Rethinking Sukkot: Vulnerability

We think of our willingness to be emotionally exposed, to be open to wounding and healing, as signs of true intimacy. But what if our wounds are physical or carry with them economic, social, or emotional risks to ourselves and those we love?

1. Dwell in the Sukkah

ויקרא כ״ג:מ״ב

(מב) בַּסֻּכֹּ֥ת תֵּשְׁב֖וּ שִׁבְעַ֣ת יָמִ֑ים כׇּל־הָֽאֶזְרָח֙ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל יֵשְׁב֖וּ בַּסֻּכֹּֽת׃

Leviticus 23:42

(42) You shall live in booths seven days; all citizens in Israel shall live in booths,

ספר הזהר, אמור מ״ג:ער״ו-ער״ז

(ז) תָּא חֲזֵי, בְּשַׁעֲתָא דְּבַר נָשׁ יָתִיב בְּמָדוֹרָא דָּא, צִלָּא דִּמְהֵימְנוּתָא, שְׁכִינְתָּא פַּרְסָא גַּדְפָהָא עָלֵיהּ מִלְּעֵילָּא, וְאַבְרָהָם וַחֲמִשָּׁה צַדִּיקַיָּיא אָחֳרָנִין שַׁוְיָין מָדוֹרֵיהוֹן עִמֵּיהּ. אָמַר רִבִּי אַבָּא, אַבְרָהָם וַחֲמִשָּׁה צַדִּיקַיָּיא, וְדָוִד מַלְכָּא, שַׁוְיָין מָדוֹרֵיהוֹן עִמֵּיהּ. הֲדָא הוּא דִּכְתִּיב, בַּסֻּכּוֹת תֵּשְׁבוּ שִׁבְעַת יָמִים. שִׁבְעַת יָמִים כְּתִיב, וְלָא בְּשִׁבְעַת יָמִים. כְּגַוְונָא דָּא כְּתִיב, (שמות ל״א:י״ז) כִּי שֵׁשֶׁת יָמִים עָשָׂה יְיָ' אֶת הַשָּׁמַיִם וְגוֹ'. וּבָעֵי בַּר נָשׁ לְמֶחְדֵּי בְּכָל יוֹמָא וְיוֹמָא, בְּאַנְפִּין נְהִירִין, בְּאוּשְׁפִּיזִין אִלֵּין דְּשַׁרְיָין עִמֵּיהּ.

(ח) וְאָמַר רִבִּי אַבָּא, כְּתִיב בַּסֻּכּוֹת תֵּשְׁבוּ שִׁבְעַת יָמִים, וּלְבָתַר יֵשְׁבוּ בַּסֻּכּוֹת. בְּקַדְמִיתָא תֵּשְׁבוּ, וּלְבָתַר יֵשְׁבוּ. אֶלָּא, קַדְמָאָה לְאוּשְׁפִּיזֵי. תִּנְיָינָא, לִבְנֵי עָלְמָא. קַדְמָאָה לְאוּשְׁפִּיזֵי, כִּי הָא דְּרַב הַמְנוּנָא סָבָא, כַּד הֲוָה עָיֵיל לַסּוּכָּה הֲוָה חַדֵּי, וְקָאִים עַל פִּתְחָא לַסּוּכָּה מִלְּגָאו, וְאָמַר נְזַמֵּן לְאוּשְׁפִּיזִין. מְסַדֵּר (נ"א נסדר) פָּתוֹרָא, וְקָאִים עַל רַגְלוֹהִי, וּמְבָרֵךְ, וְאוֹמֵר בַּסֻּכּוֹת תֵּשְׁבוּ שִׁבְעַת יָמִים. תִּיבוּ אוּשְׁפִּיזִין עִלָּאִין, תִּיבוּ. תִּיבוּ אוּשְׁפִּיזֵי מְהֵימְנוּתָא, תִּיבוּ. אָרִים (ס"א אסחי) יְדוֹי, וְחַדֵּי, וְאָמַר זַכָּאָה חוּלָּקָנָא, זַכָּאָה חוּלָקֵיהוֹן דְּיִשְׂרָאֵל, דִּכְתִּיב, (דברים לב) כִּי חֵלֶק יְיָ' עַמּוֹ וְגוֹ', וַהֲוָה יָתִיב.

Zohar, Emor 43:276-277

(7) Observe that when a man sits in this abode of the shadow of faith, the Shekinah spreads her wings over him from above and Abraham and five other righteous ones make their abode with him.’ R. Abba said: ‘Abraham and five righteous ones and David with them. Hence it is written, “In booths ye shall dwell seven days”, as much as to say, “Ye seven days shall dwell in booths”, and a man should rejoice each day of the festival with these guests who abide with him.’

(8) R. Abba further pointed out that first it says “ye shall dwell” and then “they shall dwell”. The first refers to the guests, and therefore Rab Hamnuna the Elder, when he entered the booth, used to stand at the door inside and say, Let us invite the guests and prepare a table, and he used to stand up and greet them, saying, In booths ye shall dwell, O seven days. Sit, most exalted guests, sit; sit, guests of faith, sit. He would then raise his hands in joy and say, Happy is our portion, happy is the portion of Israel, as it is written, “For the portion of the Lord is his people”, and then he took his seat.

Commentary: Rabbi Ben Greenberg

"The Zohar envisions that a visit by ushpizin is an event that can also bring us a sense of peace, comfort, and safety. The text of the Zohar makes it clear, initially, that their visit requires neither an invitation nor a blessing on our part. But the Zohar then shares the custom of Rabbi Ham’nuna the Elder who would invite these special guests into his sukkah, teaching us a powerful lesson by transforming a passive event into an active one.

Rabbi Ham’nuna demonstrates that we have the power to invite and, hence, also the power to say no. Just as we can invite someone, whether Abraham and Sarah or a neighbor or family member, we can also choose not invite them. We have the power not only to say yes but also the power to say no.

On the holiday of Sukkot we model what it means to have a community, a set of relationships, and an environment that is open and inviting but at the same time is also safe and peaceful. It is fairly easy to extend invitations to others into our sukkahs and into our lives; it is harder to learn how to draw boundaries and say no to people who make us feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

The teaching of Rabbi Ham’nuna in the Zohar is our call to do so."

Rabbi Ben Greenberg is the director of adult engagement at Central Synagogue in New York City. He is a member of the Clergy Task Force and received his smicha from Yeshivat Chovevei Torah. Previously he has worked at UJA-Federation of New York, as a congregational rabbi in Colorado and as the campus rabbi at Harvard Hillel.

Conversations

In the first paragraph of his commentary, Rabbi Greenberg speaks of transforming a passive event into an active one. Can you think of other situations in your life that are calling out for you to be more active than passive? What’s your hunch about how to begin making that change?
Think of a family simcha [joyous occasion] for which you’ve shared responsibility. Did you have any differences of opinion with a family member about whom to invite? about whom you felt obligated to invite? How did you resolve these differences? How would you go about preparing that guest list now?
What has helped you to cultivate what Rabbi Greenberg calls “the power to say no” in any aspect of your life?

Commentary: Rabbi Sean Gorman

"One delightful sukkah custom is to invite special guests [ushpizin, an Aramaic word for guests] to join us, at least in our imaginations. Traditional ushpizin were illustrious men from our tradition (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joseph, and King David) but now the list has expanded to include heroines from the Bible such as Sarah, Miriam, Hannah, Deborah, and Queen Esther. Some families encourage their own flesh-and-blood dinner guests to come prepared to introduce and share a personal ushpiz, especially what it is about them that is so inspiring.

With the addition of ushpizin, Sukkot becomes a holiday to tap into people as sources of inspiration. Tucked into a sukkah, we can also think about what is inspiring about the people sitting around its table and more broadly about whom we invite into our homes and choose to break bread with. Further, we have the chance to think about, and share with others, those who inspire us to be our best selves. And if we’re in a relationship with someone who does not inspire us, we can use this special time to confront that difficult fact. Sharing a meal in a sukkah with living people – and sharing with those living people the memories of those who have inspired us –offers a very special type of intimacy."

Rabbi Sean Gorman serves as the rabbi of Pride of Israel Synagogue in Toronto and is a U.S. Navy chaplain currently in reserve status. He is a member of JWI’s Clergy Task Force on Domestic Abuse in the Jewish Community.

Conversations

Whom would you invite as your ushpiz for the kind of sukkah meal described above?
There’s vulnerable and there’s vulnerable. Are you comfortable sharing memories of those you’ve lost, especially among those with whom you’re currently sharing your life?
Our tradition sees a sukkah as both fragile and protecting. Does this contradiction resonate in your life?

2. Haskiveinu

סידור אשכנז, ימי חול, מעריב, ברכות קריאת שמע, השכיבנו ב׳

הַשְׁכִּיבֵֽנוּ יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ לְשָׁלוֹם וְהַעֲמִידֵֽנוּ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ לְחַיִּים וּפְרוֹשׂ עָלֵֽינוּ סֻכַּת שְׁלוֹמֶֽךָ וְתַקְּ֒נֵֽנוּ בְּעֵצָה טוֹבָה מִלְּ֒פָנֶֽיךָ וְהוֹשִׁיעֵֽנוּ לְמַֽעַן שְׁמֶֽךָ וְהָגֵן בַּעֲדֵֽנוּ וְהָסֵר מֵעָלֵֽינוּ אוֹיֵב דֶּֽבֶר וְחֶֽרֶב וְרָעָב וְיָגוֹן וְהָסֵר שָׂטָן מִלְּ֒פָנֵֽינוּ וּמֵאַחֲרֵֽינוּ וּבְצֵל כְּנָפֶֽיךָ תַּסְתִּירֵֽנוּ כִּי אֵל שׁוֹמְ֒רֵֽנוּ וּמַצִּילֵֽנוּ אָֽתָּה כִּי אֵל מֶֽלֶךְ חַנּוּן וְרַחוּם אָֽתָּה וּשְׁמוֹר צֵאתֵֽנוּ וּבוֹאֵֽנוּ לְחַיִּים וּלְשָׁלוֹם מֵעַתָּה וְעַד עוֹלָם: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְהֹוָה שׁוֹמֵר עַמּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל לָעַד:

Siddur Ashkenaz, Weekday, Maariv, Blessings of the Shema, Second Blessing after Shema 2

Adonoy our God; make us lie down in peace, our King, raise us again to life Spread over us the shelter of Your peace, and direct us to better ourselves through Your good counsel; and deliver us for Your Name’s sake. Shield us, and remove from us enemies, pestilence, sword, famine and sorrow. Remove the adversary from before us and from behind us, and shelter us in the shadow of Your wings. For, Almighty, You are our Protector and Rescuer, For, Almighty You are a gracious and merciful King. Guard our going out and our coming in for life and peace for now forever. Blessed are You, Adonoy, Who guards His people Israel forever.

Commentary: Cantor Deborah Katchko-Gray

“Grant that we lie down in peace, and raise us up, our God to life renewed. Spread over us the sukkah of your peace…”

"The phrase sukkat shalom is usually translated as “shelter of peace.” A huppah, the Jewish wedding canopy, shares this imagery – a shelter of peace for the couple and their inner circle. The sukkah and the huppah are intentionally left open, the sukkah in front and the huppah on all sides. In addition, the huppah’s total openness can signify the importance of surrounding the couple on all sides with love. Mention is not made that this new home will also be incredibly vulnerable – open to criticism and meddling, hurt and pain.

We all enter into marriage hoping we’ve found our bashert, “the one.” But what if our partner turns out not to be who we thought he or she was? What if we realize that behavior toward us that at first seemed questionable but manageable is actually abusive? What should we do with our feelings of compassion for the abuser and our wishes for that person to be healed – while we continue to be hurt? We usually don’t ask such questions until the problem has grown into a serious reality. We tend to wait for abuse to turn around on its own or for the will of the abuser to change. It is difficult to find the strength and courage to move on, to walk away and find the peace, dignity and compassion that we (and our children) deserve.

Being compassionate and hopeful are worthy ideals. But when these ideals and reality are in conflict, it is better to choose life, to choose the inner voice that says you deserve safety, love, and peace. Just as the time we spend in a sukkah shouldn’t be dangerous, so the life we share as a couple who have chosen to stand under a huppah should be spent as if in a shelter of peace."

Cantor Katchko-Gray, a fourth generation cantor, serves Temple Shearith Israel in Ridgefield, CT. She is an International Vice President of Cantors for Women of the Wall, the founder of the Women Cantors’ Network in 1982, and a member of JWI’s Clergy Task Force.

Commentary: Rabbi Rachel Ain

"You and I belong to a tradition that, every autumn, makes a fascinating shift in its relationship to God. From Rosh Hashanah through Yom Kippur, we are meant to feel judged by God; we pray for forgiveness and mercy. Immediately following Yom Kippur, we begin building a sukkah, a special symbol of protected space, and our image of God becomes one of Protector.

Being protected, nurtured and cherished, is at odds with being judged. Our culture however is judgmental, which is often reflected in our own relationships with the people we care about. We get married under a chuppah, the wedding canopy that symbolizes our new home, and a reminder of God’s protection. Like the sukkah, the chuppah is open, fragile and temporary, and is a reminder that we should cherish our relationship.

Although we don’t get married every day and we only build a sukkah once a year, we’re fortunate that the sukkah appears in every evening prayer service, on Shabbat and weekdays. During the Hashkiveinu prayer in which we recite the text quoted above after the extended Shema section, we ask to live under God’s shelter of peace (sukkat shalom). This image of God can be comforting as can the notion that, just as our ancestors built temporary shelters during their wilderness journey as a symbol of God’s protection, we still do the same in our backyards and on our balconies.

The holiday of Sukkot dares us to hold on to memories of the coziness and sweetness of sitting in a sukkah, dares us to allow ourselves to turn away from judgment and enter into partnerships based on trust and the expectation of protection. The Hashkiveinu dares us to remember all this, always – every night in fact. During this Sukkot may we be reminded of the places and people in our lives that serve as protection for us and may we find the courage to be protectors more often than judges of others."

Rabbi Rachel Ain serves as the rabbi of Sutton Place Synagogue in New York City and was a member of JWI’s Clergy Task Force on Domestic Abuse in the Jewish Community. Most recently she was the senior director for National Young Leadership of the Jewish Federations of North America. She also served as the senior rabbi of Congregation Beth Sholom-Chevra Shas, a Conservative synagogue in Syracuse, N.Y., from 2004 to 2011.

Conversations

It’s exhausting and demoralizing to feel judged all the time or even some of the time. In work and in personal relationships, exposure to critical people and those with exacting demands always takes its toll. If you’re facing this situation now, are you able to step back and ask yourself – as if you were trying to protect someone else – what kind of help am I ready to seek?
If you’re not in the habit of reciting evening prayers, what might be a way to incorporate the ideas of the Hashkiveinu into your life?
Can you share how, if you’re feeling judgmental, how you manage to restrain yourself ? Are you more likely to offer judgment rather than support, [delete come here after ‘support’] in some situations more than in others? How do you, or can you, help create a shift in any aspect of your life toward nurture and protection?

3. Mashiv HaRuach U'Morid HaGashem

סידור אשכנז, ימי חול, תפילת שחרית, עמידה, גבורות ה׳

מַשִּׁיב הָרֽוּחַ וּמוֹרִיד הַגֶּֽשֶׁם:

Siddur Ashkenaz, Weekday, Shacharit, Amidah, Divine Might 5

Causer of the wind to blow and of the rain to fall.

Commentary: Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin

"The seasons in Israel are not like the seasons in America. Even more than differing by being hot or cold, they differ by being wet or dry. The land of Israel is sustained in the winter by renewing rains that recharge her cisterns, aquifers and rivers. But she is watered in the summer by the ephemeral gift of morning dew.

On Sukkot, as we enter winter and celebrate the harvest past, we pray that God returns the rains to replenish the land. On Passover, as we enter summer’s dry season, and begin the hard exodus from slavery through the wilderness, we pray that God gives us the blessing of dew. These prayers remind us that throughout our lives, our days are punctuated now with dustings, now with rushes, of the nourishing features of life.

Sometimes our spiritual nourishment comes in gushes – when we are smothered in a rain of mother’s kisses, encircled by a warm group of friends, graced with accolades for a job well done. Other times, though, we hit hard, dry spells. Perhaps it is because we are stuck in a barren wilderness of harshness. Perhaps it is because others just don’t have time to notice. Perhaps it is because of the lonely exodus out of a dark place that we have at long last had the courage to make. It is then that the dew, the tiny drops of life-giving moisture that seem to come out of nowhere and just as quickly disappear, can best be seen for the nourishment they give. The offer of a friend to visit and listen; the peace and safety in the house late at night; the hug of a trusting, grateful child; the care of a community; the freedom to begin again.

When the season of rain is not yet here, these delicate, daily doses of dew, the blessings that seem to come from thin air especially after the darkest nights, can nourish us and remind us that we are not alone, that we can hang on, day by day, until the nourishing rains return."

Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin founded the Baltimore Jewish Environmental Network and the Baltimore Orchard Project, which grows and distributes food to the needy. Her publications include The Tapestry of Jewish Time: A Spiritual Guide to Holidays and Life Cycle Events and Tears of Sorrow, Seeds of Hope: a Jewish Spiritual Companion for Infertility and Pregnancy Loss. A former member of JWI’s Clergy Task Force, she received her ordination from the Jewish Theological Seminary.

Conversations

Think about the ‘rain’ and ‘dew’ in your life, in the life of your partner, and in the life of your relationship. Are they provided by the same sources? Do they overlap? Would your lives improve if there were more overlap, or would it be detrimental?
Are you and your partner able to provide both ‘rain’ and ‘dew’ for one another?
Can you share how you’ve sustained yourself and/or others through life’s “hard, dry spells?”
At the end of Sukkot comes Sh’mini Atzeret, a day on which we specifically pray for nourishing rain, the kind that penetrates to the roots of crops and grasses. Do you have roots that need rain at this time?

To download a PDF of the complete guide, click here.

Clergy Task Force on Domestic Abuse

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Rethinking Sukkot: Women, Relationships, and Jewish Texts