Iphicrates, a famous Athenian general, once fitted out his own fleet in the enemy’s manner, and sailed to a people he viewed with suspicion. When they welcomed him effusively and enthusiastically, he sacked their town, now that he had unmasked their treason. (Frontinus, Stratagems 4.7.23)

I decided to copy Iphicrates and use my Succah as a disguise. I am not your typical Jewish man; I can build a solid structure. (OK, I cheated and used a prefabricated structure.) I even bought some WD-40 and duct tape, although I have no idea what to do with them. I considered picking up a table-saw at Home Depot, but was too intimidated.

Tomorrow night I will pretend to be an outdoors kind of guy, tough enough to move outside when everyone else is moving in. No one will now that I am Jewish and I will be able to discover what “they’ think of us.

The Holocaust survivors who were the parents and grandparents of most of my friends growing up always spoke of them and us. “Them” meant Germans, Poles, Ukrainians, Hungarians, and pretty much everyone who wasn’t Jewish. There are few survivors still alive, but the “they”s and “them”s are still part of my vocabulary.

Who are “they”? The answer depends on whom you ask. “They” could be the soft-spined ‘statesmen’ who sat in the UN and, with the New York Times, ignored Bibi’s powerful speech. I don’t need a disguise to learn what they think of us.

“They” could be the J Street lobbyists intent on battling AIPAC and Israel, but I wouldn’t need a disguise to figure out what they think of me.

“They” could be the CEO, of a company for which I worked, a former congressman, who would spew his hateful bile towards frum Jews whenever drunk, which was quite often. No disguise necessary there.

“They” could be Jews who are embarrassed when we build our Succot and walk on the streets with our Lulavim and Etrogim, but “they” are usually not an enemy and no Iphicrates strategy is required.

The “they” is we. “They” are the people who observe the same laws and customs, but without passion and joy. “They” pray three times a day, every day. “They” thrill to Torah study, but often forget that God speaks to them through His Torah. “They” forget that we must sanctify God’s Name when we walk on the streets, when we interact with all the other “they”s of the world, when we do business with “them”; everything we do and say.

The Succah is not our Iphicratesian disguise to find our enemy; it is our opportunity to uncover the disguises we wear the rest of the year when we imagine that we live in our own little world enclosed by the walls of our homes and synagogues. The Succah, derived from the same root as “Yiskah” – to see – provides the clarity of vision to evaluate whether our Service of God is a masquerade or if it is real. Are we hiding in the safety of Torah or are we empowered by Torah and Avodah – Service – to engage the world with joy and confidence.

So, hand me the biggest table-saw you can find, and I will cut away the masks, costumes and camouflage, and you will see with me the beauty and promise of all the things we do within our walls and without.

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A rose may be a rose, but a willow is not an Aravah:

It is Succot for me whenever I drive on a road through trees. No matter the time of year, I am on the lookout for kosher Aravot – Willows – for my Lulav and Hoshanot.

There are magnificent Aravot in Dobb’s Ferry, but they aren’t kosher. The leaves’ edges are serrated, and since “Her (Torah’s) ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peaceful,” (Proverbs 3:17) sharp points, unpleasant and not peaceful, disqualify them.

Hastings on the Hudson has some “peaceful” leaves, but not the perfect combination of red and green branches.

Weeping Willows point down; they don’t reach up. The Z’man Simchateinu – the Time of Our Happiness – also precludes any weeping.

I’ve stopped on roads in New Hampshire, Maine, Vermont, Connecticut, to the chagrin of my wife and the Highway Patrol officers who suspect that someone who stops on a highway to examine willow leaves is DWI.

There are willows that grow near stagnant water. There are willows with round leaves. There are willows with white branches. There are even willows with leaves in the shape of triangles.

Willows are everywhere. The perfect Aravah is harder to find. I once trekked through the forests between Santa Clara and Santa Cruz for hours on a failed search for the perfect Aravah.

So, I go to Riverdale Judaica to buy my Aravot. The hours of searching make the two kosher Aravot so much more precious. They are treasured. There are willows everywhere, but these willows are not willows; they are Aravot.

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On the right-hand side of the Periodic Table is a set of elements known as the noble gases. “Noble” is an archaic, funny-sounding word, less chemistry than ethics or philosophy. And indeed, the term “noble gases” goes back to ancient Greece. There, in “The Symposium,” Plato claimed that every being longs to find its complement, its missing half. Abstract and unchanging things, he wrote, are intrinsically more noble than things that grub around and interact with gross matter. All objects are shadows of one imperfect type. All trees, for instance, are imperfect copies of an ideal tree, whose perfect “tree-ness” they aspire to. The same with fish and “fish-ness,” or even cups and “cup-ness.”

Most would say that Adam before the Sin, was the “ideal,” perfect human being. Yet, even Adam, was looking for his complement; “But as for man, he did not find a helper corresponding to him.” (Genesis 2:20) Our ideal human being is not “Noble,” according to Plato. The Wisest of all Men taught: “For there is no man so wholly righteous on earth that he always does good and never sins.” (Ecclesiastes 7:20) We have a different definition of Noble:

We leave the, shall we say Noble, heights of Yom Kippur for the imperfect structure known as a Succah. The roof certainly does not define “roof-ness,” the walls are not ideal walls that represent “wall-ness.” And yet, that is where we, who achieved our highest Nobility on Yom Kippur head as we strive to rise even higher!

Our definition of Noble is an ideal: An imperfect human being who acknowledges his imperfections and constantly elevates himself by improving in those areas. Our imperfect structures, flimsy if assembled by me, are Holy Places, Noble, if you would, a place where we can find and connect with the Divine Presence.

Succot takes us even higher than Yom Kippur, because it teaches us that our Nobility is found in our imperfect state.

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There are moments when I am so frustrated and upset that I cannot find the words to express my rage. English lacks the musical potency to insult with the same impact as Yiddish, but there are times when even Yiddish fails. (May your bones be broken as often as the Ten Commandments!” is too complicated for someone to understand that he has been insulted.) My wife’s Spanish saves the day: “Sos un idiota, un imbécil y un infeliz!” Ah! I feel so much better. Why is ‘idiota” more expressive than ‘idiot’? How does ‘imbecil’ work so much better than ‘imbecile’? I don’t know, but I can assure you that they really work.

It’s the final insult that carries the day: ‘y un infeliz!’ “You are unhappy!” It doesn’t sound so insulting in English, but in Spanish it is the ultimate insult.

If someone told me when I was a child that I was unhappy, I would have been insulted. Kids are expected, and expect themselves, to be happy. I am ashamed to say that there were periods of my adult life when I would have accepted the appellation of ‘Infeliz” as a sign of my seriousness and maturity. In fact, I regularly meet people who are happy being unhappy. They assume, as did I, that unhappiness indicates the perspective of years. Some believe that suffering brings us closer to God. I say to them: “Sos un infeliz!”

Succot is Z’man Simchateinu – The Time of Our Happiness. There is a Mitzvah to be happy. We step away from all the surface things that make us happy and search for our inner joy: the happiness that comes from being ourselves, appreciating our potential, and celebrating the possibilities of life. When we step outside our homes into the Succah we reject the label of ‘Infeliz’ and redefine ourselves as, well, forgive me, Simcha.

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The twelve-hour drive from Toronto for our annual Succot visit with my grandparents left me bruised, battered, and drained by all the fights my sister began with me. (I, of course, never started a fight.) We arrived in 1968, post riots Baltimore. Although I did not see burned out cars on my grandparents’ block, things were obviously different. There were no children playing on the street. There were bars on the windows of all the homes.

My first direct experience with the new realities was when I wanted to cross the gravel path that separated my grandparents’ backyard from the Yeshiva grounds. My grandmother warned that it wasn’t safe to walk alone. I was determined to show that I was not scared and I ran out of the house.

A group of teenagers stopped me on the path, but, thank God, just at that moment my giant cousin Sheftel, (now Rav Sheftel Neuberger, the Menahel of Yeshivas Ner Yisroel) was walking toward us and the kids ran. I made it to the Yeshiva.

Unfortunately, I had to eventually return to the house. I waited for my grandfather so I could walk home with him, although I wondered what my, in my mind, ancient, and nearly blind, grandfather could possibly do to protect me. There was nothing to fear. The neighborhood kids were in awe of the great Rabbi and wouldn’t dare come near us.

The man, who had always been a super-hero of Torah and righteousness, now became as great as Superman in my mind. So, despite the new dangers, I didn’t hesitate to sleep in the Succah; my grandfather’s presence would protect me.

Perhaps my grandmother was slightly upset that I had ignored her warnings about the path. She didn’t want her husband to sleep in the Succah because he had a cold. I guess even super-heroes must obey their wives. I would have to sleep alone in the Succah.

Don’t believe the comic books: Super powers are not automatically passed down to the next generation. I knew that, as I was not a Tzaddik – please see “Why I’m Not A Tzaddik” for the explanation – and would not be safe without my grandfather at my side.

My sister, the one determined that I would never be a Tzaddik, commented in her sweetest voice (which was not very sweet at all, if you ask me): “So you feel safer with Zaidy than you do with Hashem. I told you that you would never be a Tzaddik.” I had to sleep in the Succah, placing all my trust in God. I was hoping that my dear, beloved grandmother, who was so concerned for my safety, would prohibit me from sleeping alone, and that I, the future Tzaddik, would have to obey as I (almost) always did. No way! She looked at me with a strange smile and offered to gather the blankets and pillows I needed for my big Mitzvah.

It was a wonderful experience. I walked into the Succah and felt completely safe. I actually felt safer in the Succah than I did in the house! Perhaps there really was hope that I could become a Tzaddik. I slept like a baby, caught a cold, and was forced to sleep inside the rest of Succot.

I still feel safe in my succah. My home in Saratoga Springs bordered on the training track for the harness horses, a very unsafe place. The racetrack workers intimidated even the local police. No matter, because I felt perfectly safe in my Succah, although I did wake up with ice in my beard. My Succah on West End Ave. in New York City was behind my building. It was pre-Guliani and unsafe, and many people considered me crazy for sleeping outside, but, again, I felt perfectly safe and secure.

The roof is incompletely covered with S’chach, there are open spaces through which we can see the stars. The Succah provides both light and shade. It reflects the fluctuations in our relationship with God. There are times we “see” God’s Presence with clarity, and there are times when we experience God as hidden. We can sense God’s protection some of the time, and at others we feel more vulnerable. People often feel that a relationship that fluctuates is unstable and insecure. Yet, for me, the place I feel most safe is in the Succah, the very place that reflects the highs and lows in my relationship with God. After Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, I know that despite the times when I experience God as hidden, that I will once again find the light. Yes, there are times when I feel vulnerable, but I know that the protection will return. It is a relationship with ups and downs as every relationship. It is a relationship in which I can feel secure. Perhaps that is why there is no place where I feel as safe as when I am in my Succah.

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Poem 1742

The distance that the dead have gone

Does not at first appear –

Their coming back seems possible

For many an ardent year.

And then, that we have followed them,

We more than half suspect,

So intimate have we become

With their dear retrospect.

Emily Dickinson

Gathering, as in Chag Ha’Assif, describes how we would collect and store our bundles of crops. There was a sense of security in having a full barn. There was the joy of seeing the tangible fruits of months of physical labor, hope, faith, and prayers.

The security and joy of a full silo are absent in our spiritual lives. It is next to impossible to calculate the results of our prayers, Mitzvot, and Torah study.

No wonder ‘gathering’ also refers to death, the only point at which we can measure our life’s work. It is then we receive gift of retrospect.

Here we are, the leaves are falling, summer is fading, (at least, above the equator,) and we celebrate in Z’man Simchateinu- the Time of Our Happiness, – Simachot also being a euphemism for death – finding joy in forethought, not retrospect.

Unlike Emily Dickinson, I feel closer to the long dead Abraham, Moses, King David, Rashi and the Ramchal not in the intimacy of retrospect but in looking forward to life.

The double entendres of ‘Asifa’ & ‘Simcha’ are a challenge: Do we seek clarity in retrospect or forethought?

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Debbie and I were walking around Central Park when we heard magnificent singing. We followed the sound until we found a family singing a song from the Sound of Music. Their voices were angelic. It was the Boyd Family, and what a beautiful family it is! (You can email Mr. Boyd to purchase his CDs.)

Mr. Boyd, dressed in everyday clothes, projects a sense of rare dignity. I found myself speaking to him with care and respect simply because of who he is. I can’t accurately describe the experience, other than to say that this total stranger has such grace, inner beauty, dignity and goodness, that one can only speak to him as one would to a king.

His children reflected his beautiful qualities. They too were dressed in street clothes. They were typical teenagers in appearance, but far more in posture and bearing. The beauty of their joyful singing was surpassed by the grace of their essence.They sang one of Mr. Boyd’s compositions and had the entire audience enthralled and clapping along with feeling. They lifted all of us, New Yorkers and tourists, people from all over the world, Buddhists, Christians, Jews and Moslems.

How often does one have an opportunity to see a family united in such joy and love? How often do we see a family that inspires us on so many levels? Such beauty is rare.

I wondered why God wanted me to experience this just before Succot. “Beauty” stuck in my mind. We are charged to observe God’s commandments with beauty; a beautiful Succah, a beautiful Lulav, and, most of all, a beautiful Etrog. The Boyd family taught me that the beauty is not just in the object of the commandment, but must be part of the person while observing God’s commandments.

Thank you, Mr. Boyd. Thank you Boyd Family. You taught me to be a beautiful person while shaking my beautiful Lulav. You reminded me to project that rare quality of inner beauty while holding my Etrog.

If only….

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He is sitting in his living room studying a scroll he inherited for Methusaleh, his wife preparing dinner, his kids in cheder, when God appears to Noah: “The end of all flesh has come before Me, for the earth is filled with corruption through them; and behold, I am about to destroy them from the earth. Make for yourself an Ark…I will establish My covenant with you, and you shall enter the Ark…” (Genesis 6:13-21)

I don’t know about you, but if God appeared to me and gave those instruction, I would feel pretty good about myself. He is going to destroy the earth, but will save my family, me, and make a covenant with me!

I imagine that when God appears the person experiences total clarity, so, it is safe to assume that Noah knew that God liked him. Yet, the Sages question the Torah’s praises of Noah. Some say he was the real thing, while others say that he was only considered a righteous man in his generation; compared to his contemporaries. Why do the Sages qualify the Torah’s praises of Noah?

Because Noah did! “Then God said to Noah, ‘Come to the Ark, you and all your household, for it is you that I have seen to be righteous before Me in this generation.’” (7:1) Why did God add “for it is you that I have seen to be righteous before Me” only at the point when Noah had to enter the Ark?

It seems as if Noah did not appreciate that God was saving him because of his righteousness. Even after receiving a prophecy, defined as absolute clarity (Derech Hashem, 3:3:4), Noah did not feel that God chose him because of his righteousness. Some clarity was missing. Noah, the “Righteous man, perfect in his generations (See “Noah, Man of Clarity”), Noah walked with the Lord,” (6:9) did not perceive himself as a Tzaddik, and refused to believe that God chose him because of his righteousness. Noah had a vision problem. (See “All Sorts of Arks,” and “The View From The Window”)

Noah had to learn to appreciate himself before he could successfully rebuild the earth. The Tzohar, that shone the Ark’s light outward, was to teach him to see his own inner light. He had to see, appreciate and honor the light of someone who could stand up to more than a century of ridicule, dedicate 120 years to building the Ark without hearing God’s voice again until just before the flood, and care for the animals day and night. The light in the Ark was Noah’s inner light. The Tzohar took that illumination and shone it outward. The world was dead, dark and empty. The inside of the Ark was teeming with life and filled with light. Noah had to see that light, for he would need it once he stepped out of the Ark.

We spent most of the month of Tishrei inside the Ark of intense holidays, all filled with light. The light we experienced was our inner light, and the Tzohar of the Succah, the open spaces in the S’chach reminded us that we can shine that light outward, beyond the walls of the Succah, the Ark of the Holidays.

We must spend time reflecting on the inner light we saw over Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Succot and Simchat Torah, so that we are fully prepared to step away from the Ark back into the world and continue to shine as we build a better world.

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Can you explain for me, please, how come that its written that ‘HASHAFAN KI MA’ALEI GEIRA’ – ‘And the Hyrax, for it brings up its cud, but its hoof is not split – it is unclean to you.’ (Leviticus 11:5) when it’s against nature. So which one is the truth? Life or Torah in this case” E.G.

Thank you for your great and super important question. You are correct in stating that the Hyrax does not chew its cud. The Wikipedia entry for Hyrax says: Unlike the even-toed ungulates and some of the macropods, hyraxes do not chew cud to help extract nutrients from coarse, low-grade leaves and grasses. They do, however, have complex, multi-chambered stomachs that allow symbiotic bacteria to break down tough plant materials, and their overall ability to digest fiber is similar to that of the ungulates. They will show antagonistic behavior, such as making chewing motions, when they feel threatened. This behavior is often times confused with chewing cud. There are reports that the Hyrax can chew regurgitated food, however, this is infrequent and they do not do this for nutrition or as part of their diet.

One of the most important phrases in the article is that “They will show antagonistic behavior, such as making chewing motions, when they feel threatened. This behavior is often times confused with chewing cud.” The Hyrax, as well as the hare or rabbit in the following verse, appears to chew its cud. There are times that appearances matter.

Look up at the roof, the S’chach, of a Succah. There are both shade and light. The roof is incompletely covered with S’chach; there are open spaces through which we can see the stars. It reflects the fluctuations in our relationship with God. There are times we “see” God’s Presence with clarity, and there are times when we experience God as hidden. We can sense God’s protection some of the time, and at others we feel more vulnerable.

Some of the great Jewish thinkers see the open spaces as representations of God’s Light and the shaded areas as indications of God’s being Hidden. Other, equally great thinkers, see the shade as a symbol of Divine Protection and the open spaces as a mark of our vulnerabilities. Different people have different perceptions and they are both considered valid because of this strange verse about the Hyrax:

We do not know God as God truly is. God is Infinite and we are limited. We ‘know’ only that which God makes manifest. We understand only what we can see.

Even what we see is limited by our experiences. It is almost impossible to describe the difference between two colors to someone who was born blind and never saw colors. We fit our ‘knowledge” of God into our experiences and senses, which are limited.

We use appellations to speak of God: Merciful, Compassionate, Judge, Omnipotent, Omnipresent and The Power. We may not pronounce God’s name as spelled. We actually speak of our perceptions.

Both the Written and Oral laws govern our covenant with God. We use the principles of the Oral Law to apply the Mitzvot of the Torah to modern life. We cannot simply email God for His ruling on the laws of Shabbat or Kashrut. We rely on our judgment and perceptions. We would be unable to move forward and apply Halacha as we do to every single aspect of life if we could only deal with absolute truth. We must use the gifts we have, including our perceptions, as long as they are governed by the principles of the Oral Law.

When the Torah describes the Hyrax as it is perceived, not as it physically is, God is teaching us that we may apply His law based on our perceptions, even if we eventually determine that we are made a serious factual error.

You asked, “Which is true?” We know that the Hyrax does not chew its cud. We also know that the Torah says that we perceive that it does, and that the Torah wants us to consider our perceptions in our relationship with God and in the application of His Torah to our lives, even at the risk of being wrong.

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I slept in the Succah with my grandfather zt”l and was determined to stay up and learn as long as he was awake. After all, how could I possibly become like him if I didn’t study as assiduously?

It actually wasn’t that difficult because I was reading a set of books about the Chofetz Chaim. I was enthralled and when I eventually fell asleep I dreamt of growing up to be the next Chofetz Chaim. I woke up determined to never again speak a word of Lishon Harah – destructive speech. I calmly reported my new mission in life to my father at the festival meal, and he was supportive of the general idea, although he suggested that perhaps I begin with smaller steps. “But then I won’t be the Chofetz Chaim. He started with giant steps!”

“First of all, I’m not sure that is true. Second of all, why do you want to be a Tzaddik like someone else? Be a Tzaddik as you.” OK, he was right, but still, I wanted to tackle the Lishon Harah issue. My sister carefully listened to the conversation and calmly predicted that my life as a Tzaddik would not last the day!

She did whatever she could to provoke me. I refused to respond. “Hey! Maybe this Tzaddik thing is not as hard as they say.” So, although she continues to deny her evil deeds more than forty years later, she kicked me. I cried. Our older sister, a true Tzaddeiket, came running asking, “What happened?” “She kicked me!”

There went my Tzaddik plans. “You spoke Lishon Harah!” she said as she calmly walked away. Not even a day, and there were holes in my armor.

Why am I not a Tzaddik? It’s my sister’s fault.

I believed as a child, as do many people, even adults, that a Tzaddik had to be perfect. But it’s not true. Simply look up at the roof of your Succah and you will see holes throughout the S’chach. The Succah is an imperfect structure and yet it is holy. Even holy people have gaps in their spiritual armor, and they are still holy.

So, why am I not a Tzaddik? Because I continue to struggle to accept the gaps in the S’chach and the giant holes in my armor. Hopefully, this year, the Succah will finally get its message through my head.

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