SUKKOT was Supposed to be a REMINDER

 

The Sukkot holiday, now upon us, was meant to remind the Jewish people of our time as a homeless nation, living in tents, on the way to the promised land.

I have lived through many Sukkots, and it doesn’t seem to do any such thing.

 

During the Great Depression, large shantytowns popped up all over the land. They were nicknamed “Hoovervilles,” in reverse honor of the then president, Herbert Hoover (1929-1932) whose misfortune was to usher in the economic downturn.  Today, our cities have homeless encampments that don’t even get to be categorized as huts. They are tents stretching for miles.

 

 As such, the commandment to dwell in tents that have porous roof covers (“Sukkot” in Hebrew) could be a reminder of those who do not have solid roofs over their heads. But as I have witnessed all my life, these happy super decorated lovely sukkots are a place to party, leisurely sipping outsized drinks and hors d'oeuvres. They are nothing if not lovely excuses for garden parties.

It’s nice, but no longer serves as it was intended.

 

I’m honoring Sukkot by being grateful for the roof over my head. I’m skipping the party.

Are We There Yet?

 

You’ve heard the question, and likely asked it yourself.

“Are we there yet?" ask the children, sitting in the back seat of the car.

“Are we there yet?” asks the dog, waiting for the next feeding.

“Are we there yet?” asks the writer of the editor, hoping the last revision nailed it.

 

The question reminds me of the late great Yeshayahu Leibowitz, a professor of chemistry and a religious philosopher. He said to be wary of anyone who tells you when the messiah will come, for the messiah is always coming but never there yet.

 

After the year we’ve had, I hear this question almost daily. If not from others, then inside my head.

But then I remember Leibowitz, and answer myself. We are always on the way, never there.

 

Living in the moment.

©by Shelagh Duffett