In the Shade of the Sukkah

Today I performed a most joyous task.  I decorated my sukkah.  With blue skies, temperatures in the mid 70′s and the trees in my back yard providing a splendid backdrop of yellow and red, I spent several hours arranging the cornstalks on the s’chach (roof), placing Indian corn, pumpkins and mums in various arrangements, and hanging a beaded pendant light over the rectangular table in the center of it all.  After placing a harvest theme tablecloth on the table and preparing to arrange the Lulav and Etog upon it, I felt as if something was missing, something very important.  As I scanned the sukkah and tried to determine what could possibly be amiss, it dawned on me . . . the etrog plant. 

Last year was the first time I purchased a kosher Lulav and Etrog set for Sukkot.  After the holiday was over I planted a dozen of the etrog seeds in anticipation of cultivating a plant of my own.  The 12 seeds produced several healthy seedlings with one in particular that grew vigorously and strong.  I gave away all the seedlings except the one that was most vigorous and healthy which I placed in a southern exposure window of my home.  I wondered how big my etrog plant would be for Sukkot ’08 and thought about how nice it would be to have such a plant to adorn the sukkah. 

The plant grew rapidly and the leaves began to multiply for the first three months.  Then suddenly, in January, I noticed that the plant was beginning to fail.  No amount of special attention did any good.  Within a month the leaves were blackened and withered.  My healthy vigorous young etrog plant died. Unfortunately, the seedlings I gave away to others suffered the same fate, none of them survived beyond three months after sprouting. 

In studying the book of Jonah with my Torah Community this past Yom Kippur afternoon, I couldn’t help but find myself interested by the fact that Jonah built a sukkah near the conclusion of the sefer, and had a very unusual experience with a plant that sprouted up and died quickly. 

 Jonah left the city (Nineveh) and sat at the east of the city.  He made himself a booth (sukkah) there, and sat under it in the shade until he would see what would occur in the city.  HaShem, G-d, designated a kikayon, which rose up above Jonah to form shade over his head, to relieve him from his discomfort.  Jonah rejoiced over the kikayon, a great joy.  Then G-d designated a worm at dawn of the next day, and it attacked the kikayon so that it withered.  And it was when the sun shone that G-d designated a stifling east wind; the sun beat upon Jonah’s head and he felt faint.  He asked for his soul’s death, and said “Better is my death than my life!” (Jonah 4:5-9 Stone Edition Tanach). 

Interestingly, according to rabbinic halachah, the defining characteristic of a sukkah is that it produces shade.  According to Rashi, the structure is called a “sukkah” on account of the shade, since it provides shelter (mesukakh) from the heat.  The first mishna in tractate Sukkah (Talmud) rules that a sukkah must produce more shade than sun. Many halachic rulings in this tractate involve how shade may or may not be produced.  Because of this, the s’chach, or thatched roof of the sukkah which produces shade, is given much attention and is of major importance.   

A sukkah is not permitted to be built indoors because within a building there is no possibility of experiencing the shade from the s’chach.  A sukkah may not be built beneath a tree for it is the s’chach that is to produce its shade. The height of the sukkah may not exceed 20 cubits (30 feet) for the shadow cast from the roof would not reach the floor of the structure. A sukkah taller than 30 feet high would find its primary source of shade to be the walls rather than the roof and such an exceedingly high sukkah would cause the resident to be unaware of the s’chach above him. 

The explanation of the Talmud presents a recurring theme; that the occupants of a sukkah must experience shade produced by the s’chach.  The requirement is not simply that there is shade, but that the shade is experienced.  Symbolism alone is insufficient, for the rabbis are concerned that a religious experience takes place. 

The typical explanation for the sukkah is that it symbolizes the booths in which the Israelites dwelled during their journey through the desert. Yet this understanding is not as simple as it seems at first glance. Leviticus relates that they dwelled in sukkot, but does not say what those sukkot were. The rabbis debated exactly what this meant. In the Sifra, the halakhic midrash to Leviticus, we find the following dispute:

R. Eliezer says: They were real sukkot. R. Akiba says: The sukkot were the clouds of glory.

For R. Eliezer the Israelites dwelled in real booths in the desert. For R. Akiba, however, the Israelites did not reside in booths at all. They dwelled amidst the “clouds of glory,” that marked the presence and radiance of God. R. Akiba’s opinion became the majority rabbinic interpretation. It is found in the targums (the Aramaic translations of the Torah), in later midrashim, and in medieval codes. Thus the dominant trend in Jewish thought never pictured the exodus generation dwelling in leafy huts but rather in glorious clouds.

Two main considerations influenced R. Akiba. First, the word sukkah in the Bible sometimes refers to a cloud-covering. The Psalmist describes the celestial manifestation of God in vivid imagery: “He made darkness his covering, his canopy (sukkah) around him– the dark rain clouds of the sky (Ps 18:11).” Likewise Job 36:29 relates: “Who can understand how he spreads out the clouds, how he thunders from his pavilion (sukkah)?”

Thus a cloud can be described as a “sukkah”; the terms can be used synonymously. Second, while booths are never mentioned in the exodus narratives, clouds are always found around the Israelite camp. G-d provided a pillar of cloud to lead the Israelites in the desert and speaks to Moses from the midst of the cloud. G-d also appears above the tent of meeting in the form of a cloud. Ironically, the pillar of cloud first appears at a place called . . . Sukkot (Exodus 30:20-21)!

Therefore the leafy sukkah is built as a means of experiencing the shade of G-d’s presence, protection and love that Israel experienced via the clouds of glory in the wilderness. A sukkah that is flooded with sunlight or that involves a hot and stifling environment negates the very purpose of the mitzvah. From this one can understand why Jonah was so elated by the miraculous shade HaShem provided for his sukkah by means of the kikayon, and why he fell into despair when the plant withered, died and the shade was no more.

Another example of a sukkah lacking shade is found in the Talmudic account of Avodah Zarah 3a-b, in which the Gentile nations during the Messianic age request that G-d offer them the Torah anew so they can obey it and receive reward.  G-d gives them one command to perform, the mitzvah of building and residing in the sukkah.  Immediately the Gentiles construct sukkot on the roofs of their homes so everyone can witness their diligence and obedience.  Yet, G-d sees fit to cause the sun to blaze over them “as the summer solstice” with severe intensity.  The frustrated Gentiles destroy their sukkot and go away. The sages point out that according to halachah the Gentiles had every right to leave the sukkot for one is not commanded to reside in a sukkah under conditions that cause discomfort (such as pouring rain, extreme cold or extreme heat).  Yet in destroying the booths the Gentiles make it impossible to return and experience the spiritually significant environment of the sukkah at a more opportune time.

Jonah refused to leave his uncomfortable sun-drenched sukkah and fell into despair.  The Gentiles of Avodah Zarah 3a-b refused to return to their sukkahs after a time of discomfort due to sun and heat, and ended up in denial.  Both reactions were wrong.  For the purpose of the sukkah is to provide the physical reality of shade in order to experience in a tangible way a manifestation of G-d’s presence, protection and love.

. . . . . . . . .

Though my plans to have an etrog plant as part of my sukkah décor this year did not come to fruition, in reality the plant would not have contributed to the purpose of the sukkah anyway. Truth is, my sukkah is very shady because it sits on the deck at the back of my house facing a northern exposure.  Because the sun at this time of year hangs low in the southern sky, the shadow of my house envelopes the sukkah most of the day, except for a tiny bit of time at sunrise and sunset in which a few rays of natural sunlight will fall upon the structure.  More than likely my sukkah would not meet strict halachic standards due to this.

Unlike Jonah or the frustrated Gentiles in the Talmud, I never have to be concerned that it will be too sunny or unbearably hot to reside within my sukkah.  With the 7 day weather forecast calling for mild and sunny days and little chance of rain ahead, I anticipate spending many wonderful hours experiencing the spiritual delights of this season of Sukkot. 

Yet, the lessons of the sun-soaked sukkah touched me over this past week.  For like Jonah I must be careful of falling into despair and not moving on in areas where G-d’s protection and guidance are no longer evident.  Like the frustrated Gentiles I must be careful of “burning bridges” that might make it impossible to return to situations where G-d’s love and protection may be awaiting me at a more opportune time. 

Perhaps after Sukkot is over I will once again attempt to grown an etrog plant.  Who knows?  It may just sprout up with the fervor of Jonah’s gourd this time!  If that’s the case I’ll surely give it a little nickname to help me remember the lessons G-d has shown me this season  . . . the lesson of . . . . kikayon.

When God Hates

To this day I have trouble saying “I hate” someone.  This stems from my upbringing.  I was raised in a house in which there was absolutely no swearing, and never were we allowed to say that we “hated” a person.  I remember clearly the expression on my mother’s face when the “h” word was used toward a person.  She would get very stern and explain that we should never say that we “hate” someone because “saying you hate them is the same as wishing they were dead”.   Now it was fine to use the “h” word in other ways.  I could say that I “hate” beets (unfortunately one of my father’s favorite vegetables), or that I “hate” to iron clothes (the one job mom always gave me to do).  It was even acceptable to say that I “hated” a person’s attitude (crabby, mean etc.).  But it was totally unacceptable to ever say the “hate” word in regards to a person themselves. That’s why last week’s Haftorah reading for Toldot (Malachi 1:1-2:7) contains a verse that has always made me bristle; 

 An oracle: The word of the LORD to Israel through Malachi.  “I have loved you,” says the LORD. “But you ask, ‘How have you loved us?’ “Was not Esau Jacob’s brother?” the LORD says. “Yet I have loved Jacob, but Esau I have hated, and I have turned his mountains into a wasteland and left his inheritance to the desert jackals.” (Malachi 1:1-3 NIV). 

Ouch!!  There’s the “h” word, used against a person (Esau) and coming from the very mouth of God Himself.  Through Torah Club 3 I learned that this “h” word in Hebrew is “sana” which really does mean to “hate” in all the senses of the word.  Hate is such an ugly word, defined as “a feeling of dislike so strong that it demands action” and “a desire to avoid, restrict, remove, or destroy its object”.  Is it really possible for God to “hate”, at least in the way we define the word as human beings??  What about the fact that “God is love”? 

 

The Hebrew word “sana” is used over 130 times in the Tanakh, most often to describe the hatred of men toward God (through disbelief and disobedience), or the hatred of men toward men (enemies).  Yet, there are a handful of times when God is described as hating including: 

God Hating Acts of Injustice Toward Others 

Proverbs 6: 16-19 There are six things the LORD hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil,  a false witness who pours out lies and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers. 

Is 61:8    For I, the LORD, love justice; I hate robbery and iniquity. In my faithfulness I will reward them and make an everlasting covenant with them. 

 

Zech 8:17   do not plot evil against your neighbor, and do not love to swear falsely. I hate all this,” declares the LORD.

 Malachi 2:16 “I hate divorce,” says the LORD God of Israel, “and I hate a man’s covering himself with violence as well as with his garment,” says the LORD Almighty. So guard yourself in your spirit, and do not break faith. 

 

 

God Hating Adoration (worship) that is Insincere or Mixed with Idolatry 

Amos 5:21 21  I hate, I despise your religious feasts; I cannot stand your assemblies. Isaiah 1:14 Your New Moon festivals and your appointed feasts my soul hates. They have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them.  

Hosea 9:15 15  “Because of all their wickedness in Gilgal, I hated them (Ephraim) there. Because of their sinful deeds, I will drive them out of my house. I will no longer love them; all their leaders are rebellious. 

 

God Hating Attitudes of Rebellion and Self-Sufficiency 

Amos 6:8  The Sovereign LORD has sworn by himself–the LORD God Almighty declares: “I abhor the pride of Jacob and detest (hate/sana) his fortresses; I will deliver up the city and everything in it.” 

I can handle the fact that God would hate actions or attitudes.  But there is only one verse in all of scripture (that I could find) in which God says he hates a person, and that person is Esau in Malachi 1:3.  So what does this really mean?  Torah Club 3 offered two basic interpretations:    God’s Love for Jacob Makes His Love for Esau “Look” Like Hate. 

 

-This is a popular interpretation that I have heard preached and taught many times.  God is love, so he really can’t hate anyone.  His love for Jacob is just so big and awesome that His love for Esau seems like hatred in comparison.  Unfortunately this interpretation does not consider the actual definition of “sana” which is to “hate”.  

 Those God Chooses He Loves.  Those He Does Not Choose He Hates. 

 

-This interpretation can be looked at in two ways.  First, that God chose Israel before the earth was formed, to inherit eternal salvation, not due to any merit on Jacob’s part, but simply because it was God’s sovereign choice, this is the same as God loving him.  God’s not choosing Esau for eternal salvation, and allowing him to live out his natural inborn rejection of God (and suffering the consequences) is the same as hating him.   

Second, God’s use of “love” and “hate” can refer to his covenantal relationship with Jacob and Esau.  That God “chose” to establish His covenant with Jacob (and enter into a personal relationship with him) = love.  That God “chose” not to enter into a covenant relationship with Esau = hate.   

 

Putting it all together, love has to do with relating, hate has to do with rejecting.  What God chooses he relates to.  What God doesn’t choose he rejects.  So, in the above scriptures we could say that God hates actions and attitudes that are not his choice or will for his people.  He can’t relate and won’t be involved with individuals who are showing injustice toward others, worshipping insincerely, involved in idolatry and/or having attitudes of pride and self-sufficiency.  That’s what it means that God hate these things. 

But the scary part is that God not only “hates” attitudes and actions, he also hates people.  Those God chooses to inherit eternal salvation and/or be part of a covenant relationship with Him are the ones he relates to (and loves).  Those he does not chose he does not relate to and allows them to go on their merry way and suffer the eternal consequences, are the ones he hates.   

Wow!  This is hard!!  How can God be love and yet hate people by not choosing to have mercy on them?  Paul sums it up in Romans 9:18 (using Malachi 1:3 as a teaching verse) that: 

He has mercy on whom He desire, and He hardens whom He desires  

 Paul makes it clear that there is no injustice with God (Romans 9:14).  That God is perfectly just in choosing some people and not others (apart from personal merit or biological genealogy, i.e. being Abraham’s descendents).  

 

You see, I think we have it all backwards when it comes to God.  We want to think it’s unfair that he doesn’t “choose” everyone and that he would allow some (actually many) people to go their own ways in life, because to us it seems unloving.  In reality God is not obligated to choose anyone.  It would be perfectly right and fair if he left all of us to go on our merry way into death and eternal condemnation.  God shows His incredible love in the fact that He does choose some to be His own and to inherit salvation.  God’s love is shown in the fact that He desires to call a people to Himself, John sums it up like this (in the passage where he twice says that “God is love”) 

 

This is love: not that we loved (or chose) God, but that he loved (chose) us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. (1 John 4:10 NIV) 

 

The difference between God’s hatred of individuals and man’s hatred of individuals has to do with the results.  When God chooses not to have mercy on someone and not to choose individuals to inherit eternal life, this choice is inevitably leading to the goal of a restored and perfect world in which there will be no evil, death or sin.  When I choose to not have mercy on someone or to hate someone the result is bitterness, pain, and alienation.  It’s the same as wishing someone were dead.  I guess Mom was right all along.