"Some periods of history just get overwhelmed by what happens afterwards": Rabbi Wein

 Speaking to a packed Beit Midrash in Beit Knesset Hanassi, Rabbi Berel Wein opened his latest lecture series, The Jewish World 1880-1914. In this first lecture Rabbi Wein focused on the three major centres of Jewish life in Western Europe--the United Kingdom, France and Germany.

"History is not made by general trends but by people", Rabbi Wein began: this established his methodology for the evening, looking at the lives of some of the most prominent Jews of that era.

Starting with the United Kingdom (which at that time included what is now the Republic of Ireland), Rabbi Wein described the rise to power of Benjamin Disraeli -- novelist, apostate, pro-Jewish campaigner and ultimately Prime Minister during the lengthy reign of Queen Victoria. Regarding himself as an Englishman of Jewish birth, he faced down his critics and opponents by unapologetically asserting the nobility of his Jewish origins. Rabbi Wein referred briefly to one of the most famous examples of Disraeli's bold stance, which goes like this:

Daniel O’Connell, the Irish Roman Catholic leader, attacked Disraeli in the House of Commons. In the course of his unrestrained invective, he referred to Disraeli’s Jewish ancestry. Disraeli replied, ‘Yes, I am a Jew, and while the ancestors of the right honorable gentleman were brutal savages in an unknown island, mine were priests in the temple of Solomon.

Turning to matters religious, Rabbi Wein then gave a fascinating account of the development of the institution of the Chief Rabbi, which spread to several countries that were under British rule (South Africa has a Chief Rabbi to this day). The very Britishness of this institution made it anathema to later generations of immigrants from Eastern Europe, who rejected this Germn-influenced office and became the charedi community of the United Kingdom today.

Rabbi Wein next turned his attention to France, a country that was known for its inherent antisemitism and for the institutional hostility of the French Catholic Church.  Here Rabbi Wein went into some detail in explaining not only the legal background to the famous Dreyfuss trial but also its pivotal role in reminding French Jews that assimilation -- despite its huge attraction -- was not a viable option in the hostile social environment in which they lived. The role of author and journalist Emile Zola in exposing the fraudulent nature of the trial and the reasons in his article, J'Accuse!, was also emphasised. So here in France, as in the United Kingdom in the case of Disraeli, it was someone from outside the Jewish community who made a vital contribution to Jewish survival.

Finally Rabbi Wein reached Germany, a country only recently cobbled together from some 160 little duchies, principalities and self-governing entities. The mastermind behind this enterprise was the brilliant German diplomat Otto von Bismarck (right). The fusion of these mini-states was effectively done under the leadership of Prussia -- the most powerful of them and also, following a treaty, the ruler of approximately one-third of Poland (Silesia, an area with a large Jewish population). Bismarck's political plans did not include persecution of the Jews; rather, he made it easier for them to escape the confines of local restrictions and to enter into regular German society.  

At this point, we meet Moses Mendelssohn -- an orthodox and practising Jew but a man who was convinced that Judaism was in need of an uplift in order to bring it more into line with modern Jewish life. Being the centre of intellectual fervour, Germany was unsurprisingly the place where many scholars -- Jewish and otherwise -- exchanged ideas, arguments and their views on religious doctrine. This is where we also learned of Rabbi S. R. Hirsch, his orthodox ally-cum-rival Rabbi Y. D. Bamberger, as well as Abraham Geiger and the Reform movement, which was seen as a bulwark against conversion to Christianity. Rabbi Wein concluded by pointing out the fallacy of this reasoning: it simply offered a way to assimilate into German society without commitment and without the inconvenience of becoming a Christian.

Not a tourist or a refugee: Lech Lecha 5785

We are fortunate to have not one but two divrei Torah from Rabbi Wein for this week. This devar Torah was circulated with the Hanassi Highlights, but the one below ("From the Universal to the Special") is the devar Torah that was originally prepared. Please enjoy them both!

The first two words of the second verse of this week’s Torah reading have received much attention and a great deal of comment. This is because the second of those two words—lecha (“for you”)—appears to be redundant. Rashi therefore interprets it as meaning “for your benefit and for your own good.” On the basis of this interpretation the Lord instructs Abraham to leave his homeland and family in Mesopotamia in order to achieve the greatness that is inherent within him, as the forebear of nations and the founder of the Jewish people.

An alternative interpretation of lecha has always fascinated me. Travel can be an enjoyable experience that also broadens the mind. A worldwide travel industry continues to burgeon as people increasingly crave visits to unseen shores and exotic locations. If travel is such a pleasant pastime, why should we consider Abraham and Sarah’s journey from Mesopotamia to Canaan as a challenge and a test of Abraham’s faith in the Almighty? The answer lies in the fact that lecha implies permanence. Reading between the lines, the message to Abraham is this: “Never again will you return home to Mesopotamia. You are not a visitor, a tourist or a traveler. When you depart you will do so as a stateless refugee and an alien”. Unlike Rashi’s interpretation of lecha, this second explanation has an ominous ring to it. Abraham and Sarah were about to face a truly challenging journey. They were not going on vacation.

Abraham’s descendants, the Jewish people, have shared this test and faced the same challenge throughout our long history. We have experienced insecurity and impermanence during the long night of our exile and dispersal. Even countries where Jews resided for centuries, such as Spain, Germany and Poland, eventually ceased to accommodate our presence. Even when we played a positive part in the culture of the nations that hosted us, we were “in” but remained the odd men out. How did we survive these enormous trials? Because we always believed and knew that eventually we would be going home. We prayed for it to happen and we struggled against all odds and enemies to make it happen. And, in our time, it did.

This belief in our return to Zion and Jerusalem sustained us in our darkest hours. It transferred us in our own minds—though not in the minds of others— from the status of tolerated but unwanted aliens into visitors and sojourners who actually have a legitimate and permanent home elsewhere. This is the feeling I have every time I travel abroad and present my Israeli passport for inspection. I am no longer a pariah or a refugee but a visitor, a tourist, perhaps even an honored guest. The children of Abraham have returned home.

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

From the universal to the special: Lech Lecha 5785

In this parsha the Torah’s narrative now proceeds from the general, universal story of humanity to concentrate on the specific narrative of the founding of the Jewish people. From this and next week’s parshiyot we learn of Avraham and Sarah, their difficulties and challenges, their loneliness and their spiritual quest. Their biographies show how they create the prototype for all later Jewish and familial society.

The Torah, unlike many contemporary hagiographies, avoids painting a blissful picture of righteous people who are forever blessed with serenity, immaculate character and perfect behavior. Rather, it shows us the ever-present challenges to faith in the Almighty: the difficulties of maintaining domestic harmony and of creating a positive worldview while surrounded by enemies, jealousy and an immoral public culture.

Tradition and the Mishna crown Avraham with the laurel of having withstood and overcome ten major challenges in his lifetime. Remarkably, the great Jewish commentators to the Torah differ as to which ten challenges the Mishna is referring to. Indeed, if we combine all of their opinions, there are a significantly greater number of challenges in the life of Avraham than just ten. The Torah’s portrayal of these events – the wandering and rootlessness of coming to the promised land of Israel, the disloyalty of Lot, domestic difficulties with Sarah and Hagar, the behavior of Pharaoh and his courtiers, to mention only a few – reveals a life of struggle, of pain, of striving and of hurdles still to overcome. 

In spite of all the very troubling details and incidents that the parsha records, there is a tone of optimism and fulfilled purpose that permeates the entire parsha.  Even the cursory reader senses that Avraham and Sarah are up to something great and that this is no ordinary tale of pioneering and struggle. There are Godly covenants and blessings, commitments made that surely will be met. We also learn of visions of a great and influential people, and of a holy land.

God’s relationship with humankind generally will be centered in His relationship with the family of Avraham, Sarah and their progeny. Nations and beliefs will vie for the honor of being the descendants and followers of Avraham. Millions will adopt his name and follow his monotheistic creed. He and Sarah will be some of the most influential personages in world history. They will not avoid trouble and travail in their personal and family lives; great will be their reward in spiritual and historical achievement. As such, they truly are the forerunners of the story of the Jewish people – a small and lonely people, wanderers and beset by inner disloyalty and external persecution while remaining optimistic and vastly influential in a manner that belies its physical numbers and temporal power.

So Avraham is the father of many nations and of all monotheistic believers. But he is special to us because he is the founder and father of the Jewish people whose march through human history parallels his own. The Godly covenant and blessings will assuredly be fulfilled through the accomplishments of the Jewish people, its nationhood and land.

Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

Lech lecha: Are we listening?

Here's another thought-provoking piece by our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, on why this parasha is such a powerful call to make aliyah.

The central theme of this week’s Torah portion, Lech Lecha, is the command for Avraham to leave his homeland and journey to Eretz Yisrael, the land that Hashem promised to show him. The words "לךְ־לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָ וּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָ" (Go forth from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house, to the land that I will show you) are the very first mitzvah ever given to a Jew. Rav Meir Yechiel of Ostrovtza points out that Hashem could have begun Judaism with any number of commands. Yet the first message to Avraham, the first Jew, was to leave his familiar surroundings and settle in the special land that Hashem chose.

Why did Hashem choose this as the foundational mitzvah? R. Yehudah HaLevi, in Sefer HaKuzari, explains that Avraham, already the most righteous person of his generation, had reached a spiritual level where he was ready to connect with the Divine in an even deeper way. Eretz Yisrael, the land uniquely suited for spiritual perfection, was the only place where Avraham could reach his full potential. Even though Avraham had already attained a high level of closeness to God outside of Eretz Yisrael, Hashem knew that only in the Land could he fully realize his destiny.

Avraham’s life in Chutz La’Aretz was not lacking in purpose. He was discovering Hashem, fighting against idolatry, teaching monotheism, and performing acts of kindness—just as many Jews in the diaspora today raise families, run businesses, study Torah, and lead communities. However, Hashem told Avraham, “All this is good, but you are doing it in the wrong place. In My special land, you will achieve so much more.” The message of Lech Lecha is that Hashem’s call to live in Eretz Yisrael is timeless.

For years, people delayed making aliyah due to material concerns. Today, with a comfortable life possible in Israel, the real barrier is often spiritual complacency. Many feel they have everything they need in Chutz La’Aretz: thriving communities, Torah learning, chesed organizations, kosher restaurants, and yeshivas. But Lech Lecha teaches us that while it’s possible to reach spiritual heights in Chutz La’Aretz, even greater achievements await in Hashem’s chosen land.

October 7th served as a wake-up call, prompting many Jews to consider aliyah more seriously than ever. It’s not an easy decision. Uprooting from the familiar, selling a home, leaving family and friends, and adjusting to a new life can be daunting. Yet the blessings Hashem promises to those who move to Eretz Yisrael, as outlined in this parsha, speak to our time as well: “I will make you into a great nation, I will bless you, I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.”

Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin comments in Oznayim LaTorah that this promise applies to Avraham’s descendants as well. Am Yisrael can only reach its true greatness—militarily, economically, and spiritually—when we are in our Land. The Shechinah (Divine Presence) does not dwell in the diaspora; we need to open our eyes to the miracles Hashem performs in Israel daily.

The Netziv adds that Avraham's example of acting immediately upon Hashem’s command to leave teaches us how to approach the mitzvah of aliyah. He didn’t wait for everything to be perfect; he set out immediately, leaving others to handle his affairs. For us, this can mean making small concrete steps: talking about aliyah, choosing careers suited for Israel, renting instead of buying in Chutz La’Aretz, or investing in property in Israel. Such steps lock us into the journey toward aliyah, making it easier to follow through when the time is right.

Even with all the challenges, R. Chayim of Volozhin teaches that the trials Avraham endured were meant to strengthen his descendants. His steadfast commitment to aliyah instilled within each Jew the ability to heed Hashem’s call to move to Eretz Yisrael. The recent events have sparked a renewed desire for aliyah, reminding us that every Jew possesses the inner strength and spiritual "DNA" to make this journey.

In these times, it is imperative for Jewish leaders—rabbis, teachers, and mentors in diaspora schools and shuls—to emphasize the centrality of Israel in Jewish life. As role models, they have a responsibility to inspire their communities to recognize that the future of Am Yisrael lies in Eretz Yisrael. This message needs to permeate our educational systems and our daily conversations, instilling within each of us the drive to fulfill Hashem’s timeless command: Lech Lecha!—go to the land He has shown us. I know  for a fact this  constant  message  works. In my shul, in Highland Park, Congregation Ohav Emeth, the Rabbi constantly talked  about the importance of  Eretz Yisrael and  Aliya. Over the years , this  shul  had  by far the highest percent of  Aliya from any shul in the community 

Let me end with a beautiful thought from the Sefas Emes, who raises a question about the closing words of the first blessing in our Shmoneh Esrei, "Magen Avraham" — "the Shield of Abraham." Why do we ask Hashem to protect Avraham? Avraham Avinu has been gone for thousands of years; why would he need protection? The Sefas Emes, in a classic insight of his Hasidus, explains that we are not asking Hashem to shield Avraham himself. Rather, we are asking Him to preserve within us that spark of Avraham Avinu — the essence that drove him to leave his homeland, come to Eretz Yisrael, and settle and conquer the Land of Israel.

We seek to retain the strength Avraham embodied, the unwavering commitment to avodas Hashem (serving God), enabling him to pass all his tests, from bris mila (circumcision) to the battles he entered , enduring hardship with an indestructible faith. Avraham’s life was built entirely on the will of Hashem, unshaken by the surrounding cultures and norms. This enduring spark, this legacy of resilience and faith, is the true blessing we ask for.

Ultimately, the question we must ask ourselves is: Are we listening to Hashem’s call?

Rebels in the Holy Land, by Sam Finkel (Book of the Month, Mar Cheshvan 5785)

When a determined band of Russian orthodox Jewish farmers arrived in what was then known as Palestine in 1882, they knew the world would be watching: In one of Baron Edmond de Rothschild’s most daring experiments, their task was to build a Jewish agricultural colony to serve as a model for future refugees fleeing persecution. But Rebels in the Holy Land is no typical story of pioneering; it is a tale of monumental idealism in the face of duplicity and cynical betrayal.

The farmers’ simple wish to observe the laws of shemitta in the Sabbatical year of 1889-1890, despite their patron’s opposition. This ambition thrust them into the swirling epicenter of worldwide controversy. Reviled by the Baron’s administrators, vilified in the press, ridiculed and nearly abandoned even by some of their religious countrymen, they stood firm. Their fight for what later became Mazkeret Batya sheds dazzling historical light on some of the very issues facing Israel today.

Sam Finkel’s book, which is now available in Hebrew as well as English, is illustrated with maps and vintage photography. We have a copy here at Beit Knesset Hanassi which you are welcome to read. Sam, by the way, is a local resident who can sometimes be found at Hanassi.

The Rainbow: an adventure in sight and sound

It's only a little more than seven minutes in length, but our musical member Max Stern's Rainbow for Seven Saxophones has quite an appeal to it. Starting with the occasional raindrop, this piece leads to a full-blown flood as the storm-tossed ark is ravaged by the element. Eventually the torrent ceases, the flood begins to subside and out comes the rainbow, God's sign for all mankind.

You can check this delightful little piece out on Max's YouTube channel here. 

The Great Make-Over: Noach 5785

The opening parshiyot of the Torah portray a rather dismal picture of the human race and of our world generally.  Everything noble and worthwhile seems to have spun away in a flood of vice, avarice, and murder. And this type of human behavior seems to have filtered down to the other forms of life on the planet as well.

The great flood described in this week’s parsha can therefore be seen, so to speak, as God’s make-over of the Creation. We know the feeling that comes upon us when, after working on a project for a period of time, we become convinced of the project’s failure and of the need to start over again from the beginning, discarding everything in which we had invested our energy.

But, as the parsha indicates, there is little to choose between the living world before the flood and the one that emerged in its wake. So the Lord adopts, as it were, a different tack. This is because, though God is disappointed by human behavior, He never irrevocably despairs of humans, individually or collectively. Now God will wait patiently until humans on their own, through their inner sense, seriously begin to search and find meaning and purpose in life.  This search will inexorably lead to the Creator and a moral code of behavior. Noach, as great a person as he was, was unable to transmit to his descendants the necessary sense of personal morality and that inner drive for self-improvement and righteousness which he himself possessed. Without that inner urge to search for the Creator, no outside revelation or cataclysmic event, no flood or war or Holocaust, can achieve an improved moral climate in human society.

The parsha records God’s commitment not to bring another flood upon humankind. Outside pressures and historic events, no matter how impressive and intense they may be, are not the ways to inspire and improve human behavior. A change of the human heart, a rethinking of life’s meaning and mission, a yearning for spirit and eternity—these are the proven methods for achieving a more just and noble society.

The lesson of this week’s parsha, and indeed the fundamental lesson of the Torah, is that the path to knowledge and service of God runs through one’s own inner feelings, attitudes, ideals and commitments. The task of Jewish parenting and education is to impart this basic truism of life to the next generation. And as the Torah itself testifies, this ability to do so was what set Avraham apart from Noach, and the Jewish people at their very origin from the nations of the world.

Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein 

Our Children's Service: a "thank-you" note

 This short note came into our inbox yesterday. It speaks for itself.

For over a year, our daughters have been enjoying the Children's Service at Beit Knesset HaNassi. The Rehavia neighborhood has many shuls and many children, but does not have many shul opportunities for these children.

We are happy that we found an environment where the girls can daven, discuss parsha and play games with their peers. Having shul be a Shabbat destination for children builds the familiarity and comfort that encourages them to continue attending shul as they grow and develop.

Thank you to Beit Knesset HaNassi for offering the service of the Children's Service. 

Efrat Benn and Nachum Lamm                

We receive all sorts of correspondence, with perhaps more emphasis on telling us what's wrong rather than thanking us for doing something right. So, thank you Efrat and Nachum, we really appreciate your words -- and a big thank-you to the Children's Service team --  Avigail Kaplan, Naama Rosenbaum, Nava Swidler, and Malka Rosenbaum -- for all their hard work and dedicated input.

Teva, Kav veTzeva: the art of Yitzhak Giladi

Some readers of this post may remember the distinguished Israeli artist Yitzhak Giladi, who was a member of Beit Knesset Hanassi before he moved to another locality. Well, Yitzhak has an exhibition of his art which is running throughout the month of November. Its title is Teva, Kav veTzeva ("Nature, Line and Color"). Details of this exhibition, which is being held in the Jerusalem Theater, can be found below. 

The Jewish World 1880-1914: a new lecture series

Beit Knesset Hanassi is delighted to announce details of the forthcoming lecture series by Rabbi Berel Wein: "The Jewish World 1880-1914".  This series covers the three and a half decades that culminated in the First World War, the conflict that many believed to be the war to end all wars. This period saw many shifts in the fortunes of the Jewish people and of the Jewish religion itself, as commitment to the Torah faced competition from the claims of nationalism and conflicting political philosophies.

Delivering the lectures is Rabbi Berel Wein, who has earned an outstanding reputation as a writer and lecturer on Jewish history. 

These lectures are open to the public as well as to our members. You can sign up in advance for the entire series, or you can pay at the door for each lecture you attend. 

We hope to see you there!

Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah: a Unique Celebration

This year Beit Knesset Hanassi held its first Ne'ilat HaChag, to round off the sequence of festive days that we have just celebrated together. Speaking at the Ne'ilat HaChag, our member Rabbi Paul Bloom treated us to the following thoughts:

The Yom Tov of Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah holds unique significance, blending distinct aspects of joy and spiritual connection. On one hand, Shemini Atzeret is linked to Sukkot but, on the other, it is an independent festival. Over time, the Gedolim (sages) decided to associate Simchat Torah with this holiday, adding an extra layer of meaning.

One of the most beautiful aspects of this celebration is the connection of rejoicing with the Torah. As the Vilna Gaon explains in his commentary on Shir HaShirim (The Song of Songs), the first three verses represent the three pilgrimage festivals (*Shalosh Regalim*), while the fourth verse represents the additional festival—Shemini Atzeret. The verse reads:

מׇשְׁכֵ֖נִי אַחֲרֶ֣יךָ נָּר֑וּצָה הֱבִיאַ֨נִי הַמֶּ֜לֶךְ חֲדָרָ֗יו נָגִ֤ילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָה֙ בָּ֔ךְ  

"Draw me after You, let us run; the King has brought me into His chambers; let us exult and rejoice in You."

This verse describes how the King (Hashem) brings us into His private chamber, allowing us to rejoice directly with Him. This expresses the unique joy of Shemini Atzeret, where the relationship between Hashem and the Jewish people is personal and intimate.

Rashi also emphasizes this distinction in his commentary on the verse in parshat Emor, stating that Shemini Atzeret follows Sukkot, a festival with universal dimensions, where offerings are brought for the nations of the world (Umot HaOlam). In the future, Zechariah tells us, the nations will come to Jerusalem during Sukkot to acknowledge Hashem. However, Shemini Atzeret is about the special, private connection between Hashem and Benei Yisrael.

Interestingly, the Torah Temimah points out that the word "בָּ֔ךְ" ("in You") from the verse in Shir HaShirim has the gematria (numerical value) of 22, which corresponds to the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet—the foundation of the Torah. Our love for Hashem is intimately connected with the Torah, and through these 22 letters, we find joy in our relationship with Him.

The Benei Yissaschar further deepens this concept, noting that Shemini Atzeret always falls on the 22nd day of Tishrei, marking 22 days since Rosh Hashanah. These 22 days are filled with teshuvah (repentance), forgiveness, prayer, and kindness, culminating in the joy of Sukkot and reaching their peak on Shemini Atzeret. This period signifies our journey with Hashem, and through the Torah, we solidify our connection with Him.

An even deeper connection emerges when we consider another set of 22 days: the Three Weeks, which begin on 17 Tammuz and end on Tisha B'Av. These days commemorate the destruction of the two Temples, but the first and most significant destruction was when Moshe shattered the luchot (tablets). Though the tablets were broken, the letters—the divine essence of the Torah—were not lost. They soared, waiting for a new place to reside.

During the Three Weeks, we mourn the loss of this connection, but during the 22 days from Rosh Hashanah to Shemini Atzeret, we work to restore it. The phrase "כָּתְבֵנוּ בְּסֵפֶר הַחַיִּים" ("inscribe us in the Book of Life") reminds us of this restoration. The Torah, described as Etz Chaim (a tree of life), reconnects us with Hashem. By the end of this journey, we rejoice in the ultimate restoration of our bond through the Torah on Shemini Atzeret.

This parallel between the two sets of 22 days, the Three Weeks of mourning and the 22 days of Tishrei, illustrates the cyclical nature of loss and restoration. The culmination comes with Shemini Atzeret, where we experience the joy of holding the Torah, dancing with it, and feeling the profound connection it provides.

Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah represent the pinnacle of our relationship with Hashem. Through the Torah, we deepen our understanding, find infinite joy, and restore what was lost. Let this Yom Tov be a time of reinstating the 22 letters of the Torah into our hearts and minds, renewing our bond with Hashem and experiencing the special joy that comes with it.

Farewell, Sukkah!

An innovation at Beit Knesset Hanassi this Sukkot was Rabbi Kenigsberg's introduction of a short, sweet "Farewell to the Sukkah". Before taking our leave of the shul Sukkah, we had a bite to eat, sang some songs and said a couple of short divrei Torah. The following was said over by Jeremy Phillips:

If you carefully read our davening schedule, you will have seen an item that reads “Farewell to the Sukkah 5.15 pm”. Opposite this item, on the Ivrit side of the timetable, this event is listed as “Shalom leSukkah”. But even to say anything at all might seem a bit irregular to those of us who are 21st century rationalists. For one thing, even the most beautiful of Sukkot is an inanimate object: you can say hello or goodbye to it if you like, though it won’t hear you. You can tell it whatever you like but you won’t get a response. You may as well be talking to a brick wall (parenthetically, we learn from the very first daf of masechet Sukkah that there’s no problem with a Sukkah having brick walls, so long as it does not exceed 20 amot in height).

Another strange thing about saying goodbye to the Sukkah is the unique nature of this custom. After all, we don’t say goodbye to the shofar when we’re finished with blowing it; we don’t say goodbye to the arba minim either. Nor, on Pesach, do we bid farewell to the matzah—though to be honest I think the parting of the ways between man and matzah is often greeted with more relief than grief.

Well, actually, there is no problem because, in point of fact, we don’t really say goodbye to it at all. Both the Rinat Yisrael and the ArtScroll machzorim describe this little ceremony in Hebrew not as a farewell but as a Yetziah, an exit. And the function of the text of the yehi ratzon which we recite is not to say goodbye to the Sukkah, but to remind God that we have notched up some serious brownie points for performing the mitzvah of living in the Sukkah and to ask that these self-same brownie points be carried forward into the year we only recently commenced.

Some machzorim follow the yehi ratzon with a kabbalistic paragraph, ribona de’alma, which likewise focuses not on the past week but on the year that lies ahead. In it we ask God to let the angels that we have created during the Chag through our performance of the mitzvot of Sukkah and the arba minim accompany us on our return to normal life. We then ask God if He would be so kind as to let the aforesaid angels help protect us from sin and from sha’ot hamitragshot – malevolent moments – that are likely to occur, and not to punish us for our misdemeanours before we’ve had a chance to repent for them ourselves.

So, all on all, this alleged farewell to the Sukkah is really a forward-facing strategy for dealing with our return to what we like to call our normality.

Having said all this, it seems to me that saying goodbye to the Sukkah is a good thing to do, since it is a way of showing respect to the departing Chag. In light of this, I’d like to make reference to a Mishnah from Avot:

רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר הַמּוּדָעִי אוֹמֵר: הַמְחַלֵּל אֶת הַקֳּדָשִׁים, וְהַמְבַזֶּה אֶת הַמּוֹעֲדוֹת, וְהַמַּלְבִּין פְּנֵי חֲבֵרוֹ בָּרַבִּים, וְהַמֵּפֵר בְּרִיתוֹ שֶׁל אַבְרָהָם אָבִֽינוּ, וְהַמְגַלֶּה פָנִים בַּתּוֹרָה שֶׁלֹּא כַהֲלָכָה, אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁיֵּשׁ בְּיָדוֹ תּוֹרָה וּמַעֲשִׂים טוֹבִים, אֵין לוֹ חֵֽלֶק לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא

Rabbi Elazar HaModa’i used to say: One who profanes the kadashim ("holy things"), degrades the Festivals, humiliates his friend in public, nullifies the covenant of our father Abraham, or who interprets the Torah contrary to its true intent---although he may possess Torah knowledge and good deeds, he has no share in the World to Come.

What does ‘hamevazeh et hamo’adot’ really mean? How does one cheapen or degrade a festival? According to many commentaries, following in the footsteps of the Bartenura, this means being insufficiently respectful to Chol HaMoed. How do we know this? One of our own local commentators—Rabbi Menachem Mordechai Frankel-Teomim (who lived down the road at no.2, rechov HaShla)-- explains that, if the word mo’adim means the yamim tovim themselves, the feminine form of the word—mo’adot—refers to a gentler sort of mo’ed, which is Chol HaMoed.

For us, not just sitting down in the Sukkah for the occasional snack but, ideally, living in it full-time, is the main mitzvah of Chol HaMoed, a mitzvah we can even fulfil when we are fast asleep. This being so, it is surely appropriate to acknowledge its importance by leaving it in an appropriately respectful manner. More than that, we should be very careful not to denigrate it. As the Midrash Shmuel points out, any form of disrespect to Chol HaMoed has potentially disastrous consequences: if you don’t respect its integrity in this world, you don’t deserve to be respected in Olam HaBo, the world to come.