One of the things I find so special about our traditions is that, throughout the year, we live our history.* In this way, when, on Pesach, we say “we were slaves to Pharoh in Egypt,” we FEEL we were.
According to tradition, the first day of Elul, the last month of the Jewish year, is when the Golden Calf incident occurred. When Moshe Rabbeinu saw what had happened he smashed the tablets written with G-d’s finger. He then had to climb back up to the top of Mount Sinai, where he spent 40 days creating a new set of tablets, this time carved by him, but dictated by G-d.
When he returned, it was Yom Kippur. And by granting us a new set of tablets, signifying our covenant with G-d, Moshe Rabbeinu was forgiven, and so were we.
After this, we spent 40 years wandering in the dessert. We were exposed, vulnerable, and completely dependent on G-d for the weather and our food. Not in the abstract way… in a direct way. Each day we went to bed believing that tomorrow, too, Manna would fall and feed us. And it did.
On Sukkot, we live through the time when we wandered through the desert. Our roofs are not solid but rather are permeable, our “homes” have no permanent foundations because they are only temporary dwellings. We are on our way… to our permanent home. No, not the one we can see from the Sukkah. To Israel.
*Note: most Jewish traditions and holidays have more than one meaning/explanation/lesson. I am focusing on specific ones for the purpose of this post.
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