Friday, January 11, 2019

Shabbat Meal

Shabbat starts at sunset on Friday evenings and tonight I did something I had not done for a long time: light Shabbos candles. [A note: Shabbat is Hebrew for the Sabbath, Shabbos is Yiddish for the same.]

I did not light the thick, white Rokeach Shabbos candles I bought several years ago on a markdown of a markdown at our local Kroger (this town has an infinitesimal Jewish population, so the candles weren't really flying off the shelf). Instead, I lit some hand-dipped candles that Warren and his daughter made years ago, recently dredged up from a basement bin as we try to reduce the amount of stuff we have in this house. I lit them quietly as the dusk came on, murmuring the Hebrew prayer.

And like that, it was Shabbat.

Our meal was homemade pizza: a yeast crust I started midday in between work and errands, chopped tomatoes out of our freezer (from our garden) mixed with a can of diced, a handful of cheeses, a candy onion (that's its name, truly) we had bought last summer and sliced and frozen, and spices.

Like this:



I didn't calculate the cost of the meal, but I figure the whole pizza (a 12 incher) comes to less than $5.00. The two salads I added to our plates? Maybe $1.00 each. (Yeah, I'm bragging.)

We ate in the warm kitchen, talking over our respective days, savoring the flavors in our mouths, cherishing the quiet time together.

The Shabbos candles burned lower as we turned from the table, Warren to shop work, I to cleaning up. I blew them out after finishing the dishes and putting the kitchen to rights.

This year I am trying to take time more slowly when I am not at work or otherwise in a situation where other issues and others' needs are more pressing. Many Jewish writers talk about carving out time, even suspending time, in the observance of Shabbat.

And tonight I feel I found some of that timelessness.

A favorite Thoreau quote (one of many, and one I have quoted in this blog before) speaks to that quality: "Time is but a stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars."

Let me go a-fishing.

4 comments:

Laurie said...

Such a lovely, peaceful post. That beautiful pizza has me drooling!

April said...

Laurie, the door is always open and there is always room at our table!

Out My window said...

Sabbath a day of rest that was a gift from God to rest from our labors. The Sabbath is special to me, as I truly try to rest on the Sabbath. I loved this post. Thankyou

Ellen said...

Homemade pizza! I am so jealous! And the spirit in which the meal was enjoyed made it all the more elegant. Mindfulness is not only for the religious.