The deepest Sukkes Torah
The Sukkah is a Beis Hamikdosh for us
this is the Torah of the fallen Leaves (Schach)
תורה נפלא מרבינו שלמה ב"ר נפתלי זצ"ל קארליבאך
San Francisco October, 1968
When the sky has grown dark and the air chilly, there are two hundred people in the Succah, standing around with paper plates in their hands, talking to each other, eating. A thick October fog, the kind that leaves your clothes damp, has blown in and immerses us. I don't know where all the food has come from. I don't know where all the people have come from.
Shlomo starts singing. People nearby immediately join in. It's a lyrical niggun (song without words). The "A" melody is low, soft, in a minor key, like fog. The "B" melody is bright and soars up high, in the corresponding major key, like sunlight. The endless repetition encompasses and balances the universe. Everyone breathes together. The fog swirls around us.
I'm watching Shlomo. His eyes are darting around the succah, taking in everything. There are two small electric lights tied to the poles, and dozens of candles everywhere. Shlomo recognizes someone at the back of the succah, smiles. Then he closes his eyes and repeats the melody yet another time, lowering the volume. Soon everyone is humming softly. He opens his eyes again, looks around the succah with a serious look on his face, and lowers the volume even further. People are humming so softly you can barely hear it. Two hundred people, most of whom don't know each other, standing and swaying with their arms around each other, nearly silent.
Finally Shlomo speaks. "My sweetest friends," he says. "I have to tell you something very deep. Everybody knows, by us Yidden, among the Jewish people, Yom Kippur is the holiest time of the year, right? We're bringing our souls to God's laundry and He's washing us clean. Everything that's been going on with me that's maybe not so holy and beautiful, God's taking it away, and my soul is shining from one end of the world to the other. It's the ultimate holiness, right?
"But along comes our great spiritual master and teacher, the holy Baal Shem Tov, more than 200 years ago, and we learn something different. We learn that, unbelievable as it sounds, Succos is even holier." People are sitting close, touching each other. We're like one being, absorbing Shlomo's words. I have accepted Shlomo as my teacher. When he is speaking words of Torah, the words are true. My mind is calm and receptive. I can allow the ancient wisdom coming through him to carry me, like a boat drifting serenely in a wide river.
"Okay, listen to this. Where is God's holiness revealed in this world? What is holy space? According to the Midrash, on one level there's the world that God made, which is so sweet and so beautiful. But sadly on another level, I can walk the streets of the world all my life and never really find my place. Imagine that I would be Rothschild and build a big castle somewhere with the most beautiful paintings, and the most beautiful gardens outside. But if I feel like a stranger there, and it's not really my place ... saddest thing in the world, right? The level of Israel, the level of Holy Land means, simple as it is, to be in this world where I am really at home, where I am really in my place. That's a higher level of holy space. Then there is the level of the Holy City, Yerushalayim, Jerusalem, where I mamish know that my space is also God's space. And I can keep going deeper and deeper inside. In the middle of Yerushalayim there is the Holy Temple, the Beis HaMikdash, and in the middle of the Beis HaMikdash is the Kodesk Kodeskim, the Holy of Holies, where the Cohen HaGodel, the High Priest, would go inside once a year, on Yom Kippur, and stand alone with God, and say God's Name.
"Okay now, this is the deepest and most heartbreaking thing. The Gemorrah says that, since the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, the Holy Temple, the Jewish people are in exile, and the whole world is in exile, and there is no place for God's holiness to be revealed in this world. Unbelievably sad.
"The only thing is, by the holy Baal Shem Tov, since the destruction of the Holy Temple, in order for there to be a place for God's holiness in this world, we have to make it ourselves. How do we do this?"
Fog from the San Francisco night drifts into the succah, making little halos around the light bulbs and the candles.
"The holy Zohar says there are two kinds of light. The Or Pneimi, the Inner Light, is contained in a vessel." Shlomo closes his eyes and rocks back and forth. Then he opens them again and looks around. "There are, so to speak, two levels in this world. One is the level of vessels. There are people who are very strong on vessels. Maybe they live in beautiful houses. Maybe they wear beautiful clothes. Everything I'm doing is also a vessel. I can keep all the commandments in the Torah, I can do all the mitzvahs, I can do all the right things. Strong vessels, right?
"Then there are people who are maybe aren't so strong on vessels. Maybe their house isn't so beautiful, and their clothes haven't been to the laundry in a couple of weeks." Shlomo laughs. He looks over at Alex and Moishe and Nadine. They're laughing too. "And maybe they're not exactly always doing the right thing. But when you're with them, you can see, the light is shining so strong.
"You know, sadly, we're living in a world of empty vessels. How many times do you see someone in the street or at the schul and they say, 'How are you?' but you look at their eyes and they don't really want to know. They don't really want to know. Maybe they're thinking, I wonder how much he's donated to the building fund? Or can I get her to help with the lox and bagel brunch?" He laughs, and people around him laugh too. He smiles and flashes a "V" at Donna, who is standing off to the side. She smiles back and shakes her head back and forth.
"Empty vessels, right? But let's say you see someone who really loves you and they say, 'How are you?' You can see that they're shining. Mamish, they really want to know, they really care. Same words, right, same vessels -- so what's the difference? So much inner light. So much holy inner light."
"Okay, friends, stay with me," he says. "As beautiful as it is to have inner light, the Zohar says that there is a second kind of light that is beyond all that. It is too infinite to be contained in vessels. This is the light from before creation, which in the Zohar is called the Or Misavev, the Surrounding Light. This light has nothing to do with our actions, with what we're doing in the world. It's literally not of this world of creation. Imagine I can do everything right a million times over, I can do every mitzvah in the Torah, and still not begin to touch the Surrounding Light. This is also the level of Shabbos. Completely beyond doing.
"The Holy Baal Shem Tov says the most heartbreaking thing. By definition, the Surrounding Light cannot be contained in any vessels, right? But as long as we're in this world, we need vessels to receive anything. Without vessels, I couldn't stay alive. Listen to this, friends, open up your hearts. The Holy Baal Shem Tov says, what vessel is big enough to contain the Surrounding Light? The only vessel big enough to contain the Surrounding Light is a broken heart."
"Okay friends, listen to this," Shlomo says. "Everybody knows, everybody knows, that when we make a succah, it's gotta be beautiful. That goes without saying, right? But what makes it kosher, what makes it real? Simple as it is, the Mishna says that it's gotta have schach, it's gotta have leaves for the roof. And it can't be attached to any plant that's still growing. It's gotta be fallen leaves. Do you know how deep this is?
"Imagine if somebody told you you've gotta make a house for, chvayss, I don't know, somebody very important, a great president, a great scientist, the winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, who was coming to visit, you'd want to buy the finest materials, right? But by us Yiddalach, what do we do when we're building a dwelling place for the King of the World? We find little fallen leaves. Maybe they were lying on the ground. Maybe yesterday somebody was stepping on them. So what do we do? We take these leaves and we lift them up above our head. Then for seven days we sit underneath them.
"On Rosh Hashanah, so to speak, we had the awesome experience of standing at the entrance to the King's palace. We were blowing the sלhofar, saying all the special prayers, doing all the special mitzvahs for Rosh Hashanah, letting the whole world know, letting each other know, that we know we're not in charge here, that no government or president or leader is in charge here, that there's only one Master of the World.
"Succos, we invite the King to come with us into the Succah, to sit with us under the fallen leaves. Unbelievable! Can you imagine? Mamish, we're gathering up all the fallen leaves, and all the broken hearts of the world, and we're sitting underneath them. Why? Because, by Baal Shem Tov, this is the Holy Temple for us when we're in exile. This is the Holy Temple for everyone whose heart is broken. This is where the Surrounding Light is shining. This is where the Queen is dwelling. This is where God is sitting.
"What makes us safe; what makes us secure? All year long, I would say it's a strong house, right? The bricks protect me, and the roof over my head keeps me dry. The only thing is, one time in the year, one sweet, precious week, I leave my house, and move into the little succah.
"The mitzvah on Succos is the simplest thing in the world: to eat and sleep in the succah. One week in the year, one holy week, God is revealing to us, and we have the privilege of knowing, that bricks and roofs, money and bank accounts and jobs and honor in this world, are not what make me secure." Shlomo looks around the succah, slowly, lovingly, taking in every detail. The fog is thick, moving over our heads, drifting through the succah. It's getting chillier and some people are huddled up together against the cold.
"Succos we are privileged to live in the holiness of space and the holiness of time. This is the greatest thing in the world. When the wind blows through the walls, maybe we feel a little bit cold, and when it rains maybe we get a little wet. But living under the shelter of the wings of the Almighty, we know, we mamish know, what it is to be safe, what it is to be home in this world."
