I want to begin with a story I learned from my friend Moshe Waldoks. He has a friend who is a sculptor and every once in a while, she saves up enough money to buy a really big, beautiful piece of wood. Then she'll spend the next few days walking around the wood block, looking at it and touching it and contemplating it from every angle.
One time, he asked, "So, when do you start working on it?" She answered, "I am working on it." Then, finally she began to carve and she carved furiously for days and Moshe said, "Wow, that looks really hard." She responded, "No, this isn't the hard part." "But you're working like crazy, wood and sweat flying everywhere! What's the hard part?" "The hard part," she replied, "is knowing when to stop. If I don't stop, I'll end up with a toothpick."
Knowing when to stop is key. In this short essay, I want to explore the Jewish concept of Shabbat, the Sabbath. I think that this might be one of the most important teachings my religious tradition has to offer for the 21st century.
One of the most difficult issues in my life is time. There's never enough of it. Time goes so quickly. Where does time go when it's gone? What is the best way to mark its passing? Judaism tries to do what science fiction only dreams about.
Through the legal fiction of Shabbat, we stop time. You let go of the past. Come Friday night, if something isn't done, you just let it go. You do your best to stop worrying, planning, focusing on the future. For a brief period of your week, you do your best to live in the present. If we approach Shabbat correctly, it can be an island of peace in our busy lives, a time to focus on friends and family. Shabbat can be a time to reestablish our relationship with nature, to check in and check up on ourselves.
When many people think about Shabbat in traditional terms, they focus on what they can't do. In a traditional sense, one doesn't use electricity, use money or travel long distances. This means that if you are traditionally observant, you can't drive, you can't turn on lights, you can't go shopping. While these religious laws do a great job of taking one out of the busy world of work, commuting and commerce, many people simply aren't ready to be traditionally observant in this way. Maybe it's best to reformulate Shabbat in terms of what you can do that will enrich your life, keep you sane and bring balance to a hectic schedule.
At Hillel, I often talk about "Shabbat on your own terms." A major concept of Shabbat is Oneg Shabbat, Shabbat joy. So the question then becomes, "What brings you real joy in your life? How can you integrate those things into your regular schedule so that you can look forward to them and count on them being a part of your weekly routine?"
When our kids were young, Shabbat was the one day that they didn't have to finish dinner in order to get desert. Shabbat should still be a time to bring joy into your life.
Do you love flowers but only have them in your room occasionally? Make Friday afternoon a time to buy flowers, 'lichvod Shabbat', for the honor of Shabbat. Set aside time when you will be able to read a favorite book, spend time with good friends or listen to music that you love. There are many times when I'm able to make it through a crazy week just by knowing that there will be a small place of sanity and peace come Friday night and Saturday. Ideally, Shabbat is a gift you give to yourself.
Spiritually, we can learn a lot as we experience Shabbat. We shouldn't always judge our worth by what we are making, doing and accomplishing. Our lives have meaning and value when we are just being: thinking, reflecting, singing, paying attention, listening and walking lightly in our world.
Rabbi Jeffrey Summit is the Associate Jewish Chaplain at Tufts University and the Executive Director of Tufts Hillel.
