The Simcha of Water

Sukkos is called “Zman simchaseinu,” the time of our joy. We understand why Sukkos is a Yom Tov of simcha. We sit in the sukkah, we take the lulav and esrog, we spend time with our families and guests, and we celebrate the Yom Tov. But there is something interesting about the greatest celebration that took place in the Beis Hamikdash on Sukkos. Chazal tell us, “מי שלא ראה שמחת בית השואבה לא ראה שמחה מימיו.” The Simchas Beis Hashoevah was the greatest simcha imaginable, and the focus of that celebration was the drawing of water for ניסוך המים.

Water? Water isn't exactly the first thing we think of when someone announces that the party is about to begin. Wine has a taste. Wine has an effect. Wine is naturally associated with simcha, as the pasuk says, “ויין ישמח לבב אנוש.” But water is... water.

So why was water the source of such tremendous simcha?

Perhaps there is a deeper definition of simcha here. There is a type of simcha that comes from understanding. I understand something, everything suddenly falls into place, and I feel good. There is another kind of simcha that comes from inspiration. I hear a beautiful idea, I daven with extra kavannah, or I experience a moment of closeness to Hashem, and I feel uplifted.

But there is another kind of connection to Hashem that doesn't depend on either understanding or feeling. It is the simple knowledge that I belong to Him.

That is what water represents. Water has no particular taste. We don't drink it because we are looking for an experience. We drink it because we need it. It is simple, basic and necessary. We don't have to be excited about water for it to keep us alive.

And perhaps that is why it represents such a deep level of simcha. The deepest connection to Hashem is not necessarily the one we feel most strongly. It is the connection that remains even when we don't feel anything at all.

The seforim hakedoshim explain that the avodah of Sukkos moves from something that surrounds us to something that becomes part of us. When we sit in the sukkah, we are surrounded by kedushah. The sukkah is an אור מקיף. It encompasses us even when we don't necessarily feel anything.

That is an important limud. We tend to measure our ruchniyus by our feelings. If I walked out of davening inspired, I assume I accomplished something. If I learned something and felt a real geshmak, I feel that something happened. But if I sat in the sukkah and didn't feel anything special, I can wonder whether anything happened at all.

The sukkah tells us that we don't have to feel the kedushah for it to be real. You walk into the sukkah, and you are surrounded by Hashem's mitzvah. Whether you feel it or not.

This is also part of the avodah of the daled minim. The sukkah surrounds us with kedushah, while the daled minim are something we actually take into our hands and hold onto. The kedushah that first surrounds us begins to become something פנימי, something we carry with us.

The next step is for that kedushah to become part of us. What surrounds us begins to enter into us. The inspiration doesn't remain in the sukkah. It becomes part of the way we think, the way we speak and the way we live.

This also answers something fascinating about Simchas Beis Hashoevah. Chazal tell us that it began on the second night of Sukkos. On the first night, we had entered the sukkah. We were surrounded by the kedushah. On the second night, we were already beginning to take that kedushah inward. Now we could appreciate the simcha of the water, the simple connection that doesn't depend on taste, excitement or inspiration.

That may be why the greatest simcha is connected specifically to water. The deepest connection to Hashem is not dependent on having a spiritual “high.” Sometimes we daven and feel something. Sometimes we learn and feel inspired. And sometimes we do what we are supposed to do and feel... mamish nothing.

It still counts. Hashem is still there. The mitzvah is still real. And our connection is still intact.

We spend so much of our lives wanting answers. Why did this happen? Why didn't that work out? Why is this taking so long? Why is someone else where I thought I would be? There are questions we need to ask, and there are things we should try to understand. But there is also a point where emunah means saying, “I don't understand, but I know Who is running the show.”

There is tremendous simcha in that.

Sukkos comes and gives us seven days to live inside that idea. We leave our homes and enter a simple little sukkah. We sit there, eat, learn, talk, sing and have guests. We may not feel anything extraordinary every time we walk through the door.

But something extraordinary is happening. We are surrounded by kedushah. We take the daled minim into our hands. And slowly, that kedushah can become part of us.

Wine has a taste. Water doesn't. Yet on Sukkos, the water is what makes us dance.

Because the greatest simcha is not necessarily the simcha of understanding everything or feeling something all the time. It is the simcha of knowing that even when I don't understand, I know Who I belong to.

And if we are being honest, that is worth more than any “high” will ever be.