Jewish holidays commemorate milestones of Jewish history. They recall the touchstone moments when God descended into our world and intervened on behalf of His chosen people.

Each holiday is riveted to the exact calendar date on which these miracles unfolded thousands of years ago. Passover summons the memory of liberation from slavery, when the world first discovered that God despises human tyrants who crush the defenseless beneath their iron fists. Shavuot recalls the moment when God delivered His word and His will to a human audience, during the only mass revelation in history. 

Rabbinic holidays also commemorate specific miracles on the very days they occurred. Purim marks the moment when God demonstrated that every scheme to annihilate His chosen people would be thwarted, and that the authors of such insidious and heinous designs would be swept into the dustbin of history. Hanukkah revives the great battles of the Maccabees, who defended both faith and land against Greek military invasion and cultural assault.

Specific miracles, specific days, and specific memories.

These holidays forge a bridge across time, allowing us to relive the supernatural events on the exact days they first burst into history millennia ago. In this way, memory becomes experience, and history becomes part of our present.

Unique nature of the holiday

Unlike these discrete moments of divine intervention, Sukkot celebrates something broader. It does not commemorate a single event but rather a process that unfolded more than 40 years. It recalls the long journey through the desert, during which God shielded us from the harsh and unrelenting elements.

Unlike other holidays, Sukkot is not anchored to one day or one miracle. Its theme extends far beyond that 40-year passage, reflecting God’s providence in our world – a providence most visible when our ancestors confronted the unmanageable conditions of the wilderness.

However, divine providence did not cease with their arrival in the land. As we sit in the sukkah, more exposed to the elements than in our ordinary routine, we cultivate a deeper awareness and sensitivity to God’s ongoing protection. The sukkah is a reminder of God’s constant care in our everyday lives.

Commemorating a concept rather than a specific event reflects a more complex reality. Events are binary: They are either triumphs or defeats. The Jewish holidays celebrate moments of absolute and unconditional Jewish triumph, when God revealed His miracles for His people. Unlike these discrete moments, the process of divine providence through the desert unfolded in shades of uncertainty and struggle.

Alongside the miracles were numerous mutinies against God and our leadership. Two cardinal sins – the worship of the golden calf and the debacle of the spies – derailed the march to the Land of Israel, delaying it by 40 years. 

Several horrific plagues struck the Jewish camp, claiming tens of thousands of lives. The trek through the desert was neither binary nor overtly miraculous. High moments were always intertwined with bitter experiences of failure.

For 38 of the 40 years, we did not speak with God, as He imposed a harsh silence upon a fallen generation – the generation of the spies. And yet we commemorate that journey for seven days, sitting beneath the open skies and recalling divine providence. Not every moment was triumphant.

Yet the broader arc of history was guided and sustained by God’s hand. We moved steadily toward the Promised Land and the fulfillment of Jewish destiny. Setbacks and frustrations were part of the journey, but the larger pattern was unmistakable. We celebrate that arc – the way God directed the historical process – even amid trials, suffering, and uncertainty.

Sukkot's relevance to Oct 7.

This is what makes Sukkot so relevant under the shadow of Oct. 7. Just as God guided us through scorching deserts and biting winds, so too He continues to guide us today through trials that threaten our survival: 1948 felt very Passover-like – we gained national sovereignty; 1967 felt very Purim-like – we repelled existential threats and annihilationist enemies. But the overall process has been uneven. 

The past two years, which stand as defining chapters in our national story, have been turbulent and mixed. Moments of triumph and miracles have been intertwined with long periods of pain, suffering, and frustration.

Sukkot reminds us that we celebrate not only singular events but also processes. We honor the arc that the divine hand has begun to author – our return to the homeland and the flourishing of a state of the Jewish people, making 2025 feel more like Sukkot than Passover.

Sukkot has an additional feature that makes it particularly resonant in 2025. The second mitzvah – gathering succulent, ripe fruits to form a bouquet – symbolizes our journey from poverty and slavery in Egypt to citizenship and abundance in Israel. 

Though commanded in the desert, it finds its fullest expression in the Land of Israel, where the Four Species are readily available. The Four Species of Sukkot are more than a mitzvah – they are an upgrade to who we were the night we were born as a nation.

On that night of Passover in Egypt, we were so impoverished that our bouquet was formed from simple reeds. We used it to spread the blood of the sacrifice upon the door posts of our homes. On Sukkot, the Four Species represent a transformation. We have transitioned from a ragtag group of slaves to a sovereign nation, building society and stability.

To mark this shift – from helplessness to empowerment – we take four beautiful garden fruits and branches rather than simple, unadorned river reeds. Sukkot celebrates slaves transformed into residents. It celebrates God not simply rescuing us but empowering us to build stable, enduring lives.

On the night of Passover, we were vulnerable, using a simple bouquet of reeds to mark our homes, hoping God would spare us. The Four Species of Sukkot reflect humans expressing their love of God and gratitude through beauty, color, and abundance.

Living Sukkot

Once again, we are living Sukkot, not Passover. Many of the hidden miracles we have experienced have come as a result of God equipping us with the ability to build and defend our homeland.

God has not waged war from the heavens. He has gifted us with the technological know-how to control the heavens. God has not enveloped our homes to prevent the angel of death; rather, He has delivered the tools to shield our skies from foreign threats, sparing thousands of lives. We are no less thankful to God for empowering us than we are for overtly rescuing us. 

The great sage Rabbi Eliezer taught that in the desert, God sheltered us in cloud enclosures that cooled the searing heat and kept desert predators at bay. Our clothing remained clean, and our feet never became caked with sand.

However, on Sukkot we do not recreate these divine enclosures; we cannot. Instead, we build human huts, demonstrating that God has empowered us to construct not only shelters but also societies and systems to protect and sustain ourselves.

Though we build huts with human hands, we ensure that they remain temporary. The height cannot be too great, for that would suggest permanence. The roof cannot be too thick, for that too would imply durability.

As we construct our huts, and as we build our country, we remember on Sukkot that despite our considerable human ingenuity and skill, we remain dependent on God – not only for the technology itself but also for help when our knowledge and tools fall short.

There are limits to what humans can accomplish, even when guided and inspired by the divine. Human effort has limits; God’s guidance does not. 

The writer, a rabbi at the Hesder pre-military Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, received his ordination from Yeshiva University and has an MA in English literature. His books include To Be Holy but Human: Reflections Upon My Rebbe, HaRav Yehuda Amital.