TBack in the mid-nineties, a Jewish advertising executive in New York
came up with an idea. What if the New York Times – considered the
world’s most prestigious newspaper – listed the weekly Shabbat candle
lighting time each week? Someone would have to pay for the space of
course, but imagine the Jewish awareness and pride that might result
from such a prominent mention of the Jewish Shabbat each week.
He got in touch with a Jewish philanthropist and sold him the idea. It
would cost almost two thousand dollars a week, but the philanthropist
did it. Each Friday for the next five years, Jews around the world
would open the New York Times to see: “Jewish Women: Shabbat candle
lighting time this Friday is…”
Eventually the philanthropist had to cut back on a number of his
projects and, in June 1999, the little Shabbat notice stopped
appearing in the Friday Times. From that week on, it never appeared
again. However, there was one notable exception.
On January 1, 2000, the NY Times ran a Millennium edition. It was a
special issue that featured three front pages.
1. One had the news from January 1, 1900.
2. The second was the actual news of the day, January 1, 2000.
3. A third front page was projecting future events of January 1, 2100.
This fictional page included things like a welcome to the fifty-first
state: Cuba. As well, a discussion as to whether robots should be
allowed to vote, and so on. In addition to the fascinating articles,
there was one more thing. Down on the bottom of the Year 2100 front
page, was the candle lighting time in New York for January 1, 2100.
Nobody paid for it. It was just put in by the Times.
The production manager of the New York Times – an Irish Catholic – was
asked about it. His answer was right on the mark, it speaks to the
eternity of our people and to the power of Jewish ritual. “We don’t
know what will happen in the year 2100. It is impossible to predict
the future, but of one thing you can be certain, that in the year
2100, Jewish women will be lighting Shabbos candles”.
Interesting isn’t it, how non-Jews view our association with Shabbat
as an eternal inseparable bond? Do they make it more than it is?
Perhaps they feel that for us, or for that matter for all, that
Shabbat is the center of the world. There is certainly a respect they
feel about us and our bonding with Shabbat. Maybe they feel Shabbat is
a powerful force. They’re right!
Parshat Behar / Bechukotai happens to be my bar mitzvah parsha. When
late spring arrives and parshat Behar creeps up, it marks another
year, another quick year, that has whisked by. That’s a frightening
notion. My bar mitzvah video has more people on the other side of the
hill then here with us. When reflecting at the rather quick life we
are all experiencing it’s a sporty idea, an entertaining one no less,
to guess what purpose each one of us were brought in to the world.
What did a particular individual come here to fix? I try to guess
which one of my possible negative traits is the ‘jackpot’, the one I
was sent here to fic. Although if you ask my wife she’ll write up a
whole chaptered booklet of my deficiencies. “And yes, when you fixed
those look out for volume 2” my eshet chail would say.
Regardless of our personal “monkey on our shoulder” dilemmas, there is
another general major test that every Jew is confronted with. It
identifies and categorizes where we stand as Jews, whether in this
world or after we pass on. “Are you Shomer Shabbat?” Is a question
often asked? Shabbat is at the very center of Jewish consciousness. It
is repeated more times than any other mitzvah in the Torah, and it is
the only ritual observance which is part of the Ten Commandments.
Let’s not fool ourselves, one can be super kind and honest that’s
great! Brownie points reward is right at the doorstep however there is
no escaping the fact that “Did you keep Shabbat and to what degree of
honor did you give it?” will be one of the top questions we will be
asked after 120. It’s one of those majors and it is spelled out, black
and white in the Torah text.
What is so special about Shabbat and what powers does it have?
SHABBAT IS THE SEVENTH DAY
Seven is the official number representing the world. There are seven
days in a week; there are seven year cycles leading to the fiftieth
year Jubilee; the world is divided into seven regions. There are some
opinions that the Jewish calendar starts with the month of Nissan;
therefore the seventh month will come out to be Tishrei, the month
that the world was created and each year is judged.
The midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 29:9) states: All the seventh ones are
beloved always. Above, there are seven worlds, and the seventh is the
most favored. These worlds are: shamayim, shmei ha’shamayim, rakia,
shechakim, zevul, maon and aravot. We read (Tehilim 68:5), “Extol He
Who rides upon the highest heavens / aravot with His Name, `Kah’.”
There are seven terms for “land,” and the seventh is the most favored.
These terms are: eretz, adamah, arka, geh, tziyah, neshiyah and tevel.
We read (Tehilim 9:9), “And He will judge tevel in righteousness; He
will judge the regimes with fairness.”
Among generations, the seventh was favored. They were: Adam, Shet,
Enosh, Keinan, Mahalalel, Yered and Chanoch. We read (Bereishit 5:24),
“Chanoch walked with the Elokim”
Among sons, the seventh was favored, as we read (Divrei Hayamim I
2:15), “David, the seventh [son].”
SOURCE OF POWER
G-d designed the world in such a way that the source of power is
rooted on the seventh day.
“Ki sheshet yamim asa hashem et ha shamaim ve’et ha’aretz, u’vayom
ha’shvi’i shabbat va’yinafash.” that in six days the Lord made the
heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he rested, and ceased
from his work.
This famous verse is said a number of times, including the morning
Shabbat Kiddush. Rabbi Noach Isaac Oelbaum sites many Sages asking an
obvious question. It should say B’SHESHET-in six days…..G-d created
the world. Why SHESHET? The fact that it says SHESHET implies that G-d
created the world for ONLY six days and the seventh, Shabbat has a
mission is to rejuvenate and give power to the next six days.
Those of you who have a custom to recite the Zohar for the Friday
night are reading this concept. The Sage imply how one acts and treats
the Shabbat would determine the bracha one gets the following week.
The opening commandment in this week’s parsha deals with shemitta –
the sabbatical year for the Land of Israel when the ground was to be
allowed to lie fallow and the farmer abstained from his regular
routine of work. As soon as the Jews settled in the Holy Land, they
began to count and observe seven-year cycles. Every cycle would
culminate in a Sabbatical year, known as Shemittah, literally: “to
release.”
The traditional commentators to the Torah emphasized that even though
the ground and farmer would benefit in the long run from the year’s
inactivity this was not the reason for the commandment. There are
always side benefits from obeying the commandments of the Torah but
these are never the reason or the basis for the commandment itself.
The underlying lesson of the sabbatical year is its obvious kinship to
the weekly Sabbath. Just as every seven days brings with it a holy day
of rest, so too does a holy sabbatical year bring with it a rest for
the earth itself. And, to continue this obvious comparison between
these two Sabbaths, just as the weekly Sabbath is meant to remind us
of God’s creation of the universe so too does the seven year Sabbath
testify to God’s omnipotence and presence in all of our human affairs.
OUR OBLIGATION
There is a story I read by Dina Yellen which I found touching and
worthwhile to retell. It’s one that many of us can relate to and it
defines our pride and resiliency towards our commitment to Judaism and
our love for G-d.
“As I settled into my seat on Flight 1272 bound for Chicago, I glanced
at the passengers filing down the aisle. My Jew-radar immediately went
off; in addition to the business travelers toting their laptops and
briefcases, and the pleasure travelers wearing shorts and Walkmans, I
spied several suede kippot, a striemel and ankle-length skirts.
Despite our shared heritage, I didn’t bother acknowledging them. They
were strangers. And I live in New York, where strangers seldom
exchange greetings, even if they recite the same prayers”
Many observant Jews raise the red flag when it comes to travel and
Friday. Everyone who is a Shabbat observer has this fear of something
going wrong and then having to break camp in some strange place.
“Well, the inevitable happened, the plane rolled toward the runway and
I waited for takeoff. No such luck. The pilot announced the flight was
being delayed three hours due to stormy weather conditions in Chicago.
I glanced at my watch nervously. Usually, I avoid flying Friday
afternoons for fear I won’t arrive in time, but on summer weekends
when Shabbat doesn’t begin until 8 p.m., I figured I’d be safe. I
figured wrong.
After we finally took off, a half-hour before arrival, the pilot
announced O’Hare Airport was shut down and we were landing in
Milwaukee until we could continue on. My stomach sunk. Candle-lighting
was an hour away. I’d never make it on time. Like most religious Jews
who work in the secular world, I’d experienced my share of close
calls. But I never knowingly violated the Sabbath. Now, I was stuck.
By now, the kippot and long skirts were huddled in the back of the
plane. They had been joined by others. Shabbat was bringing strangers
together.
It was time to introduce myself. We’re going to get off in Milwaukee,
a young man told me. The Chasid had called Milwaukee’s Chabad rabbi,
who offered to host any stranded passengers for Shabbat. Come with us,
he urged. I nodded with relief but returned to my seat crestfallen
since I had planned this weekend with my family for months.
My non-Jewish seatmate, noticing my despair, inquired what was wrong.
When I told him the story, his jaw dropped. “Let me get this
straight,” he said, “You’re getting off the plane in a town where
you’ve never been with people you don’t know to stay overnight with
complete strangers?”
I quickly realized I was among friends. As I attempted to carry my
bags off the plane, a woman insisted on helping me. When we crowded
into cabs to take us to the rabbi’s house, the Chasid insisted on
paying for me. And when the cabs pulled up at the home of the Rabbi
and Rebbetzin, they ran outside to greet us as if we were long lost
relatives.
The sun set on Milwaukee as they ushered us into their home, where a
long table was set for Shabbat with a white tablecloth, china and
gleaming kiddush cups. When I lit the Shabbat candles, a wave of peace
washed over me. With all that had transpired, I was warmed by the
notion that the world stops with the first flicker of Sabbath light.
Over a traditional Shabbat feast, the rabbi enchanted us with tales of
the Baal Shem Tov and informed us that our re-route to Milwaukee was
due not to the world of weather but of Divine providence.
We lingered over our meal, enjoying our spiritual sanctuary in time
after the stressful day. Zemirot (Shabbat songs) filled the room. We
shared disappointments about our unexpected stopover. Most of the
group was traveling to Chicago for their friend’s aufruf (“calling up”
the groom to the Torah on the Shabbat before a wedding) and wedding
and were missing the aufruf. The Chasid and his wife were missing a
bar mitzvah.
We pondered the meaning of the departure from our journey and marveled
at the coincidences. I had attended camp with my roommate, a couple
had conducted business with my father, a man had studied in yeshiva
with my cousin, the chasid used to work in my hometown of Aurora,
Ill., and I had once spent Purim in Crown Heights with my hosts’ son.
Exhausted as we were, everyone was hesitant to leave the table to go
to sleep.
The next morning, a lively tefillah was followed by a leisurely meal
where we exchanged stories about our lives, careers and dreams. We
nicknamed ourselves the Milwaukee 15 and wondered if future
generations would retell the story of the flight that didn’t make it
in time for candlelighting.
The story does not end with a bang. No, the airplane that was delayed
and left without the fifteen observant Jews did not crash. There is no
proclamation “You see, if we would have violated Shabbat and taken the
flight we would have been doomed.” The story end quite ordinary, but
it bring some important points about our obligations to G-d and how we
observe and obey as a nation, a chosen nation.
“Saturday night, we made a regretful journey to the everyday world.
But before we began the final leg of our journey, I called my husband
to tell him all that had transpired.
“Who did you spend Shabbat with?” he asked worriedly. I pondered how
to explain who these former strangers were who had given me object
lessons in Shabbat hospitality and in the power of Shabbat in bringing
Jews together.
And, then as swiftly as a 747 can leave the tarmac on a clear day, I
realized the truth: miles away from my parents, husband and home, I
had accomplished what I set out to do when I booked my ticket: I had
spent Shabbat with family.
YOVEL
The Jubilee year is the year at the end of seven
cycles of shmita (Sabbatical years), and according to Biblical
regulations had a special impact on the ownership and management of
land in the Land of Israel; there is some debate whether it was the
49th year (the last year of seven sabbatical cycles, referred to as
the Sabbath’s Sabbath), or whether it was the following (50th) year.
Jubilee deals largely with land, property, and property rights.
According to Vayikra, slaves and prisoners would be freed, debts would
be forgiven, and the mercies of God would be particularly manifest.
Therefore the standard six year term of slavery would be prematurely
terminated with the advent of Yovel. Even those who had voluntarily
committed themselves to continued slavery upon the conclusion of their
six year term were slaves no longer once Yovel arrived. Over the
course of time, many family fields would be sold. Yovel would
automatically return the land to the original owners.
Business, Wall street, the Diamond district, Real Estate, money, our
lines get blurred when it comes to ownership. That’s mine. I’ve earned
it. I’ve got to earn more. Life gets so busy; we find that we never
have a free moment. Time is money.
We see that Yovel was certainly a proclamation of freedom for many but
why is it described as a proclamation of freedom for all of its
inhabitants? How do all Jews benefit from Yovel?
WE HAVE TO EARN IT. TO GET CLOSE TO G-D THROUGH THE SHABBAT
Shabbat is the Jewish tool to make sure we don’t misunderstand our
place in the universe. Refraining from work is the first step toward
accomplishing this goal. God gave mankind the power to manipulate and
change the world. Because of this, we are easily lulled into thinking
that we are in control of the world.
Then comes Shabbat. Once every seven days, we step back from the world
and make a statement to ourselves and humanity that we are not in
charge of this world. We stop all creative work and acknowledge that
it is God’s world, not ours. We can manipulate the world, but we don’t
own it. God gives us clear guidelines for how we may shape the world,
but it’s not ours to do with as we see fit all the time.
When we refrain from work on Shabbat, we regain clarity and
understanding as to Who is the true Creator.
According to Rav Moshe Shternbuch, Yovel grants a person a clear
perspective. I’m the master over no one and no thing. Hashem appoints
me for a stint and then it passes on to someone else. I got a great
deal on that field, now it goes back to its owner. This servant really
had my home running smoothly, he now returns to his home. The soul had
become subservient to the physical needs being over-filled – it is now
freed.
On the fiftieth year, freedom is proclaimed in the land for all of its
inhabitants. Each and every individual prioritizes. There’s a sense of
freedom
The foundation and basis of all of Jewish faith and belief in its
Torah is the necessity of human acknowledgment of God’s role in our
lives and in His ability to instruct us how to live. Since the weekly
Sabbath sometimes is taken for granted for it becomes such an
accustomed and regular part of our existence, the seven year Sabbath
comes to jolt us out of our complacency and to have us recognize
clearly, once again God’s rule over us.
The only way to get close to G-d is if we take the first step.
Interestingly ever notice why on Shabbat we learn Torah better, the
food is more delicious. The reason is there is no intermediary, no
angels between us and the Master of the Universe. For this reason we
recite Shalom Alechem in the beginning of the Shabbat. We say
BTZETCHEM L’SHALOM we escort the week day angels out of our house for
now it’s us and him just the two of us.
Regarding that according to the Torah Shabbat is an OT – a sign, the
Chofetz Chaim tells over a parable:
When one passes by a store front and the doors are locked, he assumes
they are closed. When he passes by the next day and sees the fixtures
missing, he does not jump to conclusions that perhaps they’re out of
business, maybe they’re are doing renovations. But, when he sees that
the sign is no longer there then he comes to the conclusion they are
out of business.
When the world sees that the Jews are keeping the Shabbat they know
the sign is up and they’re still in business.
The closer you are to G-d
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