Learning from the Jewish Sabbath

By Mariana Cristancho-Ahn

Malchei Yisrael Street in Jerusalem (Mariana Cristancho-Ahn/Journey to Jerusalem)

Before going to Israel for the first time last spring I knew that the Sabbath was the day of rest for observant Jews and that it started at Friday sunset. As a Christian, I read descriptions of it in the Bible. I saw the Sabbath celebration portrayed in movies like “Fiddler on the Roof.” But I didn’t really have a deep personal understanding of what the Shabbat, as it is known in modern Hebrew, was all about.

That was until I had my first Shabbat experience … in Jerusalem and with an Orthodox Jewish roommate.

I spent Friday afternoon watching the rush involved in the Shabbat preparation on the vibrant Malchei Yisrael Street in the heart of a Hasidic neighborhood in Jerusalem.

It was about 2:00 p.m. on a Friday afternoon in the middle of March. The day was sunny, though a bit chilly. Men and women dressed in their distinctive outfits –black suits and hats for men; long sleeved-shirts and modest black skirts for women– seemed to be in a hurry around the shops in the area.

I had decided to dress in a way that would allow me to blend in as much as possible.

Attracted by the upbeat sound of Hebrew music and the smell of fresh bread, I entered a bakery to observe the lively interactions. I noticed that even though customers seemed to be in a rush to have their shopping done, they were very deliberate about looking for the right loaves of bread or selecting the nicest cookies and pastries. The music in the background –Hebrew lyrics I couldn’t understand– created a festive atmosphere.

Aby Bentata, a 32- year-old Orthodox Sephardic Jew from Venezuela, started to talk with me after identifying my Spanish accent in my interaction with the cashier. He asked me if I were Jewish and if I had moved to Israel. I told him that I wasn’t and that I was there as a student of journalism reporting about religion.

I was surprised that he started the conversation. I have heard that in religious Jewish neighborhoods, like the one I was visiting, informal chatting among unrelated men and women was rare. But he was very kind and I took advantage of the opportunity to continue the conversation and ask him about his life in Israel and the Shabbat preparations.

“Every Sabbath it happens like this,” he said. “Every Friday right before Sabbath people try to get the freshest food possible.”

Bentata made what Jews call “aliyah,” meaning he moved permanently to Israel, eight months ago from the U.S. He works as a portfolio manager in Tel Aviv, but he lives in Jerusalem, which he refers to as “a very special city.” He told me he had bought desert cookies for a Shabbat dinner he was going to have with Jewish friends from the U.S. who also made aliyah.

I understood the excitement and preparation on the outside streets but there was another type of preparation that I fund even more interesting. My roommate Yaffi Spodek explained that she was turning off her cell phone and computer for the Sabbath. She explained that she would not be turning lights on and off and that she would not be spending money.

Later in the afternoon our class was getting ready to share in our own Shabbat celebration. Like Yaffi, we left behind our reporting tools –notebooks, cameras, audio recorders– and turned off any electrical devices in observance of the Shabbat rules. At the beginning it felt strange not to be able to physically record in some fashion my memories. Yet, as it turned out, this was one of the evenings that I remember the most from our journey.

As we arrived to the Ades synagogue right before sunset I remember how beautiful it was to experience the quiet surroundings and see the pastel colors of the dusk reflected in the stonewall façades of the constructions around. I was also moved to see people warmly greeting each other in the streets. This scene reminded me of the cozy little towns in Colombia where I grew up.

After prayer time in the synagogue we went for a Kurdish Shabbat dinner at Barashi Synagogue. More than a dinner, this gathering was a feast! We enjoyed delicious Middle Eastern and Kurdish dishes accompanied with wine and even homemade liquors. I kept thinking about
all the preparation that went into having everything ready for our group.

Our Shabbat evening ended with a tisch, a celebration gathering in the home of a Hasidic family. I was deeply touched with the songs they sang that evening. Sometimes at my local church in New York people sing songs in Hebrew that sound very similar to the ones I heard that evening. Once again, despite the language barrier, I felt a strong connection to the melodies.

At the end of the gathering we walked back to the hotel.

Yaffi told me she was going to spend the day with friends in observance of the Sabbath.

What I found the most striking about the Shabbat celebration was that it is not only about the food and making sure the cooking and preparation is done before Friday’s sunset. It is about stepping aside from the demands of the regular workweek and setting aside time for rest and renewal. It is a time to share with family and dear friends, and a time to be closer to God. “We work the whole week to be able to enjoy the Shabbat which is the spiritual day,” Bentata told me.

I believe that in the busy world that we live in, we all –Jews and Gentiles–need this kind of time. I know that there was a time that we Christians were more rigorous in our Sabbath observance. Sunday was a day for church and family meals and not for work or shopping. Sunday is still my spiritual day, but sometimes, in fact most of the time, I find it hard not to sneak in work-related activities. Now that I have experienced the Jewish Sabbath, I think that it has something to teach Christians like me. Maybe I too will begin to give my cellphone and laptop a rest.

This entry was posted on Friday, May 21st, 2010 at 4:16 pm and is filed under Reflections and tagged with Christianity, Jerusalem, Judaism, Mariana Cristancho-Ahn. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.