Spending Shabbat in Jerusalem

I recently returned from 10 days in Jerusalem, studying at the Shalom Hartman Institute but also having a few hours here and there to do some sightseeing. My apartment was very centrally located and I was able to walk everywhere, which was fantastic, although some of those hills in Jerusalem under the hot summer sun were a bit challenging.

The lectures were all amazing – we kept trying to decide which were the best presentation and the best presenter, but we were unable to choose among so many top-notch offerings. I took copious pages of notes and have already started reading some of the books that were recommended to us there. I’d like to go back and do this again every few years.

What I want to talk about specifically today is Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath. As you might imagine, Shabbat in Jerusalem is a very special experience. Things start to shut down mid-afternoon on Friday so that everybody can prepare. People are on the streets everywhere carrying bags from the market and wishing each other “Shabbat shalom” as they hurry home. I went back to my apartment with my own goodies and changed clothes so I could go to services. I planned to attend at the Great Synagogue, which was conveniently located around the corner from where I was staying. It’s Orthodox, so I followed the women as I entered the building so I would go to the correct section and not risk being anywhere that I didn’t belong. This turned out to be a huge balcony, like the balcony in a nice theatre, with a lot of women coming and going and children tearing at a furious pace along the aisles. The men were on the main floor below (all very nice, reminding me of Sixth & I). There was to be a professional choir and I was a bit dubious about this, but then a group of boys and young men filed in and sat in the chairs between the podium and the Holy Ark. And they sang in beautiful harmony, prayer after prayer, and it began to remind me of the Levites singing in the days of the Temple. So it became very special.

For Saturday morning, we had been given a list of synagogues that we might want to visit, but I decided that I can attend a synagogue back here at home and what I really wanted to do was have Shabbat at the Kotel (Western Wall). In preparing for this trip, I had printed out some poems and prayers to bring with me and also had Birkon Artzi, a CCAR-published book of prayers and blessings for traveling to, within, and home from Israel that had been given to us on the congregational trip to Israel that I had been on a few years ago. And I found my way to the Kotel and stood up against it reciting the first portion of the Shema, then went back and sat in a chair on the plaza so that others could get to the Kotel. In a leisurely way, I read/prayed all of the readings I had brought along with me. And then I found my way back to my apartment, all without needing to turn on my phone (which I normally don’t do on Shabbat but was prepared to do rather than getting lost), making me quite proud of myself.

The Hartman Institute had lunch for us and then afternoon meetings and classes, so I walked back down there, sat through the programs, and walked back to the apartment again afterwards. All of this walking combined to offer me ample opportunity to participate in the significantly altered mood and pace of Jerusalem on Shabbat – people walking everywhere, mostly dressed nicely and all greeting one another with “Shabbat shalom!”, almost no cars on the road and definitely no buses (the street in front of my apartment appears to be a major bus route, with them passing by in both directions every few minutes) – just a relaxed, magical, golden, special time out of place. Quite evocative of Heschel’s view of Shabbat as something that pulls us entirely into the realm of time or really even timelessness and away from our usual bustling around in space from one place to another.

I started thinking about other times that I have experienced Shabbat in such a positive light. For the most part, although I do enjoy Torah study and services and lunch afterwards and hiking, sooner or later, the day starts seeming very long to me – no computer, no cell phone, no needlework – there are only many hours that I can be reading! I came to understand that the past Shabbatot that were most meaningful to me were when I was at summer camp, and we all celebrated it together as a special day unlike other camp days, or when I have been with family all day.

The difference is community! One of the central features of Judaism, the Jewish people themselves, is what makes a day that can drag on after a while into something special and meaningful. Being together, sharing an experience, all immersed in the same thing – that’s what distinguishes a long day from a day that really speaks to me and nourishes my soul. Living alone has made this more challenging for me, but now that I can understand so viscerally the value of being within community, I will make more of an effort to spend the day with other people. Being surrounded by people all focused on the same thing adds so much dimension to any experience!

By the way, the little CCAR prayerbook that I had brought along, in its prayer for the traveler upon leaving Israel and returning home again, ends with “Next year in Jerusalem!” That brought tears to my eyes.