I used to associate the ‘High’ in the High Holidays with our Temple’s towering ceiling, as well as with the official higher ups who dominated the scene.

After taking our High Holiday admission tickets, the Temple usher would quietly show us down the aisle to our seats, from where we looked up to the Rabbi, Cantor and dignitaries seated high on the stage up front. The Rabbi lectured, the Cantor sang and the Congregation President presided while the rest of us listened passively and respectfully in our reserved seats.

All was very silent except for the occasional page turning rustle. And all was very quiet and sedentary, except for a “Congregation, Please rise” here and there following the cantor’s instructions.

It was only natural that my eyes drifted away from the prayerbook’s solemn Thous and Thees, wandered over to the Ark’s red velvet curtain, following the exquisite woodwork and elaborate engravings up to the Ten Commandments on top. As my gaze ascended even higher unto the awesome above, I related the “He Who Dwelleth on High!” cantorial chants with the lofty chandeliered ceiling soaring overhead.

The Sukkot Revolution
Back then, I’d never heard of the Sukkot holiday. The "Feast of Tabernacles" posted on the Temple’s marquee sounded so Southern Baptist that I ignored it.

Who knew that the solemn High Holidays also involved nitty gritty action, rolling up sleeves, hammer and nails, noise and clatter, banging and sawing, dancing and singing, real joy and celebration.

My spiritual exploration led me to discover the modest ramshackle Sukkah located right behind the High Holidays.

Roofless, But Not Homeless
It doesn’t look grand and impressive as the Holy Ark, but the humble little Sukkah is truly a Divine abode with a warm welcoming atmosphere of its own.

In addition to abstract philosophical concepts way up there, it showed me that Judaism actually encourages me to get physical! And practically, the Sukkah offers protective shelter, a small peaceful zone in a big busy world.

I found the Sukkah to be a great equalizer. Thank G-d, they don’t ask you for a High holiday ticket to enter the Sukkah. Its hearty grassroots service is not hierarchy driven, and it welcomes in everyone, high and low.

Major Home Improvement
Constructed of any material that’ll stand up to the wind, the Sukkah walls are covered by a scramble of tree branches, bamboo sticks, corn stalks, bush trimmings and garden clippings.

Sky’s the Limit!
The heavenly stars peeking through the roofless Sukkah made me realize that my Temple’s vaulted ceiling actually blocked my view of the Divine expanse. Without a plastered ceiling overhead, the creative Sukkah helps us think out of the box!

The Sukkah erases socioeconomic differences, as even the rich leave their mansions to camp out at the grace of the elements.

Mitzvah de Jour
Celebrating in the Sukkah is as nourishing and fulfilling as the hot Holiday soup. Rosh Hashanah is the King of Prayer and Yom Kippur offers Atonement, but Sukkot brings it all down to earth. Sukkot and Simchat Torah is where the action is!

Hammering It In
Jackie Mason jokes about Jews who use butter knives as screwdrivers. I, too, am tool challenged, but you don’t need an architectural degree to assemble the Sukkah’s simple panels and two by fours.

With ceilings everywhere limiting our visions and horizons, the Sukkah is literally a breath of fresh air. And in our era of complicated structures and strictures, the Sukkah’s simplicity is a major stress reliever.

I’m not trying to escape reality. The Sukkah is just for one week, but it sets the tone for the rest of the year.

Okay, the Temple’s Holy Ark is professionally designed, while my flimsy Sukkah lacks polish. But the Sukkah is meant to be simple, raw and rustic. The exclusive Ark houses holy scrolls, but those very Torahs applaud the inclusive Sukkah for hosting my family and me, ‘cause that’s where it’s at.

© 2004 Eli Robin