Take the verse from the Song of Songs, Shir HaShirim, "How fair are your feet in sandals [bane’alim]," with its slightly unusual plural form, "sandals" [ne’alim]. What could that possibly mean?
Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a classic midrashic commentary on the Song of Songs, sees this verse as a reference to Passover and Sukkot. Rabbi Hama ben Rabbi Hanina offers a beautiful analogy. Imagine two merchants entering a new town. To avoid undercutting each other and creating chaos, they decide, "You open your shop one week, and I'll open mine the next." Clever, right?
In a similar vein, Sukkot, which commemorates God protecting the Israelites in the wilderness after the Exodus from Egypt, could have been placed immediately after Passover. But, as Midrash HaMevoar points out, separating them allows each festival to be celebrated with greater focus and joy. It's about savoring each moment, each experience.
Rabbi Hananya son of Rabbi Aivi takes this idea further. He emphasizes that the verse doesn't say "in a sandal [bana’al]," but rather "in sandals [bane’alim]" – two closings, one for Passover and one for Sukkot. He pictures a beautiful exchange between God and Israel: "You close before Me on the Festival [of Sukkot]," God says, "and I close before you on Passover."
What does this "closing" mean? On Sukkot, as Matnot Kehuna explains, the last of the three pilgrimage festivals, you finish the harvest season and offer thanks. And what does God do in response? As the text continues, God says: "I open, blow winds, elevate clouds, cause rain to fall, cause the sun to shine, cause plants to grow, ripen fruit, and set a table for each and every one according to his needs, and [provide] each and every body all that it lacks." It's a divine act of provision, ensuring sustenance and abundance for all.
And on Passover? "I close before you on Passover," God says, "and you go out, reap, thresh, winnow, and perform all your needs in the field, and you find it filled with blessings." God holds back the rain, allowing the harvest to proceed smoothly, filled with blessing. It’s a divine act of restraint, allowing us to actively participate in the process of reaping the rewards.
There's even a discussion about Atzeret, assembly. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi points out that Atzeret of Sukkot (Shemini Atzeret) should have been fifty days after Sukkot, just like Shavuot (also called Atzeret in rabbinic literature, as we see in Mishna Rosh Hashana 1:2) is fifty days after Passover. So why the discrepancy?
The answer, according to this midrash, lies in the changing seasons. The transition from winter to summer after Passover makes it easier for people to travel to Jerusalem for Shavuot. But the transition from summer to winter after Sukkot? That’s a different story. The roads become difficult, the journey arduous.
The text compares it to a king with daughters, some living nearby and others far away. They all want to visit him. The king reasons, "Those who live close can come and go as they please. But those who live far away can't travel so easily. So, while we're all together, let's have a one-day festival and celebrate!" So too, God, understanding the difficulties of travel, condenses the celebration into Shemini Atzeret, ensuring everyone can participate. Moses then cautions Israel, "On the eighth day it shall be an assembly for you" (Numbers 29:35), emphasizing the importance of this final gathering.
And so, we return to our opening verse: "How fair are your feet in sandals." It's not just about footwear; it's about the rhythm of the year, the interplay between God and humanity, the careful consideration for our needs and abilities. It's about finding the beauty and meaning in the way our traditions are structured, and recognizing the divine hand that shapes our experience. Perhaps next time we celebrate Passover or Sukkot, we can take a moment to appreciate not just the holiday itself, but also its place within the grand tapestry of the Jewish year.