Wonder of Wonders, Miracle of Miracles

Hag HaSukkot, the festival of Sukkot, is popularly known for two mitzvot: the sukkah and the lulav and etrog. This year, because the first day of Sukkot falls on Shabbat, the sukkah takes our exclusive attention:

In sukkot (huts) you shall dwell seven days. All natives in Israel shall dwell in sukkot, so that your generations will know that I made the children of Israel dwell in sukkot when I brought them out of the land of Egypt. I am the Lord your God. (Leviticus 23:42-43)

There is a well-known dispute among the sages of the Mishnaic period over the nature of the sukkot in which the children of Israel dwelt during their trek through the desert:

“So that your generations will know that I made the children of Israel dwell in sukkot.” Rabbi Eliezer says: They were real huts; Rabbi Akiva says: They were the clouds of glory. (Sifra Emor 17:11; see also Sukkah 11b)

Obviously, this dispute points to an ideological chasm between these two sages regarding both the miraculous and the providential. For Rabbi Eliezer, the miracle is found in the very redemption from Egypt itself; there is no need for additional miracles or “frills.” For Rabbi Akiva, by contrast, the miraculous redemption included God’s constant accompaniment of Israel, with the ongoing miracles that accompanied them throughout their journey.

The latter opinion led to some staggeringly imaginative descriptions of the services provided by the “clouds of glory,” including one midrash that suggests that the Israelites received something approaching “full valet service”:

Rabbi Eliezer asked Rabbi Shimon and said to him: “When the Israelites left Egypt, did they take with them linen garments?” He said to him: “No.” “And from where did they get clothing to wear for forty years?” He said to him: “From what the ministering angels clothed them, as it says: ‘I clothed you with embroidered work’ (Ezekiel 16:10).” …
He said to him, “But they did not wear out. And did not children grow?” Rabbi Shimon said: “Go out and learn from the snail; all the while he grows, his shell grows as well.”
“And do not their clothing require laundering?” He said to him: “The cloud laundered them and pressed them.”

And he said to him: “And did they not smell bad from sweat since they did not change their clothes?” He said to him: “The well would bring up all kinds of fragrant herbs…”

When the Israelites saw how God was treating them with care and luxury in the wilderness, they began to praise and say, “He feeds us good food, and we lack nothing.” (Adapted from Midrash Tehillim 23:4, Buber ed., pp. 199–200)

The debate between these two sages did not disappear. In fact, it reemerged as powerfully as ever in a debate between a very famous grandfather and his sagacious grandson. Rashi, whose commentary is renowned for representing the normative view of the tradition, took up the opinion of Rabbi Akiva:

“For in sukkot”—under the clouds of glory.

Rashi’s grandson, Rabbi Shmuel ben Meir (Rashbam), who was known for his pursuit of peshat, the plain sense of the text, took up the cudgels on behalf of Rabbi Eliezer’s position:

“The plain meaning of the verse follows the opinion expressed in Tractate Sukkah that the word סוכה (“booth”) here should be understood literally. This is the idea behind the text (Deuteronomy 16:13): ‘You shall hold the Feast of Booths … after the ingathering from your threshing floor and your vat,’ so that you will remember ‘that I made the children of Israel live in sukkot’ for forty years in the wilderness, without any settlements and without owning any land. As a result of [contemplating] this, you will give thanks to the One who allows you to own your land and your houses which are filled with all good things. And do not ‘say to yourselves, “My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me.”’”

Rashi and Rashbam clearly disagree over more than simply their reading of the biblical text. Their interpretations suggest that they may also disagree over what constitutes divine providence.

For Rashi, God’s miraculous redemption, with its signs and wonders and the awe they inspire, provides the fundamental reason for celebrating Sukkot. For Rashbam, by contrast, God’s providence is revealed not only in extraordinary miracles but in the very ordinary blessings of life: having a land, a home, food, security, and the ability to enjoy the fruits of our labor. The sukkah reminds us that the security we enjoy in our homes and the abundance we possess are gifts that can never be taken entirely for granted. They should constantly remind us of their ultimate source and give us reason to be thankful.

Rashi implores us to open our eyes to the signs and wonders that lie beyond the ordinary—to recognize God’s presence in what transcends nature. Rashbam cautions us not to lose sight of the extraordinary within the ordinary—to recognize that the very lives we live are, in and of themselves, gifts not to be taken for granted.

One looks upward, toward the miraculous; the other looks around us, toward the blessings of everyday life. But both lead us to the same place: gratitude.

And perhaps that is what Sukkot is all about.