Putting Sarah in Danger - an Exploration

Parshat Lekh Lekha

by Rabbi Avi Billet

After arriving in Canaan, Avraham is faced with a test of famine. On his own, absent instruction from God, he chooses to go to Egypt to find food, a move which in many ways sets the precedent for how his descendants would go down to Egypt (on account of a famine) and how they would leave (with wealth given to them by the Egyptians). 

 One question that is addressed by many commentators is “How does Avraham justify his taking Sarai with him? He is putting her in mortal danger!” 

Noting that one is not supposed to rely on miracles (a theme many touch upon), Netziv writes that Avraham was relying on Divine promises. He had been told “Those who curse you I will curse,” which should serve as a protection from harm, but he only realized close to Egypt that that might only refer to possible enemies living in Canaan. And so while he hoped that God would protect Sarah, their proximity to Egypt made it too late for him to leave her or bring her back to Canaan. The Zohar (at the end of Parshat Tazria) notes that Avraham saw an angel accompanying him to protect them, and so when Avraham asks her to say “you are my sister” למען ייטב לי בעבורך (in order that he should be good to me on your account), he was referring to that angel, not his hopes for how “Egypt” might treat him. Avraham never had a fear in Canaan, because he was allied with Aner, Eshkol, and Mamre - people he could see - who provided protection from any of these kinds of shenanigans. 

A direct answer to the question is that Avraham didn’t realize how bad it was in Egypt until he got much closer to his destination. (Radak) Had he known how bad it was, he would have stuck it out through the famine in Canaan (Radak). As they did go to Egypt, however, we might imagine his meeting people leaving Egypt who might have reported to him about their own experience. Or perhaps as he entered Egypt, he saw Egyptians looking at them in a way he had never experienced before. (Or HaChaim) Only at this point does he perceive that the people in Egypt are disgusting, licentious, and suspect to commit murder. (Malbim) Some suggest that Sarah’s beauty was noted by him in comparison to those he encountered as he got closer to Egypt (Or HaChaim, Ibn Ezra and others), because in Canaan, her beauty did not stand out, but in the climate closer to Egypt, things were clearly very different. Additionally, since Egypt is referred to as ערות הארץ (a term we later hear Yosef accusing his brothers of coming to check out – which could refer to the “vulnerability of the land” but literally means “the promiscuity of the land”), Avraham understood that Egypt is a very different place than Canaan, in terms of how they treat women. (Panim Yafos) 

Ramban rejects the notion that Canaanites were more heavily invested in idolatry and more guarded against sins of immorality – and therefore a specifically safer place for Sarah. More likely, he offers, Avraham and Sarai’s fear of Egypt came because they were going to the capital, where the king would have ordered his henchmen to bring every beautiful woman to his home, after having killed her husband on some false pretense. [Netziv's position - noted above - takes issue with Ramban] 

This approach, however, does not answer for how they could have gone to Egypt in the first place. Ramban suggests Avraham innocently thought that the rouse of saying they are siblings would get the Egyptians to be nice to him and allow him (them) to survive through the duration of the famine, and with God’s help (ויבא להם ריוח והצלה מאת האלהים לשוב) they would thrive… or they’d eventually escape from Egypt.

 Ramban even notes the lack of evidence that Sarah agreed to the rouse, pointing out that as soon as the Egyptians saw her they took her without even asking if she’s a wife or a sister. She never said anything – it was Avraham who told everyone of their sibling status. This is why Pharaoh later blames Avraham but says nothing about Sarah, who - as a woman in that culture - was expected to say nothing, and certainly not to contradict the man in her life. 

 Before they arrive in Egypt, Avraham mentions his concern that Egyptians would kill him in order to take away her “married” status. Many commentators ask, “As Noachides, aren’t the Egyptians equally commanded not to murder, as they are not to commit sexual sins such as adultery?” (Da’as Zekenim (in the name of Rabbi Yosef Kara), Radak, and many more) The standard answer is that they’d likely look at it as a numbers game in terms of Noachide rule violations. If the king (many times) or any number of Egyptians (however many times) might have their way with a married woman, that would be a sin every time. Not to mention that Avraham would feasibly be alive to complain to the king (if it’s just regular Egyptians involved), which would exacerbate their collective sins. But if her husband is murdered, the murder is a one-time sin that would allow for all the acts to follow to not be viewed as adultery. (Radak 12:12, Chizkuni, R Chaim Paltiel, Riv’a) 

 Rabbi Matatya Mablon (quoted by Riv’a) suggested Avraham was also more concerned that the people didn’t learn the lesson from the flood because the sin of murder hadn’t been prosecuted by God, whereas the sin of immorality had been. So he felt they’d be more lax about committing murder to undo her status of being a wife, making her unattached and available to all. [Alshikh questions this, wondering why Avraham and Sarah couldn’t just be up front, and rely upon the idea that Noachides are warned against licentiousness AND against murder, so why assume they’d resort to murder? Further, the Egyptians they ultimately encountered, spoke of her to the king and made no effort to find out anything about her, suggesting his concerns were misplaced.] 

Alshikh quotes a passage in Vayikra Rabba (32:5) that part of the purpose of Avraham and Sarah going down to Egypt was to set a precedent for how their descendants would exist in Egypt hundreds of years later. Just as Avraham and Sarah did not fall prey to being intimate with any Egyptians, the Bnei Yisrael later on would remain a separate race from the Egyptians, with no intermarriage or similar relations. This suggests a reason for why Sarah needed to come down to Egypt, irrespective of whether she’d be taken by Pharaoh… perhaps with their collective prophetic abilities, we might add, they knew it would somehow work out. 

Alshikh continues suggesting that when Avraham said וחיתה נפשי בגללך – that my soul will live in your merit – he was saying that if you (Sarah) sacrifice yourself to possibly be taken, that merit alone will provide the guarantee that God will not allow them to harm you in any way. 

Panim Yafos has an entirely different interpretation of Avraham’s thought process. 

Avraham thought that if Sarah was willing to give up her life – even though she would not be obligated to (as the Rabbis note in the Talmud Sanhedrin 74b that if she is ‘uninvolved’ in whatever is done to her (קרקע עולם), she is blameless) – the Egyptians would have the following thought: ‘if she were unattached, she would not have to give up her life, as the deed would not be forbidden.’ Thus they would come to the conclusion that she is married. And they’d then kill him… knowing that once she is indeed unattached, she wouldn’t sacrifice her life because she wouldn’t need to under any circumstance. 

 However, Avraham would not be allowed to ask her to give up her life, because she knows she is his wife, and her giving herself up would cause them to turn around and kill him instead because it is much more worth it for them to keep her alive no matter what, even if she will never agree to be with any of them. They have much less problem killing a man than they have killing a woman , אפ"ה אין דרכם להרגה, מש"ה אין לה סכנת מות – Avraham’s argument being ‘they won’t kill you, no matter what you say, agree to do, or don’t agree to do.’ Were they to choose to kill him, there’d be no way he could save himself, and certainly no way he could advocate on her behalf and have her released in any manner. 

 Expanding this a little further, the Beis HaLevi assumes that saying they are siblings gives her an “out,” because as a single woman, she can decide whether she wants to be married to anyone. In his wildest dreams, Avraham never imagined that the king himself (Pharaoh) would take her. Everyman Egyptian would at least follow the common law – you can’t force a woman to do something she doesn’t want to do. But while the king could force her, there was “no way” she would find herself in the king’s presence under any circumstance. 

 One could argue that Avraham did not have a choice as to whether to bring her to Egypt. He had no idea what the society was like, and therefore only learned very close to Egypt what might happen. 

Much of this is likely connected to the fact of Mitzrayim being a direct descendant of Cham (son of Noach) who proved through his having a child on the Ark and the way he treated his drunk father that certain kinds of sins were to be his descendants’ specialty, and that his legacy was ultimately at least one reason why Avraham would later instruct that his servant find a wife for Yitzchak from “the old country” – the land of Semites. 

 There are some cultures that honor and respect women, who only tolerate consensual acts – when both the man and woman wish to be with one another – and who otherwise leave people alone to conduct their own business and pursue their own “life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.” And there are others who do not respect women, who engage in horrific acts of sexual violence, and who don’t respect lives of those who are not one hundred percent on board with their own depravity. 

As descendants of Avraham we are blessed to be in the former category, and we appreciate those who are on board with those values. 

 As for those who are on the other side, those who, for example, would massacre Jews (and Christians in the Middle East and Africa) because their culture allows for it… their contribution to humanity is in the negative. The world would do well to see what Avraham saw. And may God provide the assist that helps us defeat those who act like or even worse than the Egyptians that Avraham encountered.

Defining Mabul (and Bavel) – What Works for Humanity and What Does Not

Parshat Noach 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

You may have heard this one: What type of cake was served on Noah’s Ark? Mabul cake (Ice cream? Mabul ice cream… What kid’s game? Mabuls, etc….) 

The Torah’s word for the flood is מבול (Mabul), hence the play on words for those who drop their “r”s when saying words like “marble” and “Canarsie” and “mother, father, sister, brother, daughter.” 

Where does the word מבול come from – what is it’s “root” (שרש) that gives it its format? As it turns out, the answer is not so simple. 

 In his Haksav V’hakabbalah, Rabbi Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenberg lays out the following, which will be summarized afterwards with bullet points.

 הכתב והקבלה בראשית פרק ו 

(יז) את המבול מים. לרד"ק שרשו נבל מן ונבלי שמים וענינו מטר השמים, ולד"א הוא מענין בלילה וערוב כי מדרך המים שיעשו זה, ולרש"י הוא מלשון בליי' והשחת' גם מלשון הובלה והולכה, וזה אמת ברור כי עיקר יסודו בל ונתאחדו בו הוראות הענינים האלה כולם, וממנו נתהוה שרש יבל ושרש בלה גם נבל ובלל. ובעבור שמתיבת מבול אין הכרע אם שיהיה המטר של מים או של אש של ד"א וכבר אמרו רבותינו מבול של מים מבול של אש, לכן ביאר הכתוב ואמר מים כלומר מבול מים ויחסר הנסמך, וכן האהלה שרה אמו שענינו האהלה אהל שרה אמו (רוו"ה), והמתרגמו זרם שטף (זינדפלוטה) אינו לפי העברי (רל"ש). 

 • The root is נבל, as in the verse in the book of Iyov (38:37):מִֽי־יְסַפֵּ֣ר שְׁחָקִ֣ים בְּחָכְמָ֑ה וְנִבְלֵ֥י שָׁ֝מַ֗יִם מִ֣י יַשְׁכִּֽיב: (see below for translation) – Radak emphasizes that this refers to “rain,” but also refers to something which falls – which in rain’s case, falls from the heavens (as per Yeshayahu 1:30 - כִּ֣י תִֽהְי֔וּ כְּאֵלָ֖ה נֹבֶ֣לֶת עָלֶ֑הָ וּֽכְגַנָּ֔ה אֲשֶׁר־מַ֖יִם אֵ֥ין לָֽהּ: - see also below for translation)

 • The word comes from בלילה, which means a muddle or mixture, which is what flooding water does

 • The word comes from בלייה, which means destruction, related to הובלה והולכה

 • Words which come from it are יבל, and בלה, and נבל, and בלל 

He also notes that the Rabbis taught that there could be a Mabul of fire and a Mabul of water, which is why God tells Noach specifically that there will be a מבול מים – a Mabul of water. 

 The Iyov passage is translated in different ways by different translators. Using contemporary translations we find:

 • Koren – “who tilts the pitchers of heaven?”

 • Artscroll – “who pours from the flagons of heaven?”

 • Da’at Sofrim (translated by Rabbi Yehoshua Starrett) – “who can lay down the wineskins of the heavens?”

 • Chabad.org – “who brings down the bottles of heaven?” 

The Yeshayahu passage is translated:

 • Koren – “For you will be like an oak with withered leaves”

 • Artscroll – “For you will be like an elm with withered leaves”

 • Chabad.org – “For you shall be like an elm whose leaves are wilting” 

These translations are not very helpful – in the case of the verse from Iyov, all point to something which holds liquid, and from which the liquid could be poured (a metaphor for the heavens which can pour rain). In the case of the word which means to “fall,” only the chabad.org translation (of those shared above) references the concept of falling through the word wilting (withered implies more of a drying up – which would not work at all for a flood!) 

In his typical fashion, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch also explores the root of this word, giving similar explanations, though without giving any Biblical support. Firstly, he explains the concept of “withering” from a different vantage point, noting how it works in the scheme of what we are exploring

 “מבול stems from נבל which implies a “withering away” of vital energies in organic, animal, or moral life. Thus נבל (pronounced navol), the withering of leaves; the dwindling of strength, fatigue; נבל (pronounced navall) and נבלה (pronounced n’vallah), moral degradation; and finally נבלה (pronounced neveilah), a body deprived of it soul, a corpse. נבל is a weaker form of נפל; that is to say, a gradual withering and dying of vegetable or animal forces, of moral or mental forces. מבול, then, denotes deprivation of life. 

 The use of the term מבול to describe the catastrophe implies the mildest possible dimensions for the catastrophe. For, in any case, all life on earth is destined to become נבול. None of the creatures doomed to perish in the flood would have lived forever. What was decreed upon them was only that they would wither and die before their time.”

מבול denotes deprivation of life. An excellent working definition. 

Hirsch goes on to describe how God emphasized that בשר (flesh), will be destroyed, but not the רוח, the spirit of every creature. 

 It is interesting that later in the Parsha, the Tower of Bavel (in chapter 11) seems to be named on account of two references to God’s mixing up their languages:

 (ז) הָ֚בָה נֵֽרְדָ֔ה וְנָבְלָ֥ה שָׁ֥ם שְׂפָתָֽם אֲשֶׁר֙ לֹ֣א יִשְׁמְע֔וּ אִ֖ישׁ שְׂפַ֥ת רֵעֵֽהוּ:

 (ט) עַל־כֵּ֞ן קָרָ֤א שְׁמָהּ֙ בָּבֶ֔ל כִּי־שָׁ֛ם בָּלַ֥ל יְקֹוָ֖ק שְׂפַ֣ת כָּל־הָאָ֑רֶץ וּמִשָּׁם֙ הֱפִיצָ֣ם יְקֹוָ֔ק עַל־פְּנֵ֖י כָּל־הָאָֽרֶץ: 

Rav Hirsch rejects that the words here mean “confuse” and suggests God’s intent was to cause their language (which had been one – see 11:1) – in the נבלה use – to “wither away” or “to have become withered.” The word בלל, he feels, comes from the context of mixing in a foreign element, “so that in every particle of the old there will be some of the new.” This causes people to be unable to understand one another – a concept which Hirsch goes on to explain for several pages. 

 This explanation is consistent with the first, suggesting that God’s intent was never to confuse or to confound, but to introduce an ingredient that intentionally causes man’s progress or unity to wither and fall, so that a new order could arise from the proverbial ashes. 

 It is not the case that everything needs to be broken down in order to rebuild from the bottom. There are some politicians in the United States who, instead of fixing what is broken (or what they have broken) suggest to radically transform things. Others look to take the good elements of what exists, eradicate waste in spending and in unnecessary projects, balance budgets, unlock unnecessary regulation, and allow the spirit of human creativity to thrive. 

But, as we learn from the flood, there are some things which are very very broken and are unable to be fixed. This includes the radicalized mindset, the terrorist mindset, the lack of human dignity of those with whom we have ideological differences who choose violence over reason. God will not bring a flood, or destroy those who choose not to participate with the rest of humanity in bringing goodness and affirmation of life. It is up to human beings to recognize what is truly evil, and what civilizations need to wither away, following the path of the dodo bird and the generation of the flood, so humanity has a chance of being worthy of this earth once again.

The Blame Game

Parshat Bereshit 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

No matter how one views the term “original sin,” it is quite clear that the first sin the Torah depicts is the violation of the only command given to Man. “Eat of every tree. But of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil you shall not eat, for on the day that you eat from you shall become mortal.” (2:16-17) 

Early in chapter 3, through the enticement of the Nachash (the Garden of Eden serpent, who can walk and talk), the woman eats from the tree, and then gives of its fruit to her husband, in clear violation of that one command. 

When God rhetorically asks about the deed, “Have you eaten from the tree regarding which I had commanded you not to eat from?” the answer should have been Yes, because after all, God already knows the answer. But instead, the man says “The woman that You gave me… she gave me the fruit and I ate it.” And when God turns to the woman, her response is, “The snake enticed me and I ate.” God doesn’t ask the snake for his excuse, but He goes and issues His judgment to the snake first, then to the woman, then to the man. 

 In other words, those who can point their finger to a person (or a snake) go ahead and do so, instead of looking in the mirror and taking ownership of their own actions. It's a Blame Game 101.

Haazinu is the Connection Between Yom Kippur and Sukkos

 Parshat Haazinu

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Parshat Haazinu looks both to the past in Moshe’s depiction of events and to the future that Moshe foresaw, for events which would unfold both during the conquering and settling of the land, as well as for things which would take place much further in the future. 

 As an example, a number of commentaries describe events that took place in their own experience. Or HaChaim describes a litany of events that are quite reminiscent of the Shoah. Considering that he lived several hundred years before the Shoah, he was either a prophet, filled with Ruach HaKodesh, or able to read the writing in what Moshe is saying, to reach a very logical conclusion of what steps would lead to such a devastation. 

 Towards the beginning of Shirat Haazinu, Moshe says the following:

 (י) יִמְצָאֵ֙הוּ֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ מִדְבָּ֔ר וּבְתֹ֖הוּ יְלֵ֣ל יְשִׁמֹ֑ן יְסֹֽבְבֶ֙נְהוּ֙ יְב֣וֹנְנֵ֔הוּ יִצְּרֶ֖נְהוּ כְּאִישׁ֥וֹן עֵינֽוֹ:  He brought them into being in a desert region, in a desolate, howling wasteland. He encompassed them and granted them wisdom, protecting them like the pupil of His eye.

 (יא) כְּנֶ֙שֶׁר֙ יָעִ֣יר קִנּ֔וֹ עַל־גּוֹזָלָ֖יו יְרַחֵ֑ף יִפְרֹ֤שׂ כְּנָפָיו֙ יִקָּחֵ֔הוּ יִשָּׂאֵ֖הוּ עַל־אֶבְרָתֽוֹ: Like a nesher arousing its nest, hovering over its young, He spread His wings and took them, carrying them on His pinions. 

 This imagery is rather fascinating, as it depicts God as literally carrying the people. Anyone who has seen the movie the Lord of Rings might have an idea of what it means that large birds can carry people. Or, as many have noted, an airplane may be what Moshe references in this imagery. 

 Does this Parsha, which is always read on the Shabbos before Sukkos, have any reference to the coming holiday? 

 The Three Festivals each have their own tag line – Pesach is זמן חירותנו (the time of our freedom/redemption from slavery), Shavuos is זמן מתן תורתינו (the time of the giving of the Torah), and Sukkos is זמן שמחתינו (the time of our rejoicing). What they have in common, though, is that they are all זכר ליציאת מצרים – reminiscent of the Exodus, of our having left Egypt. 

 Sukkos is the hardest to fit into that description, however, because the Exodus took place in Nissan – six months ago – and the concept of living in huts, in commemoration of the Sukkos people lived in when they left Egypt – is a hard sell for this time of year. 

 When the Mishneh Brurah describes how cold it is in Sukkos and why living in the Sukkah would only be done by those who are God-fearing, we see the main reason the Sukkah is less appealing in more northern latitudes. We in the sub-tropics have a very different argument for what the Sukkah might be less appealing – heat, bugs, rain, lack of air conditioning (though some people have AC in their sukkah!) that’s a decent argument. In Israel it’s more manageable because while the temperature is similar to here, the humidity is much lower, the rainy season hasn’t begun yet. Maybe bugs are also a challenge, but I don’t suspect it’s as bad as in Florida. 

 So how does this passage in Haazinu relate to Sukkos? And how can we better understand Sukkos if the timing seems to be all off? 

 Looking back at the verse quoted above - What does יְסֹֽבְבֶ֙נְהוּ֙ mean? He encompassed them? R Yosef Bchor Shor says He encompassed them with Sukkos, a.k.a with clouds. יבוננהו comes from both the language of building and understanding. In other words he gave them the Torah and the ability to comprehend and grasp it. 

 Netziv takes this a step further that יְסֹֽבְבֶ֙נְהוּ֙ means God made a Sukkah for each individual, which is a והוא דבר גדול ונפלא:- and amazing and wonderful thing

 Not only that, but יבוננהו means He helped them understand the ways of the world, even more than the other חכמי עולם, wise men of the world. 

 More than seeing God’s encompassing them as protective Sukkahs He put around them, we need to remember that there is another meaning to the concept of Sukkos being related to the Exodus. 

 When the Bnei Yisrael left Egypt, where was there first stop? In a place called… וַיִּסְע֧וּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל מֵרַעְמְסֵ֖ס סֻכֹּ֑תָה כְּשֵׁשׁ־מֵא֨וֹת אֶ֧לֶף רַגְלִ֛י הַגְּבָרִ֖ים לְבַ֥ד מִטָּֽף: &&&&&&& The first stop was in SUKKOS. 

 Once again in the verse quoted, when it says “He found them in a wasteland” (ימצאהו בארץ מדבר), Rabbenu Bachaye says that the idea of the Eretz Midbar, as opposed to being במדבר (in the wilderness), indicates that they were on the edge of the wilderness. In Beshalach (Shemos 13:20), we are told ויסעו מסכות ויחנו באיתם בקצה המדבר. They traveled from Sukkos, and encamped in Eitam which is at the edge of the wilderness. Inevitably, we are to understand that God met them there, so to speak, ready to accompany them through their trek in the wilderness. They left Rameses, stopped in Sukkos, and then… וה' הולך לפניהם יומם – God is leading them, enveloping them, they are under His protection, as they went from Sukkos to the Sukkah of the Almighty – you might call this the first Sukkah Hop in history! 

 In a more outward expression of this concept, Alshikh argues that God was not present with the Bnei Yisrael in Egypt. They were too gone. Too entrenched in Egypt. 

 And that’s why the verse says יִמְצָאֵ֙הוּ֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ מִדְבָּ֔ר. He was waiting to find them in the wilderness. They would become a מציאה to Him and for Him. A people of faith. A people who would remove every remnant of Egypt from within them. And people who would become a כלי, a vessel for sustaining the world. 

 Moshe’s role was to bring them around to their destiny. He had to wake them up from their slumber, to encourage them, to be for them כְּנֶ֙שֶׁר֙ יָעִ֣יר קִנּ֔וֹ עַל־גּוֹזָלָ֖יו יְרַחֵ֑ף, like the bird that protects its children. He stood over them, watching them, making sure they did the קרבן פסח correctly – כח) וַיֵּלְכ֥וּ וַֽיַּעֲשׂ֖וּ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל כַּאֲשֶׁ֨ר צִוָּ֧ה יְקֹוָ֛ק אֶת־מֹשֶׁ֥ה וְאַהֲרֹ֖ן כֵּ֥ן עָשֽׂוּ (Shemos 12:28) 

 Bnei Yisrael were everywhere! How did they all get to Ramses, so they could leave together? Alshikh says, that’s the wings of the angels (מלאכים). And from Ramses to Sukkos, which was a distance of 120 mil? Wings of angels. And how did they get from Sukkos to the sea, and from the sea to the Sinai? ואשא אתכם על כנפי נשרים. They were carried on the wings of the nesher(s). 

 Haazinu paints for us a picture of faith (אמונה), a picture of a wilderness experience we probably have a hard time fathoming. What does it mean to not be traveling in a natural fashion? What does it mean to have a cloud surrounding you, being enveloped by the Almighty, not subject to actual terrain, not subject to the need for walking in a natural fashion, with bumps on the road, holes in the sand, wagons, animals, children, elderly, broken bodies from slavery whippings, beatings, and just back-breaking labor?

 The answer is: Sukkos the place set a precedent. The arriving in Sukkos was of a miraculous arrival. The protection in Egypt and post Egypt was a supernatural Sukkah that created a people who were spiritually ready for God. 

 Were there other kinds of bumps in the road? A golden calf, complaints, spies? Yes. There were. But that doesn’t discount or remove the spiritual readiness of these people for God. The removal of the yoke of Egypt was not a simple task. But it was what they were ready for. And the Sukkah of the place called Sukkos got them rolling – first stop out of Egypt; and the Sukkah of the clouds, got them floating, and the סוכת שלומך was their final destination. Getting to Sinai, receiving the Torah. 

 Haazinu is the buffer between Yom Kippur and Sukkos. Yom Kippur contains our regret over the past year as it also inspires us for our coming year. 

 Haazinu contains within it negative aspects of the past of the Bnei Yisrael, as well as a certain level of uncertainty of what the future will bring. Will the future be a future in which we are carried by Nesharim? Will it be a future in which we are united with God in the way the people of the Wilderness had such an opportunity? 

 The holiday of Sukkos tells us, that is entirely up to us. Of course we will have our sukkahs. Of course we will eat in them. But will we dwell in them? Will we spend as much time as possible in them, weather permitting? Will we delight in our Sukkah? Will we recall the Sukkah that was clouds, representing God’s protection? Will we open our hearts and allow God in in that way? 

 That is entirely up to us. I hope we can all find the simcha in the holiday and enjoy with our family and friends, who will be sharing this special time together.