In explaining why it is permissible to eat in another person’s sukkah on the first night of Sukkot – despite the fact that personal ownership is required to fulfill the obligation of lulav and etrog on the first day – the Gemara (Sukkah 27b) cites the verse: “kol ha-ezrach b’yisrael yeishvu ba-sukkot, every native in Israel must dwell in huts” (Vayikra 23:42).
More than the exact mechanics of this derivation, what is most interesting is the language the Gemara uses to express the point: “this teaches us that it is fitting for all Jews to be able to sit in one sukkah.”
It is striking that the Gemara communicates an otherwise straightforward law in such an evocative manner. What does this image of the entire people sitting in a single sukkah mean? What deeper message is being conveyed?
Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook explains that unity among Jews is actually the most natural spiritual state. While we like to make jokes about Jewish in-fighting – 2 Jews, 3 opinions, etc. – the truth is that factionalism and divisiveness run counter to our essence. Unfortunately, explains Rav Kook, our sins contaminate our soul and, as a consequence, cloud the reality of our unity.
The good news is that this tragic situation can be repaired after Yom Kippur, as the holiness of the day and the purifying powers of teshuva have the power to return things to the way they ought to be. We emerge from Yom Kippur, therefore, closer not only to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, but also to our fellow Jews.
The arrival of Sukkot, coming on the heels of this purification, is an ideal opportunity to demonstrate the increased feelings of brotherhood and harmony between all Jews. It is this achdut, suggests Rav Kook, refracted through the lens of our holy Torah and mitzvot, that the Gemara is alluding to when it describes the entire Jewish people is sitting together in one sukkah (Mo’adei Ha-Re’ayah, 96).
This idea may also illuminate a phrase woven into our tefillot: sukkat shelomecha – the sukkah of peace. Perhaps the intent is not only protection from some external threat, but something more intimate: the shalom within. The sukkah of peace, on this reading, is the shelter of achdut – the unity that holds a family together even when the winds blow hardest.
While the sukkah – and the holiday of Sukkot – may lend particular focus to this idea, the Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim 3:43) actually suggests that fostering friendship and cultivating closeness is a larger goal of all of the festivals.
The Maharatz Chajes (Niddah 34), a great nineteenth-century Galician scholar, deepens this idea with a striking observation. He turns his attention to a well-known halachic phenomenon: certain rabbinic rules governing the ritual purity of food – rules that ordinarily distinguish between chachamim and amei ha-aretz, scholars and the uneducated – are suspended during the holidays (Chagigah 26a).
The Maharatz Chajes acknowledges that these distinctions may be necessary during the rest of the year to preserve the integrity of taharot, ritually pure food. But their practical consequence, even if unintentional, is corrosive: they breed distrust and make it impossible for these two groups to share a meal together. On festivals, he argues, this situation becomes intolerable, because it directly contradicts what he considers the primary purpose of aliyah la-regel, the pilgrimage to Yerushalayim, which is, in his words, “lechaber et libot Yisrael zeh la-zeh: to bond the hearts of Israel to one another.” And so the rabbis relaxed the laws governing the purity of food and allowed the different groups to eat together, so that, as he puts it, “tigadel ha-ahavah v’yitchabru ha-levavot zeh la-zeh, the love between Jews will grow, and their hearts will bond together.”
This is a message worth internalizing, because genuine expressions of ahavat Yisrael and real achdut tend to emerge only in the shadow of tragedy. More often than not, it takes the spilling of Jewish blood – whether in Israel or anywhere in the world – to remind us of our essential brotherhood.
But achdut is not a value reserved for our darkest hours. It can be achieved, and must be pursued, in good times as well. What better occasion, then, to deepen our love for fellow Jews than the celebration of the festivals – and, in light of Rav Kook’s insight, what better time than Sukkot?
May we all be blessed with a beautiful Sukkot, shared with family and united with all of Israel.
Rabbi Dovid Gottlieb is the Managing Director of Tzalash. Rabbi Gottlieb is also a rebbe at Yeshivat Har Etzion and the rabbi of Kehilat HaEla.