When I was growing up, Shabbat meant coming together. No matter how physical our weeks were, Shabbat was a release from rigor; an invitation to relax, come home and be together.
Beginning Friday evening, our daily lives were left at the door and the Sabbath halo enveloped us with the scents of simmering sauté pans and the sounds of conversation filling the hallways. Almost every Shabbat, we opened our home to share our blessing with others. On this night, we could talk to each other and listen more deeply than the rush of the workweek allowed. Shabbat was a gathering of life; a blanket of togetherness.
And it was so much fun. Each member of my family had a âpartâ during the service. My mother assigned these roles early on to ensure we were always actively engaged in the observance—our part was our responsibility and the holiday was incomplete without it. If we were talkative or rowdy during the blessings (as was the proclivity in my household), my mother would just start over. She wouldn’t proceed until we all met in the same spiritual place.
For twenty-years, Shabbat was a Friday evening bustle of heightened family dynamics, the warm company of friends and strangers and a dessert spread that makes Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory seem sparse. There was always laughing and feasting and joy.
As I got older, I valued the joy but I craved enlightenment. I began attending Saturday morning Torah study with my mentor, teacher and friend, Rabbi Terry Bookman. There, I found more community, more warmth, more love, more Judaism. Afterwards, we would gather in the chapel for a musical minyan and I could sing from my soul. When it ended, the Miami sun would be shining and I remember feeling so full, so fulfilled.
When I moved to Los Angeles, I knew it would be just as hard to leave my synagogue as it would be to leave my family. Shabbat would never be the same and I would have to accept that loss and swim through it, in order to discover a new way to celebrate. Alone, I would have to reinvent a day that had always been about being close to the people I love.
(Pictured: our family member Max)
More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.