Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Acquiring a Sukkah Consciousness

Imagine this: The Jewish people finally escape from the Land of Egypt. They begin a long, arduous journey through the desert, a journey into the unknown, fraught with dangers, tremendous difficulty and unexpected challenges. A journey that encompasses the full spectrum of emotions; fear and happiness, triumph and despair; doubt and optimism. It was truly a journey of life!
What allowed our ancestors to maintain their optimism in the face of such enormous challenge was the gift of an ongoing experience of the Almighty’s presence. Throughout their travels, God hovered over them in a cloud, allowing them to feel safe amidst danger, comforted amidst uncertainty, and ultimately joyful. Even though they slept in flimsy huts, they knew they were not alone, and although they were human beings with genuine human emotions (and they rebelled and quarreled, just like us enlightened, modern Jews), they functioned from a foundation of belief in the ongoing protection from a loving Father in heaven.
Today we don’t sleep in flimsy huts. Most of us abide comfortably in large homes made of wood and stone, behind protective fences and security alarms. We have ample food to eat, heat and air conditioning to protect us from the elements, and closets full of clothes. We can be reached by anyone at anytime within a breath and we can manage our most important affairs in the palms of our hands with our I-Phones, I-Pads or Blackberries. And yet we have never felt more vulnerable. With all the unparalleled technology, medical advancements and luxuries of every sort, we are anxious and uncertain, and rarely joyful.
Both my husband and I try to teach without handwringing about all the “evils of the world out there.” We both feel that Judaism speaks for itself, and it doesn’t need to be contrasted to the “big bad modern world” to make a powerful case. Yet, we both see clearly that, more than anything, this generation is characterized by a lack of menuchat ha nefesh, peace in the soul. Sometimes it comes from a paralyzing financial uncertainty, other times from marital strife or frustration in parenting. Many people feel alone and feel fundamentally misunderstood, others have come to define themselves through their jobs and bank accounts, and with those diminished, feel diminished as well. Too many people equate their possessions, degrees, or job status with their sense of self worth. Many feel stressed, depressed, helpless or angry, and if they don’t, they are intimately connected with someone who does.
Enter the holiday of Sukkot, which, more than anything, is about vulnerability, joy and faith.
The vulnerability part is clear: the Torah tells us for one week we are to move out of our solid homes into temporary structures, with organic roofs through which one can see the stars. We are exposed to heat, cold and rain. We talk in the sukkah, we read and nap in the sukkah, and some sleep overnight in the sukkah (I guess you could text in the sukkah too, but I would try to avoid it). No matter how large and lavish the sukkah, dwelling in a sukkah drives home our vulnerability to life’s vicissitudes.
In the fast-paced, competitive and materialistic world we live in, it seems like many of us feel as vulnerable as sukkah dwellers. And yet, the vulnerability we feel today is the diametric opposite of the emotion produced by the sukkah’s vulnerability.
Amongst all the festivals, Sukkot alone is designated as the “time of our joy.” It is a mitzvah to be in a conscious state of joy throughout the week of living in this temporary, organic structure. Somehow the Torah is telling us that true joy is the result of vulnerability. How can this be?
The holiday of Sukkot is an exercise of faith. True faith is not the belief that, because God runs the world, everything will turn out exactly the way we want it to. True faith is that because God runs the world, however things turn out, both in the world at large and in our own private world, is an expression of His love for us and is for our ultimate good.
When we leave our cozy homes to dwell in the sukkah, we leave behind the illusion of security that our homes give us and enter the true security; the comfort and joy of dwelling with the Divine Presence. While rain may drench the sukkah, and winds may tear at the walls, “sukkah consciousness” is the awareness of the proximity of God, the awareness that we are never alone, and the knowledge that our whole life, with all its challenges, is a tailor-made gift designed uniquely for each of us from a God whose love for us is absolute and unconditional.
According to Jewish law, a sukkah must have at least three walls. It is as if God is wrapping His arms around you, welcoming you with His embrace. Come, step out of your home and all the anxieties that lie within. Enter a sukkat shalom, a sukkah of peace. Sit inside its walls, take a moment and look around. See the blessings that surround you. Know the Almighty is in charge. Glimpse the night sky and know He loves you. Experience the emotion the Torah calls true joy; the joy that comes from the faith that we are never alone.