Art by Rochelle Blumenfeld
A story told by Rabbi Zechariah Wallerstein ז"ל
The New York Times was very interested in this Jewish observance called Shabbos. Looking to inform their readers and the general public about the nature and nuances of this day, they decided to send a reporter names Steve to a religious home, who would participate in all aspects of Shabbos observance and report back about his inside experience.
Steve began making phone calls, searching for the most suitable Jewish, Orthodox family he could stay with over Shabbos and be exposed to what Shabbos is all about. He eventually got on the phone with someone who seemed open to the idea. " I'd like to spend a Shabbat with you and write up a report to be published in the New York Times. Would you be open to my staying with you and your family? " The family acquiesced, informing Steve that sunset was at 4:18 and he should arrive at 4:00.
Steve arrived shortly before 4:00 at the Rosenthal address and knocked kn the door. Witin moments, the door opened and Steve was met with a smile. It was Mr. Rosenthal, " Please come on in, " motioned Mr. Rosenthal, shaking Steve's hand and drawkng him in. Instantly, Steve felt overwhelmed. Not by his host, but by the home which smelled other- wordly, between the freshly baked challah, spiced cholent, and delicious chicken soup. It brought Steve vaguely back to Thanksgiving, the time when his family gathered around and cooked and baked together. But today was just another Friday afternoon like any other. It seemed like a big party was about to begin.
The family, with the children dressed in their finest suits and dresses, quickly made their way to Steve and warmly invited him in. " It's so nice to have you join us for Shabbos, " remarked Mr. Rosenthal, a welcoming tone in his voice. " Is there a wedding tonight?" Steve asked, rather curiously. Mr. Rosenthal shook his head. " It sure seems that way," giving way to another smile. "We do this every week for Shabbos. " Steve knew that this wasn't how his family walked around the house Friday night -- that was for sure.
A few minutes later, as Steve made himself comfortable on the sofa, he notice Mrs. Rosenthal and her three daughters make their way to a beautiful candelabra. It was silver and sparkling. It seemed to Steve as if he was watching angels. Placing their hands over their eyes, they began softly murmuring some prayer, as they slightly swayed with mesmerizing grace. About a minute later, Mrs. Rosenthal turned around, hugged and kissed her daughters, greeted her husband again with a smile and began walking him to the door. Steve, following Mr. Rosenthal's gesture, got up too, as Mrs. Rosenthal and her daughters wished Steve a good Shabbos and expressed how excided they all were to have him join them.
Mr. Rosenthal, now standing near the door, turned to Steve. " Steve, I'm heading to Shul now, the Synagogue. You are welcome to come along. " I'd love to," Steve replied, fixing his collar and giving a quick pat to his button- down shirt. Turning around, he saw that Mrs. Rosenthal and het daughters were putting the finishing touches to what he expected was dinner, after which they made their way to the living room, relaxed on the couch, and opened books. It seemed that they were praying some more. There wasn't another distracting sound. No phones ringing or music blaring. Just the whispering hum of Mrs. Rosenthal and her daughters quietly reciting their prayers. It was like heaven. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that this was done every single week.
Steve was so captivated by everything that already happened; he knew that more surprises were certainly around the corner.
Making his way down the block, he caught up with Mr. Rosenthal. They entered the Synagogue and sat down together. Everyone around them looked immuculate in their pressed suits and shined shoes. Steve was taking it all in. The children too, in their cute suits and dresses, were congregating around one man who sat in the corner. He, as Steve came to realize, was the candy man.
Then came the hymn of Lecha Dodi, and the entire shul erupted in a melodious song. Steve couldn't get enough of it. Energy, harmony, life, and love were palpably felt in the air, as if you could grab them with your hands. Steve remained, quietly to himself and alongside Mr. Rosenthal, towards the back of the shul.
All of the sudden, everyone stood up and turned around, reciting the concluding lines of Bo'i b' shalom. Steve, unaware of what was going on, had stood up, but didn't turn around. So there he was, opposite the entire congregation who swayed and chanted, facing him. Now Steve knew he had done it. He'd blown his cover. Everyone had turned around to look at him, realizing that he wasn't Jewish. A few moments later, all the men turned back around to face the Ark.
Steve, confushed, quietly approached the man seated right in front of him. " Excuse me, but I'm new here. What was that all about? Why was everyone looking at me? What were they saying? " We welcoming the Shabbos and saying , ' Bo'i b' shalom, ' Come in peace." Steve eyes widened in intrigue, as he thought, " I never would've thought that a room full of people would turn to face the Shabbat and greet it as if it were a real person and actual entity. That's so beautiful. I need to write about this in the paper.
The prayers came to an end, after which Steve and Mr. Rosenthal headed back home, as they greeted several people on their way and wished a " Good Shabbos. "
There sat Mrs. Rosenthal and her daughters on the sofa, smiling and laughing together. Within a few minutes, everyone was seated around the table and again singing began. Mr. Rosenthal's voice echoed throughout the home, a vibrant resonance felt throughout. The children, one by one, walked up to their father, who placed his hands on their heads and blessed them that they grow up to beome like the Matriarchs. He then gave each one a hug and kiss. Steve watched every unfolding move with wonder.
Kiddush over the wine was next, after which the family gathered around to wash their hands. The challah was uncovered and eaten. Heaven on earth, thought Steve to himself. The next courses of fish and matzah ball soup dazzeld Steve even more. The kids, in between and during the courses, each brought papers from school that stimulated questions and lively conversations. There was singing with all different tunes-- slow, emotional tunes and fast, lively tunes. It was all there.
What got to Steve more than anything was that everyone remained at the table. He couldn't remember the last time that was true of his family. And there still was no phone ringing or anyone running to catch the last minutes of the game. " Amazing! " Steve told himself over and over again. For over two hours, the family sat together, talking about their week, life on the whole, and Judaism.
Then came dessert. Steve recalled having dessert in restaurants or on special occasions. But a regular Friday night? He was having a four- course meal, from fish to soup to the main dish to dessert. Incredible! Steve didn't know, at this point, that he would be having many more courses over the span of a full Shabbos.
After the meal concluded and the family sat around, talking to another for some time longer, they bid each other a " good Shabbos " and began heading up the stairs. " Where is everyone going? " Steve asked. Talk to friends, watch something? " Mr. Rosenthal smiled. " We don't do that. We're heading upstairs to read or learn a little and then go to sleep. In the morning, we head back to shul. " So no phones? " Steve wondered again. " That's right, " responded Mr. Rosenthal.
The next morning, there was Steve again with Mr. Rosenthal. The Torah scroll was removed from the Ark, men were called up, and then back the Torah went, in the Ark. Afterwards, an assortment of various foods -- from cholent to kugel and more in between -- was put out for everyone to grab a bite, as the Rabbi shared some words of Torah insight and inspiration.
Mr. Rosenthal and Steve made their way back home after some more time in shul. " Now, what are we going to do? Play some ball? " We're going to eat again! " said Mr. Rosenthal. There it was. Fish, chopped liver, cholent, kugel, kishke. Steve had never seen anything like this in his life.
After lunch finished, everyone again sat down together and talked to each other. At this point, Steve asked the question. " Are you all together like this for twenty - five hours? " Everyone nodded their heads, looking at each other with smiles. " All you do is pray, learn, talk, eat, and sleep? " They nodded their heads again. " Now I understand why Jews have energy throughout the whole week! "
At 4:00 pm, Steve awoke, only to see the three Rosenthal girls about to walk out the door. " Are you going somewhere? " he asked. " We're going to an afternoon Shabbos program. " " What do you do there?" Steve pressed on, wiping the sleepness away from his eyes. " We listen to Jewish stories and insights, talk to our friends and have a special Shabbos treats. " Steve couldn't help but think about his own children and how they would love to have such an opportunity with their friends every saturday afternoon. Praying, stories, food, sleep, studying, love, togetherness, family -- it all came together in one day called Shabbos.
Finally there was Havdalah, with its candle, spices, wine, and all the symbolism that Steve came to appreciate.
As the candle was snuffed out, Steve turned to the family. " I have one question for you all:
" Why would anyone not want to do this? "
Shabbos is beautiful. Torah is wonderful.
It is our role and responsibility to create a generation where the love and life of Yiddishkeit is felt by our children. We can do it. The beauty is there, it was always there.
Lets bring it to Life!
Gut Shabbos.