Have you ever wondered why we measure the hour, minute, and second in numbers? The day of the week in names? The date of the month in numbers? The month in names? And the year in numbers? Or is that just one of those things that makes sense, so you don’t really think about it?
In this series of articles, I’m inviting you to think about all kinds of little things that we take for granted in our Western world. Because in a Hebrew mindset, many of these things are different.
I don’t know whether ancient Israelites measured hours and minutes in numbers. In Shmuel I 8:5, for example, the prophet never says, “Assemble all Israel at Mizpa at 2pm”
In B’reishit 22:3, Avraham saddled his donkey “early the next morning,” not “at 7am the next day.”
I don’t know of any references to numeric time anywhere in the TaNaKh, though I could be wrong. So my guess is that time is measured by the position of the sun, with designations like the ones mentioned in my first article, about the day — erev, layla, boker, etc.
Even when we depend upon clock-based hours, for example when a minyan gathers before the workday, as opposed to when the sun rises, the Hebrew concept of clock-time is different. If daylight hours are shorter in the winter, then an hour is less than 60 minutes. So today, as I write this in the month of Tevet, I’m informed by Chabad.org’s Zmanim calculator that a “proportional hour” of daytime is currently 45 minutes and 37 seconds.
My mind is blown by this. Is yours? And if so, think about this: why is it that some months have more days than others, and some years have an extra day (or month in the Hebrew calendar) than others? And since we make those adjustments for time — then why wouldn’t we make a similar re-calculation for hours?
It’s all part of decolonizing, my friends. Or perhaps we can think of it as de-mechanizing.
Now here’s the fun question: how would we experience time in winter when an hour is 45 minutes? Or in summer when an hour is more than 60 minutes?
Naming Times of Day, Numbering Days of the Week
On the other hand, and also in contrast to the way we view things in the West, the Hebrew worldview is consistent about using numbers instead of names – for the day of the week, day of the month, the month, and year.
The days of the week begin after Shabbat, with yom rishon – the first day (or head of days). These are the six weekdays:
Yom rishon
Yom sheini
Yom shlishi
Yom revi’i
Yom ḥamishi
Yom shishi
After that is the one day that’s so special, it gets a name instead of a number (though its name has letters from the ordinal seventh, shvi’it.) This is the day that the rest of the week was leading up to:
Shabbat
The crown of our week. The marker of holy time. The opportunity for sacred rest. A day that wears a crown — that is called a queen. What does it mean to be ruled by Shabbat?
Shabbat is also referred to as a bride. What does it mean to be married to the seventh day?
Reveling in rest on Shabbat is no trifle. It’s such an important commandment that it made it into the Top Ten Statements (Aseret HaDibrot). And Shabbat was so nice, HaShem commanded it twice — using different wordings for the repetitions. In Sh’mot 20:8, we Israelites are told to zakhor – “remember” the day of Shabbat and keep it holy, because HaShem rested on the seventh day (b’Yom Hashvi’i), therefore blessing and hallowing it. Whereas in D’varim 5:12, we are commanded to shamor – “guard,” or “keep” or “watch [over]” the day of Shabbat, keeping in mind that you were a slave in Egypt and HaShem freed you with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.
This is a weekly consciousness-raising command to remember that we are not slaves, not to Pharaoh nor to our boss or our job or to social media, or anything other than HaShem. So don’t lose yourself in work or technology.
What can you do to remember and safeguard Shabbat, and keep it holy? Perhaps you already follow many observances, such as avoiding 39 melakhot, forms of work, on Shabbat. But does it feel magical and special to you? Does it feel like you are rejoicing in your bride, every week? Or does it feel like a loveless marriage, more focussed on chores and obligations than intimacy and connection?
Perhaps you don’t currently have a practice of marking Shabbat as holy. There are a million ways you can enter this practice. Let me share with you a few.
Lighting candles before the sun sets on a Friday night is an excellent way to mark off sacred time. It also adds ambience to dinner. When you say the brakha (blessing) and close your eyes, that gives you a moment to feel the energy enter your space. I like to circle the candles three times, bringing the light into my face, thinking about my Ashkenazi ancestors as I connect myself to generations of my family.
Friday night dinner is also really special, and can have a different quality from any other meal. When I lived at my Bubie’s house, I would invite my parents over, and we had a nice weekly chance to connect as a family. When I lived on my own in downtown Toronto, I invited all my Jewish friends over for a pot luck Shabbat meal. Sometimes I recruited people that I had just met in shul that night, and we’d have 20-40 people. We would go around and invite each person to share their highlights and lowlights of the week.
Now I live in a small city without much Jewish community. For a while I had an ongoing open invitation for (non-Jewish) friends to join me for a special, candle-lit Friday night dinner party. Usually two different people show up, and it’s just the two people who needed to meet each other. In plague times, I often eat dinner alone, preparing something nicer than usual, slowly savouring the feast, and it’s my weekly opportunity to unwind, reflect on the past week, and stare at the wall as it gets darker when the candles slowly peter out. Every one of these Shabbat dinners feel magical.
As well as food, another way to make something festive is with music. And specifically, I mean singing. Whether alone or harmonizing with others, music adds to the mood, especially when you sing the same melodies every Shabbat and they become songs you (and your friends) crave. There are songs for welcoming Shabbat before it begins (Kabbalat Shabbat), for bonding with the family, friends, and angels before dinner (Shalom Aleikhem), for singing during each meal, and blessings after each meal (Birkat HaMazon). The Shabbat playlist has you covered, as much or as little as you want.
And for those who are married, it’s actually a mitzvah to rejoice not only in the Shabbat bride, but in your partner, on the holy day. Far from the stereotype of “spirituality” being at odds with enjoying physical pleasure, Hebrew culture is actually very pro-sex, especially when it comes to a sacred context like honouring Shabbat with intimacy.
As well as adding holiness to your life, there is a lot you can do to safeguard Shabbat, protecting it from the detritus of the workweek. For example, a few months ago I became addicted to an app, allowing it to take over my life. To protect my mental health, I decided to put away my phone and computer for the duration of Shabbat. I’ve kept this practice ever since, and love my weekly vacation from screens.
By contrast, my best friend decided not to make any major purchases on Shabbat, nor to make any big decisions on that day of rest. Some people make a point of not talking about business, and dedicate the day to loftier topics. Some families have a rule against fighting for the day, and instead give people extra slack, assume best intentions, and put grudges aside (that would be great as a daily practice, but even starting one day a week is monumental). For those who hate their daily commute, making a point of not going in their car can make a huge difference.
Another idea is to not make any plans for the day, allowing things to unfold as they may. Or at least nothing that needs to start at a specific time. This can lead to a leisurely lunch that lasts all day, while contemplating the universe. It can help to live within walking distance of your community, when it’s likely that you might see a friend on your way to the park, or neighbours can knock on each others’ doors. Another lovely activity is to study Torah and/or other texts you consider important.
Some people make a point of buying something that they will use for the first time on Shabbat — it could be a new item of clothing or jewelry, a book, tasty food, or whatever. This brings into focus that Shabbat is not only a special time to savour, but something to look forward to, all week long.
We mark sacred time in its coming, but also in its going. Light another candle, a special, braided candle. Sing a cheerful tune. Drink a glass of wine. Cheer yourself up: smell sweet spices, like clove or fresh cinnamon. One person who used to join me in a weekly Havdala practice called it “Lovedala.” Honour your own Lovedala practice.
What is your current practice around and leading up to Shabbat? Does it feel elevated? Exciting? Is there more you could do to remember its sanctity? Is there more you could do to safeguard it from the encroachment of the mundane world?
