Sukkot is a season overflowing with meaning. It’s a time of joy, gratitude, and celebration — a time when we thank HaShem for His abundant provision. The harvest has come in, the storehouses are full, and the people rejoice in God’s faithfulness. But Sukkot also looks forward — beyond the fields and the fruit, beyond the blessings of this life — to the ultimate harvest, the final ingathering. The prophets envisioned a day when the Holy One of Israel would gather all nations, when the knowledge of the LORD would fill the earth as the waters cover the sea. It is a vision not just of blessing, but of redemption — of Heaven on Earth.
According to an ancient tradition cited by Rashi, the very heavens themselves are made of fire and water — esh and mayim — together forming shamayim. These are elements that in our world seem opposed, even destructive to one another. Yet in the heavenly realm, they coexist in perfect harmony. Fire and water — passion and peace, judgment and mercy, spirit and truth — united under God’s perfect order. That image alone holds a deep mystery: that what appears to us as irreconcilable on earth finds its harmony in Heaven. And Sukkot, this Feast of Ingathering, calls us to live in anticipation of that harmony — to become, even now, vessels through which Heaven touches Earth.
One of the most beautiful and symbolic rituals of the ancient Temple during Sukkot was the Simchat Beit HaSho’evah — the Rejoicing at the Place of the Water Drawing. The Talmud tells us that whoever had not witnessed this celebration had never truly experienced joy. Every evening, the people would gather in the Temple courts. Musicians played, Levites sang, and men of piety danced through the night with torches in their hands. On the seventh day, Hoshana Rabbah, the High Priest would descend to the Pool of Shiloam, fill a golden pitcher with water, and carry it back to the Temple amid great rejoicing. There, he would circle the altar seven times and pour out the water as an offering before HaShem. The water flowed down and around the altar, a symbol of divine abundance and a prophetic act of hope.
It was as if the priest was saying: Let the floods of righteousness and the streams of salvation overflow upon the earth. Isaiah’s words must have echoed in their hearts: “For the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea” (Isaiah 11:9). And again, “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation” (Isaiah 12:3). The water-pouring ritual was both memory and prophecy — remembering God’s provision in the wilderness and anticipating His ultimate redemption, when living water would flow from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth.
But Sukkot was also a festival of light. In another ritual, thousands of torches and great golden lamps were lit in the Temple courts, illuminating the entire city of Jerusalem. The rabbis said there was not a courtyard in Jerusalem that was not lit by the light of the Temple. The light symbolized the Shekhinah, the divine presence dwelling among the people, and recalled the words of the prophet: “It is too small a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob… I will also make you a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6). The light of Israel was always meant to shine outward — a light for all peoples.
It is in this setting, during Sukkot, that the Gospels record Yeshua standing in the Temple courts, using the very symbols of the festival to reveal His identity and mission. On the last and greatest day of the feast, Hoshana Rabbah, Yeshua stood and cried out, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water’” (Yochanon 7:37–38). He was declaring Himself to be the fulfillment of that ancient promise — the wellspring of salvation from which living water flows. And not long after, as the light of the Temple blazed behind Him, He proclaimed, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (Yochanon 8:12).
Fire and water — light and life — Yeshua embodied both. The living water that cleanses, refreshes, and gives new life; the divine fire that purifies, enlightens, and empowers. The very elements of heaven are united in Him.
But the message does not end there. For He also said to His followers, “You are the light of the world.” And He promised that those who believe in Him would have rivers of living water flowing from within them. The symbols of Sukkot are not just about the Messiah; they are about His people. You and I are invited to be living reflections of Heaven on Earth — vessels of divine light and living water in a world that is parched and dark.
Now, we cannot create light. We can only reflect it. Even in physics, light itself remains something of a mystery. Scientists ask, “Is it a wave or a particle?” And the answer, strangely enough, is both — depending on how it is observed. So too with the light of the Spirit: it transcends categories. We cannot define it, but we can refract it. Just as a prism breaks pure light into a spectrum of color, each of us refracts the divine light uniquely — through our personalities, our callings, our circumstances. One shines compassion, another justice, another creativity, another endurance. Together, we form a living rainbow of God’s presence in the world.
And the same is true of the living water. We are not the source — but when the Spirit flows within us, it cannot help but flow through us. It spills over into our relationships, our communities, our acts of mercy and generosity. Wherever that water flows, life returns. Ezekiel saw a vision of such a river — flowing from the Temple, growing deeper and wider, transforming the desert into a garden. That river begins in the heart of every believer who allows the Spirit to flow freely.
Sukkot calls us to rejoice, not only in the harvest that has been, but in the harvest that is to come — when the Holy One will dwell fully among His people, when Heaven and Earth will be one. Until that day, we live as signs of that coming reality: bearers of divine light, carriers of living water, sparks and streams of Heaven on Earth.
So as we dwell in our sukkot — fragile, temporary shelters — let us remember that they point to something eternal. The God who brings fire and water together in the heavens is making His dwelling among us. And through the light we reflect and the living water we pour out, we invite others to taste and see that the LORD is good — until the day when the whole earth is filled with His glory as the waters cover the sea.