Our family was away for Shabbos recently. When we arrived home, as soon as we walked through the front door, we were greeted by a putrid smell. I ran to the basement and then upstairs, fearing a lot of different things, but everything seemed to be in order.
A minute later, my son announced that he had discovered the source of the horrible odor—a frozen chicken bottom that had been left out all weekend. So as not to embarrass anyone before Yom Kippur, and because it may or may not have been the fault of the author of this article, the culprit will remain nameless. But the chicken taken out of the downstairs freezer was meant to be moved to the upstairs freezer. In our haste to leave on Friday, it was left out all Shabbos. The air conditioner in the house had been shut off, and the humidity didn’t help the situation. It’s amazing how terrible one package of defrosted chicken could smell.
I immediately placed the malodorous culprit in the garbage can outside. But even with the actual chicken gone, the smell lingered. I left all the kitchen windows open overnight, but it wasn’t until the following day that the terrible smell dissipated.
The process of teshuvah contains two components. The first is repentance from actual sins committed. That requires the three-step process of regret, confession, and commitment/planning for the future. But even after the actual sins have been purged, there is an additional component that lingers, i.e., the “terrible smell” and polluted atmosphere created by the sin. Aside from the sinful action itself, sin damages us spiritually and creates spiritual distance and numbness. That requires its own repentance to repair the spiritually dank atmosphere.
Throughout Selichos, we repeatedly mention the word derech—path/road. We ask Hashem to forgive us not only for actual sins committed but also for the pathways to sin that we created. It’s not only what we do, but it’s also about getting to the root of why we do it. In addition, it’s not only what we do, but it’s also about the ramifications and ill effects of the sin.
Yom Kippur is an opportunity to reset by purging ourselves of our sins and committing ourselves to improving our actions, in part by understanding our motivations.
During the year, the wooden panels of our sukkah are piled up, covered with a tarp, and stored under our porch. Last year, when we began pulling out the sukkah boards before Sukkos, a swarm of bees started coming out of the boards. The bees were not happy that their summer habitat was being disturbed, to say the least. We had to wait until after dark before we were able to pull out the boards and run. The bees had formed a massive beehive that comprised almost an entire board. It took a lot of effort before we were able to clear the bees and put up the sukkah.
The ultimate antidote for the spiritually polluted atmosphere of sin is the spiritually elevated atmosphere of the sukkah. Apparently, the evil inclination isn’t too keen on our constructing an enclave of holiness, akin to the holiness of Yerushalayim. Angry bees were unable to stop us, however, and our sukkah was soon constructed, b’H.
(I should add that this year, when I pulled off the tarp from atop the sukkah boards, I found a squirrel tail underneath. Apparently, the squirrel had gotten stuck underneath the boards. However, I’m not sure what lesson can be gleaned from that. One thing I do know is that that squirrel has a sad tale.)
The Gemara (Avodah Zarah 3a) refers to sukkah as a “mitzvah kallah—an easy mitzvah.” Particularly for those of us who can hardly screw in a nail properly, constructing a sukkah doesn’t feel like an easy mitzvah. But compared to what a person is getting, it’s relatively easy. There is almost no mitzvah in which you get more bang for your buck than sukkah. With walls constructed out of virtually any material and some kosher s’chach on top, one creates an abode of ultimate kedushah where he and his family can bask in the glow of the Shechinah and rejoice for a week.
The Vilna Gaon notes that there are only two mitzvos that one can fulfill with his entire body—living in Eretz Yisroel and sukkah (the Gaon learns that the pasuk in Tehillim 76:3 alludes to this).
The joy of Sukkos includes the beloved mitzvah of sukkah, when one basks in the spiritual spa of its holy atmosphere. On Yom Kippur, we gained atonement for our sins; on Sukkos, we freshen the air and celebrate our efforts and accomplishments from the great days of teshuvah.
Rabbi Dani Staum is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbi in Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, New Jersey, principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, New York, and a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. His writings can be found at strivinghigher.com. Looking for an inspirational speaker or scholar-in-residence? Contact Rabbi Staum at 845-641-5094 or at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..