No briefcase

Shabbat does not come in with the clink of polished black loafers. He does not settle his briefcase or his laptop case on the floor. He doesn’t even own a wallet.

Shabbat isn’t stressed out, doesn’t bring the office home with him. He doesn’t tell the kids to leave him alone for a few minutes while he unwinds.

It’s easy for Shabbat, because he doesn’t have an office. His workweek consists of sitting at a table with friends, with wine and good food. Shabbat comes in after the errands are done, when the table is set and everything is out of the oven.

Still, after Shabbat settles in he’s so likeable that it’s hard to be frustrated with his happy-go-lucky lifestyle. And I do keep inviting him back. The weekend wouldn’t be the same without him.


The Sabbath Bee

All day I have been traveling from flower to flower, distracted by every bright color under the sun. Now as darkness falls I lay down my burdens, the collected pollen of a day’s work, and I give myself over to a welcoming family and the sweetness of rest.


The first real day of spring: ימין ושמאל תפרוצי

After six months of winter, Shabbat exploded into spring. To the left and to the right daffodils and apple blossoms, fresh grass and blushes of green burst out. Shabbat brought with it the first perfect day of spring.

…Except that it wasn’t the first. Thursday was just as nice. Thursday was just as warm. But on Thursday, sunrise to sunset, I had ten minutes to spend outside.

Shabbat is not a perfect day. Shabbat is not the warm breeze, the fresh air or the greening terrain. These things could appear any day of the week.

So, what is Shabbat? Shabbat is the walk in the park, the moment spent under the apple tree. Shabbat is the chance to taste the sweetness that languished, unappreciated, for the first six days of the week.



Shabbat is a single flame, shining through our interwoven lives. Shabbat grows in intensity every time another soul joins her tapestry, dancing and growing until it seems that her light will illumine every dark place. The flame expands and brightens, overtaking the world of darkness until—suddenly—it goes out.