Let's talk about why we should, not why we don't have to

Just came in from the backyard. Another dip into my annual adventure of climbing into our backyard ditch for schach for the sukkah. Just needed a little more to be a little more sure of the Kashrut of our Sukkah's hole-y roof. While working on it, I had some thoughts I need to share on why I love Sukkot/Simchat Torah and why it's one of the more challenging weeks of the year for me.

People complain sometimes that spirituality can seem distant within Judaism. The prayers feel foreign, even when read in English, the routines and rituals strange, the rules strict. But Sukkot has so much potential for fun and love.

How physical it is! Your whole body thrown into building the sukkah, getting the schach, making the decorations. I love that each of us can take on our own special role preparing for the holiday, not because of what's dictated or even custom, but because of our talents. My husband is creative at assembling things. He puts up our sukkah. I love getting down and dirty in nature. So I climb into a ditch and saw bamboo and vines to throw on top. Our daughter loves art. So we all decorate with her together. And throughout this we can talk or laugh or do it on our own time rather than following dictates of decorum the way we must (and should) in shul. Yes, there are rules, but they are general, leaving lots of room for creativity.

Then there are the religious rituals themselves that do have rules, the waving of the 4 species with so many interpretations towards their meaning. The hakafot at shul, where the community continues showing our allegiances to G-d that we re-established, crowned and surrendered to from Rosh Hashanah to the closing moments of Neilah.

Throughout the week we're meant to completely immerse ourselves, as a family, in the mitzvah, living in the Sukkah -- eating, sleeping, relaxing. Not like women's monthly immersion in mikveh, or some mens' voluntary immersion right before Shabbat or a chag that is so powerful but private. But a family endeavor to just be together with G-d peeking through the latticework above us with absolute love and joy.

By Simchat Torah there is the dancing, the communal celebration, the opportunity to get up so close to the Torah itself and begin anew -- storing up joy and optimism to hold us through the winter ahead.

So then, why do people want to spend so much time saying what we don't have to do?

Start with rain, mosquitos, cold... people become uncomfortable very quickly in the sukkah. I don't wish to criticize this too thoroughly. I appreciate that the Torah allows us to protect ourselves rather than put our bodies at risk for the sake of a mitzvah. And I totally agree with disdain towards mosquitos, one of the few of Hashem's creations for which I have hardly any tolerance.

But rain?

The slightest sprinkle leads to the biggest complaints. And again, I want to be sensitive, but without rain, there would be no life. It's no less straightforward than that. Sometimes it can be uncomfortable, but I'd like to propose that others try to feel how refreshing it is, to feel G-d sending blessing upon us. Like breastmilk from a mother, it can't be replicated in any way, and we're completely dependent on its nourishment. Think of parts of the world in which water is conserved, weighed, prayed for. Can you imagine people living in those regions describing it as "disgusting?"

And now let me provide you of a list of things that women "don't have to" do:

-eat, sleep or dwell in a sukkah

-carry a lulav and etrog for hoshanas

-participate in hakafot

-read from or receive an aliyah at the Torah

Fine, what an opportunity for women to show their commitment voluntarily rather than by obligation.

Or not... because how often are we actually barred from doing these mitzvot?

How often have you been in a sukkah that is not quite big enough or in which the schach is not all quite right, and the women take seats on the periphery since "it's not our mitvah?"

As as hoshanas, and hakafot, these are so totally easy to carry out on the women's side of the mechitzah, and how often do they not, either because the shul doesn't provide leadership to make it happen or the women don't want to appear as rocking the boat, and so stand back and either don't care or pretend not to care?

And aliyot... okay, that's tricky, but I can tell you I'm going to be both layning and receiving an aliyah at a women's Torah reading. For those who feel this is "not their thing," and prefer to connect with Torah in another way, such as learning in a class, so be it. For those who just don't care because they've been excluded for so long... what a tremendous loss.

While working on a fictional story this summer about a high school girl who had to make a choice of whether to make an activist gesture or not, at risk to her comfort in remaining silent, my teenage niece commented that "It's cool to not care." We talked about the discomfort in being passionate about doing something wonderful or just, and how sometimes it leads to feelings of isolation or loneliness.

I wish that not caring was just a phase we went through. Sometimes it's something we still need to grow out of.

This season is filled with so much opportunity to feel powerfully connected with the creator who brought life to us and to all of nature, together with so much love. My prayer is that we throw ourselves into the season whole-heartedly to care and be in it together.