2 for Your Sukkah

#1

By properly performing the mitzvah of sukkah one is privileged to have a pure heart. That pure heart is your ticket to pouring out your heart to Hashem (God), telling Him your every concern.

The words you speak to Hashem are akin to ruach hakodesh.

OB: Our hearts lack purity because we are greedy. I don’t mean we are totally self-centered. I mean we indulge ourselves more than is necessary because we are selfish—we eat because we want to eat; we sleep because we want to sleep, etc. We focus on the pleasure for pleasure’s sake instead of doing what we need to do because we are responsible for taking care of our bodies.

But the primary mitzvah of sukkah—eating, drinking and sleeping withing its four walls—is an opportunity to re-focus, to remind ourselves that there is more to strive for. The quasi-roof of the sukkah (skhakh) may only be made from [1] materials that grow from the ground and [2] are insusceptible to tumah (ritual impurity). Part of the message of these qualifications is that we can elevate even the earthy to a higher-level of consciousness if we don’t corrupt it with impure motives and goals.

The openness of skhakh is flimsy from a material perspective. But from a spiritual perspective it is an invitation to realize higher levels of God-awareness. There is no pre-determined or fixed limit to how much you can grow. The limit is higher than the sky.

Once your hearts is freed—purified—from the petty pleasures of the body, she can speak openly to Hashem about her true concerns, about her aspirations and ambitions for coming close to Hashem. These words are not coming from a place within you that is constrained by your intellect. It is coming from an even more Divine, holy, point of contact that you have with Hashem. And it is even more than that, but what that “more” is cannot be told to you. You have to Divine/divine it yourself.

#2

Properly performing the mitzvah of sukkah:

  • Is a segulah (nostrum, preternatural charm) to have children.
  • Saves a person from strife and argument.
  • Sukkah dissipates falsehood and strengthens the truth.
  • Reveals the genuine rebbe of the era. This means that every person sees the truth and understands who is the genuine tzaddik who can bring people back to Hashem. As a result of the true tzaddik’s fame, even the nations of the world come closer to Hashem, all with one mind.

OB: A sukkah is the Shekhinah’s nest. Wherever you see a sukkah, you are looking at a place that is, or could be, a resting place for the Shekhinah. Being the Divine “Mother,” the Shekhinah can bring fertility with her. As we‘ve seen from our Zohar-based posts about Shabbos, the hallmark of the Shekhinah‘s presence is peace. True shalom cannot exist if people lie or are deceitful to one another, even if their intentions are noble. Sooner or later, the truth will slip out and there is no guarantee that everyone in the relationship will be able to maintain his/her pacific attitude in light of the revelations.

Finally, as we learn from Rebbe Nachman‘s story The Lost Princess, the tzaddik is the one who dedicates his life, his soul, his all, to finding the Shekhinah and bringing her back home. By locating ourselves in the Shekhinah’s (temporary) abode, the sukkah, we make ourselves more capable of receiving the tzaddik’s da’at (awareness, mind-set). First, moving out of our homes and into a sukkah is the Shekhinah-seeking that the tzaddik engages in. Second, by actually “dwelling” with the Shekhinah and re-focusing to a higher, tzaddik-like mind-set, we find the tzaddik‘s teachings—or they find us!

As is well-known, there were 70 korbanot (offerings) made on Sukkot in the Holy Temple. These korbanot were brought on behalf of the 70 non-Jewish nations of the world. Just as an individual becomes spiritual, more Jewish, so too the nations of the world become more Jewish.

 agut yomtov! Chag sameach!

© Copyright 2014 148west.com/O. Bergman

What is Teshuvah?

What is teshuvah? Teshuvah is change—change of behavior, change of heart and change of mind.

When we change from cheeseburgers to chulent, from bar-hopping to  beis midrash-going, and g’neivisheh shtick to kosher gelt, our new behaviors indicate (to others, but most importantly to ourselves) that other changes have taken place within us. Outside motions are sometimes nothing more than an act, but they are more often a test of our inner resolve.

Did we really have a change of heart? Did we really take stock of the gifts that Hashem Yisborakh (Blessed God) gave and gives us? Not just the sweet-tasting gifts, mind you, but the ones that make us sweat and put our shoulder to the grindstone, and the ones that make us weep. Did we stop to think about the gap between what we sense, what we intuit deep inside of our heart about what we know is the purpose of our life and what we really do, how we actually spend our time? Did we hear the inaudible scream of our heart that mourns the disconnect between our inborn Yiddishe neshamah and our lives hijacked by galus Edom (the current exile)?

Our outer changes give an indication that yes, we did. We felt, all things considered, life had to change, so we changed it. But our inner discontent, that nagging feeling that it’s not enough, that the gap is still too large, is a better indicator that our change of heart is still effective, still evolving, still pumping new life into our Yiddishkeit.

But after all this wonderful and necessary change, did we change our minds?

We all know the famous Gemara (Kiddushin 49b), that if a man says to a woman, “You are my wife on condition that I am a tzaddik,” she is married to him (if she said yes!). No matter what crimes he has done, no matter how often, no matter for how long he has been doing them, she is wife. Why? The Gemara explains, “Maybe he had a thought of teshuvah.”

He didn’t put on tzitzit or tefillin, didn’t give tzedakkah (charity) or drop his ham sandwich — yet. Nothing. But already, despite not doing anything positive, he is already a complete tzaddik because of one thought, “I will improve on my Jewishness.”

This Gemara has a flipside. If a man, even a known tzaddik, says to a woman, “You are my wife on condition that I am a rasha (villain),” she is married to him (if she said yes). Why? The Gemara explains, “Maybe he had a thought of idolatry.”

Another famous Gemara (Kiddushin 39b). A youngster climbs a tree to do the mitzvah of shiluach hakein at his father’s request, falls and dies. Acher didn’t understand how a person doing the two mitzvahs for which the holy Torah promises long life could die while doing them! The Gemara answers that the youngster had his thoughts focused on avodah zarah (idolatry). The value of what you do—including teshuvah—is set by your mind.

I once asked Reb Shlomo Freifeld zal why teshuvah is easier at the beginning stages, but becomes progressively harder as one continues his journey. He answered, “At first teshuvah is like cutting off a gangrened limb. Then it becomes brain surgery.” He was referring to the elimination of the many subtle traces of the poisonous influences that infect our motivation, our ego-worship and our greed among them.

I want to elaborate. We who have grown up in galus (exile), regardless which nation was our host, have been so attacked by goyish culture, attitudes and values that we are concussed. Without even realizing it, we have goals that our not Jewish, standards that are not Jewish, and ways and methods for dealing with ordinary (and extraordinary) situations that are not Jewish. (Of course, by “Jewish” I mean that which the holy Torah recommends or, at the very least, sanctions.)

That is, for the most part, we think like goyim. What’s worse is, we aren’t even aware that we do.

I’m not an anti-Esavian or an anti-Ishmaelite. On the contrary. I’m a member of the minute minority that holds that v’ahavta l’reiakha k’mokha means to love goyim as well. (Yes, there is such a pre-19th century deah.) Doesn’t mean I want to be one or think like one, God forbid.

The real test of our teshuvah—and do yourself a favor: be ready to be tested over and over for the rest of your life—is how we think when confronted with a challenge. Do we analyze, reflect and consider our challenge(s) solely by the Torah’s attitude? Or do we mix in some political doctrine, philosophical inquiry or scientific bias in trying to figure out what the desired outcome is and how we might achieve it?

Let me be a bit more blunt. When we have a problem, where do we go for a solution? To the Torah? Or, God forbid, to Google? When we need a modus operandi for a situation, do we search for it with a talmid chakham, a Jew saturated with Torah knowledge and experience, or some bright guy with a Ph.D.?*

Teshuvah never ends. Up to and including our dying moment, we have to be vigilant that what (and how) we do, what we want and how we see life, fits the Divine wisdom we call Torah. It’s not always easy—even with Rabbeinu zal, good friends and hisbodedus helping us—but, hey, God chose you. You can do it—if you want to.

 

*I am quite aware that the ability to give good advice is not produced only by knowledge and level of religious observance. It also requires seikhel!

 

© Copyright 2013 O. Bergman/148west.com