Why Sukkos?
Many of the Moadim have a clear reason why we celebrate them. For example, on Pesach we commemorate the Exodus from Egypt and Shavuos, the giving of the Torah. Yet, Sukkos seems more difficult to understand what we are actually celebrating. The verse tells us, "You shall dwell in Sukkos for seven days."¹ Yet, what is the underlying reason behind leaving our houses for a week and living in wooden structures?
Chazal² cite a dispute between Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Eliezer explains that Sukkos commemorates the Ananei HaKavod, the Clouds of Glory that surrounded Klal Yisrael in the wilderness and protected them in miraculous ways. Rabbi Akiva, however, holds that Sukkos commemorates the simple wooden huts that Klal Yisrael lived in. Let us first explore the reason behind Rabbi Eliezer's opinion.
The Ananei HaKavod were a miracle beyond our comprehension. Klal Yisrael did not need to worry about their feet becoming sore from walking through the desert in the scorching heat. Instead, they were able to glide upon these clouds effortlessly. Also, the clouds actually laundered their clothing. It was a Divine laundry service. Their clothes always remained pristine and clean.
Furthermore, the Ananei HaKavod provided protection from our enemies. For example, when the evil Amalekites came and attacked our camp, the arrows that were shot through the air were absorbed by these clouds. So, according to Rabbi Eliezer, when we sit in the Sukkah, we are remembering the incredible protection that Hashem provided for Klal Yisrael in the Midbar.
We might ask according to Rabbi Eliezer: Why is Sukkos on the 15th of Tishrei? The Ananei HaKavod surrounded Klal Yisrael in Nissan, so why should Sukkos be celebrated in Tishrei? The Gra³ explains that after the terrible sin of the Golden Calf, the Ananei HaKavod were removed. Moshe Rabbeinu pleaded with Hashem on behalf of Klal Yisrael, and he ascended to Shamayim. Moshe remained there until Yom Kippur, when Klal Yisrael received their atonement. After Yom Kippur, Moshe Rabbeinu commanded Klal Yisrael to begin working on the Mishkan. They immediately began their work, and this started on the 15th of Tishrei. At that time, the Ananei HaKavod miraculously returned.
This is why Sukkos is celebrated specifically on the 15th of Tishrei. We are not commemorating the original appearance of the Ananei HaKavod when Klal Yisrael left Mitzrayim. We are commemorating their return after Yom Kippur, after Klal Yisrael received forgiveness and began building the Mishkan.
There is another question we can ask according to Rabbi Eliezer. If a Sukkah is supposed to represent the Ananei HaKavod, why shouldn't we try to resemble them in as many ways as possible? For example, the Ananei HaKavod completely surrounded Klal Yisrael, including underneath their feet. Yet the floor of a Sukkah is not part of the mitzvah of Sukkah. Why not?
The Bach⁴ explains that the Sukkah is a zecher for the protection that Hashem gave Klal Yisrael. We do not need to completely replicate the Ananei HaKavod. Rather, we need to remember the incredible protection that Hashem provided for us.
Therefore, a key aspect of the Sukkah is the schach, which must cover most of the roof and provide us with shade and protection from the elements. This symbolizes the Ananei HaKavod, the miraculous Clouds of Glory that surrounded and protected Klal Yisrael in the wilderness. As we sit beneath the schach, we can reflect not only on these clouds, but on all the extraordinary miracles through which Hashem cared for and protected us in the barren desert. This is also reflected in the seven days of Sukkos, corresponding to the seven clouds of the Ananei HaKavod.⁵
Every year, when we enter the Sukkah, we are reminded of those miraculous clouds that surrounded Klal Yisrael and protected them in the Midbar. We leave the security of our homes and enter the Sukkah, sitting under the sechach and remembering that Hashem has always been there to protect His children.
However, the opinion of Rabbi Akiva seems much more difficult to understand. The moadim generally commemorate the extraordinary miracles that Hashem performed for our nation. Why, then, would we need a Chag for all generations to commemorate the fact that Klal Yisrael lived in simple, temporary huts in the desert? Unlike the miraculous Clouds of Glory, building shelters seems entirely natural and practical—a basic necessity for people living in the wilderness.
What was so remarkable about these huts that they deserve to be remembered and celebrated every year?
The Rashbam offers a powerful explanation. Sukkos is referred to as "Chag Ha'asif" the time of our gathering. It occurs after the harvest season when Klal Yisrael reaps the fruits of their labor. It is a time when a person's home is full, when there is plenty, and when life feels secure and comfortable. Specifically, at that moment, the Torah commands us to leave our sturdy homes and sit in a temporary Sukkah. This is to remind us that our sense of security is not something we created on our own.
There was a time when our ancestors wandered in the wilderness with no permanent homes, living in simple and fragile structures. By stepping into the Sukkah, we remind ourselves that everything we have—our homes, our comfort, and our stability—is a gift from Hashem.
The Rashbam notes that this idea is so fundamental that we follow the opinion of Rabbi Akiva. Therefore, he maintains that the main reason why we celebrate Sukkos is to commemorate the fact that we dwelled in wooden booths. Although Sukkos lasts for only seven days, its message applies to the entire year.
Our secure homes are such a tremendous gift and significantly enhance our lives. We must try our best not to take this for granted. Rav Avigdor Miller suggests the following exercise. Let us picture a man who lived without a home, never knowing where he would sleep at night, with no shelter, no stability, and no place to call his own. Then one day, someone gives him a house. The appreciation he would feel would be overwhelming. He would speak about it constantly, and every time he walked through the door he would be filled with gratitude to his benefactor.
How much more so, Rabbi Miller explains, should we thank Hashem Who graciously gives us a roof over our heads, such an essential need. After all, can we imagine life without a safe and comfortable home? Without a roof and walls to protect us from the elements and intruders. Where would we rest after a long day? It would be so difficult without a kitchen to prepare our meals and without a warm bed to sleep in at night. Our houses and shelters are more than just structures, they are daily miracles that provide safety, comfort, and a sense of peace.
Furthermore, in our times, this gift is even greater. Our homes are more comfortable and advanced than ever before. We have running water at the turn of a faucet—something that for generations people could hardly imagine. Cooking, cleaning, and bathing are all made simple. Similarly, electricity transforms our lives in countless ways. Without it, there would be no lights at night, no heating in the winter, no air conditioning in the summer, and none of the many appliances that make daily life so much easier.
It is also worth thinking about how different our homes are today compared to the past. In previous generations, entire families often lived in a single room, where everything—eating, sleeping, and living—took place in the same small space.
This actually has halachic ramifications. Chazal⁶ teach that Bedikas Chametz should be performed on the night before Pesach. This was in the days where houses were much smaller and people had much less. It was sufficient to light a candle on the evening before Pesach and go around the house looking for Chametz. Yet considering the sizes of our houses nowadays and how many possessions we have, one night is no longer enough and we need days to search properly. A key message of the Sukkah is to encourage us to appreciate this.
A man spent a long time planning a vacation. Things in his life had been very stressful, and he was looking forward to having a few days to unwind. However, when he arrived at his destination, it rained for five days straight. He wasn't able to visit the parks or enjoy the outdoor activities he had been looking forward to, and the vacation could easily have become a miserable experience.
Instead, he decided to remain positive and use the time indoors to focus on all the good in his life. He thought about how fortunate he was to have a roof over his head and what an enormous gift that was. How would he manage without shelter? He began appreciating the food and drink he had, his family and friends, and even the simple gifts of being able to breathe and see.
By the time it was time to go home, he said that it had been the best vacation he had ever had. He had spent the entire time appreciating the many blessings in his life that he normally took for granted.⁷
