The cat comes back. No matter how many valuable lessons my wife and I try to share with the kids around the table, there is only one story that I can count on them to remember from one year to the next.
Ages ago, our family enjoyed the hospitality of good friends who shared a story of a childhood Sukkot of their own in a Hungarian village. Bundled up against the fall chill, their conversation had been punctuated by the meows of a cat on the schach over their heads. Shivering like everyone else around, the feline friend was attracted by the mirth, merriment and warmth of the Sukkah below. She wanted in. To the surprise of those around the table, the cat found a way through the branches piled high, and leapt into their midst. Unfortunately, she landed smack in the middle of a large pot of hot soup! No one forgets this story, not the family from Hungary, not my children – and certainly not the cat.
While the cat might not empathize, I am sometimes jealous of her decision. How I would like to jump right into the joy and happiness of Sukkot, sidestepping the emotional seesaw of the preceding weeks. If only we didn’t have to pay such a heavy price for the season of rejoicing! Before the final Sukkah decoration is hung, there are the weeks of introspection and nervous anticipation before Rosh Hashanah. We face up to our failures of the previous year, and resolve to change ourselves for the future. Yom Kippur follows, with its twenty-four hour exercise in living like the angels, while trying to disregard the fact that the stomachs of those celestial beings don’t growl from food deprivation.
G-d seems to be mixing metaphors. After all this protracted somber stuff, He rushes us into our partying mood. Wouldn’t the fun stuff be more appreciated later on? Wouldn’t people appreciate an excuse to celebrate during the long celebratory dry spell between Chanukah and Purim? Scheduling Sukkot five days after the end of the High Holidays seems like an exercise in overkill. It almost seems as if G-d wished to clear his Divine calendar of a few excess holidays that He had to unload in a hurry.
Consulting traditional sources, though, we quickly glimpse the Wisdom of G-d’s agenda. He wants us to learn the difference between genuine happiness and contentment, and the ersatz variety that beckons like a thousand hawkers of psychic snake oil.
It is quite easy to get happy in a hurry. Focus on something interesting and likable that allows you to shut out all the things that make you unhappy, and you can melt into euphoria. (Think of William Prince Davis, who was recently executed for killing a man for $712. Just before the effects of his lethal injection took hold, he exited this world with this message: "I'd like to say in closing: What about those Cowboys?")
Alas, the glow fades quickly. So much of what we call entertainment is really diversion, not happiness. We can only really be happy when we are at peace with ourselves and with those who mean the world to us. Try leaving for a fun-filled vacation with your spouse the morning after a major fight. No one is going to have any serious fun unless the tension is first dissipated. So G-d allows us to make amends with Him and ourselves in the weeks culminating in Yom Kippur. It may be hard work, but the gain is immeasurable. The emotionally draining weeks before Sukkot are a necessary prelude to the joy of the final holiday of the season.
Even as we struggle to right a Sukkah wall that doesn’t want to stay put, we rightly tell our children that all of this is a metaphor for life. Nothing worthwhile comes without an investment of our time and energy, and we are only happy when we can feel good about ourselves.
There is a complementary thought to this, suggested by a Biblical passage.
Having taken the blessing Esau thought was intended for himself, Jacob had to flee his brother’s wrath. Decades later, the twin brothers tearfully reconciled. Esau requested that the two of them spend a bit more time together, but Jacob, fearful of his brother’s negative influence on his family, demurred. Genesis records their parting of ways. "Esau returned on his way that day to Seir; Jacob traveled on to Sukkot."
Traditionally, the encounter between the brothers presaged a much greater confrontation. Through their descendants, Jacob and his brother would in time develop into two competing civilizations and world-views: Judaism and Western Civilization. Rabbi Elie Munk, former Chief Rabbi of Paris, points out the irony of the travelogue. Esau went on to Seir, which happens to be the Hebrew word describing the famous biblical scapegoat, sent out to the wilderness each Yom Kippur to atone for the transgressions of the people. The society that Esau eventually built developed its own set of religious principles. Chief among its concerns was the expiation of sin. Esau’s religious probing moved along as far as the issues of guilt and redemption, and then stopped.
Jacob went on to Sukkot. Jews would have their opportunity to find forgiveness once a year, on Yom Kippur. But they would not stop there. They traveled on, celebrating a Sukkot with their newfound innocence. They would see forgiveness not as a goal, but as a first step, moving quickly into the frenetic mitzvah output of the holiday of Sukkot. Jews would always realize that Man enriches and ennobles himself not just by freeing himself of sin, but by perfecting himself through his own actions.
G-d gives us here a not so subtle reminder about the way we interact with significant others. As employers, friends, and spouses, we must often criticize others for shortcomings, large and small. If we are doing our parental duty, we will spend much time on housecleaning within the personalities of our children. We take note of their character flaws, chide them for inappropriate actions, force them to confront areas that need change. It is not difficult to fall into the trap of become policemen, focusing only on crime, punishment, and exoneration. How much more satisfying Yom Kippur is when followed by a Sukkot; how much more effective criticism is when we follow up and give people opportunities to push forward with positive, growing experiences!
To make it work, all we have to do is step back and think things through in advance. It’s a bit more effort, but feeling good both about ourselves and the way we relate to others is exactly like the Sukkah.
It’s not something we can just fall into.
AM ECHAD RESOURCES
{Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein, who directs the Jewish Studies Program at Yeshiva of Los Angeles and holds the Sydney M. Irmas Chair of Jewish Law and Ethics at Loyola Law School, is part of Am Echad Resources’ writers’ pool]