Many have asked me how we should celebrate the holidays this year, particularly Sukkot, the Festival of our Rejoicing, and Simchat Torah. How can we achieve joy when the situation is so difficult and complex?
The sadness, grief, pain, anger, and disappointment are still fresh. Bereaved families are still grieving, the wounded are still suffering, families are still not back in their homes, and captives remain in captivity. Is it appropriate for us to rejoice?
In my opinion, the answer is yes – we should rejoice, but the nature of the rejoicing will be slightly different.
To understand the source of joy and internalize the fact that this year’s joy will be different, I would like to share some ideas about the essence and content of joy, hoping that this will help us celebrate the holiday in an appropriate way.
First, the joy mentioned in the Torah is almost always “before God,” such as in Devarim 12:18: “And you shall rejoice before the Lord your God in all the endeavors of your hand.”
What does it mean to rejoice before God? It means that we live with the knowledge that we are always in the presence of God. He knows and oversees our lives, even if we feel that He does not intervene, and even if we feel “disappointed” by His behavior.
The very knowledge that God is with us provides a sense of comfort as a mother comforts her son,” even if this comfort does not heal the wound or pain, the injured child feels comforted.
We are hurt and wounded, but part of the joy is the inner feeling that God is with us and that, at the right time, He will carry us as a nurse carries a suckling child.
Second, despite what has happened and all the pain, this is not a Holocaust. We are blessed, thank God, with an army and a state, and a wonderful nation. Part of the joy is the gratitude for what we have.
If we look at Jewish history before the establishment of the state, we immediately recall that Jews were utterly helpless. For instance, the Kishinev pogrom in 1903 is a classic case in point.
Dozens of Jews were murdered, hundreds were injured, women were raped, and homes and shops were looted.
When the Jews tried to defend themselves, they were arrested by the local police. Bialik, in his famous poem In the City of Slaughter, described the horrors that occurred and at the same time criticized the inability or unwillingness to defend and protect Jewish blood.
October 7 was a terrible day that will be remembered forever, but we must recall that on that very day, the Jewish people began to fight back, and a day later, the war shifted in the other direction.
It is true that the military response was too late for many people, but there is still room for joy in the form of gratitude to God and to the wonderful young generation raised in a state founded for the Jewish people.
This is a young generation that did not hesitate for an instant to risk themselves for others, a generation that internalized the call of “Hinneni, Here I am.”
THIRD, JOY includes the intense desire not to despair in the face of adversity. Hardship and suffering, naturally diminish a person’s ability to see beyond the difficulty and challenge, and to see that life could be different if one chooses to make it so.
Joy allows us to rise from depression and gives us the ability to lift our heads and not define ourselves and our situation as dark and depressed.
A joy reflecting resilience
This is a joy that shows psychological resilience, which does not allow our enemies to get what they want.
Especially in a year like this, we should try to be joyful and rejoice to shake off the sadness. This year’s joy is also joy for those who cannot rejoice – the murdered, the injured, and the captives.
We are their messengers, and we must understand the meaning of joy this year more than ever.
Fourth, when the Torah commands “you shall rejoice in your festival,” it is not a command limited to times of goodness and blessing. The divine command to be joyful also includes days when there is neither desire nor ability to rejoice – days when the Jewish people suffered in concentration camps, in wars, and in pogroms.
The holiday of Sukkot in 1973, a few days after the beginning of the Yom Kippur War, raised the same question, but even then, people tried to celebrate.
This is joy mixed with sadness; it is true joy because we all understand that there is no perfect joy – there is always a certain deficiency. Breaking the glass under the wedding canopy is not only to remember the destruction of Jerusalem but to emphasize that this is truly the reality of life – a blend of good and bad, joy and sadness. This is real life.
Fifth, we must learn from the past as it states: “ask your father, and he will tell you” (Devarim 32:7). If the Jewish people refrained from joy every time they experienced a pogrom, the Jewish year would look like Tisha B’Av every day.
We need to look to Holocaust survivors who, after years of persecution and oppression emerged from the death camps where their world had collapsed, but taught us to build life, family, and state. With their own hands, they rebuilt themselves and even managed to find joy.
Finally, the extent of joy is also important. Rambam, in the Laws of Yom Tov, Chapter 6, Halacha 18, rules regarding the joy of a festival:
“And when one eats and drinks, one is obligated to feed the convert, the orphan, the widow, and other unfortunate poor, but whoever locks the doors of his courtyard and eats and drinks with his children and wife without feeding and giving drink to the poor and the distressed – this is not the joy of a mitzvah but the joy of his belly.”
True joy is giving to others. This year we need to rejoice by accepting the responsibility to give to others. Part of giving is also sensitivity to the other, respect for the other, which creates different dialogue and behavior.
This year, we will rejoice, but we will do so in a responsible and sensitive manner, with an understanding and internalization of the essence of joy connected to gratitude to God and to the amazing generation we have raised in our wonderful country – joy for what we have, joy in giving to others, and joy in the Jewish hope that can never be taken away from us.
The writer is rabbi of Kehilat Nitzanim synagogue in Jerusalem.