Entering the Sukkah
Brenda Shoshanna
There are so many ways in which the practice of Zen and Judaism interact and bring clarity and balance to one another. This is especially clear during the holiday of Sukkot, which comes during the celebration of the month-long Jewish New Year.
Sukkot is deeply connected to the practice of Zen, when monks leave home—become homeless—and let go of much that they’ve clung to, to taste the truth of life.
To celebrate Sukkot, the Jewish people must leave our homes for seven days. We build a little shack in the yard in which we eat, sleep, and receive guests, called a Sukkah. The roof of the shack, covered with branches, is always open so we can see the sky and always be aware of that which is above us. Many prayers and blessings are offered in the Sukkah throughout the seven days.
Sukkot is a time to let go of possessions, and any sense of having a sturdy home. Like the temporary hut we are living in, we are reminded that our lives are also fragile. This is a time to let go of clinging to the material world and return to the Source of our lives.
The main connection we have in the Sukkot is not with our possessions, but with God. The Sukkah is truly a Jewish koan. It is a profound reminder that we are all temporary travelers on the earth. We stop here for a short while, to learn where we truly belong, and make wonderful offerings to others along the way.
When my children were growing up we would build a Sukkah every year. The whole family build the Sukkah together, and as the children decorated it with what they loved, including their drawings, it became a very joyous time.
The Jewish New Year celebration is also called the Days of Rejoicing. The first part is the process of return. We interrupt our usual schedules and rhythms all month long and focus upon different ways of returning to God. This is a time to turn around, let go of all that is superfluous, and open our true hearts.
The second practice in the month, Yom Kippur, focuses upon repentance and forgiveness, allowing us to start the year really new. In preparing for Yom Kippur it is suggested that we call everyone we know and say, “If I have done anything at all to hurt you this year, please forgive me.” This opens so many opportunities not only for reconciliation, connection, and understanding, but for turning to one another with love.
Although it can be difficult, once it is over, we feel cleansed and ready to go forward with joy.
The Sukkah is then built and in it there is a great deal of singing and rejoicing. This is a deep way of offering thanks and blessings, for being alive, being together, sharing love. During our rejoicing we become more and more aware of the incredible gift of life itself, and honor God for it. And in our honoring of our Creator, we bless everyone in the four corners of the earth.
Most people do not realize that Judaism is a universal practice, where all are included. The true practice, just like Sukkot, binds all together. In the Sukkah we bind different species together, different kinds of leaves. One is very pungent, another a beautiful myrtle, and another plain, simple willow. Then we wave these in the different directions to cover all of the earth, including all in our blessings.
Why do we bind these species together? To show that all are One. The practice is about oneness, accepting all parts of life, ourselves and others, the parts that are pungent, the parts that are fragrant, all the different aspects. Then we make the blessing with and for all.
Nothing is disowned in the Sukkah, everything and everyone is included. In fact, it is said that when we call the angels to come in and bless us, they won’t come if we don’t have a guest there with us. In other words, the angelic aspect of ourselves won’t emerge unless we’re open to everyone, inviting guests into our life, our hearts, our home. One of the most important parts of Sukkot is to invite guests and share the joy.
My grandfather loved Sukkot, and he did it in a very unique way, I didn’t realize how unique until I got older. Everybody came to his Sukkot because he was so welcoming and open to all. He told me that all the guests who came to the Sukkah were a part of me. When I welcomed and cared for them, I was caring for the many parts of myself.
After the holiday is over, God asks us to linger with Him for just one more day. We’ve been so disrupted for a month, and now must not simply return to the way things were. Instead, we must take more time with our Source, and return changed and whole.
This profound instruction always deeply moved me and reminded me of Zen practice. What are we doing on the cushion when we do zazen? Not only do we stop moving and running around, but we are lingering with God, not rushing into our mindless activity, but honoring each moment of our lives.
Sukkot comes to remind us that, like our life itself, the roof of the fragile Sukkah can be blown away in the wind at any moment. And we can, too. Just like our body, the Sukkah is not a permanent dwelling. For the week of Sukkot, we enter the experience of transience and honor it. Our usual home and way of life can seem permanent and solid, but Sukkot comes to say no, that’s an illusion. The Sukkah is not an illusion, but the rest of life is.
When God asks us to linger with Him one more day, that’s not transient, we are being invited back to our real home, from which we can never depart. Our real home appears on our Zen cushion as well, and when we get up from the cushion, wherever we go, we are where we truly belong.
A traveler,
Let me be known thus,
This autumn evening.Basho
This talk appears in the book, Digging in the Earth to Find the Blue Sky, in autumn, 2021.
Brenda Shoshanna is the author of many books, including Jewish Dharma (A Guide to The Practice of Judaism and Zen). www.jewishdharmanow.com