“Join Jim and Sherry in their Sukkah (in the backyard)” said the flyer delivered to our door by our neighbors. This welcome invitation came adorned with a graphic in green depicting a verdant tree, amid grass and sprouting leaves.
The prospect of joining in our friends' celebration of their autumnal holiday gladdened my heart. My instinct is to thank God for the fruits of the earth and the other gifts that this time of year brings us.
For Jews, the feast of Succoth comes as the third of the high holidays and is observed for a week. After Rosh Hashanah, the commemoration of the New Year, and Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, this third feast day joyfully celebrates the harvest.
It also reminds Jewish people of their ancestors wandering in the desert for 40 years after the fateful escape from Egypt, when they dwelt in temporary huts for shelter from the sun and wind.
The Saturday when we were invited turned out to be a beautiful, clear, and seasonably cool afternoon, ideal for sitting in the back yard next to the garden.
Jim and Sherry's Sukkah was made of wood, with a roof decorated with dried corn stalks and other gourds. One end of the structure was wide open, enabling us to look out at the garden and surrounding houses.
This Sukkah had enough space for ten or so friends and neighbors who arrived during our stay. After we chose food and drink, Jim began our session with a traditional prayer from the Jewish liturgy for the day: “Blessed are you, O Lord, Ruler of the Universe, who has commanded us to dwell in the Sukkah.” We all assented to this beautiful prayer with the single word “Amen.”
After that we talked, asking about the couple's children who, when they were still at home, used to be an important part of the observance. This fall, Tamar is visiting India for a few months, and Akiva is away at college.
We also bantered about the neighborhood and local residents, all in a relaxed and joyful spirit. While we talked, new guests came and, gradually, others would leave as the afternoon moved on. (Everyone had gone by the time the Red Sox faced off against the Yankees.)
Our hosts established a spirit of pleasure in one another's company. Though they and the other guests who were Jewish were observing an important liturgical day, they made sure it remained a lighthearted occasion for everyone. We laughed a lot, as we sat in this once-a-year structure and enjoyed the company and the environment.
At the same time, we were conscious of what the day means to people who identify with a great faith. For our host, Jim, “it's a special time when we as a family get together and build our little temporary dwelling. It takes us out of our ordinary routine and puts us in touch with nature.”
He also feels contact with sacred history: “Looking out from the Sukkah in the evening, we see the same full moon that our ancestors saw thousands of years ago. Singing songs in the Sukkah gives me a feeling of great rejoicing.”
I myself, though not Jewish, feel strong appreciation of the faith tradition of the Jewish people and owe much of my own to it. Our whole civilization is indebted to those who have preserved the observance of special days through much travail and tragedy over so many centuries.
The feast of Succot that we were privileged to observe as guests has a deeper meaning than is commonly realized. In fact, David Linghoffer, writing for the online site Beliefnet, calls this feast an “edgy encounter with the apocalyptic strain in Judaism.”
He sees it as the most radical of the Jewish days of celebration because it points to “the final triumph of God over evil” at the end of time. To him, it completes the cycle that begins with Rosh Hashanah and goes on to Yom Kippur. Those two feasts may suggest that a struggle between good and evil “must go on forever, with no hope of an ultimate victory.”
Sukkot, however, offers a “preview of what it will be like to experience the culmination and conclusion of the historical process” when God will be victorious and history will come to a glorious end.”
Richard Griffin