Friday, April 13, 2012

Keeping the Sabbath in Israel and at Home


Pilgrimages point to directions we want to continue to follow in our lives after the pilgrimage is over. In particular, my eyes were opened to the grace filled way that Israelis keep the Sabbath. A person of faith knows that on the Sabbath day, work should come to a halt, and the day should be devoted to praising G-d, and spending time in relationships.  This has become theory in the North East even though we all know that it is healthier to have a Sabbath day one day of the week. Through old friends, Hope and Ira Solomon, I spent Shabbos with Ira’s brother’s family, now Hasidic Jews living in Israel. 

Hasidic Judaism is a branch of Orthodox Judaism that began in Eastern Europe in the 18th century.  It is charismatic and mystical. Its worship is joyful and vibrant with singing, dancing and uninhibited davening. It emphasizes holiness of living, strong faith and an emotional connection with G-d.

It was somewhat daunting to spend the weekend in a strict kosher home. I was afraid that I would use the wrong silverware, or say something inappropriate during a ritual. Before boarding a bus that would take me to the Moshav (a community that works together either for economic or spiritual reasons) I put on a long black skirt and a white scarf over my head out of respect for their modest tradition. 

The first thing you notice about the Solomon’s home is that G-d seems to always be on everyone’s lips.  The men pray three times a day in the synagogue, and the women exercise their spirituality in the care for their family, in cooking, and in their general networking amidst the community, but it is more intrinsic than these outward forms of religion. Every moment of the day is sanctified in some way; G-d or Hashem, is placed first in their lives. Even the casual conversation between people at the Moshav, or husband and wife mention Hashem in every encounter. 

The clothing takes on a G-d glorifying role too. When you wear modest clothing your ego becomes secondary to the purpose of your life which is to glorify G-d. To look at a Hasidic Jew, who often wear the large fur hats, and the women’s hair is completely covered, you might think they might be unaware of what is going on in the world – not so. Dina drinks “green juice” for breakfast, after her yoga workout. Her cooking could hardly be called bland, with copious amounts of garlic and exotic spices like Zaatar.  

As Friday sunset was approaching there was quite a bit of preparation to be completed. Dina had to prepare the food for each of the requisite three meals of Shabbos. She effortlessly made six loaves of bread, two for each meal, that are used for the Kiddush ceremony, the blessing before meals. (This represents the double portion of manna G-d gave the Hebrew people in the desert for the Sabbath.) She then had to make household preparations for the weekend so that no work would be done on the Sabbath. The automatic hot water dispenser, the food warmer, which lights would be on or off for the duration of Shabbos and anything else that was necessary for the weekend. 

There was great anticipation in the household about the sun setting and Shabbos beginning. When the time came, the men had already left for the synagogue and the women brought the Sabbath into the home by lighting candles, moving their hands over the flames to draw the light in. Dina then turned to me and said “Now everything is different, we are in God’s time and place.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                        
The women go to the synagogue a little later than the men. I asked Dina if she would tie a scarf around my head the correct way so that no hair showed. The look was a little extreme to me, but maybe that helped me transition to another space and time. Attending the service were a number of young people on their birthright trip. They were at the Moshav to experience what Moshav Modi’in is famous for, music and joyful worship. We sang and danced and clapped our hands, expressing the ecstasy, the elation, the bliss of being in G-d’s presence.  As is customary in Orthodox Judaism, we were separated from the men by the lacey curtain at the back of the synagogue giving the women the opportunity to schmooze and care for children and grandchildren. We could see in, but the men essentially had their backs to us. Women, as we know from the story of Eve, are too much of a distraction. 

We walk back to the house and gather for the first meal of Shabbos. The table is set with candles, wine, and two covered Challah bread. Ben Zion Solomon chants a blessing over a Kiddush cup filled with wine until it overflows and some of the liquid spills onto a plate beneath the cup. After the wine, we ritually wash our hands (five splashes on each hand) before eating the bread.  Ben Zion takes the Challah bread, slices them, says another blessing, and then everyone eats a piece of Challah dipped in salt. We then proceed to eat a five course meal.

The next morning I wake up fully rested. There is no urgency about the day, after all we are not permitted to do anything but pray and eat and be with friends and family. The main rooms have the light fixtures turned on for the whole night – otherwise, you cannot turn on a light, pedal the wheels of your bicycle, wring out your clothes or anything else that could be perceived as work. You can however walk – and walk is what people do in Israel, especially on Shabbos. 

Saturday morning I went to the kitchen to make myself coffee from the heated water. I pondered for a few moments which spoon from which side of the sink I am supposed to use to make my coffee. I finally decide it needs to be the spoons we used last night for the Shabbos meal. I start to reach into the coffee jar and Ben Zion says, “Where did you get that spoon, from the meat or dairy side?” Oops, I knew I was going to commit a faux pas.

We attend synagogue for the Saturday morning service with more clapping, singing and dancing, and then it is time for our second Shabbos meal. I am getting familiar with how to ritually wash my hands (splash water on each hand five times) but I forgot about keeping silent until everyone has been handed the ritual bread dipped in salt. I am not sure what inane thing I was talking about but I finally realized their daughter-in-law Elly Sheva was saying “shh, shh.”  Oops, second faux pas, and those were only the ones I was aware of. 

At the end of the day we have our third meal. This meal also has family or friends present to share. This meal contains much less food, but there is still the singing between the courses and the final grace said at the end of each meal. Shabbos does not just fizzle out when the sun sets. There is a transition service that is performed usually in the presence of the community. It is called Havdalah. They say Shabbos has ended and it is time for Havdalah when three stars appear in the night sky. Just as candles are lit to welcome Shabbos on Friday evenings, Havdalah (Hebrew for “separation”) marks the end of Shabbos and separates it from the regular weekdays. There is again the overflowing Kiddush cup of wine, a box of spices, and a candle. According to Jewish legend, we each receive an extra soul that makes us especially attuned to the spiritual world during Shabbos. This soul leaves when Shabbos is over and the smell of spices is meant to revive us as it departs; smelling salts to bring us back into this world. 

May we learn to keep the Sabbath at home; instead of using it as a catch up day for all the things we didn’t do during the week.

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