Autumn has always been my favorite season. Even after an unusually hot summer, the temperatures have begun to drop, and I noticed the first leaves beginning to turn. Chattanooga is finally being blessed with crisp mornings and warm afternoons. Soon, I hope, we will witness the breathtaking beauty of our mountains and trees transformed into brilliant shades of orange, yellow, and red. There is a freshness in the air that signals the arrival of a new season. The autumn light seems to set the colors aglow with an extra measure of radiance. The abundance of nature and the fall harvest naturally draw my heart and mind to Sukkot.
There is a beautiful custom associated with Sukkot called Ushpizin, an Aramaic word meaning “guests.” According to this tradition, during the festival we symbolically welcome seven biblical ancestors into our sukkah: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, and David. Each knew something of displacement and uncertainty. Each, at some point in his life, was a wanderer, a stranger, a refugee of sorts, or someone far from home.
Traditionally, the ushpizin were all men. In more recent years, many have expanded the custom to welcome ushpizot, seven biblical women whose lives embody courage, faith, wisdom, and resilience, such as Sarah, Miriam, Deborah, Hannah, Abigail, Huldah, and Esther. We might expand the circle even further, inviting into our sukkah people from more recent generations whose lives and values continue to inspire us. Whom would you invite as an honored guest into your sukkah? Whose presence, wisdom, courage, or example would you want beside you beneath its fragile roof?
The custom of Ushpizin reminds us that hospitality is about far more than inviting people we already know to share a meal. Jewish hospitality asks something more of us. It calls us to notice the person standing at the edge of the circle and invite them in. It asks us to extend welcome in real and tangible ways to newcomers in our city, to those who may feel like strangers, to neighbors in need, and to anyone seeking connection and belonging.
Here in Chattanooga, that call feels especially relevant. Our city continues to grow as people arrive from across the country and around the world. Some come for opportunities in health care, education, manufacturing, and technology. Others are drawn by the extraordinary quality of life Chattanooga offers: the beauty of our mountains and rivers, miles of hiking and biking trails, and countless opportunities to enjoy the outdoors. Some arrive as refugees, seeking safety and the possibility of a new beginning. Others come to be closer to children and grandchildren as they enter a new stage of life. Whatever brings someone here, arriving in a new place means searching not only for a house, a job, or the familiar rhythms of daily life. It also means searching for community.
Sukkot challenges us to ask: How can we open our doors, our hearts, and our congregation more fully? How do we make certain that those who enter our community do not simply feel that they have been admitted, but that they are genuinely welcomed, seen, and valued?
Perhaps that is one reason the sukkah is such a powerful symbol. We construct it with intentional vulnerability. 
Its walls are temporary. Its roof allows rain, wind, sunlight, and starlight to enter. It cannot completely shelter us from the outside world.
That openness reminds us of two essential truths. First, life is fragile and fleeting. Second, what ultimately sustains us is not the strength of the structures surrounding us, but rather the relationships we create within them. Sharing meals, laughter, stories, and friendship inside the sukkah creates a warmth no weather can diminish. Companionship and community sustain us in ways that even the sturdiest walls and most secure roofs cannot.
The sukkah we build at Mizpah Congregation carries this same spirit. It is more than a temporary shelter. It is a symbol of the communal home we seek to create together. Open to the sky above and open to all who enter, it reminds us that our congregation, too, must remain open in every direction. There should always be room for one more person at our table, one more chair in our circle, one more individual searching for a place to belong.
Perhaps this is the radical hospitality of Sukkot: not simply opening the door, but creating a community in which people know that their presence matters. A community in which they know that others will celebrate their joys, share their sorrows, and care about what happens in their lives.
Sukkot begins this evening, September 25. You are warmly invited to join us for our Erev Shabbat/Erev Sukkot service in the sukkah in our garden, followed immediately by our “Pizza in the Hut” dinner. Please see the flyer below for details. You are also invited to visit our beautiful sukkah throughout the week.
Chag Sameach. May this Sukkot season inspire us to open wide our sukkot, our homes, our hearts, and our lives, and to ensure that all who enter know the embrace of community.
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Sharon L. Sobel