Sukkot

This great foundational principle we write with immense awe and reverence on the eve of Chag HaSukkot, beseeching the Holy One, blessed be He, to bestow boundless abundance and blessing from all celestial worlds at this exalted time when the gates of Heaven are wide open, when the power of spiritual influence upon all days of the year is extraordinarily potent.

The Gemara states (Sukkah 37b): Rabbi Yochanan taught that one waves the Four Species back and forth to Him to Whom the four directions of the world belong; one raises and lowers them to Him to Whom the heavens and the earth belong. In the West (the Land of Israel) they recited: Rabbi Hama bar Ukba said in the name of Rabbi Yose bar Hanina, one moves them forward and backward to hold back harmful winds, and raises and lowers them to hold back destructive dews.

It is brought from our holy Sages that a person must be pure and refined at the hour of taking the Lulav; otherwise, the mitzvah is liable to be disrupted by the Kelipot (forces of impurity), which are the harmful winds and destructive dews. In order to comprehend the depth of Hiddur (meticulous beautification) required for the Four Species and the profound honor we invest in them, we must understand a fundamental rule.

When a person passes away from this world, there is a profound obligation to honor the deceased. One may ask: what does honoring a corpse accomplish? He has already departed to the upper world, the World of Truth; what benefit can honoring him in this world of falsehood bring? The secret is that when honor is rendered to the deceased, the external forces of judgment cannot gain dominion over his soul and flee from him. This is the inner essence of eulogies and funeral honor: it surrounds the departed with spiritual protection so that negative forces fear to approach and inflict grief upon him.

From this we derive that when a person honors a mitzvah and beautifies it with meticulous elegance, he honors the mitzvah itself, thereby dispersing the Kelipot, the harmful spirits, and destructive forces. By cherishing the Lulav and waving it with devotion, he drives them away. When this commandment is observed with regal splendor, it provides a protective shield that halts harmful influences from affecting all the other mitzvot he performs throughout the year. Therefore the Torah emphasized Hiddur specifically regarding the Etrog (Leviticus 23:40): "And ye shall take you on the first day the fruit of goodly trees (Pri Etz Hadar)," for the beautification of this mitzvah shields and benefits all commandments.

From this principle we also understand why we are commanded to honor Talmidei Chachamim (Torah scholars), which repels negative forces from them by an a fortiori argument from the dead. Since our Sages taught (Sukkah 52a) that whoever is greater than his fellow possesses a greater inclination, and the evil inclination incites against scholars more than anyone else, they were granted special honor to shield them against spiritual adversaries. Sages were meticulous regarding their dignity because it served as an aid in their service of G-d; and when an exceptionally humble sage like Moshe Rabbeinu fled from honor, the honor pursued him for his own preservation.

This explains why Yitro, upon arriving in the wilderness, requested that Moshe Rabbeinu come out to greet him. A righteous man such as Yitro did not seek self-aggrandizement; rather, he knew that the forces of impurity were waging war against his spiritual transformation, and he sought the protective merit of the congregation coming out to meet him so he could prevail.

This illuminates the account in the Gemara (Sukkah 41b) concerning Rabban Gamliel, Rabbi Yehoshua, Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah, and Rabbi Akiva aboard a vessel, where only Rabban Gamliel possessed a Lulav, having purchased it for the staggering sum of one thousand zuz. He fulfilled the mitzvah, then gifted it to his peers. Why did Rabban Gamliel expend such a vast fortune? To teach us that Hiddur and financial sacrifice for a mitzvah infuse the soul with power to banish all harmful spiritual obstructions.

Sukkot is the festival from which we draw joy for the entire cycle of the year. By cherishing the Four Species, we clear the spiritual highway for holiness to rest upon us. Furthermore, on the eve of Sukkot, giving charity generously to the destitute is an indispensable part of paving this holy road, driving away all negative forces and inviting divine mercy, goodness, and blessing into our lives.

One must recognize that the spiritual status of the Sukkah is exceptionally elevated. In all other commandments, an individual must consciously intend to fulfill the mitzvah to reap its full effect; in the Sukkah, however, even if one entered without explicit holy intention, he receives reward and its transcendent holiness permeates his soul.

This resembles the Midrashic account (Bereishit Rabbah 65:22) regarding Yosef Meshita. When the Romans breached the Beit HaMikdash, they sought a Jew who would enter first to desecrate the Sanctuary and pillage it, promising him whatever vessel he retrieved. The wicked Yosef Meshita agreed, entered the Holy Temple, and emerged carrying the golden Menorah. The Romans told him: "Such an exquisite vessel is unfitting for a commoner; go in a second time and take something else for yourself."

Yosef Meshita refused, declaring: "Is it not enough that I angered my Creator once, that I should anger Him a second time?" Though threatened with torture and death, he refused to set foot inside the sanctuary to plunder again, dying as a martyr under horrific torment. The commentators ask: where did this wicked traitor derive the fortitude to endure martyrdom? The answer is that crossing the threshold of the Holy Temple even once exerted such an overwhelming spiritual aura upon him that it completely transformed his soul into sincere repentance. The Sukkah acts similarly: the mere physical presence within the "Shadow of Faith" (Tzila D'Mehemnuta) leaves an indelible spiritual mark upon a person's soul.

This contrasts with Torah study: when studying the Written Torah, reciting Tehillim, or reading the Prophets, a person receives divine reward even if he merely articulates the holy letters without full comprehension. In the Oral Torah, however, our Sages explain that one must seek to comprehend the logic and legal parameters. Yet sitting within the Sukkah bestows an immense spiritual reward simply by being sheltered under its roof.

Gazing into Ruach HaKodesh

The Mishnah states (Sukkah 3:9): Rabbi Akiva said, "I was gazing upon Rabban Gamliel and Rabbi Yehoshua; while all the people waved their Lulavim throughout the Hallel, they waved only at 'Ana Hashem Hoshia Na'." How could Rabbi Akiva have observed them, given that they lived during the era of the Beit HaMikdash before his prominence? Rabbi Yehoshua ben Hanania testified (Sukkah 53a): "During the Simchat Beit HaShoevah, our eyes saw no sleep," meaning they never succumbed to idleness, ascending perpetually in sanctity.

The Jerusalem Talmud (Sukkah 5:1) reveals that Jonah ben Amittai attained his prophetic spirit specifically from the transcendent rejoicing of the Simchat Beit HaShoevah. Rabbi Akiva, dancing with absolute purity in the ruins of the Temple era, merited through Ruach HaKodesh to gaze retroactively upon the exact motions of Rabban Gamliel and Rabbi Yehoshua. When one rejoices with pure intent during the seven days of Sukkot, he draws down spiritual joy that sustains his household for the entire year, just as the rejoicing of the seven days of Sheva Brachot infuses a lifetime of marital blessing.

The Talmud relates (Bava Batra 73b) that Rabbah bar Bar Hana once traveled on a sea voyage and came upon what appeared to be a peaceful, solid island. The travelers disembarked, set up their cooking fires, and began preparing food. Suddenly, the land beneath them shifted violently and plunged them into the depths: it was not an island, but the back of a colossal Leviathan that became agitated from the heat of the fire. Rabbah bar Bar Hana was on the verge of drowning until he grasped a floating plank of wood and survived.

This mystical passage contains an essential message: the open ocean represents the unpredictable currents of mortal life. A person sails through calm waters and assumes he has arrived at an unshakeable, secure island. He establishes himself in complacency, lightheartedly thinking that prosperity and health are guaranteed. Suddenly the ground collapses beneath his feet, reminding him that mortal existence is utterly frail. Only by clinging to the wooden plank — the Tree of Life (Etz Chaim Hi) of Torah and faith — does he survive.

This is the spiritual power of the Sukkah. While we are commanded: "And thou shalt rejoice in thy feast... and thou shalt be altogether joyful" (Deut. 16:14–15) — which the Vilna Gaon considered the most challenging of all 613 commandments because one is forbidden to harbor anger or irritation for seven full days — this joy is grounded in utter humility. Sukkot extracts a person from false self-reliance, teaching him that human life is transient, and that true serenity exists only when we place our trust in G-d: "Hope in the Lord; be strong, and let thy heart take courage; yea, hope thou in the Lord" (Psalms 27:14).

Avraham Avinu and the Tree

When Avraham Avinu welcomed the three angels disguised as desert wayfarers, he said (Genesis 18:4): "Let a little water, I pray you, be fetched, and wash your feet, and recline yourselves under the tree." Our Sages teach that in the merit of seating his guests under the tree, Avraham’s descendants were granted the mitzvah of the Sukkah.

Why did Avraham instruct them to rest beneath a rooted tree rather than building a kosher Sukkah, since branches attached to the soil are halachically invalid for Sechach? The Gemara explains (Avodah Zarah 3a) that in the World to Come, the nations will demand equal reward, arguing they were never given the commandments. G-d will grant them the easy mitzvah of Sukkah; yet when the sun beats down during the heat of Tammuz, they will kick the Sukkah in disgust and abandon it. Avraham anticipated this: suspecting his guests were pagan nomads, he deliberately seated them under a rooted tree rather than a kosher Sukkah, ensuring that the spiritual capacity to persevere inside a boiling Sukkah remained an exclusive legacy for the Jewish people.

Sukkot is an extraordinary festival whose surrounding spiritual light (Ohr HaMakif) encompasses the Sukkah and radiates protection throughout the year. On Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the prosecuting Satan waged war against us in the celestial courtroom. By the grace of G-d, through prayer, fasting, and the Ten Days of Repentance, the Jewish people emerged victorious, cleansed of their sins.

Realizing he suffered defeat during the Days of Awe, the Adversary regroups for a second assault during Sukkot. The Midrash explains (Tanchuma 22:1) on the verse "And ye shall take you on the first day" (Leviticus 23:40) that this is the first day for the reckoning of sins. The prosecuting angel seeks to catch people off-guard amidst the joyous festivities, attempting to gather new faults and pull a person down from his spiritual heights. We enter into the protective embrace of the Sukkah, whose surrounding divine light shields us from the adversary.

Sukkot represents the true new start of the year. Each night we welcome one of the Seven Ushpizin (Holy Shepherds) — Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, Moshe, Aharon, Yosef, and David — who paved the seven paths connecting Israel to the Throne of Glory. As we invoke their merits from below, they advocate for us from above, generating a continuous conduit of divine abundance.

Guard the Threshold of the Mind

The Gemara instructs (Yevamot 21a): "Make a fence around My charge" (Leviticus 18:30) — construct boundaries to safeguard the mind from intrusive, improper thoughts. The primordial serpent triumphed over Chava only because she introduced an opening by adding that one may not even touch the tree. The moment the serpent pushed her and she suffered no immediate harm, the boundary collapsed. As scripture warns: "Sin coucheth at the door" (Genesis 4:7). If an individual permits even a hairline fracture in his thoughts, the adversary enters and wreaks havoc.

The Ben Ish Chai related a parable of a miser who refused to buy a home. Anxious to wed, he approached a wealthy homeowner and offered money merely for the right to drive a single iron nail into the parlor wall. The homeowner agreed. Once the contract was sealed, the miser returned constantly to hang dirty clothes, smelly carcasses, and heavy sacks upon his nail, until the homeowner could no longer endure the nuisance and fled the house entirely, leaving the miser in total control.

The evil inclination requires only a single nail — one wayward thought, one cynical doubt regarding faith, kosher supervision, or Torah study. If a person permits that single nail to be hammered into his heart, the adversary systematically dismantles his spiritual world. Extinguish improper thoughts the instant they arise! In their stead, attune your heart to the heavenly voice that emanates daily from Mount Horeb proclaiming the glory of Torah, filling your soul with rivers of righteousness, repentance, and communion with G-d.