Thoughts on Shabbat Sukkot 5786
Jewish holidays follow two essential patterns.
Some are joyous celebrations, while others are more solemn. But all Jewish holidays do more than invite celebration—they also challenge us deeply.
Pesach challenges us in several ways, beginning with its strict eating restrictions: no chametz, no legumes, no beans, no hummus! It also challenges the entire Jewish community. The Talmud teaches that every single Jew, regardless of social status, must participate in the Pesach seder and drink four cups of wine. The responsibility for making this possible falls on the community as a whole.
Yom Kippur challenges us differently. We are obligated to detach ourselves from the physical world—from everything external that stimulates us—and spend twenty-five hours in moral introspection, looking inward and engaging in meaningful conversation with others.
The challenge Sukkot poses is the following: it tells us that we must be happy, that we must rejoice and celebrate life, no matter the circumstances.
This is a particularly difficult challenge in our times—not because our era is uniquely terrible, but because we are instantly exposed to everything terrible in the world: corruption, injustice, hatred, tragedies, and pure evil. Such constant exposure can affect us emotionally in profound and damaging ways.
Yesterday I talked about the idea of whether it is possible to make everyone happy, according to Judaism. Today I will talk about how to make ourselves happy, or at least happier than we are—in order to be able to fulfill the fundamental mitzvah of Sukkot—to rejoice, no matter what.
The holiday of Sukkot is called Z’man Simchateinu—the season of our rejoicing—and it commands us to find joy even in turbulent times. How do we do that in a world filled with uncertainty, from personal struggles to global unrest? How do we cultivate joy and truly embrace life?
Jewish tradition offers several guiding principles: embracing simcha as a commandment, practicing gratitude (hakarat hatov), trusting in God’s plan (bitachon), connecting through community and kindness (chesed), finding meaning in mitzvot, seeking joy in small moments, and reframing challenges. Each of these is a powerful tool, but today I will focus on the last one—the transformative power of reframing challenges.
This teaching comes from Rabbi Nachman of Breslov and is often paraphrased as: “If you’re not impressed with the picture of the world, change the frame.” Rooted in his words from Likutei Moharan II, 17:1, it urges us to be selective in our focus, seeking the good (nekudot tovot) in every situation in order to cultivate joy.
In other words, by reframing challenges we shift our attention from life’s difficulties to its blessings, finding meaning and joy even in the darkest moments.
Rabbi Nachman’s original teaching states:
“צָרִיךְ לִרְאוֹת תָּמִיד אֶת הַטּוֹב שֶׁבְּכָל דָּבָר, וְלֹא לְהִסְתַּכֵּל עַל הָרַע שֶׁבּוֹ, כִּי כָּל דָּבָר יֵשׁ בּוֹ נְקֻדּוֹת טוֹבוֹת”
“One must always see the good in every thing and not focus on the bad in it, for every thing has points of good.”
This is not about ignoring pain or pretending challenges don’t exist. It is a deliberate choice to shift our attention from what is broken to what is whole, from despair to possibility.
One of the main reasons many people feel unhappy is their excessive focus on everything bad and negative. This stems from both natural and cultural factors. I’ll address the cultural ones shortly; first, let’s examine the natural ones.
Our minds—both in troubled times and in general—naturally gravitate toward the negative. This is a biological adaptation developed through evolution, shared with all living creatures. You can observe it in pets: cats and dogs react far more strongly to potentially negative signals from their environment than to positive ones—cats especially tend to be fearful. We are wired to notice threats because they represent danger. A job loss, a serious health diagnosis, global crises, or conflict can dominate our thoughts to the point where fixing the problem seems like the only solution. Yet that is sometimes impossible, and even when possible, the path may be long and filled with further suffering.
But fixing the problem is not the only solution—especially when the source of unhappiness is not catastrophic, such as the death of a loved one or an incurable illness.
Rabbi Nachman offers a simple yet profound alternative: we have agency over our focus. By choosing to seek the nekudot tovot—the points of good—we reframe challenges as part of a divine tapestry.
Consider the Israelites in the desert, whom Sukkot commemorates. They faced hunger, danger, and uncertainty, yet God provided manna and clouds of glory. The sukkah reminds us to focus on divine protection rather than the desert’s hardships. When life feels unstable, we can ask: What good can I find here? What growth is possible? Perhaps a challenge prompts us to reconnect with loved ones, deepen our faith, or discover inner strength.
This selective focus is not denial—it is discipline. The Talmud (Berachot 60b) teaches that we bless God for the bad just as we do for the good, acknowledging that even difficulties serve a purpose in God’s plan. Rabbi Nachman’s call to “change the frame” means training ourselves to notice blessings amidst pain.
For example, a family struggling financially during Sukkot might feel deeply worried. Yet, sitting together in the sukkah, they can reframe the experience: the simple joy of a shared meal, the laughter of children decorating the sukkah. These are nekudot tovot, and focusing on them can transform despair into joy.
How do we gain this agency over our focus? Through disciplined inner work. Judaism and many other religious traditions teach that true happiness requires freeing our minds and hearts from dependence on external circumstances. The more emotionally, intellectually, or spiritually dependent we are on things that trigger negative emotions, the unhappier we become. This is especially true today, when we are exposed to literally everything—every calamity is instantly at hand.
We must therefore be selective. We cannot empathize with every instance of human suffering or tragedy in the world. It is beyond our human capacity to process so much emotionally and intellectually. There are natural limits to what we can handle.
Having discussed the natural tendency to focus on the negative, let me now turn briefly to the cultural side.
A mistaken modern norm suggests that human empathy is unlimited, and that the more we feel the suffering of the entire world, the better people we are. This idea must be rejected. It is unrealistic, self-righteous, and has always been wrong because it ignores basic human limitations. We did not evolve in a world where we could instantly access every tragedy and fully empathize with it. Empathy and compassion are virtues, but they have limits and must be guided by common sense. They are not the only virtues.
There is therefore nothing wrong—and everything right—about Rabbi Nachman’s teaching to reframe the picture of the world in our minds. It is essential for our mental health.
Sukkot obligates us to experience joy, which means challenging both our natural negative bias and our culturally reinforced mindset. Dwelling in the sukkah inspires us to shift our perspective. It teaches appreciation for life’s simplicity and gratitude for what we have. It reminds us that nothing in the material world is eternal—neither the bad we encounter nor our current perception of reality—and it encourages us to question how we see the world.
The sukkah itself embodies this truth. Its flimsy walls and open roof expose us to the elements, mirroring life’s fragility—illness, loss, uncertainty. Yet we do not dwell on the sukkah’s weakness; we celebrate its shelter, invite ushpizin (honored guests), and give thanks for the harvest. This is reframing: seeing vulnerability as an opportunity for connection and gratitude.
Sukkot’s rituals reinforce this mindset. Waving the lulav and etrog—symbols of diverse Jews united in purpose—reminds us to focus on unity rather than division. Inviting ushpizin, both biblical figures and real guests, shifts our attention to hospitality and community rather than isolation. These acts train us to be selective, choosing the good over the bad.
Rabbi Nachman’s own life exemplified this teaching. Despite personal tragedies—including the loss of children and severe illness—he insisted on joy, declaring that despair is the greatest spiritual enemy. His famous words, “Mitzvah gedolah lihyot b’simcha tamid” (It is a great mitzvah to be joyous always), urge us to fight for joy through intentional focus.
How do we apply this today? In our turbulent world—marked by political division, economic strain, or personal struggles—reframing challenges is a radical act. If you feel anxious about the future, sit in the sukkah and focus on the present: the rustle of leaves, the warmth of community, the taste of a shared meal. If you are grieving, seek one nekudah tovah—a loving memory or a kind gesture from a friend. If global news overwhelms you, reframe by performing a mitzvah: give tzedakah or invite a lonely neighbor to your sukkah. These small shifts accumulate, building resilience and joy.
Other Jewish principles complement reframing. Gratitude (hakarat hatov) trains us to bless God for life’s gifts, shifting our gaze from lack to abundance. Trust in God (bitachon) reminds us that challenges have purpose, just as the sukkah recalls divine care in the desert. Community (chesed) uplifts us through shared meals and prayer. Mitzvot, such as waving the lulav, spark joy through action. Seeking small moments—singing in the sukkah, telling stories—creates sparks of simcha that break cycles of sadness. Yet reframing remains the foundation, enabling us to choose what we see.
As we celebrate Shabbat Sukkot, let us commit to Rabbi Nachman’s challenge: change the frame. In this fragile yet joy-filled sukkah, let us seek the nekudot tovot in our lives. By focusing on the good—God’s presence, our community, the gift of this moment—we fulfill the mitzvah of simcha, transforming troubled times into opportunities for life and hope.
May this Sukkot inspire us to reframe our challenges and find joy that sustains us through every season.
Chag Sameach, Shabbat Shalom.
Rabbi Mirski
Leave a Reply