blogs/rabbi-huberman

When I was a child and teenager, one sentence routinely got me out of trouble.

When faced with something I did or didn’t do, I would—as many of you—begin my defense with these four words:

“I swear to God.”

That short sentence was powerful. Whether it was voiced to a parent or teacher, all I had to do was swear to God—the highest power—and I was often given the benefit of the doubt.

I don’t think I was alone. In fact, I believe that the roots of the third commandment—”Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord, your God in vain”—is based on the idea that once you use God as a character witness there is little room for rebuttal.

The question then remains, if you are God—the highest power—what is the greatest superlative you can draw upon to emphasize a teaching or a law?

Last week’s Torah reading provides the answer.

In his final day on earth, Moses delivers his last words to the Israelites. He refers to God’s top two witnesses: “Heaven and Earth.” 

Are there two more important reference points?

And somewhere between these two bookends, we transition from Yom Kippur to the festival of Sukkot.

During the High Holidays, our thoughts turn to life’s unknowns, as we reflect upon the fact that our time on earth is limited.

Are we meeting our potential? Are there things we need to let go of? Where are we headed?

Or, as the Greek philosopher, Epictetus, bluntly stated 2,000 years ago, “You are a little soul carrying around a corpse.”

But this week, Jewish practice turns inside out.

The holiday of Sukkot encourages us to look around, inspiring us to consider the earthly question: “What so we really need to survive?

Most of us live in comfortable homes with heat, air conditioning, a multitude of bedrooms and bathrooms, and two-car garages. But in truth, do we really need all of that?

Jewish theology—in its continuous desire to achieve equilibrium—poses a question different from the one we considered during the High Holidays:

“Are we truly appreciative of what we have?”

The Torah turns to the experience of the Jewish people as they wandered 40 years in the desert.

The Israelites ate, congregated, slept and interacted in small huts known as Sukkahs.

There was no Internet, television or other distractions—only a bit of food, some basic shelter, the sand, the stars, family, and friends.

Our Sages posit that perhaps that is why the Torah was given in the wilderness—to enable us to appreciate life’s basics.

And everything else is commentary. 

Many years ago, while traveling in Israel from Jerusalem to Masada, our group paused at an oasis called Abraham’s Tent. There—as we perched over the desert valley near Jericho—we sipped coffee, ate figs and dates, and baked pita.

One of our travelers asked: “How could people live like this?”

To which “Abraham”—played by a local actor—replied, “How can you live in New York with the crime, the stress and the traffic jams?”

Our rabbis teach that Sukkot is very much about appreciating life’s physicality. Within these basic and humble huts, we experience the gentle autumn rain. The air is fresh. We welcome family and friends to share a bit of food, drink, and company.

And in so doing, under God’s Sukkot Shalom—God’s shelter of peace—we are provided with the opportunity to experience the physical world around us.

Heaven reminds us that life is a mystery.  

Where did we come from and where are we going? Those will be questions to be answered as we enter eternity. 

The Torah reminds us, “Lo Bashamayim Hee.” The Torah is not found in heaven, it is to be experienced on earth.

What an amazing religion. Only days after a period of inner reflection, we are drawn to appreciate what surrounds us.

That balance is so important and so basic to achieving inner stability. God—through the prophet, Moses—mentions it three times on the final Shabbat Torah reading of the year.

We may not fully understand life’s full context, but we can, according to the Torah, strive to achieve a sense of balance between what is unknown to us and what we can comprehend.

“I call today heaven and earth.” The message from God delivered by Moses with his final breath.

And so, on Sukkot, we experience within these small simple huts that stability between heaven and earth.

And it comes from God, who inspires us to consider what is above our heads and below our feet: They represent the knowns and unknowns, the highs and lows of our lives.

For as heaven is our witness—the earth is our life.

As we approach the end of the High Holidays, we are reminded on Sukkot of how glorious yet vulnerable we truly are.

Chag Sameach—Happy Sukkot. Shabbat shalom.Rabbi Irwin Huberman