Why Do We Read Kohelet on Sukkot? Bonus: Yes. You can Use your House Walls...

There is a surprising custom of reading the book of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) during the holiday of Sukkot. It’s surprising because when we think about Sukkot, we usually think about joy, simcha. We refer to it as zeman simchatenu, the time of our joy, just like on Passover we say zeman cherutenu, the time of our freedom, or zman matan torateinu, the time of the giving of our Torah, on Shavuot. But Kohelet is not exactly an uplifting text.. One of its best-known teachings points out that the righteous, the wicked, the wise, and the foolish all end up in the same place. Its verses often seem more fitting for a funeral than for a joyous celebration. Kohelet itself even says that a house of mourning is better than a house of feasting, and there are verses from the book that are traditionally read at funerals in some communities. One of its famous lines is, “There’s nothing new under the sun,” another example of its bleak outlook. The logic behind it can be summed up as: “You’re not the first, you won’t be the last, and just like you don’t remember those before you, people won’t remember you either.”

Now, some of you might say, “Rabbi, wait, isn’t the Sukkah a temporary structure? Doesn’t that fit with the message of Kohelet?” That’s true, and it’s the reason why Rabbi Fried, of blessed memory, wanted a Sukkah in his honor rather than a more permanent structure. But does this help us answer our question? Or does it make things worse? Now we have both a book and a nice hut that remind us of funerals on this most joyous of days. Is that what will help us be happy on Sukkot?

So, which is it? Is the Sukkah a happy symbol or a somber one? Is Kohelet a text for celebration or for mourning? The answer, it seems, is a little bit of both.

Let’s start by looking at the Sukkah. Our sages offer many reasons for the tradition of Sukkah, some of which help us experience joy. Sitting outside in the shade when the weather is nice is pleasant. Our sages even say that in the messianic future, when everything is great, no more wars or worries, people will still sit in Sukkot because it’s nice to sit in the shade. The Sukkah also reminds us of our history—God provided for the Israelites in the wilderness, protecting them with the Clouds of Glory. They didn’t have to worry about having a home because God provided security directly. So, Sukkot is a celebration of God’s love that he showed us in the desert. Sukkot is also a thanksgiving holiday for shepherding creation through another year, right after the high holidays. In the Temple, our ancestors would offer 70 offerings, thanking God, likely on behalf of the nations of the world

On the other hand, we also see the humbling side of the Sukkah. Often, when the Torah tells us to perform a mitzvah because "you once were," it’s about humility. You were once strangers in a strange land, so don’t think you’re better than the strangers you meet. You were once slaves in Egypt, so don’t act like aristocrats. You might live in security today, but it wasn’t always that way. Don’t forget where you come from.

Let me stop here for a moment and ask a question.

Have you ever heard the idea that you can only use one wall from your house or a pre-existing structure for your sukkah? [RDA: The answer was a definitive “yes” from some people]. You know, growing up, I had never heard this. In fact, I was taught you can even build a Sukkah by removing part of the roof of your house and using the walls.

The truth is, every building is ultimately impermanent, and no building is impregnable. The important thing is piercing the illusion of permanence and solidity. Replacing the roof was apparently enough to do that according to the rabbis. Still, the idea that you can’t use your house walls is a very common understanding. I’ve met several people in different places who were taught it. I don’t know, maybe it was spread by “Sukkah Depot” (chas vachalila)?

Speaking seriously, however, I believe the sages had great respect for people’s religious intuitions about the rituals they practice. Perhaps there are good reasons why American Jews felt the need to further distance the sukkah from the house. Perhaps it teaches us something about how we relate to our homes today? Also, the last century saw major changes in our religious worldview. Astronomy, space exploration, and even the weather channel changed how the average person relates to the idea of God “up there in the heavens.” Using schach for your roof is a much more powerful metaphor in a world where God is above, directing the heavens, the sun, the stars, and the rain. Perhaps people latched onto the idea that the residence, including the walls, has to be impermanent because that message resonates more in a world where the Earth's sky holds fewer mysteries.

So, we’ve shown how the Sukkah represents both joy and impermanence. But what about the book of Kohelet? Many authorities ask why we read Kohelet on Sukkot, and the answer often boils down to its teachings on the true meaning of happiness. Kohelet tells us that happiness comes not from constant striving for more—more wealth, more pleasure—but from being content with what you have.

Perhaps the most obvious implication for us is that we appreciate what we have when we step away from it. Sukkot gives us that perspective about our homes. If we focus on the past as understood by the Torah, we step back and appreciate that once we had nothing, and now, if we are so blessed, we have homes and security. But I think we also read Kohelet on Sukkot to remind us that happiness and joy are gifts in and of themselves. One of the main arguments the book puts forward is that two people can be in the same situation, with the same job, money, pleasures, options, and family, but one is happy, and one is not. For this and other reasons, according to Kohelet, joy is a divine gift. Kohelet teaches us that it’s foolish to spend all our days working, making money, and amassing assets, especially if it’s largely for someone else, without taking the time to enjoy life. What’s the point otherwise?

I think reading Kohelet on Sukkot reflects the importance of having regular times to celebrate. The idea that happiness comes from God also means that God commanded us to take breaks and to give breaks, setting aside time for celebrations, like Sukkot, even when we think, "I could be working more" or "how can we celebrate when there’s war and suffering?" God knows we need moments of joy, that celebration is a human need. Sometimes we need permission to celebrate, and sometimes we need to be reminded to help others find joy.

The most pertinent examples for me of how sometimes we need to allow ourselves to celebrate for our own sakes and for others come from discussions around the celebration of Simchat Torah after October 7th. October 7th happened on Shemini Atzeret, which outside of the land of Israel is just before Simchat Torah. Last year, after that terrible day, I heard that one of the local rabbis in Riverdale stated that there were children who had never danced with the Torah, who were waiting for this day to celebrate, dance, dress up and eat candy, and they deserved that celebration. The synagogue leadership, rabbi included, were as in need of space to process the horrors of the day as anyone, but they decided to prioritize the celebration for the kids. I heard it was incredibly meaningful for the adults who attended. More recently, I saw some rabbis and cantors discussing whether to do anything for October 7th on this upcoming Simchat Torah, since it was also Simchat Torah. However, it seemed most people were on the same page. Shemini Atzeret is the actual date and has Yizkor already where we commemorate martyrs, so that makes sense. But not Simchat Torah. “Hamas,” they said, “doesn’t get simchat Torah.” "Hamas doesn't get simchat Torah."

Sukkot is about celebrating life together, the harvest, nature, and making it through another year. It teaches us not to take ourselves or our possessions so seriously that we can’t take a break to celebrate. Even worse is taking them so seriously that we don’t let those who work for or live under us celebrate. Homes and belongings can help us feel safe, and that is important (Kohelet would say it’s certainly better than the alternative). But homes and belongings aren’t the purpose of life. We need to remember that joy comes from within and from taking the time to experience it with each other.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Dave Almog
Shabbat Hol Hamoed
10-20-24