September 24, 2007
12 Tishri 5768

D’var Torah
By: Rachel Schwartz

Initially, when I sat down to write this D’var Torah having recently been married, I thought it was an opportune time to talk about Rosh Hashanah and new beginnings. However, when I realized that Sukkot was approaching, and learned that it was considered to be one of the happiest holidays on the Jewish calendar, I couldn’t pass up the chance to find out more about it.

According to tradition, the judgment that begins on Rosh Hashanah actually closes at the end of Sukkot. Sukkot is a harvest festival that commemorates the 40 year period during which the people of Israel wandered the desert and lived in temporary shelters.

In ancient times, to celebrate that the harvest was in, the Jewish people would hold a special water drawing ceremony called Simchat Beit Ha Sho Evah. During this ritual, both rich and poor girls alike, would borrow beautiful white dresses from each other, sing and dance in the fields, and wait for the young men to come and choose their brides to start a new household.

As I start my new life as a married woman, I cannot help but realize how symbolic building a sukkah is to building a new home. A sukkah is the perfect place to demonstrate hospitality and an appreciation for one another. During Sukkot, it is customary to invite family and friends over to enjoy each others company in the sukkah. Interestingly enough, it has been said that while the Jews were journeying to Israel, each hut was built facing away from each other so each family could still maintain its privacy.

As I create a home with my new husband, we struggle to set boundaries with family and friends, in an effort to also hold onto our own privacy. Every day in our new home, we try and acknowledge how fortunate we are, as life is short, and the people we love are often taken for granted. The sukkah itself, because it is temporary and flimsy, also represents the transience and frailty of life. The sukkah is also like a chuppah, representing a Jewish home and reminding us of the marriage between G-d and the Jewish people.

Until I met my husband, I too, felt like a wanderer. After leaving my parents home, I journeyed to Madison, Chicago, Northbrook, and then back to Buffalo Grove. I was always searching for a place of peace and permanence that I could call my home. Finally, I’m here.

With that being said, I would like each of us to write our own wishes for the new year on these leaves, so that we can hang them in our JCC sukkah, creating a special place of rest and peace here for our children and our community.