October 2001 - תִּשְּׁרֵי .. חֶשְׁוָן תשס״ב Tishrei..Cheshvan 5762

A Modern Sukkot Midrash

L'mah hadavar domeh? To what is this incident to be compared? To a rabbi's family that had built a beautiful sukkah. Everyone, Jew and non-Jew would come during Sukkot to see the magnificent simple structure, with its three sides and the see-through roof covered with branches. The rabbi's family decorated the sukkah with great love, hanging fruit and homemade decorations. Everyone could see the joy that the Jewish people experienced in their sukkot during this Fall Thanksgiving holiday.

One day an anti-Semite saw a picture of the sukkah in the local paper and he hated the Jewish people for having so much joy. In the middle of a cloudy, dark night (it had to be cloudy because Sukkot occurs during the full moon) he came and burned the sukkah down to the ground. The fire was so intense that even the cinder blocks that held up the corners melted in the flames. (Fortunately the flames did not spread to the rabbi's house!)

The next day, as the word spread, the rabbi's family's Jewish friends came over. They wept and they hugged. They were silent and they became angry. They were hurt and they were frightened. But most of all they just stared at the charred remains of what had once been the most beautiful sukkah.

Soon the neighbors came. They began to cry too. But one neighbor went back to his house and came back with a wheelbarrow and a shovel. Immediately everyone knew what had to be done. Everyone, Jews and non-Jews, picked up tools and began clearing away the debris. Without a sound everyone together committed to rebuilding the sukkah, bigger and more beautiful than before.

When word got out, some of the men and women at the local labor hall came with heavy equipment. “We'll build you a sukkah that no one will every again be able to destroy. We'll dig a deep hole and pour cement walls and roof so think that it could withstand anything!” The rabbi cried with joy as he explained that a sukkah could not be an underground bunker, nor could its walls be so permanent as to be made of concrete. The rabbi's children sat with the workers and told them the story of the Exodus from Egypt and how the Jews lived in temporary sukkot. The rabbi's spouse brought them something to drink and explained that the sukkah had to be temporary and fragile. The workers blushed a little for not knowing, but soon said “you may not need the heavy machinery but we have the ability to help you build.” And they did.

As the building continued a Christian neighbor came and said “We use palm branches for Easter, so I brought you some branches for the roof of the sukkah.” A Hindu neighbor brought some fruit from her shrine to hang in the sukkah, and a Buddhist neighbor brought some flowers to decorate. A Muslim neighbor asked if he could spread a prayer rug for the floor of the sukkah. The rabbi was speechless and could only nod in approval. So much love went into the rebuilding of the sukkah that everyone agreed a more beautiful sukkah would simply never be built.

What did the rabbi do? The rabbi thanked God for the harvest and the Exodus from Egypt. But most of all the rabbi thanked God for all of the good people in the world.

Chag Sukkot samayach! Happy Sukkot!

—Rabbi Harry A. Manhoff, Ph.D.

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