Torah Tidbits - The Temporary and Sacred Meaning of Sukkot. - By Rabbi Adam Ruditsky
Sukkot invites us to slow down, notice the world beyond our walls, and find strength not in permanence but in presence. As we sit beneath the stars, we remember that life’s fragility can also be its blessing—a reminder to cherish connection, gratitude, and the sacredness of every fleeting moment. We find new meaning and purpose in our relationships with others, recognising that in the sukkah we always have with us ushpizin, welcomed guests, even if we sit alone.
During the sukkot season, we step out of our sturdy homes and into something intentionally fragile. With open walls and a roof that lets the stars shine through, it feels temporary, but that is precisely the point. In fact, we read in a Talmud (Sukkah 2a), “Leave your permanent dwelling and dwell in a temporary one,” which is designed to remind us that nothing in life is truly permanent. But if anything is permanent, perhaps it is the meaning we bring to it.
Yet, if we look at it wrongly, it is easy to see fragility as weakness. But the sukkah teaches the opposite. Its openness invites us to see the world as it really is—changing, unpredictable, and yet filled with beauty and possibility, connecting the uncertainty and vulnerability of life while embracing the depth of the sacred..
The relationship between the uncertain, or the temporary, and the holy, or the sacred, can be seen in the return of our hostages as approved by Israel’s leadership after 734 days of captivity. Temporary, because while life is not permanent, too many have lost their lives in the worst possible way. Sacred because 20 souls will come home after a terrible, unimaginable captivity. We have to see life redeemed in the midst of life lost.
As Jews and Jewish communities, we also see how the rise of antisemitism and the vocal hate of Israel is another reminder of this season. Here, like the sukkah, we too are subject to the elements around us, exposed to the uncertainties and the messages of what we cannot control. Still, we learn from the sukkah that although uncertainties surround us, we can find meaning and strength in the midst of what looks flimsy. You see, our strength has never come from walls or fortresses—it comes from the enduring truths of Torah, the connections we build with one another, and the unstated value of relationships. Sukkot is another reminder that we are stronger together than apart; we are not meant to travel this world alone.
So, even as the world shifts around us, we build again—one sukkah, one home, one act of kindness at a time. And just like the sukkah, our community may bend in the wind, but it does not break. It endures because we are filled with the hope of a better tomorrow, as even today is also temporary. May we always find hope in the sacred that can never be upended by what is temporal.
Shabbat Shalom v'Moadim L'simcha,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky