We are deep into the holidays! We have come out of Rosh Hashanah & Yom Kippur and headed straight into Sukkot. It is amongst my favorite times of the year.
Not because we have a half-day and I have to sprint out of here to buy ingredients for cholent, finish my sukkah, and get ready for the holiday am I going to revise and update a blog post that I originally wrote last year here. I am going to revise and update that blog post because I don’t know how to say what I want to say during this time of year any differently…and because I don’t imagine the issues it raises will markedly be different this year (but I am open to being wrong!).
So…without further adieu…
I love Sukkot! Talk about “A Floor, But No Ceiling”!
This is absolutely my favorite holiday of the entire year. There is nothing else like it on the Jewish Calendar – sitting outside in a sukkah
you built yourself (which I actually did this year!), with handmade decorations from your children, enjoying good food with friends and family in the night air, the citrusy smell of etrog lingering and mixing with verdant lulav
– this is experiential Judaism at its finest.
But here is a complicated truth: Even though our school will be closed on Thursday and Friday for Sukkot, it is reasonable to assume that the majority of our students will not be found in synagogue enjoying what is known as “The Season of our Rejoicing”. But many or most were in synagogue last weekend for Yom Kippur. So when it comes to “atoning” we have a full house, but for “rejoicing” we have empty seats?
If our children – if we – only experience the Judaism of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and not the Judaism of Sukkot, the simple truth is that we are not exposing them to the full range of beauty and joy our tradition has to offer. So why, in fact, is this what typically happens?
I’m not entirely sure, but I think it has to do with the exotic nature of the holiday. As someone who did not grow up celebrating this holiday, upon coming to synagogue as an adult and watching a congregation march in circles waving fruits and vegetables – well this was not the Judaism I knew! Truth be told, there are surely pagan accretions to the way that we honor the harvest roots of this holiday which may seem alien to the typical prayerbook service. But for me, that is precisely what makes it so unique, special and not-to-be-missed!
No one likes to feel uncomfortable and adults especially are wary of feeling uneducated or unprepared. I know how I felt encountering Jewish ritual for the first time as an adult – it was scary. I, however, was lucky. I was pursuing a degree in Jewish education and, therefore, had all the support and resources I needed to learn and grow. I realize that most adults coming at Jewish practice for the first time (or the first time in a while) are not so lucky. The amount of “stuff” Judaism asks of us to do – building the sukkah with precise specifications, shaking the lulav and etrog in the proscribed way, chanting less-familiar prayers, coming to synagogue on unfamiliar days – can be overwhelming.
But don’t lose the forest through the trees…I’d simply ask you to consider this: When building your child’s library of Jewish memories, which memory feels more compelling and likely to resonate over time – sitting in starched clothes in sanctuary seats or relaxing with friends and family in an outdoor sukkah built with love and care?
You don’t have to choose just one, of course, that is the beauty of living a life of sacred time – there is a rhythm to the Jewish calendar, evocative and varied. Come to synagogue for the High Holidays, to be sure. But don’t miss out on Sukkot (or Simchat Torah or Shavuot or “Add Jewish Holiday Here”). Let this Sukkot truly be the season of our great rejoicing. I hope to see many students in synagogue this Sukkot. I hope to see many parents push themselves out of their comfort zones and join the parade. Pick up your fruit and vegetables and march with us in a circle.
Chag sameach.
When reading this, I wasn’t sure if we were attending but it makes so much sense to show and teach and come full circle. Thank you for letting me see something I didn’t before.