Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz teaches that “whenever we remember a historical event, we connect ourselves not so much with the facts as with their psychological and emotional significance. If we want to understand the personal, inner meaning of a festival, we should look into its intrinsic spiritual essence. We should see the festivals as internal events in the life of the individual, which are reflections of the collective life of the nation. . .”

So, here we are during the interim days of Sukkot. Kol Ami celebrated joyfully in our communal sukkah built at Dann and Jenn Sklarew’s home. Jenn and Dan warmly and hospitably welcomed everyone to their home, and the community spiritually welcomed guests into the sukkah – this custom of welcoming guests is called ushpizin.

What is “inner, spiritual essence” of Sukkot that we can each individually take into our hearts and in which we can find personal meaning?

In the Book of Leviticus (Sefer Va-Yikra) 23:42-43, we are commanded by God: “You shall live in huts, seven days, all citizens of Israel (i.e., all Jews) shall live in huts in order that future generations may know that I made the Israelites people live in huts when I brought them out of the land of Egypt, I, the Lord am your God.”

Why huts? Why the sukkah? The sukkah is supposed to be fragile, with a roof that is open enough that we can see the stars and the sky. It must be a temporary dwelling – the wind can blow it down, the rains can come through it — it is impermanent, flimsy even — fragility is its essence.

The sukkah itself teaches us that our homes themselves are fragile, life is perilous, there is no safety in this structure — unless we hold on to each other for security and safety – we depend on each other, because the structure cannot protect us.

The sukkah itself teaches us that the world is a fragile place, often perilous, there is no safety on this planet — unless we protect it, unless we make it a place of security and safety – unless nations and peoples depend on each other, because the earth itself cannot nurture us, unless we nurture it.

“… so that future generations may know that I made the Israelite people live in huts when I brought them out of the land of Egypt…” The teaching of the sukkah and indeed of the festival of Sukkot is that with our freedom from slavery in Egypt came responsibility to protect our communities, our families, our planet, to keep it safe and secure by “seeking peace and pursuing it,” and that this responsibility was for then and for all future generations. This is the communal, spiritual meaning of this festival.

Rabbi Steinsaltz also teaches that “we should see the festivals as internal events in the life of the individual, which are reflections of the collective life of the nation. . .”

So, what is the inner spiritual meaning of this festival for the individual? Each of us is a universe unto ourselves, and yet we are not solitary beings, single atoms disconnected from the rest of humanity – “No man is an island,” John Donne once wrote. Indeed.

The sukkah teaches us that we can’t sit alone within it – we can’t be Jews alone – we must find community, and we must depend on others and let others depend on us. Kol Ami has most generously shown our beautiful and loving interdependence in the past few weeks by helping those in our community who are in need.

The sukkah also teaches us as individuals that each of us is a fragile being with our wounded places, our vulnerabilities, the places where our “flimsy structure” needs safety and security. We can use the imagery and symbolism of Sukkot to imagine and work toward an emotional state of being in which our own internal “house” is stronger and yet open to the stars and sky, to dreams and visions, to welcoming others into our “house” as companions along the journey. Each of us is leaving Egypt is one way or another — and as we dwell in our fragile “heart-huts,” we look to others who are our fellow travelers.

May the sukkah and Sukkot bring you joy and meaning this year and every year!

With many blessings,

Rabbi Leila