Rabbi Abahu offers a powerful insight into this very question, drawing from the book of Exodus. "Three pilgrimage festivals you shall hold a festival to Me during the year" (Exodus 23:14). The Holy One, blessed be He, established these three pilgrimage festivals – Pesach (Passover), Shavuot (Weeks), and Sukkot (Tabernacles) – and according to Rabbi Abahu in Shemot Rabbah, it was thanks to the merit of our patriarchs. See, they wouldn't come before the Holy One, blessed be He, empty-handed. They always brought something of themselves, a sacrifice, an offering.
And because of this, in the merit of our forefathers, Israel continues to observe these three pilgrimage festivals. It’s not just about following a rule; it’s about honoring that ancient connection. And, just as our ancestors did, we too are commanded not to come before God empty-handed (Exodus 23:15). We bring our prayers, our intentions, our very selves.
But there's more. The commentary Etz Yosef adds a beautiful layer to this idea. The very fact that we haven’t forgotten the Torah, even after all this time, is also a testament to the merit of our forefathers. Even now, through suffering and challenges, the Torah remains with us. As the prophet Isaiah proclaims: “They will not move from your mouth, or from the mouth of your descendants, or from the mouth of the descendants of your descendants…” (Isaiah 59:21). It's a promise of continuity, a thread that connects us to something bigger than ourselves.
Rabbi Abahu uses a powerful analogy to illustrate this idea. Imagine someone with a case before the king. They need advocates, people who will plead on their behalf. Similarly, when we perform mitzvot (good deeds), when we are learned and perform acts of kindness, we create our own advocates in the heavenly court. When the accuser stands to prosecute, these advocates stand opposite him, speaking in our favor. "A man’s giving expands him" (Proverbs 18:16), meaning our generosity, especially towards the poor, becomes our advocate.
That's why the Psalmist sings, "Happy is one who attends to the indigent; [the Lord will deliver him in times of trouble]" (Psalms 41:2). Our actions, our compassion, they resonate beyond the here and now. They become a shield, a protection, a testament to the enduring power of kindness.
So, the next time you celebrate a Jewish holiday, remember this: you're not just following a tradition. You're participating in a legacy that stretches back to our patriarchs, a legacy of connection, of learning, and of unwavering commitment. You're bringing something to the table, ensuring that the flame of Torah and tradition continues to burn brightly for generations to come. You are becoming an advocate.