Shabbat Hol Ha-mo'ed Sukkot, Exodus 33:12 - 34:26

This week's parashah has been generously sponsored in loving memory of Meryl Gardner's mother, Harriet H. Cohen. Kolel is grateful to Meryl for her ongoing support and appreciates its weekly sponsors.

The firmest walls are the ones we build around ourselves as protection from the elements that might hurt us emotionally or intellectually.

Last week, the Torah portion for Yom Kippur dealt with the annual ritual cleaning of God's house. Seven days later, on Shabbat Hol Ha-mo'ed Sukkot, we're still dealing with real estate as we spend time in the sukkah, the temporary shelter that is one of the symbols of Sukkot. Interestingly, there is no mention of the sukkah in the special reading for this Shabbat. The only allusion to the holiday is towards the end of the reading, which deals with the pilgrimage festivals: You shall observe the Feast of Weeks, of the first fruits of the wheat harvest; and the Feast of Ingathering (hag ha-asif) at the turn of the year. (Exodus 34:22) It is in the reading for the first two days of Sukkot that reference is made to the temporary dwellings: On the fifteenth day of this seventh month there shall be the Feast of Booths (hag ha-sukkot) to Adonai, [to last] seven days. (Leviticus 23:34)

To quote Peggy Lee: "Is that all there is?" One verse about gathering the harvest at the end of the year – and that is the reason we read from the Book of Exodus this Shabbat? Is there nothing else that connects the portion to the holiday? Well, a few verses from Exodus 34 will sound familiar. Known in Jewish tradition as the thirteen attributes of God, these words play a big role in the liturgy of the High Holy Days, beginning with Selichot and are found in the liturgy for the pilgrimage festivals as well: Adonai passed before him and proclaimed: "Adonai! Adonai! a God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin…." (Exodus 34:6-7)

What we have here is part of an amazing exchange between God and Moses. The power in this exchange derives from the fact that it takes places shortly after the incident of the Golden Calf. This week's special parashah begins with Moses making a request of God: "See, You say to me, 'Lead this people forward,' but You have not made known to me whom You will send with me. Further, You have said, 'I have singled you out by name, and you have, indeed, gained My favor.' Now, if I have truly gained Your favor, pray let me know Your ways, that I may know You and continue in Your favor. (Exodus 33:12-13) God promises to be with Moses, to go in the lead and to lighten his burden. But that was not the heart of Moses' request, and he blurts out: "Oh, let me behold Your Presence!"

These words that Moses speaks are heart-wrenching. He is leading a people who have just experienced a spiritual meltdown that has nearly destroyed their relationship with God. They could not relate to this unseen God and created an idolatrous symbol, the Golden Calf, which gave them security. Their leader pleaded for their lives. Now, he too admits that he is in crisis: Moses, too, needs to see God. His confession comes at a time when the covenantal relationship between God and Israel is in a very fragile state. Moses has already smashed the tablets of the covenant; his request might very well tear the delicate cord that is still connecting God and Israel. If the leader cannot accept the terms of the covenant, what hope is there for the people?

But God uses this as an opportunity to repair the breach, telling Moses to carve another set of tablets, go back up Sinai, and there part of Moses' request will be fulfilled. God will pass before Moses, but Moses cannot see all of God's presence, just the "back." Furthermore, the entire situation is also physically dangerous to Moses. Thus God will protect Moses by placing him in the cleft of a rock and shielding him.

The exchange between Moses and God in Exodus 33:12-34:10 is raw, delicate, and honest. This dialogue takes place at a moment of great vulnerability; the entire relationship between God and Israel is at stake. Nothing is hidden; everything is laid bare.

This exposure is what ties the portion to Sukkot. The firmest walls are the ones we build around ourselves as protection from the elements that might hurt us emotionally or intellectually. The greater the possibility of upset, the thicker the walls we construct. Those we love the most have the potential to hurt us most deeply, as we can cause them great injury as well; and it is in these relationships that the stakes are highest. It is at such a fragile moment that the encounter between God and Moses occurs. The dialogue between Moses and the Divine models for us the possibility of strengthening a relationship when it is most vulnerable. A breach in the wall does not herald destruction, but an opportunity for construction.

Sukkot reminds us that ultimate security is found not within the walls of our home but in the presence of God and one another. Indeed, there is a midrash that says that sukkot are not buildings at all but the glory of God. This holiday helps us understand that sometimes the walls we build to protect us serve instead to divide us, cut us off, lock us in.

The walls of our sukkot may make us vulnerable, but they make us available, too, to receive the kindness and the support of one another, to hear when another calls out in need, to poke our heads in to see whether anybody is up for a chat and a cup of coffee. In contrast, our walls of concrete and steel can enslave us in our own solitude and loneliness. Sukkot reminds us that freedom is enjoyed best not when we are hidden away behind our locked doors but rather when we are able to open our homes and our hearts to one another. (Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin, The Tapestry of Jewish Time: A Spiritual Guide to Holidays and Lifecycle Events)

It is only because the relationship between God and Israel is so deep that it could reach such a crisis situation. Yet the very pain of the trauma provides an opening for a complete healing, a renewed understanding. But that means taking a chance. Sukkot is about reaching out towards that opening and taking that chance. The firmest foundations in our lives are not the buildings in which we live, but the relationships we establish.

In just a few days we will start reading the Torah all over again. The book of Genesis is filled with examples of our beloved ancestors stumbling through relationships. Jacob, fearing for his life, runs away from his brother Esau. Decades later Jacob returns. In an incredibly moving passage in Parashat Vayishlach, Jacob first struggles with God and then faces the challenge of meeting his brother. And then what? … Jacob journeyed on to Sukkot, and built a house for himself and made stalls for his cattle; that is why the place was called Sukkot. (Genesis 33:17) The first mention of Sukkot in the Torah is not a description of the pilgrimage festival for the people Israel; it is the place where one man finds himself after reconciliation and redemption.

And you thought all this relationship stuff ended with Yom Kippur. Guess again! Sukkot is the holiday of redemption: One more chance. We eagerly anticipate dwelling in a sukkah, knowing we might experience the wind and cold, but also the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the night sky. Are we ready to step into an emotional sukkah - susceptible to hurt but accessible to healing? More than fragile, the sukkah is pliable, teaching us that we too can be giving and forgiving in our relationships.

This is z'man simchateinu, the season of our joy. Jacob struggled with God, reconciled with his brother, and then experienced the joy of Sukkot. Moses learns in our portion that the greatest bond can come after the most shattering experience. In following their examples, we too can delight in Sukkot in all its forms.

Mo'adim le-simcha and Shabbat shalom,
MS