Hoshana Rabba & Simhat Torah (Archives)

Kol Mevaser ve-Omer

The most profound interpretation I have ever seen for the strange rituals of Hoshana Rabbah, the seventh day of Sukkot, is that of the Sefat Emet. He explains the central role of the willow branch on this holiday, with which Sukkot as such concludes, on the basis of the classical midrashim on lulav and etrog. The willow corresponds to the simple Jew, who has “neither taste nor flavor,” neither learning nor good deeds. Having no merit, he falls back upon simple prayer: pouring out his heart before God, he begs for mercy, for acceptance not based upon any special virtue. And with what does he do this? According to another midrash, in which the four species each correspond to a different part of the body—the heart, the spine, the eye—the willow corresponds to the lips. So at the very final sealing of the Divine judgment—after a month of awakening and reciting Selihot, and ten days of intense soul searching and even greater penitence, of fasting and confessing on Yom Kippur, of being busy with numerous mitzvot throughout Sukkot—we are ultimately thrown back on Hoshana Rabbah upon the simplest, most heartfelt emotions, pleading for mercy with our voices, and hoping to awaken God’s fatherly instincts, so to speak.

“Rejoice and Be Glad in Simhat Torah”

Shemini Atzeret/Simhat Torah, the final festival of the Jewish calendar, is described as an intimate rendezvous between God and the Jewish people. Unlike Sukkot, there are no “official” mitzvot, no external, physical symbols of the holiday. Instead of seven days, a number symbolic of completeness and fulness of all Divine aspects, there is but one day. (In both of these respects, it is analogous to Shavuot, which is similarly called “Atzeret,” and also a festival centered around Torah) Rather than the seventy bullocks sacrificed during the course of Sukkot, seen as symbolic of the nations of the world, there is but a single one. The midrash speaks of God asking Israel to tarry with him one more day, comparing him to a king who made an elaborate celebration for his extended entourage, at whose end he asks his closest and most intimate friends to stay for one more day, to say goodbye in a more intimate way. “It is hard for me to part from you” (b. Sukkah 55b; Num. Rab. 21:25).

The Hakkafot (processions) of Simhat Torah open with a series of biblical verses, the first of which is, “You have been shown to know that the Lord is God, there is none other but him” (Deut 4:35). This last day is the culmination of the “spiritual knowledge” that is the theme of all the festival of Tishrei: the knowledge that there is ultimately naught but God. Paradoxically, it is both an intimate holiday, and simultaneously one marked by an outburst of ecstatic joy.

Another verse recited before the Hakkafot is “And it shall be said on that day: Behold, this is our God for whom we have waited; this is the Lord for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his deliverance” (Isaiah 25:9). An interesting aggadah in the final lines of Tractate Ta’anit (31a) relates that “God will make a dance for the righteous in the Future; each one shall point with his finger [upon seeing the Divine glory, visible to their eyes], and say ‘this is the Lord for whom we have waited!...’” Rav Soloveitchik once contrasted the synagogue processions of Sukkot and Simhat Torah as follows: During Sukkot, the Jews stand on the periphery of the circle, holding in their hands the lulav and etrog, an “object of mitzvah,” while the Torah scroll is in the center. On Simhat Torah, the Jews holding the Sifrei Torah are on the periphery, while there is seemingly nothing in particular in the center. But no: in the center, invisible to eyes of flesh and blood, is the Divine Presence. The Jews dancing on Simhat Torah anticipate the eschatological dance of the righteous.

What is Simha?

What do we mean by simha (“joy”) anyway? When we wrote last week about Sukkot and the dwelling in the Sukkah as a locus for our joy, we described it as a kind of calm, contented, tranquil joy in which each person feels happiness in simply being in God’s good world. But there is another kind of simha: the energetic, intense, at times even ecstatic and explosive atmosphere generated at great public gatherings such as the Hakafot of Simhat Torah or the Simhat Beit ha-Sho’evah in olden times. One may learn much about simha from a close reading of Mainonides’ presentation of the concept of Simhat Yom Tov, “rejoicing in the festivals,” in Hilkhot Yom Tov, 6.17-21, as well as from his remarks at the end of Hilkhot Lulav (8.12-15). This can be done, first and foremost, by a negative process of elimination.

First, simha is inconsistent with selfishness. Rambam lambasts those who celebrate the festival in the closed circle of their family and friends, “locking the gates of his courtyard,” all the while ignoring the poor, unfortunate and embittered (this presumably includes the lonely). Such a festive meal is not a “simha of mitzvah” but simhat kereso, “a celebration for his own stomach.” Simha must go with Hesed, with acts of loving kindness to others (§18).

Second, true simha is sharply contrasted with holelut and kalut rosh (§20): frivolity and emptiness, what might be called in good colloquial American “fooling around.” Many people equate “joy” with foolishness, with license to perform practical jokes, or with the often vulgar, standardized humor of professional comedians.

Third, true simha is inconsistent with lewdness, with intermingling of the sexes for questionable purposes. Rambam calls upon community officials to be vigilant against flirtatious gatherings in the “gardens and orchards or by the rivers” on festive days (§21). This comment was of course rooted in a very traditional society, with very strict norms of separation of the sexes. For those of us who advocate a society that is “mixed but modest,” the same issues present themselves, albeit with different implementation. Unfortunately, there are places where Simhat Torah is notorious for degenerating into a gigantic mixer.

Fourth, simha involves a certain spiritual goal. The Talmud (Beitza 15b) is much exercised to find the proper balance between sacred and profane activities on the holidays: “for God” and “for yourselves.” On the one hand, as we human beings are creatures of flesh and blood, the festive meal is an integral part of simha: “there is no joy without meat and wine.” Indeed, the more spiritual the message of the holiday—as in the case of Shavuot—the more essential it is that it be celebrated davka with physical expression. On the other hand, a significant part of the day must be spent in religious spiritual activities: study, prayer, etc. (§19).

Having defined the negative parameters, Maimonides also gives a succinct positive definition of simha: “to be joyous and good hearted, he and his household” (§17), and that this joy involve “the service of the Creator of All” (§20).

But that is not all. In Hilkhot Lulav, he describes how, during Sukkot, there was simha yeteira, a greater rejoicing than the regular rejoicing of the other festivals. He refers by this to Simhat Beit ha-Sho’eva, the “Rejoicing of the House of the Water Drawing,” a special celebration held in the Women’s Courtyard of the Temple, with torches, musical instruments, and pious men “dancing, clapping, leaping, twirling, jumping,” etc. He adds that one who refrains from participating in this uninhibited rejoicing out of pomposity and a sense of his own self-importance commits a sin (Lulav 8.15).

I believe that our own rejoicing during Simhat Torah derives in part from the sense that Sukkot is an appropriate time for “extra rejoicing,” transferring the aura of Simhat Beit ha-Shoe’va from the intermediate nights of the festival to the final day, and from the subject of water to that of Torah (which are symbolically related). Interestingly, almost the identical words as are used above by the Rambam (and the Mishnah) are used in describing the behavior of Gaon of Vilna during Simhat Torah, adding that “wisdom enlightened his face, which shone like a burning torch” (Ma’aseh Rav, in Siddur Ishei Yisrael, p. 519).

I will conclude with a description of Simhat Torah by Rabbi Yehudah Leib Zlotnick (Avida), as it was celebrated just over a hundred years ago, in the Polish town of Zakroczym:

On the afternoon of Shemeni Atzeret and the early evening of Simhat Torah, the members of each society would gather in the home of its leader or in the home of the gabbai of that month for a “festive meal.” This was a light repast, at which they would drink and enjoy various pastries, kechlakh, smoked fish, lentils, fruit and the like. My brother, the rabbi [i.e, Rabbi Yonah Mordecai Zlotnik], visited each group, tasted something, and spoke about the significance of the day. He then went on to the next society, accompanied by the leaders of the group, by the light of a special lantern carried on a pole (with the name of the particular society written on the glass of the lantern). Finally, he was accompanied by all of them to the Hevra Kaddisha [Burial Society]. From there, while holding a Torah scroll, he was led under a huppa [canopy used at weddings] with songs and music, accompanied by the entire congregation and all the lanterns, to the synagogue for the Hakkafot [the dancing procession with the Torah scrolls that is the central feature of Simhat Torah]. One who has not seen this rejoicing, will find it difficult to believe that it took place in our town, in the exile of Poland. Yet even when Messiah son of David comes—may he come speedily in our day—the joy of Simhat Torah will not be greater than that of Simhat Torah in Zakroczym in those days.