The tendency to glamorize the past and attribute every virtue to it that we lack is, I believe, not limited to our own age. Every generation regards the past one superior to it in one way or another. I frankly confess my own guilt and complicity in this idealization of the past. We tend to imagine our grandparents’ and their contemporaries as better people, more honest if less sophisticated, more educated even if a bit naïve, and by all means more religious. Nevertheless, while we should beware of these pitfalls in always comparing ourselves unfavorably with generations gone by, there is no doubt that at least in one respect the words of our Rabbis hold true: im heim k’malachim, anachnu kivnei adam, v’im heim kivnei adam, anachnu kachamorim… if the earlier generations were angels, we are, by comparison, just ordinary humans. And if they were only ordinary humans we are, by comparison, donkeys! In what way do I think this statement and poor estimate of our contemporaries is fully justifiable? – in one particular quality that can best be described as “wholeheartedness.” It is the quality of doing a thing with your whole heart and soul, and not just off-handedly and indifferently. An angel, according to the Talmud, is merely another name for some Divine agency that has one particular function or mission in this world and that is all – he performs that and only that with all it has. A human being, on the other hand, has so much and so varied a field, that he dissipates himself. Further, a thoroughly human human being, a man who lives as a man should, lives deeply and profoundly; whereas a donkey does not even eat its hay with much enthusiasm. Earlier generations seem to have had that angelic, or supremely human quality, of living deeply, of living life to the hilt. We moderns seem, quite to the contrary, to skim over life, we never achieve fullness and thoroughness, and usually most of what we do, no matter how important, is done as if it were just an afterthought, or …

The Book of Koheleth we read today is a study in the lack of moderation. It is an inquiry of a restless mind searching passionately for the meaning of life, first proposing solutions which are clearly immoderate, and then rejecting them immoderately. Solomon’s first solution to the problem of how to live is a materialistic one. He will be a man of leisure, drink wine immoderately, assure himself of great publicity, build fabulous homes and gardens, amass a fortune in gold, silver and slaves. It is an intemperate, immoderate, extremely materialistic solution, with no bones made about its plain selfishness. But Solomon rejects this way of life – and the rejection is extreme. No, he says, the whole idea of material possessions and comfort is sheer, absolute nonsense. V’hinei ha’kol hevel u’re’us ruach – it’s just plain vanity, chasing the wind. Next, he is immoderately attracted to the life of the intellectual: ha’chacham einav b’rosho, he says, only the wise man has eyes to see the world as it is, and the educated man is as superior to the poor ignoramus as light is to darkness – k’yisron ha’or al ha’choshech. Again an extremist attitude. But this too he rejects – and with equal vigor and intemperance. Wisdom as a way of life? No, gam zeh hevel, that is as foolish and downright nonsensical as living for eating or for convenience. The wise man and the fool both die, so why bother being wise.But Solomon is a wise man, the wisest of all men ever to have lived. And so he looks for the right way – in Moderation. Ki l’adam she’tov lefanav nassan chochmah v’daas v’simchah – the right kind of man is one who is moderate, who has a little of everything, who sticks to the middle of the road – he has wisdom and knowledge and happiness, he is moderately well read, moderately clever, moderately wealthy, moderately everything. Is not that, the reader feels, the best solution? Isn’t this the point at which Solomon should have put down his pen, wiped his brow and said, “Done with it!…

A new era in the history of mankind opened this week with the launch of the Russian satellite. Most interesting was the reaction of the majority of us to this new development – aside from American chagrin and Russian jubilation concerning the “race” aspect. It was a reaction of fear – even terror. Our defenses all over the world are exposed; we are at the mercy of an uncanny instrument peering down at us maliciously from the heavens. The very fact that it is so high gives not the expected feeling of power that we can make a moon, but rather of our insignificance on earth. In a word, the earth satellite this week has startlingly enhanced man’s natural feeling of insecurity.And is particularly this kind reaction which Sukkos should inspire in us according Rabbi Akiva. Controversy R. Akiva and R. Eleizer: Suukos Mamash or Ananei Ha’kavod. R. Akiva - actual Sukkos, Mi’diras Neva le'diras aray, feeling of transience, temporariness, impermanence. Sukkah is desert hut of rootless wanderer. Sukkah today inspires in man feeling his essential bedouinism - no permanent dwelling, no security. ALL THE WORLD'S A SUKKAH - No roof over head - just exposed! Just the feeling the sattelite gives us - Tzillsah Merubah me'chamassah - more dark than light in life... Sukkah and Sputnick both - tell us we cannot really rely on conventional props in life — wealth, homes, health, family, friends — all Aray - impermanent. Sukkah is an annual reminder of fact that there is no real security in life, even roof over heads at mercy wind & rain, word "security" just figment imagination.Yet we know that this not end of matter. Sattelite may enhance sense insecurity but that must not inevitably drive us full despair? Sukkah is Diras Aray, and Tzillsah Merubah - but isn't it also - despite all this - Zman Simchaseinu. Here is where R. Eliezer comes with second side coin, as follow-up to R. Akiva: yes, Sukkos makes us painfully aware underlying insecurity our world but still is Zman Simchasseinu …

Our rabbis maintain that the three major books written by King Solomon were composed during different times of his life, and that each book represented the mood of the author during that period in which it was written. Thus, the “Song of Songs” – Shir ha-Shirim – was written during Solomon’s youth, when he was most predisposed to the use of romantic metaphor. The “Book of Proverbs” – the Mishle – was written in his middle ages, when a man’s inclinations are towards sententious wisdom, when all the world seems clear to him and he is ready to offer sage aphorisms on how to live. In his old age, Solomon wrote “Ecclesiastes,” the Book of Kohellet, which we read this morning. The Book of Kohellet is neither romantic nor straightforwardly wise. It represents, rather, a maturity that comes from the experience of life itself, from having met skepticism, struggled with it valiantly, and in the end having overcome it. It is not a simple book of easy aphorisms, but a profound and deeply confusing work. And despite, or perhaps because of, the confusion – it remains most enlightening.As a book of his old age, Solomon’s Kohellet presents us with some sturdy prejudices concerning youth and old age. Solomon is not blind either to the vices or the virtues of either youth or maturity. Thus he tells us, “rejoice, o young man, in thy youth,” enjoy the vitality and the vigor that are characteristic of youth; and yet, in the long run, he warns us (ibid.), “but know thou that for all these things G-d will bring thee into judgment.” Youth’s vigor is compounded with folly for which a man must ultimately pay. On the one hand Kohellet will tell us, “better is a poor and wise child than an old and foolish king.” And yet he reminds (ke’tefillat zaken ve’ragil: she’ne’emar mipenei sevah takum – ve’yareta me’elokekha), “woe to thee, o land, when thy king is a mere boy.” Yet if one takes all of Kohellet’s remarks, we have the feeling that all other things being equal, youth is a time of greater f…

Our text for this morning is a familiar verse from the Psalms which we recite every Rosh Chodesh and every holiday as part of the Hallel, and which we recite on this festival of Sukkot as well. That verse is: Ana ha-shem hoshi’a na and Ana ha-shem hatzlichah na. That is generally translated as, “Save us O Lord, Make us prosper, O Lord.” Give us Yeshuah – redemption, help, saving – and Hatzlachah – prosperity, success.The reason for my mentioning this verse on this particular festival is the interesting and arresting fact that on Sukkos we seem to practice discrimination and show favoritism to the Hoshi’a na over the Hatzlichah na. When, during the Hallel, we hold the Lulav and Etrog and perform the Na’anuim, we do so only when we recite Hoshi’a na, not when we recite Hatzlichah na. After the Musaf Service, we recite the prayers called Hoshana. Why do we not recite Hatzlichah na’s? Why do we prefer the Hoshi’a over the Hatzlichah?The answer to that seemingly simple question is in itself a major expression of Jewish Hashkafah, of Jewish philosophy. And the answer is that Hatzlachah indicates worldly or mundane success; financial and social properity. Whereas Yeshuah signifies spiritual eminence, religious redemption, the success of the soul. And what we learn therefrom is, therefore, that Judaism does not look askance at worldly success, at prosperity. It does not look with derision upon material attainments. It does not maintain, as do other religions, that the rich man can never enter the Gates of Heaven. Ana ha-shem hatzlichah na is a valid, legitimate prayer.But at the same time, neither does Judaism teach us to center our lives about the desire for material attainments. Whether one is successful in life or not – in a material, financial sense – is simply irrelevant; it is not, in and by itself, either good or bad. What really counts is spiritual success – Yeshuah, not Hatzlachah. Hatzlachah is merely ephemeral, merely temporary; Yeshuah is of the order of eterni…

It is a pity that we Jews of mid-town do not have the opportunity to build an individual Sukkah for each family. We are missing a great educational experience not only for ourselves and our children, but even for our non-observant Jewish friends and our non-Jewish neighbors – the very ones who are most often amused by the sight of apparently civilized modern people leaving their comfortable, secure, and well-appointed apartments in order to repair to open-roofed huts exposed to the first chills of autumn and at the mercy of rain and other natural nuisances. Yet it is specifically for sophisticated, secure, twentieth century, middle class citizens that the message of Sukkot is most relevant.Allow me to explain the relevance of Sukkot for modern men and women by referring to a debate between two eminent authorities in the Talmud. The Torah commands us to build and dwell in the sukkot for seven days because our ancestors dwelt in them in the wilderness of Sinai. Rabbi Akiva maintains sukkot mamash – the words are to be taken literally: our ancestors lived in makeshift huts that had to be dismantled and reassembled very frequently, therefore we too must experience this transience. As the Talmud puts it elsewhere: tzei mi-dirat Keva ve’ shev be’ dirat aray, for the duration of this festival leave your permanent dwelling place and live in this temporary, makeshift hut called a sukkah – just as your ancestors once did. Rabbi Eliezer, however, maintains that the sukkot of our ancestors does not refer to the actual, physical houses in which they lived. Rather, elu ananei ha-kavod, when the Israelites wandered in the desert they were covered by the “cloud of glory”. G-d stretched His Kavod over them like a cloud to guide and protect them from the elements and enemies. It is a symbol of these ananei Ha-kavod that we enter the sukkah with its covering of sekhakh.Generally this talmudic passage is assumed to be a controversy between the two Rabbis. I believe, however, that ther…

There is no question but that sensitivity is a good thing. It is a sign of culture and a mark of refinement. It is an integral part of the ethical personality. It is also a distinguishing characteristic of the Jew. Our Rabbis of the Mishnah thought that one of the three qualities that determines whether people are truly disciples of our Father Abraham, is: bayshanim – shyness or bashfulness. And what is shyness, the ability to blush and experience embarrassment, if not an expression of sensitivity? The ethical philosophy of Judaism requires of man to imitate G-d; and G-d is sensitive to the cry of the poor, the anguish of the afflicted, the sigh of the suffering. Maimonides taught in his Guide for the Perplexed that sensitivity is a prerequisite for prophecy. Before Moses was permitted to hear the Divine voice from the burning bush, he had to have sufficient ethical sensitivity to be able to rush to the assistance of the seven daughters of Jethro who were oppressed by the shepherds.Yet, like everything else, sensitivity can be overdone. In our tradition, the ideal character is formed by walking along the Shevil ha-Zahav, the golden mean. Hence, we must walk the path of moderation and keep away from the extreme of hypersensitivity as well as from the other extreme of insensitivity. Our Rabbis attribute the destruction of the Holy Temple to the famous incident of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza – a tragedy touched off by much too sensitive people.Most of us decent, well-meaning people, sin in the direction of hypersensitivity rather than insensitivity. If anything, we are too delicate rather than too tough.Herein lies the explanation of a strange prayer which we recite on leaving the Sukkah at the end of this festival: yehi ratzon mi-le’fanekha…ke’shem she-kiyamti ve’yashavti be’sukkah zu, ken ezkeh le’shanah ha-baah leishev be’sukkat oro shel livyatan. “May it be thy will, my G-d and the G-d of my father, that even as I have observed and dwelt in this Sukkah, so may I be priv…

It is interesting to note that the Prophet Zechariah, whose message we read the first day of Sukkot, declares that at the end of days, the Lord will demand of the nations of the world that they observe the festival of Sukkot. What a seemingly dissonant note in the sublime vision of the Messianic era! Beat your swords into ploughshares, practice universal peace, brotherhood, and justice – and build a sukkah! Even more astonishing is the further development of this theme in the Talmud (Avodah Zarah 3a). On the great Day of Judgment, the Sages tell us, G-d will demand an accounting of the umot ha-olam, the nations of the world. They will argue, tenah lanu me’rosh ve’naasenah, give us the Torah now and we shall observe it. G-d will dismiss this request, asking where they were until now. Had they not had over 3,000 years to learn Torah and practice its precepts? af al pi ken, mitzvah kalah yesh li ve’sukkah shemah, lekhu va’asu otah, nevertheless, I have a mitzvah that is easy to perform, quite inexpensive, and that is the building and dwelling in the sukkah – go ahead and observe it. Immediately each of them will build himself a sukkah on his roof. But then Ha-Kadosh Barukh Hu makdir alehem ohamah bi’tekufat tammuz, ve’khol echad ve’echad meva’et be’sukkato ve’yotzei, G-d will cause a hot summer sun to blaze upon them, and because of the discomfort they will contemptuously reject the sukkah and retire to the cool convenience of their own parlors. Truly a remarkable vision of things to come!The late Rav Kook, of blessed memory, saw in this rather strange Aggadah the fundamental difference between Jew and non-Jew in their whole grasp of religion, in the very structure and form of religion. There is no doubt, he maintains, that if G-d would ask of the umot ha-olam to stand erect, or kneel, in prayer for 24 hours, and subject them to the same burning midday sun, that they would not move. Their piety and religious integrity would inspire them to resist all discomforts for t…

The Haftorah that our tradition has ordained for this second day of Sukkot offers us a revealing glimpse into a significant epoch in the life of our forefathers. It tells us of the festivities that occurred when King Solomon dedicated the Bet ha-Mikdash, the holy Temple that he had built, and the moving prayer that he offered at this occasion. While the choice of this Haftorah was, in a formal and outward sense, based upon the fact that this week of festivities and dedication coincided with the holiday of Sukkot, I believe that the teaching of the Haftorah has an inner relation and is peculiarly relevant both to the nature of Sukkot and to the spirit of our own times.When we read the Haftorah carefully, we find recorded a great deal of the pomp and circumstance in ancient Jerusalem. It is enough to warm the hearts of any proud Jew who aspires to the restoration of the ancient national glory of our people and the re-awakening of the great religious spirit of our history. Great crowds gathered in Jerusalem that day. King Solomon was surrounded by the Kohanim and Levites, ve’khol adat yisrael ha-noadim alav ito – and all the congregation of Israel were assembled unto him. One can only imagine the colorfulness and pageantry, the tumultuous song and the dancing of this happy, dedicated assembly. As the King and the elders and the people surrounded the Aron or Ark, sacrifices were offered by the priests — so many, that lo yisafru ve’lo yimanu me’rov, “they could not be told or numbered, so many were they.” The priests then took the Aron to its place in the innermost part of the Temple, to the kodesh ha-Kadashim, the holy of holies. How dramatic that occasion must have been! How impressive to notice how, in the words of the Haftorah, va-yasoku ha-keruvim al-ha-aron, the wings of the cherubim spread forth over the place of the Ark. And when the Kohanim left the Temple, where they ministered, an even more dramatic event occurred: a dense cloud, representing the mysterious a…

Recently, I paid two calls upon two different individuals. One was a condolence call to a mourner sitting shivah. The other was a sick call to a patient in a hospital. By a remarkable coincidence, each of these told me of something he had learned from his experience, and the results were identical. “From my experiences during this confinement, away from my normal activities,” each of them told me, “I have discovered a marvelous truth. To my great relief, I now realize – that I am not indispensable! I had always thought that if I took time out, away from my business or practice, all of it would collapse hopelessly. Now I see that I have been away from my office, my business, my home; and while all might have benefited somewhat by my presence, I might have done things somewhat differently, nevertheless, my absence proved to be no disaster. It is both a welcome and a humbling thought: I am not as crucial to their survival as I thought I was! From now on, therefore, I shall give more time to my wife and my children, to discovering the wonders of the world about me, to attending to my synagogue, to developing my own mind and cultural level. I never realized I could do all these things and get away with it. Now I learned – and not only I but my family as well will be the beneficiaries of my discovery.”I believe all of us can appreciate the simple truth in these remarks. I submit to you, therefore, that the good Lord has given us an easier and more pleasant way to learn that truth than by suffering. He has given us the Sukkah and the festival of Sukkot.The essence of Sukkot is: tzei mi-dirat keva ve’hikanes le’dirat arai, leave your permanent home, and for seven days dwell in this temporary booth. Normally, the interpretation of the significance of this commandment points out the independence of man from his possessions. You need not have a fine house and expensive appointments in order to survive. Consider how for seven days you can get along without them. What you do ne…