As we approach Hoshana Rabbah and Shemini Atzeret, days that are filled with closeness to Hashem, I would like to suggest a common thread that runs from the first day of Sukkos to the last. The Torah commands:
"You shall dwell in sukkos for seven days... so that your generations will know that I caused the Children of Israel to dwell in sukkos when I took them out of the land of Egypt." (Vayikra 23:42–43)
According to Rabbi Eliezer (Sukkah 11b), the sukkos in which Hashem caused us to dwell were the ananei haKavod, the clouds of glory that surrounded our ancestors throughout their journey in the wilderness. Chazal describe the clouds of glory as nothing less than a five-star hotel. They cooled the people by day and warmed them by night. Their clothing was cleaned and pressed. Their garments did not wear out and their feet did not swell (Devarim 8:4). As Moshe tells the people at the end of their journey, "These forty years Hashem your God has been with you; you lacked nothing" (Devarim 2:7). That is no small thing. Forty years of travel would ordinarily leave its mark on a person.
In Parshas Lech Lecha, Avraham says to Sarai as they approach Egypt, "Behold, now I know that you are a woman of beautiful appearance" (Bereishis 12:11). Had he not known this before? Rashi explains that the hardship of travel usually takes its toll on a person's appearance. Sarai, even after the long and difficult journey, had not lost her beauty. Travel is hard, and yet Hashem made our travel through the wilderness remarkably comfortable. He went to the extreme for us.
What do we do in response? We dwell in the sukkah, and Chazal teach that we are to live there k'ein taduru, the way a person lives in his home. Just as our homes have fine furniture, we should bring fine furniture into the sukkah. Especially in Eretz Yisrael, where it rarely rains during Sukkos, we bring couches and decorations and all kinds of beautiful touches. Hashem went to the extreme for us, and we go to the extreme for Him.
The Gemara (Sukkah 9a) teaches: just as the Name of Heaven rests upon the chagigah offering, so too the Name of Heaven rests upon the sukkah. The sukkah in its totality carries kedushah; not only the schach and the walls, but even the noi sukkah (the decorations) are set apart for the seven days of the chag.
The Meshech Chochmah points out a striking difference between the sukkah and the arba minim. The sukkah carries an intrinsic kedushah, but the arba minim do not; they are simply set aside for their mitzvah, muktzeh l'mitzvatan, which means that they may not be used for anything else on the day they are used for the mitzvah. (If a person designated a separate esrog for each day of the chag, the esrog he used today is forbidden to be used for anything else today. Once its day has passed and he has another esrog for the next day, he may slice yesterday's esrog into his tea.)
Why should the sukkah hold a deeper and more lasting kedushah than the arba minim? The Meshech Chochmah explains that kedushah flows from human effort. Selecting the arba minim requires care, but building a sukkah demands far more toil. Because we invest more of ourselves in the sukkah, its kedushah is greater and more enduring.
Once again we see the same pattern which we highlighted above regarding the clouds of glory and decorating the sukkah - Hashem went out of His way for Bnai Yisrael, and we go out of our way for Hashem to put in the effort necessary to build a sukkah. Ani l'dodi v'dodi li.
The Gemara (Ta'anis 9a) teaches that our ancestors received three gifts in the wilderness in the merit of three great siblings: in the merit of Miriam we received the be'er (the well), in the merit of Moshe we received the mann, and in the merit of Aharon we received the ananei haKavod. Why do we have a Yom Tov commemorating the Clouds of Glory, but no Yom Tov for the well or the mann?
The Maharam ben Chaviv offers a beautiful insight in answering this question. The well and the mann continued without interruption throughout the lifetimes of the tzaddikim in whose merit they came; we enjoyed the well until Miriam's passing, and we ate the mann not only until Moshe's passing, but until we crossed the Jordan. The clouds of glory, however, did not continue uninterrupted; there was a period when we lost them.
The Vilna Gaon explains that this is precisely why Sukkos falls on the fifteenth of Tishrei. After the sin of the Golden Calf, the clouds of glory departed. Moshe descended with the second luchot on Yom Kippur, bearing the message of forgiveness. The next day he relayed the command to build the Mishkan, the people brought their donations, on the fifteenth of Tishrei the work began, and the clouds of glory returned. The Gra connects this to the verse in Parashat Ki Tisa, "Behold, I make a covenant; before all your people I will do wonders such as have not been created in all the earth" (Shemos 34:10). What were these unprecedented wonders? The clouds of glory. Hadn’t the Clouds had already accompanied us out of Egypt and through the splitting of the sea? How could they be called a wonder never seen before? The answer is that before the sin, the full glory of the clouds was perceived only by the prophets. When the people sinned, the clouds departed. Now, after their teshuvah, after they began to build the Mishkan, after Hashem declared that He had forgiven them, the relationship was not merely restored, rather Hashem went to the extreme, and the clouds of glory became a wonder for all of Am Yisrael.
Sukkos celebrates more than a gift. It celebrates a gift that was lost and given back, a relationship that was broken and then renewed in even greater measure. This brings us to the second part of Sukkos, Hoshana Rabbah and Shemini Atzeret. There is something deeply mystical about these days. Hoshana Rabbah is the final day of the long season of judgment that began in Elul, and Shemini Atzeret stands alone. In chutz la'aretz we still sit in the sukkah, though without a berachah, but the chag itself is a distinct Yom Tov. The Torah says of the festival, "v'hayita ach sameach - and you shall be only joyful" (Devarim 16:15), which the Gemara (Sukkah 48a) applies to this final day.
Rashi (Vayikra 23:36) explains the name “Atzeret” with a parable. A king invited his children to a feast for a number of days. When the time came for them to leave, he said, "My children, please, I ask of you, stay with me one more day. Kasheh alai preidaschem - it is hard for me to part from you." Think of the journey we have just completed: Rosh Chodesh Elul, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkos. Hashem says to us, it has been so wonderful to spend this time together. Please stay one more day.
The korbanos tell the same story. On the first day of Sukkos we offer thirteen parim, and the number descends each day until the seventh day, when we offer seven. Together they total seventy, corresponding to the seventy nations, giving Sukkos its universal character. On Shemini Atzeret we might have expected six. Instead we offer a single par. That one par represents the singular, intimate relationship between Hashem and Klal Yisrael. And we say the very same words back to Him: kasheh alai preidascha - Hashem, we cannot bring ourselves to leave You.
That is why (in Eretz Yisrael, where there is no sefieka d’yoma / yom tov sheni shel galuyos) Shemini Atzeret needs no sukkah, arba minim, or shofar. All it needs is the personal connection between Hashem and Am Yisrael. As I would tell my students: pinch yourselves - we are part of this extraordinary relationship that Hashem has with each and every Jew.
On Hoshana Rabbah we take the aravah. Of all the arba minim, it is the least expensive, but if the aravah is missing the mitzvah of araba minim still cannot be fulfilled. The midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 30:12) compares the aravah, which has neither taste nor fragrance, to the Jew who does not yet possess Torah or mitzvos, and still the mitzvah is incomplete without it. We need all of Klal Yisrael; the relationship we celebrate on these final days belongs to every Jew, and we welcome every Jew into it.
We look forward to the day of which the prophet speaks: "Hashem will be King over all the earth; on that day Hashem will be One and His Name will be One" (Zechariah 14:9). Rashi on Shema Yisrael (Devarim 6:4) explains: Hashem, Who is now our God, will in the future be recognized by all of mankind as the One God. Until then, it is this belovedness of Hashem to the Jewish people, and of the Jewish people to Hashem, that has kept us. It will keep us, with yiras Shomayim, all the way to the finish line, the coming of Mashiach, may it be speedily in our days.
The first day of Sukkos reminds us that Hashem surrounded us with His clouds of glory, and that He gave them back to us even after we lost them. The last day reminds us that after all the mitzvos are set aside, what remains is the relationship itself. Shemini Atzeret tells us once again that Hashem goes to the extreme for us. May we do nothing less for Him.