Inspired by the teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
The Summary
In its account of the chaggim, this week’s parsha says:
“For seven days you shall live in huts [succot]. All those native-born in Israel must live in huts, so that future generations may know that I had the Israelites live in huts when I brought them out of the land of Egypt; I am the Lord your God.”
Vayikra 23:42
What huts are they talking about? Two great Sages, Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Akiva, disagreed. Rabbi Eliezer said the huts or shelters (succot) refers to the Clouds of Glory that protected the Israelites in the desert. By contrast, Rabbi Akiva said it is literal, the succot were the huts that sheltered us in the midbar.
This debate continues among commentators. Rashi and Ramban favour the Clouds of Glory, seeing Succot as a reminder of miracles. Ibn Ezra and Rashbam take the word “huts” literally. Rashbam explains that the festival of Succot arrives each when the harvest-time is complete and the people are surrounded by the blessings of the land, but this was precisely the time to remind Bnei Yisrael of how they came to be in the Promised Land. As we relive the wilderness years, back when we had no permanent home, we feel a sense of gratitude to God for bringing us to the land. As Moshe warned: when you have plenty, you may forget God and say, “My power has brought me this wealth.”
But a question remains. If the succot were just huts, where is the miracle? The chaggim of Pesch and Shavuot celebrate miraculous moments that God gave to us. Pesach recalls dramatic signs and wonders. Shavuot marks the giving of the Torah. There is nothing exceptional in living in a portable home if you are a nomadic group living in the Sinai desert. It is what Bedouin do to this day. Where then is the miracle?
A beautiful answer comes from Yirmiyahu: “I remember how... you loved Me and followed Me through the desert, through a land not sown.”
Most accounts of the wilderness focus on the people’s complaints. Yirmiyahu instead recalls their faith. They left a known land and followed God into an unknown future. They travelled through danger, trusting that God would guide them. This was not a miracle of what God did for them, but of what they did for God. Perhaps this is Rabbi Akiva’s insight. The greatness of the wilderness years was not the Clouds of Glory, but the miraculous courage of a people without a home, exposed and vulnerable, who continued their journey, believing in God’s protection.
Succot later came to symbolise Jewish history itself. For centuries, Jews lived without permanent security. They were often forced to move, never fully safe, never in a permanent home. Yet they held onto their faith. Even when they could have escaped suffering by giving it up, they did not.
That is why Succot is called zeman simchatenu, “the season of our joy.” Despite uncertainty, Jews celebrated life. With no protection other than faith, they affirmed hope and meaning.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev explained that Pesach has two names: one praising God, the other praising Israel. So too with Succot. Rabbi Eliezer saw God’s miracle. Rabbi Akiva saw the miracle of Israel - their willingness to follow God into the unknown.
Why celebrate this at harvest time? Yirmiyahu gives the answer beautifully: “I remember the devotion of your youth, how - as a bride - you loved Me and followed Me through the desert, through a land not sown.””
Just as, during the month of Tishrei, the Israelites celebrate their harvest, so God celebrates His too – and His harvest is us, the people who, whatever else their failings, have stayed loyal to Heaven’s call for longer, and through a more arduous set of journeys, than any other people on earth.
Around the Shabbat Table
Questions to Ponder
1. Why do we need faith to embark upon a journey without knowing the destination?
2. As a people, do you think we turn to God more when times are hard or when things are working out? Is this lamentable?
3. How can sitting in a flimsy succah make us feel safe?
A Takeaway Thought
There’s a beautiful duality in the chag of Succot. God provided us with miraculous and steadfast protection, like the Clouds of Glory, but as a people we performed a miracle also, by having the courage to follow Him into the unknown. Like the symbol of the succah hut, Jewish life teaches trust, humility, and loyalty even in uncertainty.
Exploring the Parsha
With Sara Lamm
The Parsha in a Nutshell
Parshat Emor contains the Jewish calendar’s complete cycle of chaggim (festivals), mapping out the sacred rhythm of our year.
The parsha begins by outlining the special laws of purity and marriage for the Kohanim, the priests, ensuring they maintain the highest level of sanctity for their service in the Mishkan. The Torah then transitions into the holy times, the chaggim, although it begins with the weekly holiness of Shabbat. It details Pesach in the spring, Shavuot seven weeks later, and the High Holy days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur in the autumn. Finally, it describes Succot, commanding us to dwell in temporary huts for seven days to remember the wilderness journey.
Emor concludes with the laws of the eternal light in the Sanctuary, the showbread, and a sobering narrative about a man who blasphemes God’s name, reminding us that words have immense power and that the sanctity of speech is just as vital as the sanctity of time and space.
Parsha Activity
The Hidden Journey
Clear a safe path across the room. One person is blindfolded while another acts as their guide. The guide cannot touch the blindfolded person; they can only use their voice to give directions around obstacles. Time just how long it takes to cross the room.
Now switch roles and see who is the most trusting traveller and who is the clearest guide. This game is a fun way to experience what it feels like to step into the unknown, relying entirely on someone else’s voice to keep you safe.
A Story for the Ages
The Nail of Faith
Many years ago, a young Rabbi Sacks got married and was excited to build his very first succah in his new home. There was just one problem. He had never built anything before. Not knowing where to start, he felt lucky to have a friend who knew all about construction, and who had built many succot before. Together, they went to the timber yard.
The friend had drawn up architectural plans before he arrived. So he measured everything perfectly, and bought an impressive supply of heavy beams, planks, hinges, and screws. Rabbi Sacks watched his friend in awe. But with no experience with woodwork, he decided to simplify things. He bought just a few sheets of hardboard, some wooden supports, and a bag of nails. The two friends went to their respective homes and each began to build a succah.
Rabbi Sacks would chuckle as he told this part of the story, for as his friend was busy constructing a magnificent, sturdy succah that almost looked like a summer house. Rabbi Sacks just about managed to nail three simple walls together. Then he leaned them against the back wall of his house, securing the corner with another nail. It looked, he thought, like a large packing case. But it would fulfil the mitzva, and he and his wife would be able to eat there on Succot.
On the second night of the chag, a massive storm blew through England. The wind howled and wailed as trees were toppled all over the country. It was the hurricane of the decade! The next morning in shul, everyone was discussing the damage that they had woken up to find. But Rabbi Sacks was sure that his friend’s succah must have survived. After all, it had been constructed so expertly, so beautifully. Sadly, his friend admitted that his study, elaborate succah had completely collapsed. He would have to rebuild.
“Would you like me to help redo your succah too?” asked the friend. “Thank you, but my succah is still standing!” Rabbi Sacks replied.
The friend could not believe it. How could any succah have survived, let alone that built by a beginner? Rabbi Sacks wasn’t sure either. The two men walked home together to investigate, and the friend soon found the answer.
“My beautiful structure stood independently, and took the full force of the wind. Yours was attached to the solid brick wall of your house by this one nail. This nail is what made all the difference. Do you see?” Rabbi Sacks smiled. “Now I understand Succot. You can build the most sophisticated structure, but if it stands alone, a storm will destroy it. On the other hand, if an improvised, frail shelter is joined to something immovable, it too will hold fast. It’s just like faith. This nail is faith.”
Cards & Conversation
Cards & Conversation: Chumash Edition is a new resource. On one side of every parsha card, you’ll find an interesting question to think about and discuss, based on the Torah portion. Flip it over, and you’ll discover an idea from Rabbi Sacks that shines a new light on the parsha.
We are pleased to offer a weekly sample of these cards on these pages, and you can also download the full set, request a pack of your own, andfind out more by visiting Cards & Conversation.
A man publicly curses God – and it becomes one of the most serious moments in the Torah.
Why do you think using God’s name with disrespect matters so much?
“Take the one who cursed outside the camp. All the people who heard him shall lay their hands on his head – and then the whole community shall stone him.”
- Rabbi Sacks’ translation of Vayikra 24:14
Rabbi Sacks on Vayikra 24:14 (in the Koren Sacks Humash) continues his commentary, and offers an answer:
“Life itself is holy: people, not just priests; the whole of life, not just edited parts of it. So we have to be holy in the way we eat, the way we conduct our... relationships, and the way we use language. We must not curse even the deaf, let alone our parents, let alone God, because verbal abuse leads to physical abuse.
Blasphemy injures society by desecrating the sacred. That is why, uniquely in this case, the witnesses are to lay their hands on the sinner, to indicate that this affects everyone. It is a sobering narrative, the negative side of the broader picture of the book [Vayikra]: the priestly sanctification of life.”
The Torah commands us to live in huts for seven days to remember the wilderness journey. Every year, and as a whole people, no matter where we live in the world, no matter the weather. And so we do, still today, moving out of our homes to eat and often to sleep in temporary succot.
Building a succah, and dwelling within it reminds us to step out of our secure houses and experience that same vulnerability. The biggest lesson to learn from this is that our ultimate security comes only from God.
“Succot celebrates the dual nature of Jewish faith: the universality of God and the particularity of Jewish existence.” - Rabbi Sacks
Practically Speaking
How will flex your faith?
Rabbi Sacks notes that people often remember God in times of distress but forget Him in times of plenty. When we have fine houses, jobs and savings, it’s easy to start believing we produced all our wealth and success on our own. The succah forces us to leave our solid homes and sit in a vulnerable hut, reminding us that everything we have is a gift.
Faith is like a muscle that needs stretching and strengthening to keep it in the best possible shape. This week, try doing something slightly outside your comfort zone that requires trusting the process. It could be having a difficult conversation you have been avoiding, or simply letting go of the need to plan every single detail of your day. Step into the unknown, just a little bit, and notice how it feels to rely on faith.
Try it Out
Young students
Build a fort in your living room with just blankets, pillows, and chairs. Then sit in it, look around, and see how flimsy the walls are. If someone pushed a chair, the whole thing might fall down! Think about how Bnai Yisrael lived in basic tents for forty years in the desert. They were unafraid, for they knew God was protecting them!
Advancing students
This week, look around your bedroom or your own home. Pick three things you use every day and take for granted, like your bed, the fridge, or the heating. Take a moment to genuinely thank God for each of them!
Learning in Layers
Guiding you through Torah step by step, with insights from the Koren Sacks Humash with translation and commentary by Rabbi Sacks. Each step takes us a little deeper and invites ‘Torah as Conversation,’ just as Rabbi Sacks taught.
“One who blasphemes the Lord’s name shall be put to death. One who takes the life of any human being shall be put to death.”
The laws and punishments of those who commit of injury and murder are placed directly after the story of the blasphemer, a man who committed a sin against God. Why does the Torah suddenly shift to crimes against other people? What does this tell us about the connection between how we treat God and how we treat each other?
“Something is being conveyed here beyond the detailed points of law. The implication seems to be that what begins as an offence in one area, a crossing of boundaries, never ends there. An offence against God eventually leads to assaults against humans. Spiritual sins lead to physical crimes. Sefer Vayikra has been about the sanctity of time, person, and place. The Torah now turns to sanctity of speech.
“Sacred and secular, spiritual and physical offenses against God and crimes against human beings are indissolubly connected. Sacred order and social order go together. Lose one – either one – and you will eventually lose the other. A sense of the sacred is what lifts us above instinct and protects us from our dysfunctional drives. That is the message with which the book of Leviticus draws toward its close.”
Rabbi Sacks explains that disrespectful language, and speaking out against God eventually leads to assaults against humans. Spiritual sins lead to physical crimes. In short, we cannot separate our religious lives from our social lives. Disrespecting boundaries in one area will inevitably cause a breakdown in the other. So by being aware of the sacred, and safeguarding our words, we can ultimately safeguard our actions too.
1. Do you think it is possible to be a good person without a sense of the “sacred”? 2. How does treating God's name with respect help us treat other people with respect? 3. What is one way you can bring a sense of the sacred into your everyday interactions with others?
Faith as a Journey
Family Edition
Emor
Inspired by the teachings of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
The Summary
In its account of the chaggim, this week’s parsha says:
What huts are they talking about? Two great Sages, Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Akiva, disagreed. Rabbi Eliezer said the huts or shelters (succot) refers to the Clouds of Glory that protected the Israelites in the desert. By contrast, Rabbi Akiva said it is literal, the succot were the huts that sheltered us in the midbar.
This debate continues among commentators. Rashi and Ramban favour the Clouds of Glory, seeing Succot as a reminder of miracles. Ibn Ezra and Rashbam take the word “huts” literally. Rashbam explains that the festival of Succot arrives each when the harvest-time is complete and the people are surrounded by the blessings of the land, but this was precisely the time to remind Bnei Yisrael of how they came to be in the Promised Land. As we relive the wilderness years, back when we had no permanent home, we feel a sense of gratitude to God for bringing us to the land. As Moshe warned: when you have plenty, you may forget God and say, “My power has brought me this wealth.”
But a question remains. If the succot were just huts, where is the miracle? The chaggim of Pesch and Shavuot celebrate miraculous moments that God gave to us. Pesach recalls dramatic signs and wonders. Shavuot marks the giving of the Torah. There is nothing exceptional in living in a portable home if you are a nomadic group living in the Sinai desert. It is what Bedouin do to this day. Where then is the miracle?
A beautiful answer comes from Yirmiyahu: “I remember how... you loved Me and followed Me through the desert, through a land not sown.”
Most accounts of the wilderness focus on the people’s complaints. Yirmiyahu instead recalls their faith. They left a known land and followed God into an unknown future. They travelled through danger, trusting that God would guide them. This was not a miracle of what God did for them, but of what they did for God. Perhaps this is Rabbi Akiva’s insight. The greatness of the wilderness years was not the Clouds of Glory, but the miraculous courage of a people without a home, exposed and vulnerable, who continued their journey, believing in God’s protection.
Succot later came to symbolise Jewish history itself. For centuries, Jews lived without permanent security. They were often forced to move, never fully safe, never in a permanent home. Yet they held onto their faith. Even when they could have escaped suffering by giving it up, they did not.
That is why Succot is called zeman simchatenu, “the season of our joy.” Despite uncertainty, Jews celebrated life. With no protection other than faith, they affirmed hope and meaning.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev explained that Pesach has two names: one praising God, the other praising Israel. So too with Succot. Rabbi Eliezer saw God’s miracle. Rabbi Akiva saw the miracle of Israel - their willingness to follow God into the unknown.
Why celebrate this at harvest time? Yirmiyahu gives the answer beautifully: “I remember the devotion of your youth, how - as a bride - you loved Me and followed Me through the desert, through a land not sown.””
Just as, during the month of Tishrei, the Israelites celebrate their harvest, so God celebrates His too – and His harvest is us, the people who, whatever else their failings, have stayed loyal to Heaven’s call for longer, and through a more arduous set of journeys, than any other people on earth.
Around the Shabbat Table
Questions to Ponder
1. Why do we need faith to embark upon a journey without knowing the destination?
2. As a people, do you think we turn to God more when times are hard or when things are working out? Is this lamentable?
3. How can sitting in a flimsy succah make us feel safe?
A Takeaway Thought
There’s a beautiful duality in the chag of Succot. God provided us with miraculous and steadfast protection, like the Clouds of Glory, but as a people we performed a miracle also, by having the courage to follow Him into the unknown. Like the symbol of the succah hut, Jewish life teaches trust, humility, and loyalty even in uncertainty.
Exploring the Parsha
With Sara Lamm
The Parsha in a Nutshell
Parshat Emor contains the Jewish calendar’s complete cycle of chaggim (festivals), mapping out the sacred rhythm of our year.
The parsha begins by outlining the special laws of purity and marriage for the Kohanim, the priests, ensuring they maintain the highest level of sanctity for their service in the Mishkan. The Torah then transitions into the holy times, the chaggim, although it begins with the weekly holiness of Shabbat. It details Pesach in the spring, Shavuot seven weeks later, and the High Holy days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur in the autumn. Finally, it describes Succot, commanding us to dwell in temporary huts for seven days to remember the wilderness journey.
Emor concludes with the laws of the eternal light in the Sanctuary, the showbread, and a sobering narrative about a man who blasphemes God’s name, reminding us that words have immense power and that the sanctity of speech is just as vital as the sanctity of time and space.
Parsha Activity
The Hidden Journey
Clear a safe path across the room. One person is blindfolded while another acts as their guide. The guide cannot touch the blindfolded person; they can only use their voice to give directions around obstacles. Time just how long it takes to cross the room.
Now switch roles and see who is the most trusting traveller and who is the clearest guide. This game is a fun way to experience what it feels like to step into the unknown, relying entirely on someone else’s voice to keep you safe.
A Story for the Ages
The Nail of Faith
Many years ago, a young Rabbi Sacks got married and was excited to build his very first succah in his new home. There was just one problem. He had never built anything before. Not knowing where to start, he felt lucky to have a friend who knew all about construction, and who had built many succot before. Together, they went to the timber yard.
The friend had drawn up architectural plans before he arrived. So he measured everything perfectly, and bought an impressive supply of heavy beams, planks, hinges, and screws. Rabbi Sacks watched his friend in awe. But with no experience with woodwork, he decided to simplify things. He bought just a few sheets of hardboard, some wooden supports, and a bag of nails. The two friends went to their respective homes and each began to build a succah.
Rabbi Sacks would chuckle as he told this part of the story, for as his friend was busy constructing a magnificent, sturdy succah that almost looked like a summer house. Rabbi Sacks just about managed to nail three simple walls together. Then he leaned them against the back wall of his house, securing the corner with another nail. It looked, he thought, like a large packing case. But it would fulfil the mitzva, and he and his wife would be able to eat there on Succot.
On the second night of the chag, a massive storm blew through England. The wind howled and wailed as trees were toppled all over the country. It was the hurricane of the decade! The next morning in shul, everyone was discussing the damage that they had woken up to find. But Rabbi Sacks was sure that his friend’s succah must have survived. After all, it had been constructed so expertly, so beautifully. Sadly, his friend admitted that his study, elaborate succah had completely collapsed. He would have to rebuild.
“Would you like me to help redo your succah too?” asked the friend. “Thank you, but my succah is still standing!” Rabbi Sacks replied.
The friend could not believe it. How could any succah have survived, let alone that built by a beginner? Rabbi Sacks wasn’t sure either. The two men walked home together to investigate, and the friend soon found the answer.
“My beautiful structure stood independently, and took the full force of the wind. Yours was attached to the solid brick wall of your house by this one nail. This nail is what made all the difference. Do you see?” Rabbi Sacks smiled. “Now I understand Succot. You can build the most sophisticated structure, but if it stands alone, a storm will destroy it. On the other hand, if an improvised, frail shelter is joined to something immovable, it too will hold fast. It’s just like faith. This nail is faith.”
Cards & Conversation
Cards & Conversation: Chumash Edition is a new resource. On one side of every parsha card, you’ll find an interesting question to think about and discuss, based on the Torah portion. Flip it over, and you’ll discover an idea from Rabbi Sacks that shines a new light on the parsha.
We are pleased to offer a weekly sample of these cards on these pages, and you can also download the full set, request a pack of your own, and find out more by visiting Cards & Conversation.
A man publicly curses God – and it becomes one of the most serious moments in the Torah.
Why do you think using God’s name with disrespect matters so much?
“Take the one who cursed outside the camp. All the people who heard him shall lay their hands on his head – and then the whole community shall stone him.”
- Rabbi Sacks’ translation of Vayikra 24:14
Rabbi Sacks on Vayikra 24:14 (in the Koren Sacks Humash) continues his commentary, and offers an answer:
“Life itself is holy: people, not just priests; the whole of life, not just edited parts of it. So we have to be holy in the way we eat, the way we conduct our... relationships, and the way we use language. We must not curse even the deaf, let alone our parents, let alone God, because verbal abuse leads to physical abuse.
Blasphemy injures society by desecrating the sacred. That is why, uniquely in this case, the witnesses are to lay their hands on the sinner, to indicate that this affects everyone. It is a sobering narrative, the negative side of the broader picture of the book [Vayikra]: the priestly sanctification of life.”
Parsha in Practice
Mitzva of the Week
Dwelling in the Succah
(Vayikra 23:42)
The Torah commands us to live in huts for seven days to remember the wilderness journey. Every year, and as a whole people, no matter where we live in the world, no matter the weather. And so we do, still today, moving out of our homes to eat and often to sleep in temporary succot.
Building a succah, and dwelling within it reminds us to step out of our secure houses and experience that same vulnerability. The biggest lesson to learn from this is that our ultimate security comes only from God.
“Succot celebrates the dual nature of Jewish faith: the universality of God and the particularity of Jewish existence.” - Rabbi Sacks
Practically Speaking
How will flex your faith?
Rabbi Sacks notes that people often remember God in times of distress but forget Him in times of plenty. When we have fine houses, jobs and savings, it’s easy to start believing we produced all our wealth and success on our own. The succah forces us to leave our solid homes and sit in a vulnerable hut, reminding us that everything we have is a gift.
Faith is like a muscle that needs stretching and strengthening to keep it in the best possible shape. This week, try doing something slightly outside your comfort zone that requires trusting the process. It could be having a difficult conversation you have been avoiding, or simply letting go of the need to plan every single detail of your day. Step into the unknown, just a little bit, and notice how it feels to rely on faith.
Try it Out
Young students
Build a fort in your living room with just blankets, pillows, and chairs. Then sit in it, look around, and see how flimsy the walls are. If someone pushed a chair, the whole thing might fall down! Think about how Bnai Yisrael lived in basic tents for forty years in the desert. They were unafraid, for they knew God was protecting them!
Advancing students
This week, look around your bedroom or your own home. Pick three things you use every day and take for granted, like your bed, the fridge, or the heating. Take a moment to genuinely thank God for each of them!
Learning in Layers
Guiding you through Torah step by step, with insights from the Koren Sacks Humash with translation and commentary by Rabbi Sacks. Each step takes us a little deeper and invites ‘Torah as Conversation,’ just as Rabbi Sacks taught.
Find out more about the Koren Sacks Humash >
From Blasphemy to Murder
“וְנֹקֵב שֵׁם-ה' מוֹת יוּמָת ...כַּגֵּר, כָּאֶזְרָח-בְּנָקְבוֹ-שֵׁם, יוּמָת.”
“One who blasphemes the Lord’s name shall be put to death.
One who takes the life of any human being shall be put to death.”
The laws and punishments of those who commit of injury and murder are placed directly after the story of the blasphemer, a man who committed a sin against God. Why does the Torah suddenly shift to crimes against other people? What does this tell us about the connection between how we treat God and how we treat each other?
“Something is being conveyed here beyond the detailed points of law. The implication seems to be that what begins as an offence in one area, a crossing of boundaries, never ends there. An offence against God eventually leads to assaults against humans. Spiritual sins lead to physical crimes. Sefer Vayikra has been about the sanctity of time, person, and place. The Torah now turns to sanctity of speech.
“Sacred and secular, spiritual and physical offenses against God and crimes against human beings are indissolubly connected. Sacred order and social order go together. Lose one – either one – and you will eventually lose the other. A sense of the sacred is what lifts us above instinct and protects us from our dysfunctional drives. That is the message with which the book of Leviticus draws toward its close.”
Rabbi Sacks explains that disrespectful language, and speaking out against God eventually leads to assaults against humans. Spiritual sins lead to physical crimes. In short, we cannot separate our religious lives from our social lives. Disrespecting boundaries in one area will inevitably cause a breakdown in the other. So by being aware of the sacred, and safeguarding our words, we can ultimately safeguard our actions too.
1. Do you think it is possible to be a good person without a sense of the “sacred”?
2. How does treating God's name with respect help us treat other people with respect?
3. What is one way you can bring a sense of the sacred into your everyday interactions with others?
Of Love and Hate
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Holy Times
Radical Uncertainty
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