Sukkot
SERMON SUKKOT 5785 October 19, 2024
Rabbi David Edleson Temple Sinai, South Burlington, Vermont
A Poem We May Dwell Within
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to seek, and a time to lose; A time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; A time for war, and a time for peace.
The book of Kohelet, or Ecclesiastes, is traditionally read during Sukkot. Kohelet is a theological reflection on the human inability to control life. We might try, we might have unimaginable riches, we might amass legendary power but larger events happen, and we lose our power, our wealth, our health, our children. We can’t control things. Being good doesn’t mean you will be rewarded and being bad doesn’t mean you will suffer.
Kolhelet is read on Sukkot, because Sukkot also reminds us of the fragility of the things we depend on, like shelter. A small storm can wipe out a Sukkah. Certainly, no Sukkah can give us the illusion that it will withstand floods, or fires, or wars. Sukkot, coming as it does just at the beginning of the rainy season in Israel, is a beautiful symbol of the human condition: we are enjoying the bounty of the harvest, the partnership between this miracle earth and the work and skill of our own hands and minds, but we are also reminding ourselves that it could all be wiped out tomorrow. If it doesn’t rain, we have no food. If it rains too much, we are washed away. Without fire, we can’t cook but fire can and does destroy our homes and communities. When we are out in a Sukkah, working for our harvest, we are particularly vulnerable to war.
War, loss, flood, fire – these have always been a part of being human. Kohelet sees this in a way that we would rather not. There is a time for war and a time for peace. A time to be born and a time to die. This does not mean it is fair, or just. It just is, and we need to keep that in our mind when we are deciding how to live. Kohelet’s advice is to find joy in the days we have, eat good food, celebrate, do decent work and enjoy the love of those around you. This is what is in our control.
So much of this past year has reminded us that there is so much we don’t control. We have a voice, but there are larger forces at play. Tides of antisemitism rise and fall, and we can and must speak out and defend ourselves, but as our ancestors learned, and as Israelis are now learning, the hatred against us has little to do with us and is sometimes bigger than we are.
We can work for peace, pray for peace, but there are conflicts that do not have evident peaceful resolutions, and the human desire for war is as much a part of our nature as the desire for peace. Our tradition tells us to pursue peace and to offer terms for surrender, but it also teaches us that if we are attacked, we must utterly defeat those who attack us so that they do not rise up and attack us again.
Ours is a complex tradition that does not fit easily on bumper stickers because it tries to balance competing virtues and competing values in ways that do not always satisfy the idealist in each of us.
Sukkot, and Kohelet are beautiful reminders that if we put aside our moralism, our simplistic desire for a simple good vs evil - if we can set those aside and just look honestly at our fellow human beings, we can see the struggle, the pains, the losses, the betrayals, and we can see at the same time the beauty of love, of connection, the joy of harvest, the value of meaningful work.
Robert Frost famously said that a good poem was a “momentary stay against confusion.” To me, Sukkot is such a poem brought into three dimensions, a poem we may dwell within. This poem reminds us that our lives are fragile, that we are not in control but that among the fears and hurts we carry, there is such profound beauty and meaning in our lives together. Let that beauty be the ideal we seek.
Chag Sameach.
