Days of Joy

In discussing the centrality of simcha in Avodas Hashem, the Rambam writes that “Simcha shel mitzvah avodah gedolah hi” – rejoicing in the performance of mitzvos is not easy. It’s not automatic. It’s avodah, serious work. Joy is not passive. Joy, in the Torah’s worldview, is not a feeling that falls upon us. It is something we must strive for, push toward, and sometimes wrestle to uncover.

It is natural for us to compartmentalize our lives. When I am davening or learning, I am a certain type of Jew. But when I am at home or in the office or away on vacation, I am different. When I am with my family, I am a spouse or a parent, but when I’m with friends, I may forget that. But in the Succah, there is no compartmentalization. There is only one room. In the Succah, we learn in the same place that we eat and we eat in the same place that we learn. We host people where we sleep and we relax in the same place that we invite Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov. Because in reality, the whole world is, in fact, only one room and there is only one roof. The whole world is one room under Hashem’s transcendent presence. Everything we do happens in His presence. Our relationship with Hashem and our opportunity to connect with Him is not limited to a particular location or activity and our need to act with moral consciousness is not limited to one domain or another. The Succah tells us that the entirety of our lives is for one unified purpose. It all fits in one room. To serve Hashem, live in His presence, glorify His name, and develop our personal relationship with Him.

The schach of the Succah is made of psoles goren v’yekev – the leftover waste from threshing and winemaking. The Succah is covered in the physical remnants of the world, the rejected and unwanted leftovers. We all know what it feels like when such parts of our lives hang over our heads and block the sun from getting in. It feels dark, gloomy, and suffocating. But halachah tells us something subtle and powerful: the Schach should be arranged in such a way that one can (at least ideally) be able to see the stars through the slits and spaces. Rav Yitzchok Meir Morgenstern Shlitah says that chazal are telling us that even when our access to light is obscured because of all the brokenness that hangs above us, we are meant to find a way to see light. We must look through the slits, no matter how tiny, and find the stars. We do not wait for a clear sky, we look even more closely, with unrelenting belief that we can find a crack and that we can find a star.

The Gemarah tells us that one is not yotzeh the mitzvah of arba minim unless he is holding the minim derech gedeilasam – the way they grow. In other words, the minim must be held facing upwards. This means that two people can be holding the exact same object, but if one of them is holding it downwards and the other is holding it upwards, one of them is doing a mitzvah and the other is not. Sometimes, a person’s behaviors are problematic and need fundamental change. But other times, a person’s behaviors are theoretically good, but they are doing them facing downwards. They are facing the ground. Facing the materiality and indulgence of this world and forgetting to look upwards. They may not even need to change their behaviors in any radical way; they can continue going to the exact same job, the exact same minyan, or eating the exact same food. But they need to remember one more thing, the most important thing: to look upwards. To remember that there is a Creator who put us here to have a relationship with Him.

We lift the Daled Minim for both the celebratory call of הודו לה‘ כי טוב כי לעולם חסדו and the cry of distress אנא ה‘ הושיעא נא. Which one do the Daled Minim relate to? Are they instruments of joy and triumph or vehicles for expressing pain, angst, and desperation? The answer, of course, is both. And there is nothing more Jewish than this. The adamant belief that joy and pain cannot be separated. True joy does not avoid or bypass pain, it works through it, elevates it, and sees its resolution. And at the same time, Jewish pain is always framed as paving the way to joy. This is how we endure the pain and enrich the joy.

On the first day of Succos there is a halacha that each person must own the Daled Minim they are using to perform the mitzvah. They cannot borrow someone else’s set to do the mitzvah. After the first day, however, it is permissible to use someone else’s set. Perhaps the meaning in this is that Hashem wants each of us to show up as ourselves. He created every person with a unique personality and a unique set of life circumstance so that he or she can bring something different and personal into their relationship with Hashem. It is easy though to lose track of our individuality and fall into a mindset of trying to mimic other people we feel are doing it “right” or “better.” On the first day of Succos, my Daled Minim must belong to me and yours must belong to you because Hashem wants me and He wants you, not two me’s and not two you’s. However, Chazal also tell us, איזהו החכם? הלומד מכל אדם – Who is the wise person? The one who learns from all people. The importance of individuality is not meant to preclude the possibility of learning from others. In fact, each of us should be open to gaining insights, ideas, and inspiration by seeing other people grow. Perhaps this is why people are allowed to borrow each other’s Daled Minim after the first day. Once we’ve each solidified our own uniqueness as the anchor of our Avodas Hashem, we can now borrow ideas and approaches from others as well.

Shmini Atzeres has no Shofar, no Kodesh Hakadoshim, no Succah, and no arba minim. In fact, it has no particular mitzvah at all. The seforim explain that while our connection with Hashem is still building, we need special intermediaries to help us connect. We use the Shofar, the Succah, etc. But now, through this process, we have become so deeply connected with Hashem that we don’t need anything. Everything we’ve done has led us to this moment of pure connection without any intermediary or tool. Our being, our consciousness of connection, is all we need.

The Gemarah uses this phrase to tell us that regarding various halachos, Shemini Atzeres is treated as its own Yom Tov and not just a finale to Succos. The Seforim teach us that there is also a deeper meaning. רגל בפני עצמו can be translated as “a foot on its own.” After going through the process of Elul, Rosh Hashanah, Aseres Yemei Teshuva, Yom Kippur, and Succos, we can now stand before Hashem on our own foot. As explained above, the peak of the entire Tishrei process is when we no longer need the Shofar, the inyuim, the Succah, or the Lulav. Have gone so deep into ourselves that we can now stand before Hashem just as we are. On our own foot.