Rebbetzen Tziporah: Succos

 Dear friends,

As Sukkot approaches, I’ve been thinking about something that struck me in the very first place where the Torah mentions a sukkah.

It is when Yaakov returns home. The Torah tells us that he builds a bayit for himself, but makes sukkot for his animals.

I find that distinction fascinating. Yaakov needs a house for himself – a place that is solid, stable and protective. But the animals get a sukkah.

Animals have an important place in Torah thought. We draw close to Hashem through the animal world; after all, animals are what we bring as korbanot. There is something very deep about taking the animal part of creation and directing it upward.

But there is another side to it. We also have to be careful that the “animal self” doesn’t end up directing us instead of the other way around. Perhaps this is part of what we are thinking about during Sukkot, when the seventy bulls decrease day by day until, at the end, there is only one. We move from the many nations toward the one nation that has its own particular relationship with Hashem.

So perhaps there are two things happening at once: the bayit that Yaakov builds for himself symbolizes strength and protection, while the sukkah reminds us that even the animal part of ourselves can be brought into the relationship with Hashem.

And that made me think about a different question: What actually protects a person?

I’ve been thinking about three foundations: metziut Hashem – Hashem’s presence and reality; Torah; and hashgachah pratis.

They are really three different dimensions of living with Hashem.

First: Metziut – Hashem is really there

The first thing we need is the most basic thing of all: the awareness that Hashem is not an idea. He is there.

That sounds obvious, but perhaps it is the hardest thing to live with consistently.

There are times when Hashem’s presence is easy to feel. There are moments of beauty, of unexpected kindness, of tefillah that suddenly feels real. And then there are other times when the world seems almost designed to make His presence difficult to see.

Water is a wonderful metaphor for this. It has no fixed form. It moves, changes shape and refuses to be held in place.

Sometimes life feels like that. We know what we thought Hashem was going to do, and then He does something completely different. We ask, “Where is He?” Not because we have stopped believing, but because the reality in front of us doesn’t look anything like the reality we expected.

Moshe asked questions. Rabbi Akiva had to confront a world that seemed impossible to understand. The fact that we have questions does not mean that Hashem has disappeared. Perhaps one of the deepest forms of emunah is learning that His presence does not depend on my ability to see what He is doing.

The sukkah itself is an interesting response to this. We leave the house – the place where we feel that we are protected by walls, locks, furniture and all the things we have arranged ourselves – and sit in a structure that is deliberately temporary.

And somehow, that is where we are supposed to feel safe.

Second: Torah – Hashem has something to say to us

But knowing that Hashem exists is not enough.

If Hashem is there, the next question is: What does He want from me?

That is where Torah comes in.

The midbar is almost the opposite of water. Water is everywhere but has no form. The midbar is a place where there seems to be nothing. No civilization, no obvious resources, no comfortable infrastructure.

And yet that is precisely where we received the Torah.

Perhaps one of the challenges of living in the modern world is the feeling that Torah is somehow impossible. We look around and see a society with completely different assumptions about what matters, what is desirable, what constitutes success, and even what it means to be a good person.

Sometimes the question isn’t, “Does Hashem exist?”

It is, “Can I actually live according to what He asks of me?”

The answer of the midbar is that Torah doesn’t depend on the environment being friendly to it.

The Torah was given in a desert.

And perhaps that is why the Torah is not merely a book of information. It is a way of turning the awareness of Hashem into a way of life. It tells us what to do with our hands, our money, our speech, our relationships, our appetites, our anger, our time and our homes.

It takes the belief that Hashem is there and turns it into something concrete.

Third: Hashgachah pratis – and Hashem is there in my particular life

But there is still one more step.

It is possible to believe that Hashem created the world, that He gave us the Torah, and still feel that somehow my little life is just one tiny piece of an enormous machine.

That is where hashgachah pratis comes in.

Yerushalayim and the Beit HaMikdash give us a beautiful picture of this.

Thousands of people could be standing in the same place, looking at the same Mikdash, participating in the same avodah – and yet each person stood there as an individual.

Hashem’s relationship with us is not only with “the Jewish people” in some abstract sense.

It is with me.

My particular life. My particular circumstances. The people I happen to meet. The opportunities that come my way. The disappointments I didn’t plan. The things that open unexpectedly. The things that don’t open no matter how hard I try.

Hashgachah pratis is the belief that my life is not just a collection of unrelated events.

That doesn’t mean that I understand the reason for everything that happens. Quite the opposite. Very often I have absolutely no idea why something happened.

But I don’t have to understand the whole picture in order to believe that there is a picture.

And perhaps this is where the three ideas come together.

Metziut tells me: Hashem is here.

Torah tells me: Hashem has something to say to me.

Hashgachah pratis tells me: What happens in my particular life is not outside the relationship.

Together they create a very different way of seeing the world.

And perhaps that is what bitachon really means. Not that I know that everything will turn out the way I want. Not that I can predict what Hashem is going to do. Rather, I can live with the conviction that I am not alone in the world.

Hashem has given us a world that can be used. Everything that comes toward us can somehow become part of our relationship with Him. We can take what happens to us and, instead of allowing it simply to happen to us, direct it toward Him.

And that may be one of the beautiful lessons of the sukkah.

We leave the solidity of our houses and sit under something temporary and vulnerable. We deliberately put ourselves into a place where we cannot pretend that we are completely in control.

And yet we are not abandoned. 

We are sitting under the schach.

Under the clouds of glory.

Even the animal self has a place there.

Maybe that is why Sukkot feels so different from the other Yamim Tovim. There is something wonderfully physical about it. We don’t just think about bitachon. We sit in it. We eat in it. We talk in it. We invite people into it. We sleep in it.

For seven days, we make our temporary shelter into our home.

And perhaps Yaakov’s two structures capture something we all need.

We need a bayit – a place of strength, stability and protection.

But we also need a sukkah – a place that reminds us that ultimately our security does not come from the walls we have built.

Maybe real security is not knowing exactly what is going to happen.

Maybe it is knowing Who is with us while it happens.

Anyway, these are some of the thoughts that have been wandering around my head as Sukkot gets closer.

And now I’d love to hear from you.

What does your sukkah look like this year? Is it the same one you’ve had for years, or did something change? Is it beautifully decorated, completely simple, or somewhere in between? Is there one thing in it that somehow makes it unmistakably your sukkah?

And when you sit there – especially in those quieter moments when everyone has finally stopped talking – what do you find yourself thinking about?

Wishing all of you a beautiful, peaceful and very happy Sukkot.

May we all have the privilege of sitting in our sukkot with the people we love, enjoying the extraordinary mitzvah of simply being there – and feeling, at least for a little while, that we are sitting under Hashem’s protection.

Much love,

Tziporah

And for Sukkot Simcha Sweetness……

 For your reading pleasure from myrtlerising:

What the Discontinuation of Sunkist Fruit Gems  Probably Implies I'm not a big candy freak, but I did ENJOY these as they were very FLAVORFUL  and easy to chew. Not so fond of crunchy shugary junk.

https://myrtlerising.weebly.com/blog/what-the-discontinuation-of-sunkist-fruit-gems-probably-implies>

הרב יעקב בן יצחק זצ"ל

 

Yaakov Ovinu zt"l

הרב יעקב בן יצחק זצ"ל

Tishrei 15 , 2256

Father's Name: Yitzchok Ovinu

(ca. 1655 – B.C.E. – ca. 1505 B.C.E.) Known as the "chosen one" of the "Avos," the "Founding Fathers" of the Jewish People, son of Yitzchak father of the Twelve Tribes.  He was the third Avos of the Jewish People.
Yaakov Avinu is described in the Torah as “a wholesome man who sat in the tents,” meaning that he learned Torah in the Academy of Shem and Ever. When he was 15, he bought the right of the first born from his twin brother Esav and later succeeded in receiving the blessing from his father Yitzchak. His brother wanted to kill him because of that and he fled to Charan where he married the daughters of his uncle Lavan – Rachel and Leah. He also had two concubines, Zilpah (Leah's handmaiden) and Bilhah (Rachel's handmaiden).
He was in Charan for 20 years and fathered the 12 Shevatim and a daughter, Dina. Due to a famine in the Land of Canaan, he and his family, numbering 70 souls, went down to Mitzrayim, where he passed away. He asked his son Yosef, the Viceroy of Egypt, to bury him in Meoras Hamachpeila in Chevron next to his wife Leah.

https://breslev.com/259087/

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New York Jewish Communities ……..

Being stubborn and unknowledgable about coming Home to Eretz Yisrael is alarming! Time to rethink what HKB”H wants from you!

הגעגוע בוער: ימים הנוראים וחג הסוכות במחיצת המנהיג מרן הגר"ח קניבסקי זצוק''ל - צפו בתיעוד נורא הוד

 

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12 Singers in One Sukkah! 🍋 | "Sukat Shalom" The Ultimate Sukkot & Simchat Beit HaShoeva Medley! 🌿🔥

 

Eliezer Meir Saidel: Star Wars – Sukkot

הַשִּׁעוּר מֻקְדָּשׁ לִרְפוּאַת שִׂמְּעוֹנָה בַּת שָׂרָה

כִּי יִצְפְּנֵנִי בְּסֻכֹּה בְּיוֹם רָעָה יַסְתִּרֵנִי בְּסֵתֶר אׇהֳלוֹ בְּצוּר יְרוֹמְמֵנִי. (תהילים כז, ה)

Last week I read a news item about the USA developing new space weaponry against Russia and China "The US has confirmed it deployed a space weapon in Earth's orbit, the first time it has acknowledged such offensive capabilities … China responded … warning against an 'arms race' in space." (BBC, 15 Sep 2026).   

This sparked many TV interviews with "experts" in space warfare, one of whom explained that there are three main "arenas" of space warfare. A. Space-to-Space, i.e. one satellite attacking another satellite orbiting the earth – either by firing missiles/lasers at it or using a cyber-attack, B. Space-to-Earth, i.e. satellites launching missiles/lasers from space at targets on earth, or C. Earth-to-Space, i.e. launching missiles/lasers or cyber-attacks from earth against satellites in orbit.  

If a country faces the threat of being hit by a missile or laser from outer space (or from anywhere else), they will certainly develop contingency plans to protect themselves, or at least their leaders and "top brass". They will build nuclear proof bunkers buried deep in the earth, like those in Pickaxe Mountain in Iran. They certainly will not protect themselves by building a…  Sukkah!

In our passuk above in Tehillim (from לְדָוִד ה' אוֹרִי, that Ashkenazim say from Rosh Chodesh Elul until Hoshana Raba, and some Sefardim say year-round) David HaMelech says that HKB"H is protecting him in His Sukkah. The Mefarshim on this passuk - שֶׁלֹּא תַּשִּׂיגֵנִי יָד אוֹיְבַי (רד"ק), and בְּיוֹם בּוֹא הָאוֹיֵב הִסְתִּירַנִי בְּסוּכָּתוֹ וְלֹא יָכְלוּ לִי (מצודות דוד).  

In other words, the place that David HaMelech feels most protected from his enemies, is in a Sukkah. Not in a cave 100m underground in the hills of Judea, or in a Jebusite fortress, מְצוּדַת צִיּוֹן (which subsequently became עִיר דָּוִד), with its thick walls and fortifications. David HaMelech prefers a flimsy, ramshackle, temporary structure, that the wind can blow away.

First of all, we need to understand which enemies David HaMelech is referring to – physical enemies (פְּלִשְׁתִּים, מוֹאֲבִים, שָׁאוּל, וכו'), or spiritual enemies.

From the pshat, it could be either. 

Two psukkim prior it says בִּקְרֹב עָלַי מְרֵעִים לֶאֱכֹל אֶת בְּשָׂרִי צָרַי וְאֹיְבַי לִי הֵמָּה כָשְׁלוּ וְנָפָלוּ. אִם תַּחֲנֶה עָלַי מַחֲנֶה לֹא יִירָא לִבִּי אִם תָּקוּם עָלַי מִלְחָמָה בְּזֹאת אֲנִי בוֹטֵחַ. This seems to be referring to physical enemies, in a war setting. 

However, the Ibn Ezra says that the "Sukkah" in question is actually referring to the Beit HaMikdash in Yerushalayim, בְּסֻכֹּה – הוּא יְרוּשָׁלַיִם, כְּמוֹ "וַיְהִי בְּשָׁלֵם סֻכֹּה" (תהילים עו, ג). In other words, it is a spiritual protection, in the place where HKB"H's Shechinah resides. In fact, the passuk preceding our passuk above is אַחַת שָׁאַלְתִּי מֵאֵת ה' אוֹתָהּ אֲבַקֵּשׁ שִׁבְתִּי בְּבֵית ה' כׇּל יְמֵי חַיַּי לַחֲזוֹת בְּנֹעַם ה' וּלְבַקֵּר בְּהֵיכָלוֹ. 

Rashi brings an interesting twist to the Beit HaMikdash association from Seder Olam, that it is specifically referring to the historical case of one of David's descendants יוֹאָש בֶּן אֲחַזְיָה (the father of יָרָבְעָם from last week's shiur on Yonah) who sought refuge in the "attic" of the Kodesh HaKodashim from queen of Yehudah עֲתַלְיָה, the daughter of אַחְאָב, who wanted to wipe out Malchut Yisrael.

The Midrash Tehillim (כז, ה) also brings that this is talking about spiritualprotection כִּי יִצְפְּנֵנִי בְּסֻכֹּה בַּיּוֹם רָעָה – בַּיּוֹם רָעָתָהּ שֶׁל בַּת שֶׁבַע, from David's sin with Bat Sheva.

In this shiur I would like to explore an interesting theme, how the various components, dimensions and layout of the Sukkah symbolize protection against both types of enemies, physical and spiritual.  

Let's start with a nice gematria, the word סֻכָּה in gematria is בִּיטָּחוֹן and also אֵפֹד(as in אֵפֹד מָגֵן).

We have two main components of the Sukkah, the walls, דְּפָנוֹת, and the סְכָךְ. The דְּפָנוֹת symbolize protection from the surrounding, lateral directions - against physical enemies, while the סְכָךְ on top, protects from spiritual enemies above.

A halachically acceptable Sukkah requires at least three - or more accurately - two and a tefach (plus a bit) walls. This leaves ample space open as a kind of an "escape hatch". If you are surrounded by four walls with only one entrance/exit, you are trapped. Rachmana litzlan, this is what happened on October 7^th in many of the secure rooms in the kibbutzim in עוֹטֵף עַזָּה where many met their deaths. 

The configuration of "two and a bit" דְּפָנוֹת resembles the letter ה, which has two openings, one below and one on the side. This is a kind of an "escape hatch" from spiritual enemies. If our main enemy – the yetzer hara - causes us to sin, we fall into the abyss down the lower opening. However, if we do teshuva, we have another opening to return, from the side so that we are sitting on top of the 3^rd "partial wall" which resembles a letter yud י (symbolizing Olam HaBah).

The third partial wall also symbolizes our effort in combating our yetzer hara. HKB"H does not require our effort to resemble a "full wall", we do our hishtadlut, however incomplete it may be and HKB"H is מַשְׁלִים, as if it constitutes a full wall. 

The walls of a Sukkah cannot be higher than 20 amot and lower than 10 tefachim. Why specifically those dimensions? 

The Gemara (סוכה ב, ע"א) says that higher than 20 amot - לָא שֶׁלָּטָא בָּהּ עֵינָא, it is so high, that it is already outside our "consciousness". We don't perceive that to be a "roof over our heads". On average, most domestic dwellings have a roof that is between 2.5 - 3m above the floor. 20 amot is about 10m. Imagine building a home with a roof 10m above the floor - it would be like living in Grand Central Station, it doesn't "psychologically" give the feeling of protection from above. Above 20m is also a kind of יוֹהֲרָה, an arrogance, as if we are "competing" with HKB"H, like in Migdal Bavel.

10 tefachim is about 80cm. That is approximately from the ground to our waist. The lower part of our bodies is considered טָמֵא while the upper part is considered קָדוֹשׁ. This is why the Kohen in the Mikdash wears an אַבְנֵט, a belt to separate the upper body from the lower body, and why many Chassidim wear a "gartel" in shul for the same reason. The part of our body which should primarily be in our consciousness is the קָדוֹשׁ part, above 10 tefachim. 

In other words, the acceptable halachic height of the Sukkah reflects the space around us which is "in our consciousness". A sense of protection only exists when we are conscious of it, when we feel protected.

The floor space in the Sukkah must be at least seven tefachim by seven tefachim - 56cmX56cm (שו"ע או"ח תרלד, א), according to the Gemara (סוכה ג, ע"א) so that a person's head may fit in, most of his body and his table - שֶׁתְּהֵא מַחְזֶקֶת רֹאשׁוֹ וְרוּבּוֹ וְשׁוּלְחָנוֹ. 

As we said above the (spiritually) important parts of the body are the upper half and the head. There has to be enough space in the Sukkah to accommodate those and … the person's table, which is likened to a Mizbeach -ר' יוֹחָנָן ור' אֶלְעָזָר דְּאָמְרִי תַּרְוַיְיהוּ בִּזְמַן שֶׁבֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ קַיָּים מִזְבֵּחַ מְכַפֵּר עַל אָדָם וְעַכְשָׁיו שֶׁאֵין בֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ קַיָּים שׁוּלְחָנוֹ שֶׁל אָדָם מְכַפֵּר עָלָיו (מנחות צז, ע"א. Entering a Sukkah and meriting HKB"H's protection requires a certain mindset – placing the emphasis on the part of us that is pure and קָדוֹשׁ and in being prepared to "sacrifice" fleeting worldly pleasures. The number seven is indicative of the seven days of Sukkot, the seven Ushpizin and the שִׁבְעָה רְקִיעִים. Therefore, the floorspace in the Sukkah is a multidimensional structure both down here and also one which stretches up through the seven layers of Heaven to the כִּסֵּא הַכָּבוֹד.

The Rema (שו"ע או"ח תרל, א) says that one should not make walls for the Sukkah that have a bad smell. When someone builds a house to protect them from the physical elements, or a weapons system to defend them from enemies – they should not have a "bad smell", they should be acquired honestly and devoid of any "hanky panky" or corruption. 

One of the walls of your Sukkah can be - your friend! (שו"ע או"ח תרל, א).  The Mechaber adds that on Yomtov (the first day) the only condition that your friend can act as one of the walls of your Sukkah, is if he doesn't know he is the "wall". During Chol HaMoed though, even if he knows that he is acting as a wall, it is OK. This teaches us that sometimes our best protection from physical harm can be – a friend, as Shlomo HaMelech said טוֹבִים הַשְּׁנַיִם מִן הָאֶחָד (קהלת ד, ט).

Let's move on to the סְכָךְ.

The halachic requirement for סְכָךְ is that it must be גִידוּלֵי קַרְקַע תלוּשִׁים שֶׁאֵינָם מְקַבְּלִים טֻמְאָה. It must be something living that grew from the ground, but is no longer attached to the ground and is not crafted into some form of vessel that can become טָמֵא. One would think that you could obtain better protection from above by covering the Sukkah with a hard substance like metal, which is also "natural" and found in the ground. How about a reinforced steel roof? That might be effective against physical enemies, however the protection from above is against - spiritual enemies, so reinforced steel is not going to work. 

One of the strongest weapons in the yetzer hara's arsenal is the concept of כֹּחִי וְעֹצֶם יָדִי עָשָׂה לִי אֶת הַחַיִל הַזֶּה (דברים ח, יז). A person might think "It is all me! I planted that vineyard from seeds, I pruned it, I irrigated it, I harvested the grapes, I created the cabernet sauvignon wine that won an international prize." 

On top of a Sukkah, HKB"H wants the covering to be from things that grow from the ground, but are not connected to the ground, instead, their direct connection is toHeaven. Nothing may separate the סְכָךְ from the sky (שו"ע או"ח תרכו). The סְכָךְ must be directly "connected" to HKB"H. Therefore, if someone builds a Sukkah on top of another Sukkah (like a double story Sukkah) – only the topmost Sukkah is Kosher.

The profound lesson of the סְכָךְ is that - things don't "grow" from the ground. We mistakenly perceive that things grow from the ground – i.e. that the ground is responsible for this wine, or that we are responsible. In truth everything "grows" from HKB"H above, not from us below. This is the true orientation of all creation, it ALL comes from Above, not the other way round. It must not be a wooden vessel we crafted, but the raw, unaltered wood, to minimize our involvement in it as much as possible. This understanding and acknowledgement of Who runs things - is one of the most powerful protections against the yetzer hara.

 Wow! What does that say for Donald Trump's "Star Wars" program? What does that say for our own Kipat Barzel and Chetz missile systems? The only true protection is recognizing Who is really providing the protection – HKB"H. This is not to say that we should not do our hishtadlut and build such weapons systems, but chas vechalila we should ever mistakenly believe it is they that are protecting us from our enemies. Only HKB"H protects us from our enemies, we make the effort (build the "partial third wall") and HKB"H is מַשְׁלִים. 

Have you ever wondered why so many ex-IDF generals are radical left-wingers, fighting with all their being to make peace with the Arabs, as the "only" solution to the Middle East conflict? It is because only they have the classified, insider knowledge and truly understand the fallibility of their weapons systems, how inherently flawed they truly are. They have no belief in HKB"H whatsoever, all they have is flawed weapons systems as their last line of defense. Their inescapable conclusion is – you can never win. The only resort is to make peace. Same with Trump. Why do you think he repeatedly prefers to negotiate with Iran instead of defeating them? Because he lacks faith in G-d and the righteousness of his cause. All he knows is what his generals and advisors tell him about their fallible military options. They are not lying to him – all human-made weapons are fallible. 

The סְכָךְ has to have more צֵל, shade than חַמָּה, sun. 

The word צֵל reflects HKB"H's protection. A few examples, בְּצֵל שַׁ-דַּ-י יִתְלוֹנָן (תהילים צא, א), ה' צִלְּךָ עַל יַד יְמִינֶךָ (תהילים קכא, ה), בְּצֵל כְּנָפֶיךָ תַּסְתִּירֵנִי (תהילים יז, ח), etc. We would much prefer being under HKB"H's protection than have him angry against us and casting us out, reflected by the word חֵמָה. Some examples. כִּי יָגֹרְתִּי מִפְּנֵי הָאַף וְהַחֵמָה אֲשֶׁר קָצַף ה' וכו' (דברים ט, יט), שְׁפֹךְ חֲמָתְךָ עַל הַגּוֹיִם (ירמיהו י, כה), ה' אַל בְּאַפְּךָ תוֹכִיחֵנִי, וּבַחֲמָתְךָ תְיַסְּרֵנִי (תהילים ו, ב), etc. 

However, סְכָךְ cannot be so dense that it hermetically seals from above – some sunlight must pass through and at night it must be possible to see the larger stars (שו"ע או"ח תרלא, ג). In order for HKB"H to protect us, we need to leave space open (in ourselves), as it says פִּתְחוּ לִי פֶּתַח אֶחָד שֶׁל תְּשׁוּבָה, כְּחוּדָה שֶׁל מַחַט, וַאֲנִי פּוֹתֵחַ לָכֶם פְּתָחִים שֶׁיִּהְיוּ עֲגָלוֹת וּקרֹנִיּוֹת נִכְנָסוֹת בּוֹ (שיר השירים רבה ה, ב).

Let us now talk about the Sukkah as a whole. 

The Mishna (סוכה ב, ג) brings four examples of "interesting places" to build a Sukkah – on the deck of a ship (סְפִינָה), on the back of a camel (גָּמָל), on top of a tree (אִילָן) and on top of a wagon (עֲגָלָה). The question is why the Mishna brought thosespecific four examples and not, say, on top of a donkey, on top of a pole, on top of a whale, or on top of a bush?

The answer לע"ד is because these four examples are referring to the four Avot. 

Avraham is the "captain" of the סְפִינָה. When Avraham died, all the kings of the world gave a hesped וְאָמַר רַב חָנָן בַּר רָבָא אָמַר רַב: אוֹתוֹ הַיּוֹם שֶׁנִּפְטַר אַבְרָהָם אָבִינוּ מִן הָעוֹלָם, עָמְדוּ כָּל גְּדוֹלֵי אוּמּוֹת הָעוֹלָם בְּשׁוּרָה וְאָמְרוּ: אוֹי לוֹ לָעוֹלָם שֶׁאָבַד מַנְהִיגוֹ, וְאוֹי לָהּ לַסְּפִינָה שֶׁאָבַד קַבְרִינְטָא (בבא בתרא צא, ע"א).

Yitzchak is the גָּמָל. Numerous psukkim associate the גָּמָל with Yitzchak.  בְּיוֹם הִגָּמֵל אֶת יִצְחָק (בראשית כא, ח), וַיֵּצֵא יִצְחָק לָשׂוּחַ בַּשָּׂדֶה לִפְנוֹת עָרֶב וַיִּשָּׂא עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא וְהִנֵּה גְמַלִּים בָּאִים (בראשית כד, סג), וַתִּשָּׂא רִבְקָה אֶת עֵינֶיהָ וַתֵּרֶא אֶת יִצְחָק וַתִּפֹּל מֵעַל הַגָּמָל (שם סד).

Yaakov is the אִילָן, the tree that stretches from the earth to the sky, like in the dream of the Sulam וַיַּחֲלֹם וְהִנֵּה סֻלָּם מֻצָּב אַרְצָה וְרֹאשׁוֹ מַגִּיעַ הַשָּׁמָיְמָה (בראשית כח, יב). Yaakov also used branches from different trees to multiply his sheep while he was staying with Lavan וַיִּקַּח לוֹ יַעֲקֹב מַקַּל לִבְנֶה לַח וְלוּז וְעַרְמוֹן (בראשית ל, לז).

Yosef (who is considered one of the Avot, which is why his sons Ephraim and Menashe are Shevatim) is the עֲגָלָה. After Yosef reconciled with his brothers, he sent gifts back with them for Yaakov on … wagons וַיַּרְא אֶת הָעֲגָלוֹת אֲשֶׁר שָׁלַח יוֹסֵף (בראשית מה, כז). The last Gemara Yosef was studying with Yaakov before he was sold into slavery in Egypt was עֶגְלָה עֲרוּפָה (בראשית רבה צד, ג).

There are two connections between a Sukkah and the Avot. 

The first is that Am Yisrael is protected because of זְכוּת אָבוֹת. We repeatedly play the Avot "trump card" (not the "Trump" card) when we ask HKB"H to forgive our sins and redeem us, not because we are worthy, but because He promised our Forefathers. 

The second reason is that the tents of the Avot resembled a Beit Mikdash. As the Ramban, in his introduction to sefer Shmot says - the candle that never went out, the blessing in the dough and the cloud that hovered perpetually over the tent, were later duplicated by the Menorah, Shulchan and Ohel Moed in the Mishkan. As we said above, another name for the Beit Mikdash is a Sukkah וַיְהִי בְּשָׁלֵם סֻכֹּה (תהילים עו, ג).

OK, based on the above hypothesis, the Sukkah is a kind of "safe room" where we merit HKB"H's protection from physical and spiritual enemies. However, does this Sukkah protect anyone who is in it? 

The answer is that it only protects those who are worthy, those who are sin-free. This is why Sukkot follows immediately after Yom Kippur. On Yom Kippur we are forgiven for all our sins so that we can sit in the Sukkah sin-free. 

Instead of studying electro-optics, electronics, steel reinforced bunker technology, those designing defense systems for Am Yisrael should be studying the Sukkah and learning its secrets. The Sukkah has more to teach us about real protection than Trump's "Star Wars" program. 

When we enter the Sukkah, it should be with the awe and reverence of entering a Beit Mikdash. Our behavior in the Sukkah should reflect this, how we speak, how we conduct ourselves, how we treat each other, how we spend our time.

We have learned the lessons of October 7. We have learned that it is no longer sufficient to rely on technology and כֹּחִי וְעֹצֶם יָדִי, safe rooms in our houses, missile defense systems, hi-tech barriers and surveillance systems between us and Gaza. We now understand that in order to be safe, we need to model our security around that of a Sukkah, addressing vital areas that technology does not, like the connection between unity and national resilience, like the connection between spiritual values/heritage and national resilience.

Sukkot is the time to reconnect with these fundamentals and "recharge our batteries" for the upcoming year and ensure that it will be a blessed year for us individually and for all of Am Yisrael and the world.

Chag Sameach 

Eliezer Meir Saidel

Machon Lechem Hapanim

www.machonlechemhapanim.org

Has the Time Come to Take the Lulav on Shabbat?

 By Rabbi Josh Wander

This year (and next) presents us with a fascinating halachic question that is about much more than the Four Species. When the first day of Sukkot falls on Shabbat, Jews throughout the world ordinarily leave their lulavim and etrogim untouched. But was that always the practice? More importantly, now that the Jewish people have returned in unprecedented numbers to Eretz Yisrael, has the time come to reconsider a practice that developed under radically different historical circumstances?

A fascinating article recently published in Makor Rishon by Arnon Segal discusses rabbis and scholars who intend to take the Four Species this Shabbat. Among them is Rabbi Yisrael Ariel, who argues that taking the lulav on the first day of Sukkot when it falls on Shabbat was the original practice in Eretz Yisrael. The Mishnah itself describes precisely such a reality. When the first day of Sukkot fell on Shabbat, Jews brought their lulavim to the Temple Mount before Shabbat and took them the following morning. When the resulting scramble became dangerous, Beit Din instituted that each person should instead take his lulav in his own home.[1][2]

The Gemara goes even further. It explicitly derives from the word “בַּיּוֹם” that the mitzvah applies “even on Shabbat,” and from “רִאשׁוֹן” that this first-day obligation applies even outside the Mikdash. In other words, there is nothing inherently contradictory about taking a lulav on Shabbat. On the contrary, the mitzvah of “וּלְקַחְתֶּם לָכֶם בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן”—“You shall take for yourselves on the first day”—was historically observed even when that first day was Shabbat. The question, therefore, is why that practice disappeared.[3]

The Gemara itself asks why Jews who knew with certainty when Rosh Chodesh had been established should not continue taking lulav when the first day fell on Shabbat. At one stage it answers that, indeed, in Eretz Yisrael they did. The subsequent discussion, however, leads into the post-Churban reality in which the practice was no longer maintained universally.[4] The Rambam codifies the later practice explicitly. He writes that after the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, Chazal prohibited taking lulav on the first day when it falls on Shabbat even for the Jews of Eretz Yisrael who knew the correct date, “כדי שיהיו הכל שוין בדבר זה”—“so that everyone should be equal in this matter.” He then adds that even after the fixed calendar became universal, the practice remained unchanged and lulav was not taken on Shabbat.[5]

But there is another dimension to the historical development. The Netziv, in Meromei Sadeh on Sukkah 44a, explains that after the Churban, “עיקר ישוב ישראל בחו״ל”—the principal Jewish settlement was in the Diaspora—and therefore the Jews living in Eretz Yisrael followed the practice of Klal Yisrael. Before the Churban, however, “עיקר ישראל בארץ ישראל”—the principal body of Israel was in Eretz Yisrael.[6] This raises an extraordinary question: what happens when history changes again?

That question has become increasingly relevant because the Jewish people have returned to Eretz Yisrael in numbers not seen for thousands of years. According to Israel’s Central Bureau of Statistics, on the eve of Rosh Hashanah 5787 Israel’s population stood at approximately 10.305 million, including approximately 7.828 million people classified as “Jews and Others.”[7] That category itself requires caution because “Jews and Others” is not synonymous with “halachically Jewish.”

At the same time, however, there is a fundamental problem with using the commonly quoted worldwide Jewish population to determine a halachic rov. The numbers generally cited in discussions of whether a majority of world Jewry lives in Israel are demographic figures, not a census of halachic Jews. The “core Jewish population” used by leading Jewish demographers relies substantially upon self-identification: people may be counted as Jewish because they identify as Jewish religiously, ethnically or culturally, even though that identification is not necessarily supported by halachic Jewish status. Some demographic methodologies are broader still, incorporating people on the basis of Jewish parentage, background or other forms of Jewish identification.[8]

That distinction is not academic. A person with a Jewish father and non-Jewish mother may identify completely as Jewish and consequently appear within some Jewish demographic calculations while not being Jewish according to halacha unless he or she underwent a valid conversion. Conversely, someone who is unquestionably Jewish according to halacha may not identify as Jewish and therefore may disappear from certain sociological counts. The demographers themselves acknowledge that their categories do not necessarily correspond to halachic definitions.

If we are asking a sociological question—how many people around the world identify with the Jewish people—those definitions are perfectly legitimate. But that is not the question before us. We are asking a halachic question: whether רוב ישראל is presently in Eretz Yisrael. For that purpose, counting people whom halacha does not recognize as Jews simply because they identify as Jewish can distort the very calculation upon which the halachic argument depends.

This could be decisive. We repeatedly hear that Israel is “approaching” the point at which the majority of world Jewry will live in Eretz Yisrael. But approaching according to which definition of a Jew? If the Diaspora figure is inflated for our particular halachic purpose by people counted as Jewish sociologically but not halachically, it is entirely possible that the relevant threshold has already been crossed. We simply do not currently possess sufficiently precise worldwide statistics to know.

And that uncertainty works both ways. If the available statistics cannot prove that the majority of halachic Jews are presently in Eretz Yisrael, neither can they prove that the majority are still in the Diaspora. That brings us directly to another consideration: ספק דאורייתא לחומרא. When confronted with a genuine doubt concerning a Torah obligation, the general halachic principle is that we act stringently.

Taking the lulav on the first day of Sukkot is a Torah obligation. The Torah explicitly commands “וּלְקַחְתֶּם לָכֶם בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן”—“You shall take for yourselves on the first day.” If, therefore, there is now a genuine safek as to whether the circumstances have returned under which the Torah obligation of first-day lulav applies in Eretz Yisrael even when that day falls on Shabbat, shouldn’t ספק דאורייתא לחומרא at least push us toward taking that possibility seriously rather than simply dismissing it?

This principle does not by itself settle the halacha. There are other considerations, including an explicit rabbinic enactment concerning lulav on Shabbat and the enormous weight of established practice. But those who respond simply, “You cannot prove that rov Yisrael is already in Eretz Yisrael,” have not necessarily answered the question; they may simply have identified the safek. When what potentially stands on the other side of that safek is the fulfillment of an explicit mitzvah from the Torah, that uncertainty deserves serious consideration.

And then comes Sukkot itself. Every year enormous numbers of Jews come from throughout the world to spend Sukkot in Eretz Yisrael. Jerusalem fills with Jews from America, Europe, Australia, South Africa and elsewhere. Walk through the streets of Yerushalayim during Chol HaMoed or stand at the Kotel during Birkat Kohanim and the phenomenon is impossible to miss. Normally these people continue to be counted statistically as “Diaspora Jews,” but I question whether that is the correct way to think about them for this discussion.

My definition of Aliyah is very simple: when a Jew steps off the airplane in Eretz Yisrael, he has made Aliyah. If he makes the unfortunate mistake of getting onto his return flight, he has then made yeridah. That may sound somewhat tongue-in-cheek, but there is a serious Torah concept behind it. A Jew’s actual physical presence in Eretz Yisrael can have halachic significance independent of his passport, citizenship or permanent address.

The famous position of the Chacham Tzvi provides a striking example. In Responsa Chacham Tzvi §167, Rav Tzvi Hirsch Ashkenazi addresses precisely the case of “בני חו״ל העולים לא״י דרך ארעי”—Diaspora Jews who come to Eretz Yisrael temporarily. He rules that they should conduct themselves on the festivals like residents of Eretz Yisrael. Indeed, he writes that this applies “כל זמן שהם בא״י אפילו דרך ארעי כיון שהמקום גורם”—as long as they are in Eretz Yisrael, even temporarily, “because the place itself determines the matter.”[9]

In other words, according to the Chacham Tzvi, a Diaspora Jew visiting Eretz Yisrael observes only one day of Yom Tov while he is here. This is not the universally accepted practical ruling; many poskim rule that a Diaspora resident visiting Israel continues to observe Yom Tov Sheni. But the Chacham Tzvi’s position establishes an important concept for our discussion: a Jew’s temporary physical presence in Eretz Yisrael is not necessarily halachically meaningless. According to his approach, one’s actual geographical location can have immediate consequences for the manner in which Yom Tov is observed.

That raises an intriguing question concerning רוב ישראל עליה. If a Jew from Brooklyn flies to Jerusalem for Sukkot, why should we count him, for purposes of asking where the Jewish people presently are, as though he were still sitting in Brooklyn? He isn’t; he is in Eretz Yisrael. I am not suggesting that the Chacham Tzvi thereby proves that temporary visitors must automatically be included in every mathematical calculation of rov Yisrael. That is a separate halachic question. But his position demonstrates something remarkable: temporary physical presence in Eretz Yisrael can itself determine halachic status.

That makes Sukkot particularly fascinating. We may already be extremely close to—or perhaps have crossed—the point at which the majority of the world’s halachically Jewish population is in Eretz Yisrael on an ordinary day. The demographic statistics available to us cannot definitively resolve the question because their categories do not correspond precisely to halachic Jewish status. Then, precisely for Sukkot, large numbers of Jews who ordinarily reside abroad physically enter Eretz Yisrael. Could those Jews push us decisively across the threshold of רוב ישראל עליה? It is a question worth asking.

There is something almost poetic about this possibility arising specifically on Sukkot. This is one of the Shalosh Regalim, the festivals upon which Jews historically left their homes and ascended to Jerusalem. Thousands of years later, airplanes descend into Ben-Gurion Airport filled with Jews coming to spend the regel in Eretz Yisrael. Hotels fill, the streets of Jerusalem fill, and the Kotel fills. Our demographic tables may continue to classify many of these people as members of the “Diaspora,” but during Sukkot they aren’t in the Diaspora. They are here.

This brings us back to the lulav. Professor Yoel Elitzur has devoted a detailed halachic study to the question of restoring the ancient Eretz-Yisrael practice of taking lulav on the first day of Sukkot when it falls on Shabbat.[10] There is also a particularly intriguing statement recorded in the teachings of Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv. Rabbi Eliyahu Weber, writing on this question, cites Shiurei Ha-Gri”sh on Sukkah 41b and reports Rav Elyashiv’s conclusion as follows: when the principal Jewish settlement is in Eretz Yisrael and רוב ישראל עליה—the majority of Israel is upon the Land—lulav is taken on Shabbat even before the coming of Mashiach.[11]

That statement must be presented carefully. The discussion appears in the context of Rav Elyashiv’s explanation of the position of the Rif, and it should not automatically be transformed into a practical ruling instructing Jews today to take lulav on Shabbat. Nevertheless, its significance is difficult to ignore. Here is a teaching attributed in a published source to one of the preeminent halachic authorities of the previous generation discussing a framework in which the return of rov Yisrael to Eretz Yisrael changes the equation, and explicitly placing that possibility before the coming of Mashiach.

Perhaps we therefore need to confront the possibility that a condition our predecessors discussed as belonging to the future is no longer entirely in the future. For nearly two thousand years, Jewish halachic life necessarily adapted itself to Galut. The great centers of Torah moved from Eretz Yisrael to Bavel, North Africa, Spain, France, Germany, Poland, Lithuania and eventually America. Practices shaped by those circumstances became deeply rooted within Jewish life. That was not a mistake; it was part of the extraordinary mechanism through which Torah and the Jewish people survived exile. But Galut was never intended to be permanent.

We prayed three times every day for the ingathering of the exiles. We prayed for Jerusalem to be rebuilt. We prayed for the restoration of Jewish national life in Eretz Yisrael. Those prayers were not metaphors; they were requests for history to change, and history changed. Millions of Jews have returned to Eretz Yisrael. Jerusalem is once again one of the greatest centers of Jewish life and Torah in the world. Jews arrive from throughout the Diaspora to celebrate the regalim here, and the demographic center of gravity of the Jewish people has shifted dramatically back toward the Land from which we were exiled.

Perhaps our greatest difficulty is simply recognizing what has happened. אין בעל הנס מכיר בנסו—the beneficiary of a miracle does not always recognize the miracle taking place around him. At some point we must therefore ask a much larger question than whether we should pick up a lulav on a particular Shabbat: when does the Judaism of a people living in Galut begin once again to become the Judaism of a people living in Eretz Yisrael?

This is not a license to discard established halacha or minhag whenever we choose. Major authorities oppose taking the lulav on Shabbat today, and the normative contemporary practice remains not to take it. That disagreement must be acknowledged honestly. But neither should we be afraid to ask whether the circumstances upon which earlier practices were based have fundamentally changed. There is a serious case that they have.

Indeed, this coming Shabbat, when the first day of Sukkot arrives, a good number of Jews in Yerushalayim who have studied this sugya and reached that conclusion will take their lulavim and etrogim privately in their homes, without carrying them through the public domain. Rav Ariel even published a book on the topic this year. They will not be attempting to create something new. Quite the opposite. They understand themselves to be restoring something very old: a practice explicitly described by Chazal and once observed by Jews in Eretz Yisrael when the first day of Sukkot fell on Shabbat.

For generations our ancestors held their lulavim while facing toward Jerusalem and praying for the return to Zion. We have returned. Perhaps it is time for our halachic consciousness to begin recognizing that reality as well. And perhaps this Shabbat, quietly inside Jewish homes throughout Yerushalayim and Eretz Yisrael, some Jews holding the lulav and etrog in their hands will recognize something that generations of our ancestors could only dream of: we are home.

Halachic Disclaimer: This article is intended solely as a discussion of the sugya and the sources surrounding the question of taking lulav on Shabbat in Eretz Yisrael. It is not a psak halacha and should not be understood as practical halachic guidance. The issues discussed here are subject to significant disagreement among major halachic authorities. Anyone with a practical question regarding how to conduct themselves should consult their local Orthodox rabbi or personal halachic authority.

Sources

[1] Arnon Segal, “לולב בשבת,” Makor Rishon, September 2026. [2] Mishnah Sukkah 4:2–4; Bavli Sukkah 42b. The Mishnah records both bringing the lulavim to the Temple Mount and the later enactment that each person take his lulav at home. [3] Bavli Sukkah 43a: “ביום — ואפילו בשבת; ראשון — אפילו בגבולין.” [4] Bavli Sukkah 43a–44a. The Gemara asks regarding the inhabitants of Eretz Yisrael who knew the calendar, “אינהו דידעי בקיבועא דירחא לידחו,” and initially answers, “אין הכי נמי.”

[5] Rambam, Hilchot Shofar, Sukkah VeLulav 7:13–18, particularly 7:16–18. [6] Netziv, Meromei Sadeh, Sukkah 44a: after the Churban, “דהוויין עיקר ישוב ישראל בחו״ל מיגררן יושבי ארץ ישראל אחר מנהג כלל ישראל… מה שאין כן לפני חורבן בית המקדש היה עיקר ישראל בארץ ישראל.” [7] Israel Central Bureau of Statistics, Israel in Figures—Rosh Hashana: Selected Annual Data 2026, September 9, 2026. [8] Sergio DellaPergola, World Jewish Population 2024, American Jewish Year Book 2024. The demographic literature distinguishes among the “core Jewish population,” population with Jewish parents, enlarged Jewish population and Law of Return population; these demographic categories do not necessarily correspond to halachic Jewish status.

[9] Responsa Chacham Tzvi §167: “כל זמן שהם בא״י אפי׳ דרך ארעי כיון שהמקום גורם.” [10] Rabbi Prof. Yoel Elitzur, “נטילת לולב בשבת בזמן הזה,” Techumin 29, pp. 418ff., together with the published responses to the article. [11] Rabbi Eliyahu Weber, “בעניין מצוות שופר ולולב כשזמנן בשבת,” Yarchon HaOtzar, citing Shiurei Ha-Gri”sh, Sukkah 41b: “כאשר עיקר היישוב הוא בארץ ישראל, אם רוב ישראל עליה נוטלין לולב בשבת גם לפני ביאת המשיח.”The citation appears in the context of Rav Elyashiv’s analysis of the Rif; an independently accessible scan of the cited page in Shiurei Ha-Gri”sh has not been located.