Sukkot, Shabbat
Oct. 2nd, 2004 10:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cellioTurnout for services Wednesday night was small, as I expected. I got to see a friend who's currently off in rabbinic school in Philly, which was a pleasant surprise. We got to admire the new congregational sukkah. (It's mostly the same sukkah, but set up in a different place that permits better traffic flow.) It's nicely decorated this year; for next year I need to find out where to get the dried cornstalks they used for s'chach (roofing). They're ornamental, too, and I'd like to use some.
Thursday morning I read part of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes). I still haven't figured out if the message of that book is "all is vanity -- wallow in it" or "all is vanity, but you may as well enjoy it". I should read it on my own; during readings in shul I tend to listen rather than reading along in the book, which I find more comfortable, but sometimes reading it changes the way I absorb it.
(Aside: my understanding is that the traditional liturgy calls for Kohelet to be read on the Shabbat during Sukkot, not on Sukkot day. Ditto Shir haShirim (Song of Songs) for Pesach -- we read on Yom Tov but I've seen it on the Shabbat during the festival. I don't know the origin of, or reasoning for, this difference.)
The synagogue didn't have anything formal for lunch (just cookies and wine, and a chance for everyone to take lulav and etrog (see below)), but a few of us had gotten together in a bag-lunch conspiracy, so we had a nice lunch in the congregational sukkah. I'm hoping for something a little more organized next year; this was spread by word of mouth. It seems a shame to have a nice congregational sukkah and never have any meals in it, after all. But I'm in luck -- a newer member of the worship committee is itching to make Sukkot a bigger deal in our congregation, so I can put her in charge of the project. :-)
Sukkot might be the most visibly-weird holiday we have. In addition to the questionable building projects that spring up all over the neighborhood, there's the lulav and etrog. The Torah commands us to "rejoice" with four species -- interpreted by the rabbis as palm, myrtle, willow, and etrog. (An etrog is a citron. Don't you love definitions that don't shed any new light? :-) ) This is implemented by gathering them up in a bundle and waving them in all directions (after saying the appropriate blessing). We're supposed to do this every day in the sukkah, and there's a place during morning services where you do it too, so in addition to seeing all the sukkot, in the mornings you'll also see people walking down the street carrying greenery. Well, those who own their own, anyway; it's expensive to import etrogim from Israel (and they don't grow well here), so many of us make do with the ones the congregation buys, even if that means we don't do it every day.
I heard an interesting idea at torah study Saturday morning. Someone proposed that Yitro (Jethro), Moshe's father-in-law, is really our model for conversion. (Normally we talk about Ruth, or sometimes Avraham.) Why Yitro? He was smart, he became part of the community, and he studied the question for a long time before committing. I'm not sure I buy it (in particular, I'm not convinced Yitro did formally join the Jewish people), but it's an interesting theory.
There was no bar mitzvah this week, so my rabbi could stay for our entire morning service. Normally this would mean he'd read torah, except that I didn't know about that before I learned the portion, so I got to read. (It turns out that the portion for the Shabbat in the middle of Sukkot is really short; next year I'll remember to give it to a new reader.) I got a bit of a scare Friday night (we also read torah on Friday nights), when the printed program gave a portion other than what I had learned. Fortunately, it was a typo. (No, not Leviticus! Exodus!) My reading went fine; I hesitated in one place (memory failure for one vowel), but that's why we have someone following in a chumash to correct errors. My rabbi did it for me this time.
The torah reader traditionally gives a short drash. I started by talking about the timing of the torah portion -- during Sukkot we read the part just after the sin of the golden calf, where Moshe is back on Mount Sinai, God's considering wiping the people out and starting over, and Moshe pleads for forgiveness and tells God he has to be with the people. When this is all over, the divine presence will rest on the people; it is this presence (the "clouds of glory") that we commemorate with the festival of Sukkot. But Sukkot isn't just about a historical event or a harvest festival; I think it's our invitation ti, in turn, invite God into a more personal relationship. We read this right after Yom Kippur, when we've dealt with the transcendant judging God; now it's time to think about a more personal connection. If the sukkah is meant to represent the divine presence from the wilderness, doesn't it follow that we're that close too when we dwell in our sukkot? (Ok, rarely for me, it played better verbally than in writing.)
My rabbi conducted the rest of the service; I just read torah and gave the drash. That's fine; he reads haftarah better than I do by far. (We read in English, but I'm just not very good at reading English for some reason. It just doesn't roll nicely off the tongue the way Hebrew does.)
Ranty-guy update: not present.
So far we've been able to have all our at-home meals in the sukkah. (It looked like we might get lunchtime rain today, but we didn't.) Tomorrow we're visiting friends fron the congregation for lunch, and then we're having guests for dinner. That'll be nice, since we didn't have any guests for Yom Tov or Shabbat. Once again I have failed to invite my highly-allergic-to-cats rabbi over for a meal in the sukkah, though there might still be time. (That is, there are still days before the end of the festival, but he tends to be pretty busy. Next year I need to remember to invite him, oh, before Rosh Hashana.)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-03 06:46 am (UTC)I'm not sure what the message of the book is. On the one hand, Kohelet claims to be wise, but on the other, not everything he says is, in fact, wise. On the other hand, a lot of Kohelet sounds very modern: he complains that bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people, and that life isn't fair. He grapples with a solution, but I don't think that hedonism is really what we're supposed to get out of it, nor do I think that it's what he really thinks is the answer. I was also wondering this year, why do we read it on Sukkot?
(Aside: my understanding is that the traditional liturgy calls for Kohelet to be read on the Shabbat during Sukkot, not on Sukkot day. Ditto Shir haShirim (Song of Songs) for Pesach -- we read on Yom Tov but I've seen it on the Shabbat during the festival. I don't know the origin of, or reasoning for, this difference.)
Yeah, intermediat shabbat. As far as why, I suspect it's because, well, in traditional liturgy there's already a lot going on during Sukkot or Pesach, and if you read all of Kohelet, it's going to take another chunk of time. (I think in my minyan it took about 30-45 minutes -- and we read half in English. I'm not positive about the time, though...)
and etrog. (An etrog is a citron. Don't you love definitions that don't shed any new light? :-) )
Ah, yes. It's like explaining that there's a disagreement as to whether one wears ones tefillin (phylacteries) during sukkot (feast of tabernacles). I explain an etrog as a citrus fruit, like a lemon but even more sour.
Well, those who own their own, anyway; it's expensive to import etrogim from Israel (and they don't grow well here)
When I was buying my lulav and etrog, there were "Morrocan" etrogim which they were asking less for. I think part of it is economics; etrogim are pretty fragile. But I was able to get an Israeli etrog and lulav for $20 in New York. (OK, I was at Canal and Essex in the Lower East Side of NYC on Wednesday after noon (and less than 6 hours before the holiday started), and my friend Reb Al bargained them down from $25 a piece pointing out that we were buying three sets (I got one for Joy as well).) So they're not fundamentally really expensive...
Re: Yittro: I agree, it's not clear that he really becomes Jewish -- after all, he doesn't stay around to act as a guide, but rather goes back to his home.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-03 07:15 pm (UTC)At one point he says something to the effect of "no one remembers who says wise words anyway", at which point I turned to the person sitting next to me and said "but centuries later, we know who this is attributed to".
I was also wondering this year, why do we read it on Sukkot?
Flip answer: it was the book that was left over. Think about it: there are five megilot, three of them read at festivals (the other two are Purim and Tisha b'Av). Shir haShirim kind of goes with Pesach, being spring-y and all that. Ruth, the story of someone who chooses to join the Jewish people, goes with the revelation at Sinai. Kohelet had to go somewhere.
Less flippantly, though, perhaps we are supposed to associate the fragility of life with the fragility of the sukkah. With both life and the sukkah, we need God's help to get through it relatively unscathed. During Sukkot we really expose ourselves to the elements physically; why not expose ourselves spiritually at the same time? The message of Kohelet -- that it's all temporary and that we shouldn't get wrapped up in our works -- seems to fit.
trogim which they were asking less for. I think part of it is economics; etrogim are pretty fragile. But I was able to get an Israeli etrog and lulav for $20 in New York.
But as you said, the circumstances were special. They go for at least twice that here, by the way.