SUKKOT: Z’Man Simchateynu -- Our Festival of Rejoicing
Some backstory and Talmudic trivia


Hot on the heels of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur comes Sukkot – one of Judaism’s three Pilgrimage Festivals -- those times when the Israelites traveled to the Temple in Jerusalem bringing harvest gifts in gratitude to God. Of the three Festivals (Pesach and Shavuot being the other two), Sukkot was, by all accounts, the most popular.

For the how and whys of Sukkot celebration, look to Leviticus. “After the fall harvest, take fruits of goodly trees (etrog), branches of palm (lulav), boughs of thick trees (myrtle) and willows from the brook, and rejoice before the Lord seven days.” We are also told to dwell in booths -- as did the children of Israel when they came out of Egypt -- and to celebrate Sukkot by observing three mitzvot: rejoice during the holiday, gather the four species and live in the sukkah.

Our early ancestors rejoiced to a fault. They gathered in the Sanctuary at Shiloh on Mt. Ephraim, danced in the vineyards and drank copiously of their harvested grape. (Now we understand why those provincial sanctuaries were called the high places . . .)

Eventually, these unbridled revels were replaced by slightly more sober celebrations in the Temple in Jerusalem -- to which pilgrims came in camel caravans from Egypt, by boat from distant cities in the Mediterranean. They arrived on donkeys and in chariots. But those who traveled on foot won the most points, and it is said that Rabbi Hillel, himself, hoofed it all the way from Babylon.

The trip was clearly worth it. Once in Jerusalem, the dazzled pilgrims saw wooden booths on every roof. Thousands of men paraded through the streets, each carrying his own lulav. Silver trumpets blew. Priests with golden pitchers poured water on the altar. Flames from golden menorahs – 150 feet tall -- lit up the Temple area until Jerusalem glowed. Learned men juggled flaming torches, somersaulted, sang with harps and cymbals and (understandably . . .) nobody could sleep in all of Jerusalem the entire week of Sukkot. No wonder the rabbis said, “Whoever has not witnessed this celebration has not seen true rejoicing.”

FYI, to receive a five-star rating, a lulav must meet excruciatingly high standards for size, freshness, the way the willow and myrtle are wrapped to the palm frond, etc., and a lulav of dubious character needs rabbinic approval before it can be used. The etrog must be equally gorgeous. Free from blemish with an impeccable stem. An etrog with a ding in it is pasul -- invalid -- and condolences to the man whose etrog’s stem falls off before Sukkot is over.

Once you get your hands on the perfect etrog and lulav, they must be used (not just admired), held in specific ways, shook and pointed in all directions according to a strict pattern. This practice, some say, is left over from a pagan attempt to summon the four winds or bring rain. Pagan or not, the lulav and etrog are essential to the celebration of Sukkot.

Want to build a sukkah? The rabbis (bless their hearts) drew specific blueprints.

According to the Talmud, a sukkah must be X number of cubits tall by Y number of handbreadths wide with Z number of planks and beams. It can be no higher than 30 feet (we shouldn’t become haughty). It must be portable (we shouldn’t become set in our ways and inflexible). It must have at least three walls, plus a roof of leaves or branches that allows more shade than sun and through which the stars can be seen (since all blessings come from heaven). The Talmud offers options for building a sukkah on top of a wagon, on the deck of a ship or on a camel’s back. It also gives decorating tips, advice on how to sleep and eat in the (including ways to entertain the Ushpizin -- Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joseph and David -- the seven guests who see but are never seen) plus procedures to follow in rotten weather. A sukkah, remember, is to rejoice in -- not to suffer in -- therefore tradition decrees, “He who eats in the sukkah when it is raining is nothing but an ignoramus.” Or words to that effect.

Traditional wisdom says we live in booths during Sukkot because the Israelites lived in booths during their Exodus wanderings. “But,” argue pragmatic scholars, “desert nomads live in goatskin tents, not in wooden lean-tos with leafy roofs. Therefore, the sukkah is not connected to our wanderings in the desert. It’s merely an echo of our agricultural past, when harvesters lived in temporary huts in the fields.”

Well, pooh on scholars with no souls. To paraphrase Theodore Gaster, the myths woven around traditions -- even when historically inaccurate -- still have validity if people choose to believe them. So if we choose to believe that the sukkah symbolizes God’s protection of our people in the wilderness, or that it symbolizes the protection God continues to give us, what could it hurt.

So during this week of rejoicing, observe the traditions as best you can.
And during this week (and every week . . . ) pray that God may spread His sukkat shalom over us, over all of Israel, and over Jerusalem.

Amen.