25 Days of Israel: Day 3 - Effervescent Shabbat

There’s something to be said for the consistency of a phenomenon such as Shabbat in contrast to the persistence of creation and bold expansion in virtually every other aspect of life in Israel. It is remarkable that it is somehow effortless for this country and culture to contain a mandated day of rest in the midst of otherwise relentless chaos.

For those who are not familiar, Shabbat is the period from Friday at sundown until Saturday at nightfall ceremoniously distinguished from the rest of the week as a time of restoration, community, and connection.

Practically, larger and/or national companies - like banks and post offices - are closed on Friday and Saturday, and many smaller businesses work short half days. Buses and all public transportation (except for a select few, depending on where you live) stop running, and after a very intense shishi morning running urgent errands, so does, more or less, everyone else. Every aspect of life in this country, even if you are not religious, is centered on the way that there are two distinct parts of the week.

I have to give a hearty shout out to Shabbat because it has truly become a force in my world and a powerful reminder of the opportunity of self care. I have to give it a hearty shout out because it is an experience that weekly stops an entire persistent country and offers a distinctly different cultural (and physical) environment, without fail. Especially in contrast to what I discussed in yesterday’s post about defiantly expansive and creative Israeli living, Shabbat’s influence is quite a feat.

During my time in Israel, I have lived in a variety of interesting cities and neighborhoods along the scale of noisy and peaceful. My most recent home temple I could truly call my own was located in Yafo, the Arab-majority adjacent sister city of Tel Aviv. In ways it was calmer and in ways it was more insane than other parts of central Tel Aviv, and generally saw rigorous activity throughout the week. While most of the population are Christian or Muslim, even there, Shabbat has its reach.

Beyond just relief at simply finishing the work week, even on a freelancer’s work schedule (no weekend and all weekend, simultaneously), I particularly looked forward to the descent of the Shabbat magic in this part of the city, where, for one glorious day, especially in the “spring” and “fall” seasons, I honestly felt like an expansive, uninhibited angel walking the earth.

Physiologically and environmentally, truly, Shabbat has always felt different in my body, but that’s especially true in this magical place in Yafo. Between the noteworthy fewer cars on the road, the reduced volume of street chatter, and the effervescent shimmer of a more easeful life on everyone in sight, I always looked forward to taking my first big sigh of the weekend and resting in my heart by the nearby sea.

However, no matter where I spend it or in what state, Shabbat is always there, spinning its magic, nudging at my heels like a lovingly devoted doggie companion wanting me to put down my work and come play.

It’s not just an old “weekend,” it’s not just “Saturday” - it’s something that comes with the territory, literally. Undeniably, Shabbat is most distinctly supported, and most vividly real, physically in the land of Israel. There’s something so complete and so wholly reaching about it. The most profound rest, the brightest refreshed joy, the most nourishing family meals, the most liberating weekend trips, the most significant individual transformation all happen on the ground here, in this country, with inexplicable divinity.

Traditional Jews who observe Shabbat do so all around the world, but… it’s just not the same. It’s as though all people - Jewish or otherwise, observant or not - physically located in Israel, on any given Shabbat, are given fully acknowledged and fully respected sanctuary from the struggles of life for a shining 25 hour period. You may be running with wolves right on your heels the rest of the week, but come Shabbat, even they allow you to breathe, stop, and rest.

Today was most excellent, easily one of the most productive unproductive Shabbats I’ve had in a long time. I was reminded gently of how normal rules simply don’t apply. During a walk to the nearby park to watch the sunset, I enjoyed seeing once again how even the most surly, the most timid, the most anxious, the most scattered among us take a few hours - even only a few hours! - to exist in a more liberated state within themselves.

For some, it may revert back quicker than others, but nonetheless, there’s something powerfully unifying about looking at the world around you - at people around you may never speak to at all - and feeling connected by a universal sense of observed ease, nourishment, community, and love. Not everyone necessarily calls it by those names, but it is ALWAYS tangibly, visibly evident to anyone open to looking.

On the more humorous end of the Shabbat anti-rules, my wonderful friend told me today that her observant mother always told her it never mattered what you ate during Shabbat. The food would never negatively affect your body, and, what’s more, anything consumed was anyways automatically and authentically holy. For its divinity, anything - anything at all - that you put into your body can therefore only serve you 😉 So then… maybe that’s why we baked a cake and ate it too.

Cake, just because. (And it was holy.) 😁

I desire to take the spirit of Shabbat - like the spirit of Christmas for others - with me into every moment of my life, as much as I can when I’m both in and out of Israel. It is a sacred, special, distinguished period - it’s true - and ancient rituals have backed that up for centuries, but ultimately, it is we who have given Shabbat its living power on Earth. It is not a force that merely works on us, but one we work together with on ourselves and each other.

We are the makers of these worlds we live in, which means that we can choose to create a reality for ourselves and our communities where we are inspired by rest, care, compassion, and gentle respect. We are vivid and bright, and so is this teaching, and although we may perhaps not succeed in making every day a holiday (nor do we perhaps desire to), we can be sure that every day is indeed still a holy day.