The Weekly Sedra – Sukkos: A Lesson In Security!

There was once a Melamed (Cheder teacher) whom a well-to-do industrialist engaged to serve as the village resident tutor for a period of time. It so happened that during this same period the prosperous businessman built himself a magnificent mansion.

During the housewarming festivities all the household members found themselves, as can be expected, in highly festive and cheerful spirits. When the owner of the new home noticed that the visiting Melamed was quite caught up in the joyous festivities, he turned to him in surprise: “Why so much joy? After all, you are only here temporarily!”

The Melamed, who might have been of humble means but not of humble mind, quickly glanced back at the Bal-Habbos (owner/employer) and rejoined: “And you Sir? Do you think you’re here forever? You too, are only here temporarily!”

Despite all the attention paid to security these days there is much that can be learned from Judaism concerning this vital topic.

During the holiday of Sukkos – the most verdant season of the year – the time of the harvest, we are called upon to leave our comfortable, secure homes and move into temporary booths. It is difficult to fully understand the manner in which this season is celebrated.

Prosperity and the power it provides are usually employed towards man’s instinctive quest for security and comfort. Governments, like individuals, rely upon well-equipped and well-trained military forces, gated communities and good security devices for protection.

If we are, in fact, celebrating the festive harvest season – a time of abundance and assurance – why are we asked to leave our secure and comfortable environments in exchange for temporary frail huts? Why, in this most affluent time of year, should we take-up residence in a non-secure, non-insulated, rickety shed?

Even more perplexing is the fact that the holiday of Sukkos is synonymous with joy and happiness – it is actually referred to in our prayers as “The time of our joy.” Is a flimsy, unprotected Sukkah, with a fragile and porous roof, really a way to celebrate our prosperity and gladness?

Our observance of Sukkos is a stark reminder that our security is not complete even with the harvest reaped and our barns filled to overflowing, nor are we safe in our well fortified homes and mansions.

We Jews are taught to place our trust in the Almighty – to know that prosperity and security lie in the hands of G-d and not in our own fortresses. By dwelling in the Sukkah we are reminded that all material riches and power are illusory – here today, gone tomorrow. We understand that safety and security are ultimately in the hands of a “Higher Authority.”

While our insulated, heated, centrally air conditioned and gated (even alarmed) brick homes may provide a good measure of bodily comfort, its sense of security and durability may be false. There are so many threats, both natural and manmade, that can penetrate, even shatter, our secure havens in an instant.

We need only consider the events of the last few years – the most modern and scientifically advanced era in history. Of what use were our fortresses when Kassam rockets came raining down on Northern Israel?

Of what use were our secure domiciles when hurricane Katrina came barreling through Louisiana and Mississippi? Of what use were the mighty Twin Towers when vicious terrorists decided to fly commercial airliners into their majestic structure? And, for that matter, of what use was our mighty and sophisticated military?

Many of us could not hide our frustration after 9/11. Why, we demanded, can’t the most powerful country in the world – in this most scientifically advanced era – put an end to the nagging threat stemming from a bunch of primitive robe clad barbarians?

This was not just a desperate cry for security – a reaction to fear and vulnerability – in the disappointment and demands of these perturbed vices one could detect something far deeper; a sense of frustration and indignance.

“For heaven sake, will we ever be in control of our own fate? If a mighty Super-power like America can not protect itself from a band of wiled hooligans, of what worth is all its power and might? Just when we thought we had all the capabilities to fend for ourselves – just when we started to believe that our scientific know-how has replaced G-d – it all falls apart. Now what have we left?”

Our religion has, from time immemorial, steered us away from this trap. The Sukkah and the holiday of Sukkos teach us not to put our faith in our own power and might. Not to place all our trust in mortar and brick. It is not enough to depend solely on military and technological capabilities or, for that matter, wealth, even when our silos are filled; when we feel mighty and prosperous – and most importantly not to develop a false sense of permanence and longevity in this world.

This holiday teaches us that life is fragile and fleeting, that every moment we have on this earth is a gift from G-d and that it should be appreciated and recognized as such.

A story is told of a visitor who chanced upon the home of the great Chassidic master Rabbi DovBer of Mezheritch. The traveler was utterly stunned by the poverty he beheld. Rabbi DovBer’s home was devoid of any furniture, save for a few rough wooden planks and blocks that served as benches for his students during the day and as beds for his family at night. “How can you live like this?” exclaimed the visitor. “I myself am far from wealthy, but at least in my home you will find, thank G-d, the basic necessities: some chairs, a table, beds…”

“Indeed?” said Rabbi DovBer. “But I don’t see any of your furnishings in your coach. How do you manage without them?”

“What do you mean? Do you think I would schlep all my possessions along with me wherever I go? At home it’s one thing but when traveling it is a different matter altogether!”

“Ah, yes,” said Rabbi DovBer. “When traveling it is a different matter altogether, you see, I too am traveling.”