Yitro
Exodus 18:1-20:23
Isaiah 6:1-7:6, 9:5-6
An industrial baron once remarked to Mark Twain: “Before I die, I plan to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land where I will climb to the top of Mount Sinai and read the Ten Commandments aloud.”
Twain thought for a moment and asked: “Why don’t you just stay home and keep them?”
This anecdote is reminiscent of a declaration that Jews frequently make: “I am a good Jew; I keep the Ten Commandments.” Of course, when they make this comment, they fail to remember what is in the Ten Commandments, the centerpiece of Yitro, this week’s Torah portion.
For example, the longest and most detailed commandment, “remember the Sabbath,” is most frequently overlooked by modern Jews. Perhaps this is because the fourth commandment, the only one that has ritual requirements associated with it, does not clearly define what “rest” means.
The subject of debate and interpretation for millennia, this commandment has been the most obvious sign of belonging to the sacred community of Israel.
In the ancient world, the idea that all people have the right to rest one day in seven was a startlingly new concept. Roman writers mocked Shabbat observance by remarking that it wasted one-seventh of an entire life. In spite of this, first-century historian Flavius Josephus commented on Shabbat observance in the non-Jewish community:
The masses have long since shown a keen desire to adopt our religious observances, and there is not one city, Greek or barbarian, nor a single nation, to which our custom of abstaining from work on the seventh day has not spread, and where the feasts and lighting of candles and many of our prohibitions in the matter of food are not observed (Against Apion 2:39).
Post-biblical sources portrayed the observance of the Sabbath as a defining characteristic of Jewish faiths. Israel Zangwill characterized Shabbat as “the hub of the Jew’s universe.” Abraham Joshua Heschel referred to it as “a majestic cathedral in time.” Ahad Ha’am’s classic statement on Shabbat defined it as a primary source of Jewish survival: “One can say without exaggeration that more than Israel has kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath has kept Israel.”
So important did the rabbis consider Shabbat that they maintained that its observance was equal to all of the other commandments. With such importance placed on the observance of Shabbat, it is curious that its meaning and observance have largely been diminished in a majority of Jewish homes.
Perhaps the modern Jew’s reluctance to embrace Shabbat is due to his focus on the prohibitions rather than the celebrations of Shabbat. While there is no inventory of what may be done to sanctify Shabbat, the Mishnah (Tractate Shabbat) catalogues 39 forbidden categories of work.
Thus, for many Jews, the observance of Shabbat became something to escape or to ignore entirely because its restraints seemed to overwhelm the possibility for joyous celebration.
This is the theme of Yehuda Amichai’s poem, “A Lie on Shabbat,” in which a young boy lies to his father about why he was not at communal worship: “I went to a different shul.” He continued this deceit for the rest of his father’s life.
The most serious challenge facing the Jew interested in Shabbat observance is avoiding the dulling impact of repetitive, restrictive ritual and instead find ways of filling that day with purpose. It is a formidable task because those who find the Sabbath meaningless have forgotten or never knew what to look for, and this lapse of observance is not easily restored. This allegory tells us where to begin our search:
A great pianist was once asked by an admirer, “How do you handle the notes as well as you do?”
The artist replied, “The notes I handle no better than many pianists, but the pauses between the notes — ah, that is where the art resides!”
Shabbat is the pause between the notes of life. It should be used to create or restore a sense of serenity and sanctity that is absent the rest of the week. Shabbat is more than the restrictive lists of “do nots.” It is a list of “dos” that should be designed to create harmony and wholeness.
Once a Jew acknowledges this shift in focus from the restrictive to the liberating, he or she can begin to explore the myriad of ways to make Shabbat an opportunity to enrich life.