Why Sukkoth Still Matters Today
Sukkoth, also known as the Feast of Tabernacles, is an ancient holiday. Back then it was an agricultural festival. Does it still have resonance – even significance – in the modern post-industrial (and certainly post-agricultural) world? Very much so.
A sukkah is basically a temporary hut. Paradoxically, therein lies its contemporary message. To be sure, among other things Sukkoth is about remembering very early Jewish history. First, the forty-year trek of the Israelites after leaving Egypt, of necessity living in temporary abodes as they sojourned through the desert on the way to the Promised Land.
Second, today most of us live in a world of personal plenty, certainly regarding food and shelter. That was not necessarily the case in the ancient world. From the start, Sukkoth was tied to farming and the time for reaping – the grand finale of the agricultural year in the Land of Israel. Farmers would gather their crops, sigh with relief for the good harvest, and thank the Lord and the land for its bounty. That’s why Sukkoth always falls at the end of the summer: the holiday occurred right after the big harvest.
Third, Sukkoth was a time to share. After the harvest, farmers were encouraged to open their hearts (and storerooms) to those in need – the poor, orphans, widows, and strangers. It was a built-in system for spreading largesse and making sure no one was left out of the celebration (the Book of Ruth, although being read during Shavuot – another agriculturally-based holiday – would fit just as well into the Sukkoth prayer service). In any case, unlike our locked apartment or house front door, the sukkah (without any “door”) is open to all.
Historical memory and practice notwithstanding, the holiday contains fundamental, social and economic meaning that still resonates today. First, Sukkoth constituted an early form of social safety net whereby generosity and caring for one’s neighbors ensured subsistence for even the weakest among society. The Hebrew Bible incorporates proto-capitalism (private property) with social welfare (ensuring the survival of all) – a Jewish ethic that continues in the modern era through private philanthropy and large-scale voluntarism (especially in Israel), side by side with a capitalist economic system.
One might think, therefore, that Sukkoth holds meaning especially for the poor and downtrodden. Not so, for by having to move into a not-altogether-cozy sukkah, even the well-to-do are disconnected from their regular comfort zone. Jews, no matter how wealthy, important, or comfortable, are required to step out of their home and spend time (for the truly religious, even sleeping there!) in a temporary, no-frills hut.
Why? These shelters are supposed to be fragile and relatively open to the sky – a not-so-subtle reminder that whatever our place within the social hierarchy, everyone is vulnerable and dependent on forces bigger than us. The vicissitudes of life don’t necessarily skip over the rich and powerful. For seven days (eight outside Israel), socio-economic barriers drop; everyone shares the same experience, humbly and simply. Indeed, in order to emphasize such vagaries of life – like a sudden, heavy downpour – the sukkah’s “ceiling” has to be porous (layered only with fronds and other leaves), forcing its inhabitants back into their cozy home where they can contemplate and compare the two disparate modes of living space.
Moreover, beyond the economic (in)equality message, there also exists a profound social message as well, related to the distinctive Sukkoth ritual regarding the “Four Species”: etrog (citron), lulav (palm), hadas (myrtle), and aravah (willow). Each plant represents a different type of person, with their own strength and character. By bringing them all together in prayer (the last three form one tripartite object), Sukkoth sends the message that every community member counts; all have something to offer. Only by including the full panoply of society’s individuals can it flourish – a celebration of unity through diversity.
Which leads to the macro-level as well. Traditionally back then, Jews from all over Israel would travel to Jerusalem for a huge festival, bringing offerings and sharing in public celebrations. This tradition has been renewed in the modern Jewish State with massive prayer services at the Western Wall, in a sea of waving lulavim.
In short, Sukkoth is a holiday of contrasts. On the one hand, it reflects the stability and consistency of the seasons and their bounty, mirrored in traditional holiday practices going back thousands of years. On the other hand, the sukkah itself reminds us how fragile our seeming stability really is. Not only does it force us to think about other people who don’t have safe homes (e.g., refugees, homeless, poor families facing eviction), but it also holds up a mirror to us: “there but for the grace of God go I…”.
One could add that all this presents a refreshing challenge to modern consumer culture. Spending a week in a simple shelter, away from everyday comforts, nudges us to rethink what really matters. Gratitude, humility, and community are more than simply words – they’re lived experiences. Economics and society merge.
The bottom line: the holiday of Sukkoth is much more than simply a religious tradition.
Its roots in agriculture, its lessons about generosity and equality, plus its ability to bring different people together, have all shaped Jewish communities for thousands of years. It continues to offer a roadmap today for living ethically, connectedly, with a sense of responsibility to others. In a world that often feels divided and overly hurried, Sukkoth invites us to slow down, look around and within, and remember that real wealth is derived from community, kindness, and the bonds we create and nourish together.
