A Street without Traffic on Shabbat
SHABBAT SHOLOM Just in case you know as little Hebrew as me, Shabbat is the Jewish Sabbath day and Sholom means peace. So, when the faithful great each other with Shabbat Shalom, they are wishing each other a peaceful Sabbath. Oh, so long ago, I remember my first Shabbat in Israel because all public transportation in the country shut down, completely. I was stranded in a location where I really didn't care to find myself. Shabbat lasts from Friday sunset to Saturday sunset. So, I was stuck where I was until the buses started up again on Sunday morning.
My travels have been so much more interesting since I began my muraling around the world. And, Shabbat was an absolutely amazing experience this time around. I celebrated this Shabbat with the principal of the Painter's House, Eitan, and his family. My hosts for the evening were his wife's parents. I must say, it was quite a wonderful event and such a spread of food! I know, it wasn't just for me. These blessed parents have five of their seven grown children living within walking distance of their home. The grandchildren are about the same ages. They go to the same schools, and are a part of a very large, very close family. Every Shabbat, there is host of children and grandchildren around the grandparent's table.
During Shabbat, I already knew about public transportation, and the Jewish people don't drive their personal vehicles either. But, I was about to learn some other things. Of course, I was open to learn all I could. Of course, I hoped I wouldn't do anything stupid and offensive. And, of course, I did do a few things wrong, but my gracious hosts were not offended.
The first thing wrong? After washing my hands upon arrival, I flipped off the light switch in the bathroom. Isn't that what you do? I always aim to conserve energy costs. Well, I learned that on the Sabbath, conservative Jews do not flip light switches on or off. I went back to the bathroom immediately.
And, the second thing wrong? My hosts were very interested in what I do with my murals around the world. I was willing to share, of course. Unfortunately, my phone has a data limit. It has never once been an issue. However, in Israel, I've used it to help track my location when traveling either in a market place (like the maze in Nazareth) or on a bus. I used up my allotment rather quickly and am anxiously waiting for the next month's service to come. So, I asked my hostess if I could show it to her on her phone. The faithful don't touch their phones on the Sabbath. Fortunately, my phone cooperated and I could show successfully share my work.
The Feast I was so pleased to be a part of this family experience. It was a honor that they would share this with me. Before the meal, the family sang a song about the Shabbat. It was long song and there were no hymnals. Everyone knew the words because it was sung every week. I may forget every event and the correct order, but as I recall, the next thing on the schedule was the blessing of the bread. Every member of the family went to the kitchen to wash their hands. Upon returning, there was to be no talking. And, that is always a challenge for little ones around the planet and in Jerusalem. The grandfather pronounced the blessing, sprinkled salt over the bread, broke it into pieces, and passed it around to all members of the family.
The next part of the evening was my favorite. Each father was to bless his children following the example of Jacob blessing Joseph's sons, Ephraim and Manashe (Genesis 48:20). Every child went to their "abba" for the blessing. He held each child's head with both hands and kissed the top of each head. The words spoken over the children are, "May God bless you and keep you safe. May God shine God's light on you and be gracious to you. May God watch over you and grant you peace." Eitan said that when he grew up, the father only did this once a year. However, his wife's family does this every week, and he has adopted this custom. I think he made the right decision. It was a beautiful moment to witness.
Yes, as I said, Grandmother went all out on this feast. There were two kinds of salad, a roast with carrots and potatoes, mustard chicken (which I missed because there was just too much to eat), meatballs in a cabbage dish, and dessert with fresh blueberries, strawberries, coffee cake, chocolate, and -- my personal favorite -- stuffed dates. What, you may ask, is a date stuffed with? The main thing I saw was a walnut. I really didn't take the time to investigate. I was too busy enjoying the taste. But, a little research revealed that there was most likely some goat cheese under that nut. And, there are so many things that could be stuffed in a date including peanut butter, almonds, cashews, sun-dried tomatoes, honey, red pepper flakes, pomegranate seeds, mango chutney, a hint of lemon juice, blackberries, raspberries, chopped pistachios, pecans, orange zest, and chocolate chips. However, even if you add nothing to the dates, they are simply delicious.
The Shabbat meal ending with a prayer. It was long enough that prayer booklets were passed out. When the food was finished and the prayer was over, some of the younger children were ready for bed. It was time to call it an evening. But, it wasn't too late to make one more blunder. I have a book that I take with me around the world, Oh, the Places You'll Go. I ask mural painters and people I meet to sign the book. So, I asked the grandmother if she would sign it for me. Well, that's one more thing that isn't done on Shabbat.
It was such a remarkable evening for me and such a celebration of family. I'm so thankful that this family was willing to share it with a stray American artist. Both the food and the memories of the experience were savored on the walk home.
The Second Feast And, I am surprised to say, that this was not the end of my Shabbat feasting. The next day, a teacher from the Painter's House, Yona, invited me to have a Saturday feast with his family. I was not the first guest to celebrate Shabbat with Yona's family. His father even wrote a booklet for family guests to explain their traditions. It was written in Hebrew, again with Hebrew words written in the English alphabet, and also translated into English. It's a treasure trove of information for anyone interested in learning about the Shabbat traditions.
Some things were the same in both of my Shabbat celebrations, but there was one delightful difference. I'd never heard of it before, but the first Saturday of February is Ice Cream for Breakfast Day. Hey, it works for me; I picked the right day to celebrate with this family. The tradition started in an effort to get out -- for even a moment -- of the winter doldrums. Yona's parents learned about the celebration in the States, brought it with them to Montreal, Canada, and eventually it made it's way to Israel. Now, I can't read Hebrew, but I recognized that the four cartons on the table were all Ben & Jerry's. We had a delicious breakfast of ice cream with an additional choice of chocolate syrup, whipped cream, Hershey's kisses, chocolate chips, and all sorts of sprinkles. Who needed to eat anything else?
We did.
Now, when the more traditional part of the Shabbat meal began, there were a couple of differences from the previous night. I was given the chance to wear a yamaka. It's the traditional Jewish cap that devout men wear all the time. I'd never been offered that chance before and I did not pass on it. If you want to see photos, remember that nobody touches their phones on Shabbat. I'm guessing that cameras are in the same category. I didn't even ask. And, as far as I know, I didn't make any Sabbath Day blunders this go around.
I was also invited to wash my hands when each family member went to the kitchen. The washing is not for actual cleanliness. The purpose is for spiritual purification. Rings are removed because there should be nothing between the water and your hands. There was a unique pitcher with two handles. Each person poured water three times on each hand. Then, there was a blessing to repeat.
Mama Yona prepared a feast as well. There was a salad, salmon, roasted Brussels sprouts, and an absolutely delicious ravioli with spinach dish. Dessert was fresh strawberries and grapes.
Just as the previous evening, the meal is ended with a prayer of grace, thanking God for his blessings. According to Papa Yona, "Expressing our gratitude is an act of humility, of appreciation, but also essential in finding fulfillment in life. The more we acknowledge the good in our lives, the more we feel good about our lives." It works for me. In addition to being thankful for this Shabbat celebration and a great meal, I am extremely grateful for yet another family willing to open their doors to a wandering artist at their doorstep. Toda le'el. (Thank God.)