The final Torah reading before the festival of Sukkot, Haazinu, is a song of warning. Moses, nearing his death, calls heaven and earth as witnesses to the covenant — and then lays bare the consequences if Israel abandons its moral anchor. When the nation becomes “fat,” reveling in abundance and forgetting the source of its blessings, punishment will follow. Prosperity, once unmoored from gratitude and purpose, becomes the seed of ruin.

Just a few days later, on Shabbat Chol HaMoed Sukkot, Jews read Kohelet (Ecclesiastes). Its message mirrors Haazinu but turns inward: even the individual who possesses everything — wisdom, power, wealth, prestige, pleasure — finds himself hollow. “I made great works… I built houses and planted vineyards for myself,” writes King Solomon in Chapter 2. Yet he concludes, “It was all futile and a pursuit of wind; there was no real value under the sun.”

The parallel between Haazinu and Kohelet is striking and the proximity of their readings is seemingly deliberate. One warns the nation about collective moral decay born of excess and God’s punishment; the other exposes the personal emptiness that comes when abundance replaces meaning. Together they form a spiritual counterpoint on Sukkot — the holiday when Jews leave their sturdy homes to dwell in fragile huts, to remember that joy comes not from walls or wealth but from faith, family, and divine connection.

A life disconnected from those simple pleasures — from loving one’s spouse, nurturing one’s family, and walking humbly with God — cannot sustain happiness. Unmoored excess may glitter for a moment, but like Solomon’s “pursuit of wind,” it slips through fingers, leaving behind only the passing echo of what might have been joy.

And so, we sit beneath the s’chach of the sukkah, exposed to wind and light, reminded of the temporary nature of all possessions. The walls sway, the roof leaks, yet the heart is full. In simplicity, vulnerability, gratitude and “connectedness,” we rediscover the only abundance that truly endures — the shelter of faith and the warmth of those we love.