IT’S TIME TO RENEW OUR CITIZENSHIP!
The Lew family has recently moved to Peachtree City. This is not just a move to a new city, but also to a new county. As such, it soon came time to change various legal documents, such as my driver’s license.
It should not be too complicated, I thought. This was not going to be a new license or a new test. It was going to be a simple change of address.
And so, there I was the other day at the license office of Fayette County, Georgia. I was given some forms to fill out, and was subsequently called up to the desk. I was asked to take a new picture, and my smiling face appears on my new license. All this is routine.
What accompanied my experience, though, was an attitude of rudeness I was compelled to endure at each of the few stages of this experience. Instead of people talking, they were “barking.” Instead of giving instructions, they were yelling. Instead of smiling and being welcoming, they were aloof, seemed agitated, and looked smug each time they utilized their “power” of being in a government office. Most of them seemed annoyed that people were daring to come through the doors to disturb their “busy” days…
All this is, unfortunately, also routine in many places.
Enter into a typical government office, and it is unusually messy. Almost always, the walls are in serious need of a paint job. The workers there are normally impolite and sometimes offensive. One is left with the feeling that the quicker one can get out of there, the better – only to continue to be forced to sit around all day waiting to be called… Should one accomplish what one set out to do, it still usually remains a most unpleasant experience.
If the workers and their managers, as well as the government overseers, would only realize that the people and the premises represent the seat of the government, and that the way people are treated in such locations could help a person respect this institution or not, they would surely take their business more seriously and more sensitively. Instead of people feeling their government’s people do not care, and therefore they themselves should also not care, they would, I presume, care more about their government.
As I was driving away, lost somewhat in thought about the treatment back at the government building, a different thought came to me: To be a citizen somewhere should be an honor. As such, going through some difficulty and or dishonor should be a small price to pay for the prize, for the privilege and pride, of being a subject in that county, city, state, or country.
Becoming a citizen of this country, the United States, is no simple task. Much time, effort and finances are typically invested before a citizen of a foreign country will become one of this country.
And when the day comes, it is almost like a celebration. Mrs. Lew, who recently became a fully-fledged citizen of the United States, went through all the gyrations. She was then required to spend a half a day, together with many others, participating in a solemn swearing-in ceremony and then pledging allegiance to the flag. It was almost a festive atmosphere, which left all the participants with a feeling of elation and gratitude.
It takes lots to be a citizen, and those in charge ensure that those who wish to convert and become an American are made well aware of this badge of distinction.
There is one Jewish holiday in which the Jewish people are called “citizens,” or “natives.” This is the holiday of Sukkos, beginning this Sunday evening, and extending till the following Sunday evening. When introducing the requirement to dwell in the Sukkah, the Torah states: “For a seven-day period you should live in “booths” (Sukkos). Every “Ezrach” (native citizen) among the Jewish people should live in booths (Vayikra (Leviticus) 23:42.)
To be sure, the Torah utilizes this description for refraining from leaven on Passover, and for participating in the afflictions of Yom Kippur. In those cases, though, this term is used as well as other terms. In the case of the Sukkah, however, “citizen” is the only term used when the Torah provides the instruction of dwelling in the Sukkah during this holiday.
It is actually ironic that the Torah chooses to use the term “citizen” in regard to this festival. The festival of Sukkos is the one time in the year that the Jewish people are instructed to leave their homes and dwell in sukkos, in booth-like structures. It is there that all meals are eaten, and one’s whole focus is there. A booth in which to live is more for an unfortunate homeless person, rather than a “citizen.”
There must therefore be a specific connection between the holiday of Sukkos and the “citizenship.” One can, indeed, learn from the correlation between this festival and being a “citizen” – in what the Torah and Judaism’s definition is of a “citizen.”
And it is not about possessions and passports of honor. It is not about buildings and structures. It is about two main focal points: G-d and the Jewish people.
When the Torah introduces the directive of the Sukkah, it is put this way: “In order that your (ensuing) generations should know that I caused the children of Israel to live in booths when I took them out of the land of Egypt.” (Lev. 23:43.) Those booths refer to the “clouds of glory” which surrounded the Jewish people all the way through their forty-year journey in the desert, and provided them coverage and protection.
The purpose of dwelling in the Sukkah for a week is to act as a reminder of the faith everyone ought to place in the Almighty. Just as He provided shelter and protection in those days, so too, He continues to provide for the entire world.
Being a Jewish “citizen” requires a person to have faith in the Almighty – in His constant providing, and to follow in the manner He has proscribed in His Torah for all human beings to behave.
And there is a second, obvious element to the Sukkah: Unity. A Sukkah comes with considerable rules and regulations: It cannot be too high or too low. Its roof must be covered with untreated vegetation. Its location must be outdoors, with an unobstructed clearing all the way up to the sky.
There are no restrictions or rules about how wide and long the Sukkah could be. If one could conceivably build a Sukkah big enough to stretch around the world, this would be a valid Sukkah.
In the words of the Talmud (Sukkah 27,b): A Sukkah could be made in a manner that every single Jewish person could fit inside that one Sukkah.
In other words, a Sukkah is a structure that has the potential of uniting the entire Jewish people in one structure and under the same roof.
A “Jewish citizen,” as taught specifically by the Sukkah, is one who maintains faith in the Almighty and seeks to be unified with everyone else.
A traveler once paid a visit to the “Maggid of Mezeritch,” the second Chassidic master. The Rebbe sat at his desk, which was basically a board standing on some wooden stumps; the furnishings of the room were threadbare. The Rebbe invited the guest to sit down on the rickety chair, which seemed to groan as the man sat.
“Forgive me, please,” said the traveler, “for asking a personal question: Why isn’t there any decent furniture in this room? You are so famous and celebrated. People come to see you, seek your advice and blessing from all over the world. Where is your furniture?”
The Rabbi looked at the guest and said, Let me respond with a question of my own. Where is your own furniture?”
“Rabbi,” said the guest, “my furniture is back home, of course. In my home, in my mansion, I have the best furniture money can buy. But when I travel, I do not take my furniture with me. I am only passing through this place.”
“Me too,” said the Rabbi. “I am also only a traveler. I too am only passing through this world. In the few years I will spend here, I have no need for fine furniture.”
A proud Jewish citizen is content in the Sukkah, for this reminds him or her about the Almighty and His protection. And a proud Jewish citizen is content to sit in the same Sukkah as everyone else.
The word for citizen in Hebrew is, as mentioned, “Ezrach.” This word can also be translated as “shining.” A “citizen” in the view of the Torah is one that does, indeed, shine.
A proud American citizen would surely be even prouder if those who represent the government would treat their fellow citizens with honor and dignity. While that may not happen soon, this coming Sunday night, the festival of Sukkos will happen. It is time to head out to the Sukkah, and become a proud Jewish citizen.
SUMMARY: The Sukkah reminds the Jewish person of the Almighty’s protection and shelter and of Jewish unity. This makes for a proud Jewish citizen.