Shabbat Shalom. I hope you all had a meaningful and successful Chag Sukkot and that you're having a beautiful evening in the sukkah.
Let's dedicate this farbreng and Torah call to the safe return of all the hostages and to the healing and unity of Am Yisrael.
There is a special mitzvah on Sukkot, "ושמחת בחגך," to rejoice. And part of that joy was the great celebration in the Beit HaMikdash, the Simchat Beit HaSho'eva, where Chazal said: "מי שלא ראה שמחת בית השואבה, לא ראה שמחה מימיו." Whoever never saw the joy of the Beit HaSho'eva never saw true joy in their life.
But the question is, what was so joyful? They would draw water and pour it on the mizbe'ach. That is it. No wine, no riches, no grand feast, just water.
And to make it even stranger, we are at the end of the dry season, when water is precious and every drop counts. Why pour it out? So some commentators say that act itself is faith. It is a declaration that Hashem, we trust You for rain, for life, for everything.
But there is a deeper layer. Only two weeks earlier, on Rosh Hashanah, we went to do Tashlich, throwing our sins into a living body of water. So why, a short time later, do we come and draw that very water, the same water that carries our mistakes, and pour it on the altar of God?
Maybe it is to teach us something profound. When we repent from fear, the Gemara says, our intentional sins become like mistakes. But when we return from love, מתוך אהבה, our sins themselves transform into mitzvot, into merit. Because we learned from them, we grew, we turned the pain into purpose. The water that once carried our failures becomes the very water we lift up and offer to Hashem.
That is real joy. That is Simchat Beit HaSho'eva, drawing not just water, but meaning, drawing light even from darkness, transforming our tears into the joy of renewal.
And that is the message of this sukkah, the sukkah of teshuvah. We have gone through awe and fear on Yom Kippur, and now we return again, not trembling but dancing. We re-enter Hashem's embrace not as beggars asking for forgiveness, but as children returning home, full of love and gratitude.
On Yom Kippur, one of my rabbis shared a powerful story. Two years ago, there was a heartbreaking moment in our nation, arguments and shouting in Tel Aviv over whether people could daven in the public square with a mechitzah. It reached all the way to the courts, almost symbolic of the arguments reaching the courts of Heaven. But this Yom Kippur, at the Hostage Square, something beautiful happened.
Two mothers, one religious and one secular, stood before Kol Nidrei. They said, this square is big enough for all of us. If you want to pray separately, you will find your place. If you want to pray as a family, you will find your place. But we will all pray together.
And then one of the mothers said, when the Kohen Gadol enters the Kodesh HaKodashim, he looks toward the Keruvim, the two angels on the Aron HaBrit. When they face each other and embrace, that is where the Shekhinah dwells.
And that night, it happened again. In ten minutes, thousands of Jews, religious, secular, right, and left, found their place. Families sat together, others prayed with separation. No anger, no hate, just oneness.
That is Simchat Beit HaSho'eva, the joy of returning to one heart. The joy of turning division into connection, sin into merit, water into light.
This Shabbat, may we all take that message into our homes and hearts. May we remember that the fraction is what broke us, but the unity is what will rebuild us. And may we very soon see, במהרה בימינו, the safe return of all our hostages, home, whole, and embraced by Am Yisrael.
May we all dance again in peace, together.
Shabbat Shalom uMoadim l'Simcha. Rav Shlomo