By Elisabeth Hinze
Shabbat in Jerusalem… You can already feel it early the Friday morning. A sense of anticipation hovers over the city. Shop attendants who usually bark a disinterested “Ken?” (Yes?) in your direction will today make an extra effort with a “Shabbat Shalom” (a gruff one, but still…) The streets are busier as crowds jostle home for final preparations on the Shabbat meal. Oh, the Shabbat meal… Tell-tale smells waft from thousands of kitchens all over the city – a promise of the feast to come. Men hurry home from the shuk (market), a bunch of flowers for the wife and challah (braided Shabbat bread) under the arm.
The pace gets more frantic as midday comes and goes. Street café owners carry the little tables and chairs inside and lock up for the weekend. And then the hustle of the week starts dying down. The streets grow quiet. Orthodox families decked out in black and white throng to the Western Wall to welcome the Shabbat in the shadow of the ancient stones. Side-locked fathers proudly sport the black suit and kippa, offset by the white tassels trailing in their wake. Apart from the hubbub at the Western Wall, silence falls over Jerusalem…
At exactly eight minutes before sundown the sound of an alarm echoes in the coming Shabbat. It’s a call to rest…
Shabbat in Jerusalem comes as a bit of a shock the first time around. The city through which a constant heartbeat of vibrancy radiates suddenly grows devoid of its vital signs. Shops are shut tight. Traffic disappears from the usually congested roads. No busses, no taxis, no trains. Jerusalem literally grinds to a halt for a day of, well, rest. You’ve heard about it, expected it to happen, but still… The complete opposite of what you’re used to just catches you slightly off guard. Until you allow yourself to fall under the sway of Jerusalem at peace. It’s then that you begin to wait expectantly for the city itself to exhale her weekly sigh of contentment. Shabbat rest…
Shabbat dinner is a highlight in every Jewish home. Preparations for the weekly feast start as early as Wednesday. No effort is spared. Only the most delicious dishes, only the most exquisite flowers, only the finest silver and costliest crystal is good enough for Shabbat dinner.
Children drive from across Israel to “go home” for Shabbat. Soldiers get leave. Those without any family nearby are “adopted” as close relatives for the evening. Because Shabbat is a time for family to be together. It is a night of blessing, spontaneous singing and joy. Late at night the telltale snatches of conversation and bursts of laughter of families celebrating can still be heard drifting to the street below. After a week of busyness, of everybody living past one another, the family catches up on one another’s lives.
“Keeping the Shabbat” has gotten some bad press in the nations. Simply because it’s easy to get stuck at the list of “things you’re not permitted to do on Shabbat”. So the idea of Shabbat often becomes something distorted. A day of denial, of rules and regulations and a bunch of don’ts.
It is here in Jerusalem that I started to appreciate the beauty of Shabbat. For six days there will be toil, labour and sweat to earn a living – poured out like an offering before God. But on the seventh day the frantic pace grinds to a halt – as a sign of faith that although nothing will be accomplished on this day, God is sure to provide. Just like He has provided throughout all generations, ever since that time in the Wilderness when there would be a double portion of manna, especially for Shabbat. He is God. It is His blessing on the week’s work that turns all the toil, labour and sweat into something fruitful (Psalm 127:1). Because He is Father, because He is Provider, there will never be any lack.
Shabbat has taught me about dependence on Him. To trust Him when He invites me to lay down the past week’s stresses and strains, to put down my fears and worries, to become still and to know that He is God (Psalm 46:10). And to rest. In the knowledge that He will accomplish in and around and for me that which I am so incapable of accomplishing myself.
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