Acharei Mos-Kedoshim: The Strength of a Sukkah
בַּיּ֣וֹם הַה֔וּא אָקִ֛ים אֶת־סֻכַּ֥ת דָּוִ֖יד הַנֹּפֶ֑לֶת וְגָדַרְתִּ֣י אֶת־פִּרְצֵיהֶ֗ן וַהֲרִֽסֹתָיו֙ אָקִ֔ים וּבְנִיתִ֖יהָ כִּימֵ֥י עוֹלָֽם׃
“On that day, I will raise up the fallen booth of David; I will repair their breaches and raise up its ruins, and I will build it up as in the days of old.” (Amos 9:11)
The closing words of Sefer Amos offer a vision of restoration and hope—a time when the broken remnants of Jewish sovereignty will be rebuilt. Yet the imagery is striking: the Navi refers not to a palace or fortress, but to a sukkah—a fragile, temporary structure. Why this unusual metaphor?
The Maharal of Prague (Netzach Yisrael 35) explains that kingdoms are often compared to houses—structures that imply strength, permanence, and security. As long as a royal house stands, its rule endures. But once that house falls, even if a new one rises, it is no longer the same. The continuity is broken.
A sukkah, however, is different. By definition, it is not built to last. It is erected seasonally, exposed to the elements, taken down, and rebuilt again. And yet, that is precisely what gives the sukkah its unique power. It doesn’t pretend to be indestructible. It survives not by resisting change, but by returning again and again.
This, says the Maharal, is the metaphor for the Jewish people. While other nations may appear solid and enduring, when they collapse, they vanish from history. The Jewish people, by contrast, endure. We may fall, but we rise. We are built not for immovability, but for resilience.
The Midrash connects this idea to the verse in Micha (7:8): כִּ֥י נָפַ֖לְתִּי קָ֑מְתִּי—“Though I have fallen, I rise again.” This is our national refrain. Exile, destruction, and persecution have visited our people throughout the generations, but never finality. We bend, but do not break. We fall, but never fail.
The Navi Amos continues his prophecy with a powerful vision of return:
וְשַׁבְתִּי֮ אֶת־שְׁב֣וּת עַמִּ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵל֒ וּבָנ֞וּ עָרִ֤ים נְשַׁמּוֹת֙ וְיָשָׁ֔בוּ—“I will return the captivity of My people Israel, and they will rebuild desolate cities and settle them.” These words speak directly to the modern miracle of Jewish return and restoration. After centuries of wandering, we have witnessed with our own eyes the rebuilding of the sukkah—the return to our land, the revival of our language, the replanting of our fields, the defense of our people.
But this prophecy is not only about physical return. It is also about spiritual renewal. The sukkah of David is a symbol not just of political sovereignty, but of the values, Torah, and connection to Hashem that give us our identity. To rebuild it is to reaffirm who we are.
The sukkah may appear fragile—but in its simplicity lies its strength. It reminds us that even in vulnerability, there is endurance. Even in exile, there is return. And even when the winds blow, the sukkah stands.