When my alma mater, Yeshiva Shaarei Torah, was being built during the 1970s, regular domestic wood was obtained for the building. One of the parents of the yeshivah approached the founding rosh yeshivah, Rabbi Berel Wein, and told him he could obtain better-quality wood from Finland at a cheaper rate. The latter wood was far more durable and was expected to last 150-200 years, as opposed to the domestic wood, which was expected to last only 90 years. Rabbi Wein, however, refused the Finnish wood and insisted that the regular wood was sufficient. He told the surprised parent that in America we build too well and for too long. Things move fast, and it’s hard to make calculations for 200 years from now. We don’t need wood that will outlast our grandchildren’s grandchildren. Historically, there are very few Jewish buildings that remain in Jewish hands after 90 years.

Unfortunately, his words ring true not only in the decimated, smoldering ruins of shuls and yeshivos in Europe, but even in shuls in this country. My zeide, Rabbi Yaakov Meir Kohn zt”l, was the rabbi of Kehillas Anshei Slonim on the Lower East Side, a renowned shul during the 1970s with a capacity exceeding a thousand seats. Today, the building has been converted into an Italian theater, with nary a trace remaining of all the t’filos and Torah learning that took place there, except for the stained-glass windows.

The fragile sukkah is the only true dwelling place a Jew has in exile. An infant in his mother’s arms is unaware if he is in Russia, South Africa, Antarctica, or New York. As far as the child is concerned, his location is in his mother’s arms, and nothing else really matters. The same is true regarding the sukkah. No matter where in the world a Jew constructs his sukkah – in New York, London, Paris, Yerushalayim, or Gaza – he is joined with every other Jew sitting in sukkos throughout the world, under the divine protection of Hashem.

The sukkah contains the holiness of Yerushalayim, as we recite in the evening prayers of Shabbos and Yom Tov: “He (G-d) spreads His sukkah of peace upon us and all of His nation Israel and Yerushalayim.” Ironically, while the location of the sukkah is temporal and fleeting, the holiness and spiritual fortitude with which it infuses us are lingering and transcendent. If only we could have the wisdom to know how to internalize its eternal message.

Rabbi Dani Staum, LMSW, is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbe at Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, NJ. and principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, NY. Rabbi Staum is also a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and at www.strivinghigher.com.