What makes our Yom Tovim so special – so powerful – that the very mention of the name of a Yom Tov awakens sweet memories that lie dormant in our hearts?
Can anyone who ever experienced a Seder forget the songs, the words of the Haggadah, the sheer excitement of the night? These memories are so real that they even allow us to breathe in the delicious aroma of special Yom Tov food.
No sooner does Pesach pass than we stand at Mount Sinai learning the entire night the precious Torah G-d gave us – the most awesome gift humans could ever have received.
And then of course we move on to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which we just celebrated with trepidation and intense prayers. Who cannot but tremble at the words “Who shall live…. Who shall die…. Who by fire…. Who by water….Who shall be elevated…..Who shall be demoted…..Who shall be tranquil and who shall be troubled”?
Then we have the confessions of Yom Kippur, which force us to look at ourselves and confront out despicable spiritual blemishes – our abandonment of our Torah, our indifference to the call of Hashem. Who cannot tremble on such days?
Spiritually exhausted, we now need assurance – a kiss and a hug from our Heavenly Father. Indeed, that is how He instructed our sages to discipline children – with the left hand you push away and with the right hand, the stronger hand, you pull toward you. The lesson is amazing and very powerful. So right after Yom Kippur Hashem brings us into His protective sukkah and assures us of His love.
The sukkah is unstable; strong winds or heavy rains can destroy it. But that is precisely the point. “My children,” Hashem says, “never forget you are under my protection, under my care. Come into My sukkah and I will care for you.”
G-d only asks us to bear in mind that Sukkos is the Yom Tov with the Four Species on which we have to make a berachah every day. Those Four Species represent the Jewish people in all their diversity. They are held together as one. When a Father sees His children united, His heart fills with joy. He has nachas.
“When My children are united,” G-d says, “how can I be angry? How can I not rejoice?”
Indeed that was the last request our patriarch Jacob made on his deathbed: Be one! Unite! If you are united, he assured us, you become invincible. Jacob learned this wisdom from Hashem Himself. Ask any parent and he or she will readily admit that the greatest joy comes from seeing sons and daughters united.
When my family arrived to the United States in 1947, we experienced severe culture shock. This was a land where Jews could be Jews and follow the Torah, and yet most chose not to.
My saintly father, HaRav HaGaon HaTzaddik Avraham HaLevi Jungreis, zt”l, reached out to our secular American Jewish brethren. Sukkos was a perfect time; he built the first sukkah in our Brooklyn neighborhood. My father’s purpose, however, was not to build a sukkah just for our family but for the greater family of Am Yisrael.
To my father, every Jew was “mine teyere kind” – “my precious child.” And those were not just words – they came from his heart and they entered the hearts of whomever he spoke to.
My father was a great rebbe but no one called him that. Everyone called him “Zaida” because he was everyone’s grandfather. And my mother, Rebbetzin Miriam Jungreis, a”h, was never called rebbetzin. No, everyone adoringly called her “Mama.” If you relate to someone as Zaida or Mama, barriers melt and you become part of the mishpachah. But the challenge still remained. How to reach our non-observant American brethren?