There is just nothing like the joy of the holiday of Sukkot in Israel.
The country seems transformed.
Pulsing with an unbridled joyousness.
“Simchat Beit ha-Shoevas” – Sukkot celebrations — of all kinds. Concerts. Tours. Hikes. Packed cafes. Day trips as varied as the country itself. Audible and uplifting melodious musical Hallel services floating in the air.The ancient Old City of Jerusalem tours. The Kotel. The pilgrimage.
This atmosphere is not expressed by a non-tangible spirit alone.
Look at the landscape of the country! Little fragile temporary huts crowned with pungent green schach or the beauty of bamboo canopies, as overlapping stalks become woven into a ceiling of sorts, beams of light peeking through the cracks, or tiny openings, at times bathing the sukkah in shifting patterns of light.
As these modern day tabernacles — temporary dwelling places of the divine — dot the streets, be they private sukkot of families, a synagogue’s or a cafe’s; as these sukkot fill rural and urban landscapes, the tapestry of these temporary sukkot huts is strikingly picturesque and intriguing.
I’ve parted the curtain and taken a peek into so many different Yerushalmi sukkot. Each uniquely designed and expressive of its builder’s personal taste and vibe.
“Come on in! Have a l’Chaim. Welcome!” This is hospitality personified. These temporary sukkot adorning the sidewalks and streets are often stripped of normative privacy, practically open to anyone on the street. “Sure, just come on in! Have a seat. Here’s some cake. Please make a bracha, a blessing, in our sukkah!”
Glancing at tractate Sukkot, it can at times read like a Dr. Seuss book. Can you build a sukkah on a camel? Can you build a sukkah on a boat? Of course, at the time these questions arose; they were practical and real for those engaged in necessary holiday travel. But other circumstances in the tractate involve a variety of other, whimsically described sukkot.
Shifting our lives to this temporary abode symbolizes surrender and deep faith.
Somehow, though, moving into this temporary sukkah also generates an endless array of whimsical experiences, epitomized by the ultimate sleepover pajama party, i.e., nightly sukkah sleepovers in the nip of the autumn air.
In our modern culture, transporting the ordinary to the out of doors has a way of doing that.
The joy of Sukkot literally spills out onto the streets in Israel as the sounds of both young and old ascending from a large, collective sukkah on the street merge into a sweet sound all its own.
And yet.
Somehow, Oct. 7 is not far away.
Memorial adverts of commemoration programs are already appearing everywhere.
The big undercurrent is this year’s calendar. Like three years ago, Simchat Torah falls on Shabbat. The conscious or subconscious anxiety is real.
I was hosting friends when one of them turns to me with the question, “So did you see that Aruch la-Ner (a 19th-century Talmud commentary)?”
Without the person elaborating, and even though the question was directed only at me, everyone present responds. “Yes.” It’s something we have been carrying since Rosh Hashanah. Apparently it was trending on social media. Aruch la-Ner comments that when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat, that particular year has the potential to either be particularly harsh or particularly blessed.
It has to do with the absence of shofar blowing on Shabbat. Absent is the shofar’s unique visceral prayer from the depths, awakened within us, the non-tangible walls and barriers shattering within us. Absent is the the broken weeping that the shofar signifies.
When Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbat, the first day of Rosh Hashanah is uncharacteristically silent. Mute. It’s public symbol of our primal cry, absent. The year of Covid, Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbat. The year of Oct. 7, mere weeks prior, Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbat.
Under all this joy here, there’s this vague underpinning of anxiety about this year’s Simchat Torah falling out on Shabbat again. This sentiment has surfaced consistently.
Way before the idea of Rosh Hashana falling on Shabbat was raised in my sukkah, the observance of Simchat Torah, the date of Oct. 7 in 2023, on Shabbat again has been mentioned to me by both religious and secular alike.
It’s the trauma talking.
So while each in our own way are all out here celebrating Sukkot to its beautiful fullest — for there truly is nothing like Sukkot in Israel, especially Jerusalem — as each day passes, nearing Simchat Torah, our prayers for a safe holiday intensify.
May it be so.
© IJN 2026
