How Can We Celebrate Simchat Torah This Year?

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Sukkot in the shadow of October 7th. We feel guilty to celebrate when there are still precious members of our nation held hostage. When there are groups of wives and mothers waiting anxiously for news of their husbands and sons in combat. When there are too many wounded, physically and emotionally, from the trauma of the last year. When there are levayas and shivas all over the streets which should be the joyous chutzot yerushalayim. When a frightening new war front has opened up. Yet, Hashem still commands us, “vesamachta bechagecha,” rejoice on My festive days. How can this be?

I feel that no-one expressed it more beautifully than Noam Buskila¹, a musical IDF soldier who literally carried his guitar and his spirit of joy and song throughout the war. Buskila, in his interview before Purim and the joy-filled month of Adar, encouraged klal yisrael that the single greatest avoda they could achieve on Purim is to tap into the simcha of the day. But, Buskila explained, the simcha should not be like that of a regular Purim. It should be even stronger. We have lost too many lives and our enemies want us to wallow; to feel crushed, helpless and hopeless. The most precious gift we can give these fallen souls is the promise that we will be joyous on Yom Tov, for them. They cannot celebrate, but we can. Our enemies have diminished us in number, but we will not allow them to diminish our spirit.

Buskila quoted a poignant line from the Sephardi piyut “oked vehane’ekad vehamizbeach” which describes the akeida in poetic detail². As Avraham prepared himself mentally to sacrifice his beloved son, the paytan writes powerfully that he possessed simultaneously “ayin be’mar bocha velev sameach.” “Eyes of bitter tears, but a heart which rejoiced.” In fact, this line has been on my mind many times during this war because it illustrates so perfectly the duality of our emotions. We mourn our losses deeply. Our eyes cry with pain. Yet, like Avraham, we know in our hearts that this too is from Hashem. And doing His will brings us to the most sincere state of simcha. On Sukkot, we can feel the bitterness of the exile, and yet inside, we can glow with the knowledge that Hashem wants us to rejoice.

It is true, however, that our joy is never complete in this world. Even on Sukkot, Zman Simchateinu, our happiness is not complete. The Mishna³ tells us that anyone who never saw a Simchat Beit Hashoeva, the joyous water-drawing ceremony which occurred annually on Sukkot, has never seen true joy. We may be fortunate enough to fill our Sukkot with family, friends, precious divrei Torah and delicious food – but all of this pales in comparison to the Sukkot we once had in Yerushalayim of old.

Part of our avoda on Sukkot, which may come more naturally this Yom Tov, is cultivating the desire for the rebuilding of Sukkat David hanofelet, the fallen Sukka of David Hamelech. The loss of the dynasty of Davidic kings which will eventually blossom into the melech hamoshiach. The loss of the Beit Hamikdash which will one day be rebuilt into a third, and indestructible, structure. In fact, the Shem Mishmuel (quoted by Rabbi Glatstein⁴) writes that the structure of the Sukka is a dugma, a microcosmic model, of the Beit Hamikdash itself. Rabbi Glatstein explains that the mitzva of Sukka is a manifestation of our tefillot over yamim noraim, namely, our desire to crown Hashem as King and feel His presence closely. We are given a taste, a miniature version of the glorious Beit Hamikdash, each in our own humble sukkot. To the extent that we keep Sukkot properly, we demonstrate to Hashem how fervent our wish is to live in closeness with Him.

Sukkot is certainly a time to focus our hearts and minds on Eretz Yisrael. The Abarbanel explains that the seven days of Sukkot parallel the shivat haminim, the seven holy species of Eretz Yisrael. From here derives the minhag to hang grapes and the like decoratively inside our sukkot. Rabbi Glatstein quotes⁵ the Abarbanel who reveals that each of the Shalosh Regalim are linked to three Divine gifts. Pesach is a time to celebrate Yetziat Mitzrayim, we perform multiple mitzvot to express our gratitude to Hashem over this miracle. Shavuot is designated to appreciate the gift of Hashem’s Torah, many demonstrating their love by learning all night. Sukkot is set aside as a festival which acknowledges the beauty of Eretz Yisrael and how fortunate we are to have it as our land, our heritage.

Rabbi Doron Perez, whose son Daniel Perez was killed on October 7th and whose body was taken hostage to Gaza, writes⁶ that Sukkot is an acknowledgement of the fragility of life, a notion we have perhaps experienced more this year than any other. The halachic covering of the sukka, the sechach, is obligatorily sourced from plants which have been detached from the ground. A parameter, Rabbi Perez explains, which would make the material of the roof weaker. In a similar vein, each of the arba minim are taken from plants detached from the ground. This means they are disconnected from the water which keeps them alive, most obviously seen in the arava which wilts extremely quickly. All this reflects, in the words of Rabbi Perez, the “flimsiness of life.” Indeed the Gemara⁷ writes that in the same way that the arba minim are dependent on water for their survival, so are we dependent on Hashem. After a year like this year, we can look at our parched lulav and our flimsy roof and feel our total reliance on Hashem.

As we sit, eat and sleep in our sukkot this year, we may feel a cacophony of emotions. The joy of Yom Tov, the pain of loss, the desire for connection, the thirst for the Land and the vulnerable state of life. May Hashem gather together each of these holy, fractured feelings and unite us in the rebuilt Sukka of David Hamelech.