Building the Masach (Screen) — The Symbolism of Sukkot
“…This is the meaning of making the thatch from the waste of barn and winery. Baal HaSulam explained that Goren (barn) comes from the words Ger Anochi (I am a foreigner), and Yekev (winery) from the words, Nokev Shem Hashem (mentioning the name of the Lord). To interpret the words of Baal HaSulam, the thatch is the shadow of faith, called “faith above reason.” This is opposite to reason, for reason brings him into waste, to barn, and to winery.
That is, from the perspective of reason, the way the corporeal eyes see it, there is room for waste of barn and winery. From this in itself he makes a shadow and sits under it. That is, he makes for himself a seat out of all those lowest and worst things, and through the waste observes the Mitzva (commandment) of Sukkah.
Most importantly, he derives joy from this Mitzva because faith above reason is called “joy of Mitzva.” It follows that all the quandaries and questions that exist in reality are corrected in the Sukkah, for without them it is impossible to make a thatch.
And one must be a good guest in this regard and say, “All that the landlord has done, he has done only for me.” That is, one must say with the mouth that everything that is happening in the world — that there are people who suffer and are mistreated — is only so that I can receive the good, meaning to keep faith…
…It follows from all the above that the thatch, called “shade,” is made specifically from the waste of barn and winery. This is the meaning of what we say in the prayer inside the Sukkah, “And to take refuge from rain and torrent.” It means that faith saves a person from all the harm doers, since harm doers are alien thoughts and alien views, and faith is built specifically on waste. Only in this way is there refuge from rain and torrent; otherwise, one follows the trends of the world…”
(Rabash, Letter 36)
The Next Stage of Correction
After the awe-filled silence of Yom Kippur — when we refrain from receiving in any form, fasting from the use of our will to receive — we step into Sukkot, the festival of building. The previous restriction was a withdrawal, a sacred pause, the decision not to use our innate desire for self-pleasure. Now begins the work of transformation: learning how to use the same desire, yet for the sake of bestowal.
Our will to receive is our essence; we cannot discard it. What we can do is cover it, redirect it, and sanctify it. This covering — the sekhakh — is both a protection and a transformation. It is the spiritual screen (Masach), the shelter of faith above reason, the place where we choose not to receive directly from the Light, but to receive only as much as we can bestow.
Thus, Sukkot is not a holiday of negation but of construction. It is the gentle beginning of building the soul, of learning to sit beneath the shade of faith rather than the blinding light of self-knowledge.
The Screen as a Shield and a Bridge
In the wisdom of Kabbalah, the Masach (screen) is the power of resistance to one’s own nature. It is not suppression, but transformation. As Baal HaSulam explains, the screen is built upon the restriction (Tzimtzum): the firm decision not to receive for oneself. From there, one learns to use the will to receive for the sake of the Giver — to eat from the table of the Host not for self-enjoyment, but to give Him pleasure.
This is why Sukkot is also called “the shade of faith.” We dwell under a roof woven from humble waste — the remnants of our reason, the broken stalks of our pride, the dry reeds of our intellect. These symbolize the debris of egoistic calculation that we no longer wish to rely upon. We build our spiritual covering out of this “waste,” and under it, paradoxically, we find life, protection, and joy.
When we build this Masach, we take all that is low and rejected in us — the weaknesses, the doubts, the recurring egoistic motives — and we transform them into material for the roof of holiness. This is the true “waste of the barn and winery.” From that which our reason calls “refuse,” we make the very shelter through which the Creator’s Light can safely enter.
Faith Above Reason — The Shade of Joy
The Sukkah is not a palace of perfection but a fragile dwelling of humility. It teaches us to find joy not in clarity or comfort, but in faith above reason — the faith that shines from within the shade.
Rabash calls this “the joy of Mitzva” — a joy born not from receiving but from being able to rise above the dictates of reason and still love, still bestow, still sing. Every doubt, every confusion, every inner “storm” becomes the raw material from which we weave our sekhakh. “All the quandaries and questions that exist in reality,” he says, “are corrected in the Sukkah.”
Faith is not born from strength but from the recognition of weakness. It is built upon the waste of human logic — the point where the mind surrenders and the heart begins to trust.
The Sukkah as a Collective Soul
The true Sukkah is not a structure of wood and branches — it is the space of connection between souls. Each person’s Masach joins with others to form a single canopy: a shared roof of mutual bestowal.
When we gather under this spiritual covering, we create the first vessel of faith (Kli de Emuna) — a vessel that can hold the Light of Hassadim, the gentle Light of mercy and giving. This is not yet love; it is preparation for love. It is not yet reception for the sake of bestowal, but bestowal for the sake of bestowal — a training in equivalence of form with the Creator.
Under the sekhakh, we learn to relate to one another only to strengthen, to support, to hold one another steady on the path. “When I want nothing to receive from the friends,” said Rav Laitman, “but only to have the strength to strengthen them — that is called rising above the restriction between us.”
Thus, the Sukkah becomes a spiritual laboratory of the Ten — a sacred microcosm of humanity. The shade over our heads is the Masach we build together, and within it the Creator begins to dwell.
The Temporary Dwelling and the Eternal Bond
Why is the Sukkah temporary? Because the screen we build now is only the first, fragile layer of correction. Like a traveler’s shelter in the wilderness, it is meant to protect us from the storm of egoism until we can build something permanent within our hearts.
But paradoxically, what begins as temporary becomes the eternal dwelling of the soul. For once faith above reason is attained, it never departs. The Masach becomes the vessel of connection to the Infinite — the bridge between the created being and the Creator.
This is why Sukkot culminates in the vision of the Sukkah of Peace (Sukkat Shalom) — the collective soul of humanity united under one screen. Peace (Shalom) in Hebrew means wholeness (Shlemut). It is the final state in which every part of creation, from the lowest to the highest, receives according to its ability to bestow. The true Sukkah is thus the “Sukkah of David,” the restored Malchut — the will to receive that has been transformed into the vessel of bestowal.
The Joy of the Guest — The Creator as Host
When the Creator becomes our Host, we, His guests, learn how to receive properly. We sit beneath the sekhakh and partake of His abundance — but only with the intention of giving Him pleasure.
As Rabash writes, this is the meaning of being a “good guest”: to see that everything the Landlord has done, He has done only for me — not for my egoistic benefit, but so that I might serve Him with faith above reason. In this way, the meal in the Sukkah becomes the symbol of reception for the sake of bestowal, the highest act of love between Creator and creation.
When the Light of Hochma (wisdom) shines through the screen of Hassadim (mercy), the two become one. The joy that fills the heart is the joy of the Creator Himself dwelling among us.
The Building Never Ends
To build the Masach is not a one-time act but a lifelong process. Each day, new desires arise from the shattering, demanding to be covered, sanctified, and transformed. Each moment we are asked anew: will you use this desire for yourself or for the sake of the whole?
Thus, Sukkot is both a festival and a living symbol of the entire path of correction. We build, and we dwell, and we rebuild again — until the shade becomes Light, and the temporary dwelling becomes the eternal home of love.
When the Sukkah of all humanity is completed, the Creator Himself will be our Guest, and we will discover that He was never outside at all — He was the roof above us, the Light between us, and the joy within us all along.
“And His shade I desired and sat, and His fruit was sweet to my palate.”
(Song of Songs 2:3)