Tag Archives: sukkah

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What You Bring to Prayer

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MinyanA man may commit a crime now and teach mathematics effortlessly an hour later. But when a man prays, all he has done in his life enters his prayer.

-Abraham Joshua Heschel
God in Search of Man : A Philosophy of Judaism
pp. 301-2

In a sense, Sukkos itself is about getting our priorities straight. Here we just finished with the Days of Judgement, hopefully with Hashem’s blessings for a year of prosperity and success. Yet the first thing we do with our new-found blessings is to leave our comfortable homes for the temporary shade of the Sukkah. We thereby acknowledge that there can be no greater “success” in life that to do what Hashem really desires, even when it’s not what’s most comfortable. Sometimes we shake with the Esrog and sometimes we shake with the horse – the main thing is to strive to understand what Hashem wants of us in a given situation, not what we want or what makes us feel good. As the pasuk says (Mishlei/Proverbs 3:6), “In all your ways know Him; He will straighten your paths.”

Rabbi Eliyahu Hoffmann
“Sukkos: Shaking Up Our Priorities”
Torah.org

What does it mean to be a person of faith? Ironically, the answer may depend on your religion. Different faith groups seem to emphasize different priorities. What we believe we must do to serve God depends on the rules we have for such an occasion. In reading Rabbi Heschel’s book God in Search of Man, I found a representation of both the Jewish and Christian viewpoint on what it is to be a servant of God.

Here is how Heschel (p. 293) sees Christianity and frankly, how many Christians see themselves.

Paul waged a passionate battle against the power of law and proclaimed instead the religion of grace. Law, he exclaimed, cannot conquer sin, nor can righteousness be attained through works of the law. A man is justified “by faith without deeds of the law.” (Romans 3:28)

By contrast, Heschel presents Judaism thus:

It takes deeds more seriously than things. Jewish law is, in a sense, a science of deeds. Its main concern is not only how to worship Him at certain times but how to live with Him at all times. Every deed is a problem; there is a unique task at every moment. All of life at all moments is the problem and the task. (p. 292)

The claim of Judaism that religion and law are inseparable is difficult for many of us to comprehend. The difficulty may be explained by modern man’s conception of the essence of religion. To the modern mind, religion is a state of the soul, inwardness; feeling rather than obedience, faith rather than action, spiritual rather than concrete. To Judaism, religion is not a feeling for something that is, but an answer to Him who is asking us to live in a certain way. It is in its very origin a consciousness of total commitment; a realization that all of life is not only man’s but also God’s sphere of interest. (p. 293)

Heschel presents a very rigid dichotomy between Judaism and Christianity as faith lived out in deeds vs. one expressed only by internal introspection. Even prayer for a Jew is a matter, not only of what he thinks and feels, but what he does, vs. the prayer of a Christian as being a private, ephemeral pipeline between man and God, excluding anything behavioral. In fact, Heschel (p.295) paints an extremely dismal portrait of Christianity in this following example:

Thus acts of kindness, when not dictated by the sense of duty, are no better than cruelty, and compassion or regard for human happiness as such is looked upon as an ulterior motive. “I would not break my word even to save mankind!” exclaimed Fichte. His salvation and righteousness were apparently so much more important to him than the fate of all men that he would have destroyed mankind to save himself.

DaveningThe mistake in judging Christianity that Heschel makes is in judging the faultiness of some of its followers rather than the source itself. Didn’t James, the brother of the Master, write this?

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.”

Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.

You foolish person, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless? Was not our father Abraham considered righteous for what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did. And the scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness,” and he was called God’s friend. You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone.

In the same way, was not even Rahab the prostitute considered righteous for what she did when she gave lodging to the spies and sent them off in a different direction? As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead. –James 2:14-26

Of course, many Christians all but ignore this short but well-known piece of advice in favor of the creed whereby salvation is accomplished through faith alone and without works, thus depicting any good deeds as ultimately useless to an individual’s salvation.

But who said we are here simply to be saved? Yes, mankind is in trouble, we are morally bankrupt, self-driven, greedy, materialistic, and would consume our neighbor alive if there were not laws to prevent it. We need to be saved, not only from our ultimate fate at the hands of a living and just God, but from our own acts of self-destruction.

But why do Christians stop at praying for the church? Why do some Pastors limit their preaching to the salvation of the faithful when all people everywhere need not only a realization of God, but to live out a life that serves God and man? Even our secular and atheist brothers and sisters in the world surpass us in compassion sometimes.

I’m a liberal, so I probably dream bigger than you. For instance, I want everybody to have healthcare. I want lazy people to have healthcare. I want stupid people to have healthcare. I want drug addicts to have healthcare. I want bums who refuse to work even when given the opportunity to have healthcare. I’m willing to pay for that with my taxes, because I want to live in a society where it doesn’t matter how much of a loser you are, if you need medical care you can get it.

-Max Udargo
“Open Letter to that 53% Guy”
Daily Kos

You may consider Mr. Udargo’s statement to be extreme (and I’ve quoted him before), but he is expressing compassion for men and women he doesn’t even know and, through his taxes, he’s willing to pay to make sure they receive care they neither worked for nor, in some cases, ever intend to pay back. Shouldn’t a Christian have the same selfless caring for the needy, the broken, and the dying?

I think we’re supposed to, but the message has become lost. Like most of the rest of our culture, the church has become internally driven and self seeking. Perhaps the synagogue is no better in practice, but Rabbi Heschel reminds us that Judaism, and by inference Christianity, has a core set of principles that differs from how we actually choose to practice a life of faith today. Jesus said himself that we are to love both God and man (Matthew 22:37-40) and he didn’t mean just the people that we know and love.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. –Matthew 5:43-48

If, as Rabbi Heschel says, that “when a man prays, all he has done in his life enters his prayer”, then it’s not just what we think or feel when we are attempting to draw closer to God, but what we do that defines our relationship with Him. To see a person’s true relationship with the Creator, look at how they treat people.

Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister. –1 John 4:20-21

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Plain Clothes Sukkah

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Plain clothes angelIsrael here below is balanced by the angels on high, of whom it says: ‘Who makest thy angels into winds’ (Psalm 104:4). For the angels in descending on earth put on themselves earthly garments, as otherwise they could not stay in this world, nor could the world endure them. Now if thus it is with the angels, how much more so must it be with the Torah – the Torah that created them, that created all the worlds and is the means by which these are sustained. Thus had the Torah not clothed herself in garments of this world, the world could not endure it. The stories of the Torah are thus only her outer garments and whoever looks upon that garment as being the Torah itself, woe to that man – such a one will have no portion in the next world. David thus said: ‘Open thou mine eyes that I may behold wondrous things out of Thy Torah’ (Psalms 119:18); to wit, the things that are beneath the garment.

-Abraham Joshua Heschel
God in Search of Man : A Philosophy of Judaism (p. 267)

The LORD said to Moses, “Tell the Israelites to bring me an offering. You are to receive the offering for me from everyone whose heart prompts them to give. These are the offerings you are to receive from them: gold, silver and bronze; blue, purple and scarlet yarn and fine linen; goat hair; ram skins dyed red and another type of durable leather; acacia wood; olive oil for the light; spices for the anointing oil and for the fragrant incense; and onyx stones and other gems to be mounted on the ephod and breastpiece.

“Then have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them. Make this tabernacle and all its furnishings exactly like the pattern I will show you. –Exodus 25:1-9

If you’ve spent any time studying the book of Exodus and particularly the instructions God gives Moses for making the materials and components to be used in constructing the Mishkan (Tabernacle) in the desert, you probably noticed the exquisite level of detail and craftsmanship required. In fact, it required God to endow special skills to specific people (Exodus 31:1-11) in order to accomplish all that was needed. Of the Levites, different families and clans were assigned individual tasks over building and taking down the many and various parts of the Mishkan and its contents, and carrying them from place to place across the span of the forty years of the wandering of the Children of Israel. It would have been an enormous, pain-staking undertaking to set up the Mishkan to perfect specifications each time the Israelites stopped, and to take it down and move it each time the Israelites journeyed onward.

Now compare that to how you built your sukkah a few days ago. My family has a rather modest sukkah that came in a kit. It measures a scant four feet by six feet and can hold just a few people at a time. It’s fairly easy to put the framework together and to attach the necessary straps, but the cloth that makes up the walls (with a built-in doorway and window) is rather cumbersome to manage single-handed. It attaches to the frame using Velcro which is and isn’t easy to work with. I used a makeshift crossbeam to hold up the “ceiling” and put up the string of lights with tape. It’s not the most beautiful sukkah in the world I’m sure, but I can manage to put it up by myself and, when the time comes, I’ll be able to take it down and pack it away alone.

On the other hand, it can’t possibly be anywhere as arduous a task as when Moses (according to Rabbinic interpretation) constructed the Mishkan for the first time by himself (Exodus 40).

Why am I comparing the Mishkan with my own humble sukkah? Technically, Sukkot isn’t about the Mishkan but rather, it’s about the tents the Israelites lived in during their time in the desert. We celebrate God’s provision in our lives in remembrance of how He provided everything the Children of Israel needed for their forty year trek through the Sinai. However, something Rabbi Heschel said in his aforementioned book (p. 287) made me compare the two.

Just as man is not alone in what he is, he is not alone in what he does. A mitsvah is an act which God and man have in common. We say “Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His mitsvot.” They obligate Him as well as us. Their fulfillment is in not valued as an act performed in spite of “the evil drive,” but as an act of communion with Him. The spirit of mitsvah is togetherness. We know, He is a partner to our act.

When I read that passage, I recalled the effort of putting up my own small sukkah and realized I really wasn’t alone in constructing it. God was there with me. Although, as a Gentile, I’m not obligated to obey the commandments associated with Sukkot, my wife and children are Jewish and as  husband and father, the responsibility to build the sukkah is mine. I also have a number of reasons to associate Jesus Christ with Sukkot as living water (John 7:37-41) and as a living sukkah.

The word was made flesh and dwelled in our midst. We have beheld his glory, like the glory of the father’s only son, great in kindness and truth. –John 1:14 (DHE Gospels)

My earlier quotes from Heschel compared the Torah we have on earth and the “heavenly Torah”. This comparison is a “cautionary tale” of how we risk greatly misunderstanding God’s Word by treating as if it were only the inspired writings of men. In Jewish mystic belief, there is a Torah that we cannot possibly access; the Torah that was used by God to speak the universe into existence, the Torah that had to be reduced and “clothed” in “commonplace garments” just to exist in the world of human beings.

Shekinah and the MishkanWhile this is midrash as much as believing that angels must somehow “transmogrify” in order to come to earth from heaven, it illustrates what I see as the relationship between one small sukkah and the Mishkan that amazingly contained God’s Shekhinah, the reduced and “humbled” essence of the Creator that can be expressed physically in our reality. I mentioned in my previous blog post that the “intent is to fill our sukkah, not only with heavenly guests, but with earthly ones as well, creating a meeting point and a joining between heaven and earth in joy and peace, in anticipation of the days of the Moshiach.”

Today, based on what I’m learning, I could say that God was my “partner” in building my sukkah, even as He “partnered” with Moses in building the Mishkan. After Moses (and God) finished building the Mishkan, something amazing happened.

Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. Moses could not enter the tent of meeting because the cloud had settled on it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. –Exodus 40:34-35

In my previous blog, I suggested that we might “bend the rules” of the Ushpizin just a bit, to include an invitation for the Master to enter the sukkah, but if God helped Moses construct the Mishkan and then inhabited it, maybe I can dare hope that after God helped me build my sukkah, some part of Him rested, not just over it, but inside of it.

Until I read Heschel, I always thought of commandments as something God gave people so that people could obey God. Now I realize that the mitzvot belong to Him and well as us and that when we obey God, we are also working with God. I hesitate to say that God is “obligated” to obey His own mitzvot, but I can accept that for our sake, He voluntarily cooperates with us to do most of the “heavy lifting”. In retrospect, this is probably absolutely necessary not only to enable us to obey Him, but for us to even have the awareness of a relationship with God.

The little sukkah sitting in my backyard is dressed in plain and commonplace garments, made out of the ordinary materials of the world. By appearances, it’s nothing special and there’s nothing about it to attract the eye (Isaiah 53:2). But as the prophet Isaiah teaches, appearances can be deceiving and what is dressed in rags on earth is adorned in shimmering gold and bright linen in heaven.

They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand. Then they knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him. –Matthew 27:28-31

I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone like a son of man, dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. The hair on his head was white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance. –Revelation 1:12-16

Chag Sameach Sukkot!

Addendum:

Read more about the inspiration of Sukkot at Torah.org.

And as much as I hate to get “political” here, because it’s relevant, there seems to be a Sukkot sub-theme running in the “Occupy Wall Street” movement called Occupy Judaism. Not the most joyous of news, but it’s part of the “plain clothes” world that we live in.

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The Empty Sukkah

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The empty sukkahRabbi Pinchas of Koretz was a spiritual giant in his generation. At first, his greatness was mostly unknown to his contemporaries, but he had no regrets; indeed, it suited him just fine. He spent his days and nights in Torah-study, prayer and meditation. Rarely was he interrupted.

But then, the word began to spread, perhaps from fellow disciples of Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, that Rabbi Pinchas was very, very special. People began to visit him on a regular basis, seeking his guidance, requesting his support, asking for his prayers and beseeching his blessing. The more he helped them, the more they came. The trickle to his door became a stream and the stream became a daily flood of personal stories and requests for help.

Rabbi Pinchas was overwhelmed. He felt he was no longer serving G-d properly, because he no longer had sufficient time to study, pray and meditate as he should. He didn’t know what to do.

-Rabbi Yerachmiel Tilles
“The Unpopular Tzaddik”
Chabad.org

Rabbi Tilles goes on to tell the story of Rabbi Pinchas and the disastrous results of his desire to, in essence, be left alone with God. Rabbi Pinchas forgot that he was put into a world full of people and as much as people can be distracting at times, we ignore them at our own peril.

As the story goes, Rabbi Pinchas asked for and received a boon from Heaven, that people no longer be attracted to him in the slightest. However, there is a saying: “Be careful what you ask for.” Sukkot is a terrible time to be alone for a Jew.

In those days in Europe, people desiring an invitation to a meal would stand in the back of the shul upon the completion of the prayers. The householders would then invite them upon their way out, happy to so easily accomplish the mitzvah of hospitality. Rabbi Pinchas, unfortunately, did not find it so simple. Even those without a place to eat and desperate for an invitation to a sukkah in which to enjoy the festival meal, turned him down without a second thought. Eventually, everyone who needed a place and everyone who wanted a guest were satisfied, except for the tzaddik, Rabbi Pinchas.

He trudged home alone, saddened and a bit shaken up at the realization that he might never have another guest, not even for the special festive meal of the First Night of Sukkos. Alas, that too was part of the price of his freedom…. It was worth it, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it? Rabbi Levi Avtzon tells a different story about Sukkot, why it exists, and why we are here.

Thousands of Chabad rabbis and students go out to the streets in Sukkah Mobiles to meet fellow Jews and offer them the opportunity to shake the Four Kinds (“Please don’t shake them too hard!”), grab a bite in the sukkah, and just have a nice friendly chat (“You’re from Australia? How awesome! I have a cousin there. Do you know him?”). Unity.

At the core of the almost seven billion human beings walking the beautiful earth is a quest for unity: unity and harmony within ourselves, unity with our fellows and environment, and unity with our Creator. This quest can be covered with dust, concealed by hate and stigma, obscured by ego, and masked by bloodshed—but the quest never dies, and never will die until we bring peace and harmony to our world.

For seven days a year we dedicate ourselves to bringing unity to our world. On this holiday, united we sit.

What could have been more wrong than for Rabbi Pinchas to create a situation where he was completely denied unity and fellowship with other Jews at so joyous a season? And yet, was there a silver lining to his cloud? For a moment, it seemed so.

Pausing just inside the entrance to his sukkah, Rabbi Pinchas began to chant the traditional invitation to the Ushpizin, the seven heavenly guests who visit every Jewish sukkah. Although not many are privileged to actually see these exalted visitors, Rabbi Pinchas was definitely one of the select few who had this experience on an annual basis. This year, he raised his eyes and saw the Patriarch Abraham–the first of the Ushpizin and therefore the honored guest for the first night of the festival–standing outside the door of the sukkah, keeping his distance.

Rabbi Pinchas cried out to him in anguish: “Father Abraham! Why do you not enter my sukkah? What is my sin?”

Replied the patriarch: “I am the embodiment of Chessed, serving G-d through deeds of loving-kindness. Hospitality was my specialty. I will not join a table where there are no guests.”

The story of Rabbi Pinchas ends on a happy note. After much prayer, Heaven hears and answers and “throngs of people were again finding their way to his door; seeking his guidance, asking his support, requesting his prayers, and beseeching his blessing.” While by nature, Rabbi Pinchas was a solitary and studious person, thanks to Father Abraham, the interruption of his most cherish activities was no longer seen as a problem.

Chabad's mobileI find it interesting that Rabbi Avtzon characterized Sukkot as symbolic of “seven billion human beings walking the beautiful earth is a quest for unity: unity and harmony within ourselves, unity with our fellows and environment, and unity with our Creator.” This illustrates that somehow, it is not only the Jewish people who seek God, it is not only the Jewish people who seek His shelter, and it is not only the Jewish people who seek unity. Sukkot represents the quest for world-wide unity under God, and yet like Rabbi Pinchas, some of us will sit in our sukkah alone.

Rabbi Pinchas created his own problem and thanks to a lesson from Heaven, he also resolved it. Tonight begins the seven days of Sukkot (I put up the family sukkah in my backyard last night) and the world’s population of Jews (and a few Gentiles like me) will be entering a sukkah somewhere, taking meals, hopefully sharing company with many guests, and maybe even sleeping within their make-shift tents, relying on God to keep out the wind and rain in memory of the same shelter He provided to the Children of Israel in the desert.

The empty sukkah of Rabbi Pinchas was a bitter thing and even Abraham would not enter, but for those who are alone through circumstances or by choice, there is still some benefit in being an open and empty container.

The beginning of all paths and the foundation of all ascents is to open yourself to receive from Above.

And how do you receive from Above? By being empty—because a full vessel cannot receive, while an empty vessel has a hollow to be filled.

That is why we must run from depression; because a depressed person is so filled with his own self-pity, there is no room left to receive anything, no opening for life to enter.

But a humble, open spirit is vibrant with joy.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Joyful Emptyness”
Meditations on Happiness”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

Chag Sameach Sukkot!

And if you’re wondering about the “Sukkah-on-wheels” as shown in the second image in this blog post, learn about the world’s largest mobile sukkah at COLLive.com (rumor has it that even Spider-Man gets into the swing of things).