DRASH – SUKKOT
Rabbi Adi Cohen
Senior Rabbi, Temple Shalom, Gold Coast
The transition from Yom Kippur to Sukkot marks a powerful mind shift. We turn our private redemption into a shared celebration.
On Yom Kippur, we strip away our physical needs. We fast, refrain from luxury, and wear white, symbolising both our mortality and our aspiration for pure, undisturbed introspection. Inside the sanctuary, wrapped in sacred isolation, we ask two crucial questions: Who am I when everything else is stripped away? Where have I fallen short?
Judaism refuses to let us dwell indefinitely in spiritual retreat. As soon as Yom Kippur concludes, following the Havdalah, we pick up hammers and lumber, stepping out of our solid homes and synagogues into the fragile, temporary hut of the Sukkah. This physical movement, from the interior sanctuary of Yom Kippur to the open-walled Sukkah, teaches us that true spiritual reflection is not complete until it is brought out into the world.
The defining element of the Sukkah is its roof, the S’chach. Constructed from natural materials, it must provide shade, yet remain open enough to see the stars through the gaps. The Talmud discuss this structural vulnerability: “A Sukkah whose shade is greater than its sunlight is valid… but one must be able to see the larger stars through the roof.” (Talmud, Sukkah 22a). In contrast to the stone walls of our homes, the Sukkah offers no structural security against storm, wind or society.
On Yom Kippur, we seek shelter under the shadow of the Divine. On Sukkot, we realise that a Divine shelter is not a fortress that hides us from the world, but the courage to live in an imperfect, unpredictable environment with our arms wide open.
In her book “Daring Greatly”, Dr. Brene Brown notes that true courage requires us to drop our defences: “Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage… To let ourselves be seen, deeply seen, even when there are no guarantees.”
During Yom Kippur, we experience vulnerability internally, acknowledging our mistakes and our human limitations before God. Sukkot challenges us to turn that vulnerability outward. To sit inside it is to declare that we are willing to be exposed, both to nature and to our neighbours.
Spiritual growth that stays inside the synagogue is incomplete. The inner work of Yom Kippur gives us the clarity to see where we are needed, the outer experience of Sukkot gives us the space to act. Whether by supporting local housing initiatives, shelters, or environmental advocacy groups, or by welcoming others, especially those outside your usual social circle, into our life and conversations.
By moving from the personal introspection of Yom Kippur to a full engagement with the world on Sukkot, we turn our private redemption into a shared celebration.
Wishing you all a meaningful and happy Sukkot !
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