Scheduling work or business around sabbath and holiday observance is always a challenge. I am reminded of this every time I have to explain to someone why I cannot attend an important mandatory-all-hands work function on a Friday evening. There are time-bound imperatives of Jewish law that are foreign to non-Jews and hard to translate into the language of mainstream society. For example, according to Jewish law, one may carry in the public domain on the sabbath only if there is an eruv. Here we have the intersection of two concepts: carrying – hotzaah mereshut lereshut (הוצאה מרשות לרשות) [transferring between domains], and eruv [an enclosed area for carrying within a semi-public domain]. These are not easy concepts to get across to someone who lacks a traditional Jewish education.
Perhaps the hardest concept to get across is that Jewish sacred time requires a level of preparation that is unlike anything outside of Torah observance. It requires one’s highest levels of attention to detail and intention to get things right. Fail to properly prepare things like hot food or a light to read by, and you will have to do without them.
It is never a good idea to leave preparations to the last minute, especially when the sabbath begins early as it does during the winter months. In winter the sun sets and Shabbat arrives at around 4pm in Vancouver. Going from the work week into sundown requires having enough time to put things into ‘sabbath mode’ – e.g., switching appliances and timers to their sabbath settings, putting food on the blech [food warmer], and emptying one’s pockets of objects that cannot be handled on the sabbath like money and pens. Those things must be done shortly before bringing in Shabbat. Other things, like setting up the candlesticks, making the bed(s) or setting the dinner table, can be done at any earlier time that is convenient.
When I was single, living alone, I did most of the preparation on Thursday nights, and put the house in Shabbat mode as much as possible before leaving for work on Friday mornings. If I had to, I could get home twenty minutes before candle-lighting, get everything set for shabbat, and be out the door for the walk to shul with a minute to spare. That is, as long as I did not check for phone messages, open the mail, or mind missing a shower and a change of clothes.
Last-minute arrivals home from work have happened to me a few times due to the exigencies of everyday life. The worst case was one week in Los Angeles when a traffic jam turned my 45-minute commute into 2 ½ hours. I skidded into the driveway, bolted out of the car, and bounded through the front door at exactly candle-lighting time. I had to take advantage of the 18-minute grace period between the established candle-lighting time and the actual time of sunset to do those last-minute non-negotiable chores.
In my private practice professional work, time is not an issue. I can schedule client meetings at mutually convenient times, generally avoiding Friday afternoons. Working at the college is different. There, shabbat and holiday schedules become the sole focus of the twice-yearly negotiation of my teaching schedule. In theory, faculty are given much latitude to express preferences for days and times they would like to schedule classes and take personal holidays. In practice, all of my preferences have had to be devoted to shabbat and Jewish holidays.
In my many conversations about the time-bound nature of Jewish observance, the part that most people seem to struggle with is that there are no exemptions or dispensations. Unless it is a matter of life or limb, there are no exceptions. For example, it is forbidden to extinguish a fire on the sabbath or a holiday. If one is trapped in a house fire on Shabbat, and the only way out is to extinguish the flame, one may do so to save a life. However, if it is possible to escape without extinguishing a flame, then one must do so, even though it would mean loss of the house.
The intent of the law is not to restrict our enjoyment of life; it is to set the parameters of sacred time and space to maximize our access to what is most important in life. To illustrate this, Tractate Beitzah 22a in the Talmud discusses a couple who want to have marital relations in the dark on a holiday night, but they forgot to turn off the bedroom light before sundown.
אַבָּא בַּר מָרְתָא מֵאַבָּיֵי: מַהוּ לְכַבּוֹת אֶת הַנֵּר מִפְּנֵי דָּבָר אַחֵר? אָמַר לוֹ: אֶפְשָׁר בְּבַיִת אַח.
Abba bar Marta raised a dilemma before Abaye: What is the halakha with regard to extinguishing a lamp that is burning in a room on a Festival for another matter, a euphemism for marital relations? Since it is prohibited to have relations in a room where a lamp is burning, may one extinguish a lamp for this purpose? Abaye said to him: One may not extinguish it, as it is possible to have relations in a different room.
אֵין לוֹ בַּיִת אַחֵר, מַאי? אֶפְשָׁר לַעֲשׂוֹת לוֹ מְחִיצָה. אֵין לוֹ לַעֲשׂוֹת מְחִיצָה, מַאי? אֶפְשָׁר לִכְפּוֹת עָלָיו אֶת הַכְּלִי. אֵין לוֹ כְּלִי, מַאי? אֲמַר לֵיהּ: אָסוּר.
Abba bar Marta continued: If he does not have a different room, what should he do? Abaye replied: It is possible to erect for oneself a partition out of sheets and engage in relations on the other side of the partition. Abba bar Marta asked further: If he does not have sheets to erect a partition, what should he do? Abaye answered: It is possible to invert a vessel over the lamp in order to hide the light. Abba bar Marta further inquired: If he does not have a vessel, what should he do? Abaye said to him: It is prohibited; one may not extinguish the lamp.
The case of marital relations is a perfect one to illustrate the intent and scope of the law. It combines the strongest aspects of the sacred and the mundane. Sex for procreation is a sacred and fundamental commandment; it is the first commandment mentioned in the Torah. Sex in marital relations is also one of everyday life’s fundamental pleasures. Abba bar Marta and Abaye remind us that all the imperatives of heaven and all the pleasures of earth are subject to the laws of the sabbath and holidays.
Every winter semester I teach until 12:20 pm on Fridays at my college’s New Westminster campus. It takes me an hour to commute home to Vancouver on public transit. Recently on a Friday in December, the subway and buses stopped running due to an emergency at 2:20 during the last leg of my commute home. I had to walk home from downtown; it took one hour and 15 minutes. I made it home with 50 minutes to spare.
Walking home that day with my pockets and pack full of things that cannot be carried on Shabbat, I got to thinking about what I would have had to do if the system had broken down close to campus. What is my likely worst-case scenario? It is sundown on Friday and I am trapped in an elevated train in New Westminster, having to abandon my phone, wallet, and laptop. It is a four-hour walk home through some sketchy neighbourhoods.
Surely – one might argue – Gd does not want an old man to walk 17km after dark with empty pockets for the sake of celebrating the sabbath! To the uninitiated, it seems like I should be able to keep transferring through the transit system or accept a ride from someone; let them do for me what I am not allowed to do for myself and let me keep my belongings. After all, why should one suffer when their intentions were good and their preparations were made in good faith? The reality is that what little hope there is of salvaging any part of such a situation is enormously complicated and far, far from guaranteed.
The worst-case scenario is not to be taken as an argument for a leniency or a legal loophole. Here and now, in the 21st century we have excellent clocks and maps. We know exactly when the sun sets everywhere on Earth, and we know what we need to do to be prepared. In the worst-case scenario I have 18 minutes to stow my gear and settle in for either a long walk or a long sit. Maybe I go back to my office and camp out there. Maybe I can check into a hotel at the last minute and camp out there. Maybe this is why I always keep a snack in my pack on Fridays; so that I will not go hungry in the event of my worst-case scenario.
When all is said and done, one may not extinguish the lamp. Keeping our laws has sustained the Jewish people for 3,333 years and still counting. When seen this way, sabbath observance is our greatest freedom. Keeping the sabbath is never a burden; when we keep Shabbat, it is our best-case scenario.
Shabbat Shalom,
Dr. Terry Neiman
