Part II. The Sukkah of Humility

Part II. The Sukkah of Humility

The Sukkah Academy

Now, as much as every Yom Tov has this function, when we come to the Yom Tov of Sukkos, we have to understand that these seven days are especially dedicated to this principle. Because on Sukkos we have the mitzvah of living in a sukkah and one of the fundamental lessons that the sukkah is trying to teach us is humility.

All the mitzvos, you have to know, are a form of teaching. Besides for just fulfilling the command of Hashem, לֹא נִתְּנוּ הַמִּצְווֹת אֶלָּא לְצָרֵף בָּהֶן אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת – the mitzvos are intended to refine our minds and our characters (Bereishis Rabbah 44:1). It means if you go into a sukkah and you're happy – it's a Yom Tov atmosphere, ornaments are hanging in the sukkah, your family is there and they're serving a nice meal also, so you make a bracha leishev basukkah because you're fulfilling the mitzvah – very good! But there are purposes there, too, and if you'll think about them, that's the best way to sit in the sukkah. And the more you put into it, the more you'll achieve, the more you'll be refined.

The Proud Nation

The purpose of the sukkos, it says openly, is לְמַעַן יֵדְעוּ דּוֹרוֹתֵיכֶם – that your generations should know כִּי בַסָּכּוֹת הוֹשַׁבְתִּי אֶת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּהוֹצִיאִי אוֹתָם מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם that I caused your forefathers to dwell in sukkos when I took them out of Egypt (Vayikra 23:43). And one of the reasons why Hashem did that was so we should learn to be humble. After all, they were going into Eretz Yisroel where they would live like aristocrats, in big stone homes on their own land, and that would be dangerous.

Dangerous to what? To their character. Because there's a warning in the Torah: Hashem says that when you come into Eretz Canaan and you'll disinherit the previous inhabitants and dwell in batim tovim, nice homes – an emphasis on good homes, strong and secure – so you must beware of וְרָם לְבָבֶךָ that your heart might become proud (Devarim 8:14).

Now what does it mean “your heart will become proud”? Does it mean you'll walk around boasting of your home? It could be, but that's not what it really means. If somebody has a nice home, to some extent it may contribute to his arrogance, it might make him conceited, but that's not the point here at all. וְרָם לְבָבֶךָ – Your heart will become proud, וְשָׁכַחְתָּ אֶת ה' – you'll forget about Hashem.

Forget Hashem?! That's impossible! They're not going to forget Hashem in Eretz Yisroel! They'll continue to do mitzvos. They'll separate terumah and ma'aser from their grain. They'll keep kashrus and taharas hamishpacha. Even the dinim of tumah v'taharah and everything else they'll keep. So what does it mean they'll forget Hashem?

Feeling Too Secure

It means that you won't think about Him as your Benefactor, as your security. It's possible to do all these mitzvos and still to forget that you have a Master over you. Because if you're not busy with humility, you'll begin to imagine that you're good without Him. Of course, you won't say that – you won't even think it – but your character will change.

When you live in a beautiful, comfortable home, you tend to forget that there's Somebody over you. In the desert, you didn't have any permanent dwellings; you only had tents, temporary makeshift huts that at any moment when you heard the trumpets blow you had to put them together quickly on the back of a donkey and set out on the trek in the desert to some other place, so you couldn't feel too arrogant. You turned around and looked back where you had encamped for some time and you see there's nothing left except a little bit of garbage, and you're traveling again, so you didn't feel a permanence at all.

But when they came to Eretz Yisroel and they settled in, it was a different story. Not only they settled permanently, but they were living in beautiful dwellings – houses that they didn't have to take apart and transport on the back of an animal to someplace else. And so, naturally, people tend to forget that really they're not so important.

Deflating the Proud

And therefore, in order to prepare for that test, Hashem said, וְזָכַרְתָּ אֶת כָּל הַדֶּרֶךְ אֲשֶׁר הֹלִיבֶךָ ה' אֱלֹקֶיךָ זֶה אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה בַּמִּדְבָּר לְמַעַן עַנּתְךְ – I took you into the Midbar for forty years to humble you, to prepare you (Devarim 8:2). In the Midbar, they were always reminded that they were entirely dependent on Hashem. They were secure, yes, but you can't feel like a big shot when you're living in a desert in a tent. And that was the purpose. That was the intention.

And that's why we go into the sukkah – to be humbled before Hakadosh Baruch Hu. We leave our nice homes, our carpets and our chandeliers, our brick walls and sturdy roof, and for seven days we go into a flimsy little hut, a weak kind of protection.

The Revoked Citizenship

That's what the possuk says כָּל הָאֶזְרָח בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל יֵשְׁבוּ בַּסְכֹּת – every citizen of Yisroel should dwell in sukkos (Vayikra 23:42). That's a queer word to use, ezrach. You don't find it in other places. It doesn't say “every ezrach should eat kosher” or “every ezrach should keep Shabbos.” It doesn't say “every ezrach should refrain from shaving with a razor blade.” Only when it comes to the sukkah, the possuk says ezrach. What's that about?

And the answer is ezrach means a bona fide citizen. You're established. You have a nice home and it's not even stucco; it's brick. You think you're pretty important. You feel that you're an ezrach, a permanent burgher, an important fellow? Then you need a reminder: צֵא מִדִּירַת קֶבַע וְשֵׁב בְּדִירַת עֲרַאי – Move out of your nice home into a temporary dwelling (Sukkah 2a).

A Humbling Hut

That's why the sukkah has to be built in such a way that it's not a permanent type of home. You can't make it so high a construction that you're forced to have sturdy walls. No. It has to be flimsy. That's a halacha of sukkah. Also, the Torah insists that the schach cannot be a regular roof. Even though the roof will be of things that grow from the ground, if it's made in such a way that it is a permanent construction, then it's possul.

And so you see the insistence on the theme of something that is temporary, something which humbles the one who dwells there. It's a very weak kind of protection. Some sticks, some schach; sometimes it rains into your soup.

A goy can even heave a brick into the schach, chas v'shalom, and it will fall through. You know sometimes your neighbor, a gentile, makes trouble for you on Sukkos? He wants to call the city inspector because you're making an illegal structure. Or he makes other trouble. I once was visiting a rabbi of a certain shul in East Flatbush and he was making his sukkah. He had a Puerto Rican neighbor who liked making trouble for him. And this rabbi went next door to him and he said, “Please, please,” he said, "don't break down my sukkah.” He was begging him. “Please don't break down my sukkah.”

In his house, this rabbi was an important fellow – and he was, by the way – but outside on Sukkos he didn't feel so important any longer. I was comforting him; I told him that he should be happy that he was fulfilling one of the purposes of the sukkah. You go into the sukkah to remind yourself that you're not as important as you thought. You're insecure, unprotected. Without Hashem, you're nothing.

Homeless Citizens

And that's why the ezrach is emphasized. That weak kind of construction is for the purpose of teaching the one living there that he's not so important. Even if you're a permanent, real bona fide Jew, you should also move out because you have to be reminded that you're not as important as you imagine. You look up and see overhead nothing but schach. The people passing by won't give you much privacy there. You can't sit like a melech when you're in a place that has two walls and a tefach. “I'm like a homeless man, chas v'shalom.”

Now, you don't see a homeless person who's arrogant. How can he be arrogant if he's living on a park bench? Maybe he's rude, he never learned any manners; he's bitter – but arrogant he's surely not. And in a small way, that's what you're doing in the sukkah. It's for the purpose of humbling you.

The Great Unhoused

And now we understand something puzzling about the practices of Avraham, our father. וְאַבְרָם כָּבֵד מְאֹד – He was very heavy with wealth, בַּמִּקְנֶה בַּכֶּסֶף וּבַזְהָב – with huge herds, huge flocks, and trunks full of silver and gold (Bereishis 13:2).

Now, a wealthy man could have built himself a beautiful home. He could buy a plot and build a brick house surrounded by gardens and orchards. That's what we would have done. Even if you're a tzaddik, so you're not going to build a palace maybe, but at least a home, something. It's interesting, however, that Avraham always dwelt in a tent.

Now, you could say, there was a reason for the tent. Avraham was always traveling: הָלוֹךְ וְנָסוֹעַ – He was always on the move (Bereishis 12:9). Because he had a purpose and that was to preach to everybody that there is a Master of the World. Wherever he went, that was his business – וַיִּקְרָא בְּשֵׁם ה' קֵל עוֹלָם (Bereishis 21:33). There's a Ribono Shel Olam! That was Avraham's business; he went around from place to place preaching that. So you might say that he couldn't build a palace for that reason.

Practice What You Preach

But that wasn't the only reason. It was a principle: he should never become arrogant. He should always remind himself that he's not so secure, that he's bowed down before Hashem. It wasn't only that he preached about it – he practiced it. And living in a flimsy structure helped.

It was only Lot who finally broke with his rebbe, Avraham, and went away to Sedom. At first it says וַיֹּאהַל – he pitched his tent (ibid. 13:12). But finally, he gave up Avraham's way of life and he moved into a house. It says openly that he lived in a house in Sedom (ibid. 19:2). So he gave up the ways of his rebbe.

But Avraham and Yitzchak, they dwelt in tents. Even Yaakov, who built a house, moved out soon and went back to the tents. They lived in tents always. And so we see that it was a principle of the Avos that they should never forget this great principle: to live with the attitude of hishtachavah, to make yourself low before Hashem.

Emulating Our Forefathers

Now, we don't do that. We're not as great as our forefathers. And Hakadosh Baruch Hu doesn't require it either. “Live in a nice home,” He says. “I want you to be happy and comfortable. But once a year, for seven days, I want you to be like the Avos and like your forefathers in the Midbar. And therefore, on Sukkos צֵא מִדִּירַת קֶבַע וְשֵׁב בְּדִירַת עֲרַאי and practice up on this great middah of humility."

And therefore, isn't it a rachmanus when people sit in the sukkah and don't think about what the sukkah is about? To walk into the sukkah after making all preparations and the mind should be blank? A very great loss.