After Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, we have hopefully resolved to do better and be better, feeling invigorated and full of life.
Yet, in all likelihood, we return to the daily grind of everyday living with the same habits and routines we had as before. It’s not like we press the reset button and walk out on our families and communities and jobs, and we shouldn’t want to!
But what sort of change can we realistically expect to see if our lives basically stay the same?
Perhaps we can learn from the mitzvah of Sukkah that immediately follows.
The defining feature of a Sukkah is that the roof is made from unprocessed raw plant matter that creates sufficient shade. The classic example is the byproduct of the threshing floor and winery, what’s left once you’ve extracted the useful resources. What’s left isn’t waste that is disposed of; the husks and stalks can be recycled and repurposed and used for the mitzvah of Sukkah.
And that’s precisely what Teshuvah is.
It’s not realistic to make a clean break from the past, to put mistakes wholly behind you and move on. Instead, you should carry the past forward with you; mistakes can become educational steps that help us climb and reach higher if we only learn and improve, and we can evolve.
There’s an old Chassidic saying that highlights Sukkah as the only mitzvah a person does with muddy shoes; muddy shoes are the natural result of our journey through life. The dirt we pick up along the way is intimately interconnected with who we are and wholly inseparable; people who have made mistakes are welcome in the Sukkah.
This may also explain why the Zohar calls the Sukkah the shade of God – God is with us in our dark moments too – צילא דמהימנותא. It may also explain why of all festivals, Sukkos, in particular, is the time of joy – the debits can turn into credits – זְמַן שִׂמְחָתֵנוּ.
There is a mystical element here as well. The Hebrew word for husks and rind is קְלִפָּה. In Kabbalistic symbolism, souls are shining lights, and sins cloak the soul in layers of קְלִפָּה, sort of like an onion. Instead of discarding the קְלִפָּה, Teshuvah transforms it from a bad thing into a good thing.
It’s not a magic trick – sins and transgressions are treated differently based on Teshuvah’s motivation. The way you adapt your past mistakes materially affects the way you incorporate the lessons learned to be a better person.
The Esrog reflects this concept as well; it the choicest of the four species and a symbol of the ideal human who is great in deeds and wisdom. Yet if you cut one open, the edible fruit is tiny – the inedible rind makes up most of the mass; but that’s still what an ideal person looks like. The best of us builds up plenty of rind over time, and that’s simply part of what makes a beautiful Esrog.
Perhaps that’s why Sukkos comes right on the back of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. We shouldn’t just sink back into the same routines as before, but Teshuvah doesn’t need to look like such a radical departure from the past. Change is incremental – it doesn’t have to be so different from past habits and routines; maybe it’s quite similar, but with small improvements and modifications.
Sukkos teaches the holistic view of how we change.
We all make mistakes.
The only real mistakes are the ones you don’t learn from.