בַּסֻּכֹּ֥ת תֵּשְׁב֖וּ שִׁבְעַ֣ת יָמִ֑ים כׇּל־הָֽאֶזְרָח֙ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל יֵשְׁב֖וּ בַּסֻּכֹּֽת׃ לְמַ֘עַן֮ יֵדְע֣וּ דֹרֹֽתֵיכֶם֒ כִּ֣י בַסֻּכּ֗וֹת הוֹשַׁ֙בְתִּי֙ אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל בְּהוֹצִיאִ֥י אוֹתָ֖ם מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרָ֑יִם
“And you will dwell in booths for seven days, all the citizens of Israel will dwell in booths, so that future generations will know that I caused the Israelites to live in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt.”
—Leviticus 23: 42-3
Today is the first day of the fall festival of Sukkot. Even as we decorate our sukkahs, prepare festive meals, and celebrate the joyous occasion of this holiday, our biblical text reminds us of the deep and tender roots of this holiday’s origins. We dwell in the sukkah not only to celebrate the beginning of a new season and a new year, but also to remember our parting from slavery, our wandering in the desert, and the uncertainty that our Israelite ancestors experienced in the wilderness.
I so deeply love this aspect of our tradition—our ability to acknowledge both our heartfelt joy and a feeling of uprootedness all at the same time, to be able to hold more than one feeling in any given moment. Only a few days ago did we complete the rituals of our Days of Awe—a time when we celebrate the joy and blessing of a promising new year while we also review the shortcomings and pains of our past. Indeed, Sukkot is referred to as z’man simchteinu (“the season of our rejoicing”), a reminder of the blessing of fall, the gifts of a harvest season, the joys of time spent with family. And of course, it is a time to acknowledge the temporary nature of everything; the beautiful but flimsy sukkah reminds us just how fragile and precarious life can be.
On Sukkot, we read from the book of Ecclesiastes: “To everything there is a season” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). May we allow ourselves to be present in the moment, to fully witness with awe the beauty of this time of year and the sweetness of this festival, even though—or perhaps especially because—we know it will only last a week. May we make space, as our tradition teaches us, to engage in the fullness and complexity of our feelings and experiences and to offer our loved ones the gift of sharing openly and deeply with us, as well.
Wishing you a chag sameach, a joyful, deep, and enriching Sukkot experience.
—Cantor Emma Lutz