Local Jews Reflect on Homelessness and Hospitality

If God seemed a grim judge to Jewish families who fasted and sought his favor on Yom Kippur Saturday, he shows his “party side” by commanding seven days of joyous outdoor feasting, a holiday that begins at sundown today.

“Take…the fruit of choice trees, branches of palm trees, and the boughs of leafy trees, and willows of the brook; and you shall rejoice before the LORD your God seven days.” (Leviticus 23:40, KJV).

The Feast of Tents (or Booths) called Sukkot (soo-cote), observed throughout the west metro this week, is a celebration beneath temporary dwellings that Jewish families construct in their backyards.

Out of garages come the poles, lattice, bamboo canes and pipes to construct the temporary dwelling. In come the pumpkins, corn stalks, gourds, palm fronds, candles and hanging fruit to decorate the seven-day home with a harvest and hospitality theme.

Sukkot recalls the days when Jews wandered for 40 years in the desert, living in tents, and were led by the fire of God’s presence at night and by a cloud each day.

For Heidi Pergament’s family, who moved from Wayzata to Minnetonka last Thursday, the story of her nomadic ancestors provided an apt backdrop, and a busy week did not eclipse their celebrating.

“We spent most of Sunday putting up our sukkah,” she said with unpacked boxes nearby, “and we’ve already invited guests,” a hallmark of the holiday.

As the Israelites must have, finding flat and sandy ground, the Pergaments fit their “tent” to their new backyard patio, she said.

“We used plywood and 2x4s, with a bamboo-nylon top,” Pergament said.

The Sukkot ceiling is supposed to leave a sight line to the stars. Why? One Jewish family interviewed said it was a reminder that God promised Abraham to make his descendants as numerous as the stars.

“But,” said Pergament smiling, “if you have two Jews, you’ll get three opinions.”

There are at least three ways to proceed from sukkah-to-sukkah as well, from hosting an open house to one resembling trick-or-treating. In the west Metro, Sukkot also includes a scavenger hunt in the Fern Hill neighborhood of St. Louis Park.

“We have 10 or 12 houses in our Sukkah Hop that give out candy and treats,” said Rivka Buchbinder, 13. “One house has chocolate, another cookies or candies. Our family does wafer cookies or pretzels. The cool thing is they give you riddles along the way so you have to guess which house to go to next.”

Kids in Buchbinder’s community are lobbying their parents to sleep overnight in their sukkahs, she said—a tradition among the orthodox but one often short-circuited by parents due to frosty weather in Minnesota.

, 13, and his family are part of a progressive meal in a five-block area involving about 10 houses.

“Somebody has soup, somebody has the main entree, and somebody has the side dish. My mom makes tons of kosher deserts,” Meirovitz said. “We serve hot chocolate and coffee, sit in the sukkah and play games.”

While fun will be had by all during today’s festivities, the symbolism of the makeshift hut is, for some, inescapable—furnishing a sobering reminder of the insecurity of modern life.

“Ironically, spending time temporarily in a flimsy little hut helps us appreciate what we have and what we’re in control of and what we’re not in control of,” said Nina Samuels, Adult Learning Director at Adath Jeshurun Congregation in Minnetonka. “We may not feel vulnerable ourselves, but we have a history of being vulnerable as Jews and we need to reflect on that history and act on it and reach out always. These days everyone is vulnerable.”

Sukkot is also a time to celebrate the land’s abundance by inviting guests to dinner, and to humbly remember harder times and the futility of placing security in homes and possessions, explained Luke Weisberg of .

“When I put up our sukkah each year, I make a direct connection to those who are unemployed or marginally employed and in danger of losing what they have,” Weisberg said.

This year, due to a shaky economy, that threat is close to home.

“I have a brother, cousins, nieces and nephews who are out of work,” Weisberg said.  “They could run out of money and become precariously housed. There was a time when the Jewish people were purposely nomadic, when this was our lifestyle, but today that’s not the case.”

As a consultant in workforce and neighborhood development, Weisberg has been involved in Heading Home Hennepin, which is at the halfway mark of its 10-year plan to end homelessness in the county.

“The numbers this fall are sobering,” he said. “In the past, there was more often a precipitating event or a dramatic behavioral issue you could point to. But today, families’ stories are, ‘I’m running out of money. Period.’ It’s phenomenal.”

Suddenly, needing a makeshift home is all too conceivable for Weisberg.

“As we build the sukkah, I’m thinking, ‘This is where we go. This is what would happen,’” he said.

The tradition arouses sympathy in Weisberg for helping the homeless who may have no choice. “Let’s hope that this Sukkot not only causes us to pause and reflect, but moves us to action,” he said.