This article by Rabbi Maor Greene, associate chaplain for Jewish Life, was originally published in The Wisdom Daily, The National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership's outlet for political, cultural and spiritual commentary, analysis and inspiration. CLAL is a leading Jewish organization focused on innovation and belonging.
I have always loved the Jewish holiday of Sukkot. After exploring heavy themes of life, death, repentance, and forgiveness during the high holidays, I enjoy hanging out in a sukkah, reconnecting with nature, and experiencing life’s simple pleasures. This year, however, Sukkot feels different. Living in North Carolina, I am still shaken by the destruction wreaked by hurricanes Helene and Milton, storms made worse by climate change. What does it mean to dwell in a sukkah in the face of countless human-caused ecological catastrophes?
Traditionally, the two big themes of Sukkot are vulnerability and joy. We embrace the vulnerability of our human existence by dwelling in a temporary home – our sukkah. The holiday is also called z’man simchateinu, the season of our joy. These two themes of vulnerability and joy work together – by being in touch with the vulnerability of our human existence, we can experience a deeper sense of joy.
Joy and vulnerability are also key themes in the book of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes), read during Sukkot. Kohelet opens with a full-blown existential crisis: “Utter futility!—said Koheleth—Utter futility! All is futile! What real value is there for a person in all the gains they make beneath the sun?” (Kohelet 1:2-3).
Kohelet eventually accepts (or resigns himself) to the fate of humanity. He describes in 5:17, “Only this, I have found, is a real good: that one should eat and drink and get pleasure with all the gains they make under the sun, during the numbered days of life that God has given them; for that is their portion.” Kohelet learns to find joy alongside vulnerability.
The problem for many of us today is that Kohelet’s existential angst (and its resolution) are founded on a false premise. In 1:4, Kohelet observes, “One generation goes, another comes, But the earth remains the same forever.” Kohelet believes that humanity cannot fundamentally change existence on earth. However, living with the catastrophic effects of global warming, we now know this to be untrue.
There is a Midrash (ancient interpretation) that addresses humanity’s destructive potential. Kohelet Rabbah 7:13:1 states:
“Look at God’s work – for who can straighten what He has twisted? (Kohelet 7:13). When the Blessed Holy One created the first human, He took him and led him round all the trees of the Garden of Eden and said to him: ‘Look at My works, how beautiful and praiseworthy they are! And all that I have created, it was for you that I created it. Pay attention that you do not corrupt and destroy My world: if you corrupt it, there is no one to repair it after you.'”
The Midrash transforms a verse from Kohelet into the existential question of our time: if we destroy our planet, who will repair it? Future generations must live with the consequences of our behavior.
My hope for us all celebrating Sukkot this year is not that we dwell in a place of guilt, anxiety, despair, or numbness. Climate psychologists have shown that we must work with our feelings, rather than avoiding them or becoming stuck in them. Our feelings about the climate crisis must be welcome guests in our Sukkah.
This year, I hope we experience a deeper sense of our own vulnerability. We are connected to this earth and dependent on it for survival. Like Kohelet, I hope that embracing our vulnerability leads to joy. There is certainly much work to do in repairing the world. I pray that the joy we experience during Sukkot strengthens our resolve to do our part in caring for our planet in the year to come.
Views expressed in this column are the author’s own and not necessarily those of Elon University. The original article appears here.