is written/spelled) and Kri (the way it is pronounced.)10 It is written as if it represents “BaSukka”, the “Heh” in place of the “Vav” that would ordinarily connote the possessive pronoun referring to God. Without the “Vav”, the word means “a Sukka.” However, it is read as if a “Vav” does appear at the end of the word, “His Sukka.” The tension between this particular Ktiv and Kri could very well indicate that whether Jewish ritual in general and Shabbat and Yom Tov in particular offer simply a break from the routine of the everyday world, or a true means of entrée into a personal and meaningful relationship with God very much depends upon the degree to which we decide to either allow these rituals to constitute a mere Sukka, a retreat, a change of pace, or Sukko, an opportunity to make connections with HaShem that ordinarily are not available to us. Be’er Heitev on Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chayim 267 #2 quotes the commentary TaZ to similar effect:

…And it is our custom to say (in the blessing “Hashkiveinu”) (safeguard our going and coming) (This phrase seems not to be in keeping with Shabbat observance since it is when we are not engaged in our everyday goings and comings that Shabbat offers the protection of a Sukka!) because we know that we do not have the status of being careful Shabbat observers as would be appropriate. It is for this reason that we have to pray for this additional guarding…

10 See Sanhedrin 4a-b for a number of examples of this phenomenon and rules for interpreting such instances. Apparently the degree to which we not only divest ourselves of our weekday concerns and responsibilities, but also engage in purely spiritual matters11 will establish what sort of Sukka Shabbat and Yomim Tovim offer us.

I think that we are not always aware of what we do and how we do it. Sometimes, having a true outsider scrutinize our activities and share his/her impressions with us can be very revealing. Consider the following passage from a recent book by a Catholic theology professor at the University of Scranton:12

My friends always told me that they love Shabbos, but quite frankly I never believed them. Until recently I assumed that Shabbos observance was a big nuisance—some sort of penitential thing that had to make the best of and pretended to like for the benefit of outsiders. When someone summoned me as a Shabbos , I would do the job, chat for a couple of minutes, and then leave, assuming that they would find it an irritation to have me hanging around watching them navigate all the annoying rules.

My attitude changed suddenly and completely when I stopped by Ahuva’s for some reason one Shabbos afternoon. An appetizing smell was coming from the kitchen. Yaakov and Simcha were doing puzzles on the floor; Yosef was bent over a Hebrew book at the table; Dovid was trying to stand on his head. Something about the scene struck me as peculiar, but it took me a minute to figure out what it was. Ahuva has eight children, runs a catering business from home, heads fund raising for the Day School, works in the Mikveh every evening from her children’s bedtime until her own, and sews most of the clothes for her own family and lots of other people besides. She is perpetually on the move, manhandling toddlers and shopping bags in and out of the car with her sleeves rolled up, flour on her nose, needles stuck through her shirt, and the cell phone clipped to her belt ringing every two minutes. In years I don’t think I had ever seen her sit down for three minutes at a time, even during meals. But here she was lying on the sofa with the little ones lolling against her, listening to Dina read a sci-fi novel. She couldn’t cook, she couldn’t sew; she couldn’t shop; she didn’t have to answer the phone. She just had to be.

It was one of those sudden shifts in perspective, like when you think you have been looking at two black faces on a white background and suddenly all you can see is a white vase on a black background. I had always thought of Shabbos as a twenty-five hour prison of petty

11 See e.g., Yeshayahu 58:13 for a summary of what constitutes the “spirit” as opposed to the “letter” of Shabbat. 12 Maria, Poggi Johnson, Strangers and Neighbors—A Memoir, W Publishing Group, Nashville, TN, 2006, pp. 52-4. regulation, enlivened by a bit of religion. Suddenly I saw why my friends spoke of it with such love, why they thought of the day not as a prison but as a queen, why Ahuva insists that her children spend the day in homes where Shabbos is observed. “There’s an atmosphere in a Shabbos house that’s not like anything else,” she says. It’s not just that Ahuva was getting a break from her hectic life, but that she was at the epicenter of a place where restfulness was absolutely palpable: not just an absence of activity but a real presence. Had there been royalty in the house, the atmosphere could not have been more different from the other days of the week.

Can we attest to our own homes being not just “Sukka” but actually “Sukko” on Shabbat and Yom Tov? What would someone like this author say if she were to drop in on us? Could this not be the sense of the Aggada in Shabbat 119b, upon which the poem “Shalom Aleichem” is based, where two angels accompany everyone home from shul and evaluate whether the house is “Shabbosdic” or not? We hope that we continue to live in God’s Sukka even after Shmini Atzeret. What sort of Sukka that will be is up to us.