The Light of Sarah’s Tent

Last Friday, 18 minutes prior to sunset, at precisely 4:59 pm, I lit Shabbat candles, said a traditional blessing and proceeded to eat a nice erev Shabbat meal.  Literally millions of Sabbath keepers all over the world did the same thing on Friday evening, but for me this particular erev Shabbat was most meaningful.  It had been eight months since I last lit candles or enjoyed the first meal of Shabbat in my home. Because my Torah community meets from 7:30-10:00 pm on erev Shabbat year ‘round, it is impossible for me, per halachic time (in combination with Daylight Savings), to light candles at home except during the months of November – February.  Although I do not like the early darkness that the conclusion of Daylight Savings Time brings with it, I enjoy immensely the few short months in which I can welcome the Sabbath through the lighting of candles and participating in a special meal.

 In relating my situation to a person who is Shomer Shabbat this past week, it was suggested that I should refrain from making a blessing over the candles on erev Shabbat due to the fact that I must drive to attend prayer and study with my community which is 25 miles away from my home (and thereby transgress the prohibition of lighting a fire on Shabbat).  When one pronounces the blessing over the candles they welcome the Shabbat by taking upon themselves all the obligations and restrictions regarding this holy time, one of which, literally stated in Torah is to “not kindle a fire” (Exodus 35:3). 

Although I have studied the various rationalizations within Conservative and Reformed sects of Judaism for driving on Shabbat (in order to attend shul) there is no getting around the fact that fire is produced within the engine of a car and that fuel is added to the fire each time one presses on the accelerator. Although this situation has been discussed and considered by the elders of my community, with the consensus that Shabbat is a holy convocation in which G-d’s people should assemble, the fact remains that by driving to shul one very literally breaks the commandment prohibiting kindling a fire. 

 Suddenly, the most meaningful tradition of lighting the candles caused me to consider a horrible paradox regarding my personal observance.  How hypocritical it seems to be so very careful to light two candles 18 minutes prior to sunset, each one a physical symbol of the two forms of the Shabbat commandment “to remember” and “to observe”, and then some 90 minutes later to “fire up” the automobile in order to attend shul.  Although the Shomer Shabbat was gracious in suggesting that only the blessing be omitted (in order to avoid using the candles for a sacred purpose), in reality to light candles 18 minutes prior to sunset, as a symbolic statement of caution and commitment to not kindle a fire on Shabbat, really should not be done at all by one who purposefully chooses to kindle a fire based on good intentions and community approval.

Although the “black and white” of this situation is very obvious, the idea of not lighting candles to welcome Shabbat saddened me, for traditionally this is considered one of three important mitzvot given to women specifically (along with the separation of challah and the laws of niddah/family purity).  How interesting to realize, through Parashah Chayei Sarah this week, that such traditions are very ancient, being linked all the way back to Sarah herself. 

Genesis 24 contains the details of Abraham’s servant finding a wife for his son Isaac.  Toward the end of the chapter the mission has been accomplished and Rebecca is brought back to Canaan to meet her future husband.  As with all first meetings there was the usual awkwardness as Isaac notices camels coming from afar (and neglects to notice a beautiful woman riding on one of them toward him) and Rebecca (according to the midrash) literally falls off of her camel upon seeing her future husband in the distance and recoups her composure by veiling herself prior to their meeting.  After the initial meeting is accomplished v. 67 relates;

And Isaac brought her into the tent of Sarah his mother; he married Rebecca, she became his wife, and he loved her; and thus was Isaac consoled after his mother. (Stone Chumash)

 The Hebrew of this verse literally reads; And Isaac brought her into the tent, Sarah, his mother ( וַיְבִאֶהָ יִצְחָק, הָאֹהֱלָה שָׂרָה אִמּוֹ).  From this Rashi understands that by bringing Rebecca into the tent of Sarah, his deceased mother, she became the very image of Sarah herself.  Midrash Genesis Rabbah 60:16 describes three phenomena associated with Sarah’s tent; a.) A cloud hung over it b.) There was a blessing on the dough she prepared there and c.) The candles she lit on Shabbat continued to burn until the following Shabbat.  

From this the commentators derive that Sarah’s tent was a precursor of the Mishkan as both contained the visible presence of HaShem in the Cloud of Glory, bread that stayed continually fresh (the traditional understanding of the showbread) and a perpetual light (the traditional understanding of the seventh light of the menorah).  The three miracles also reflect the three mitzvot designated uniquely for women.  The cloud of glory represents the continual presence of holiness brought into the home through the laws of family purity.  The blessing of the dough represents the mitzvah of separating challah and the continuous Shabbat flame represents the mitzvah of kindling the Sabbath candles.

Midrash Tanchuma (Genesis 24:1) presents the tradition that Proverbs 31 was originally the eulogy Abraham composed for Sarah upon her death, which later became part of the book of Proverbs itself. The ancient hymn “Eshet Chayil” (A Woman of Valor), based on this Proverb, is sung by observant Jewish husbands to their wives prior to the blessings over the wine and bread on erev Shabbat.  The Proverb contains many allusions to midrash involving Sarah and her tent, including that her candle goeth out not by night (Proverbs 31:13).

When Sarah passed away the phenomena in her tent ceased. Not only was the tent vacant and unable to provide open hospitality, continually fresh challah bread, and Shabbat candles that burned for seven days, but the visible presence of G-d (in the Cloud of Glory) was removed.  According to Genesis Rabbah, when Isaac brought Rebecca to the camp the first thing he noticed was the way she separated challah and handled the dough with cleanness.  Upon witnessing this he immediately brought her into the tent of his mother and the three phenomena returned as before. 

In Rashi’s understanding of this midrash when Rebecca was brought into Sarah’s tent, the Shabbat candles burned for seven days, a blessing was found in the dough, and the Cloud of Glory reappeared over the tent.  The commentators wonder why Rashi’s description of the phenomena returning to Sarah’s tent is in reverse order as given in the Genesis Rabbah account (which lists the cloud returning first, followed by the blessing upon the dough and then the Shabbat candles burning for seven days).

Genesis Rabbah presents the return of the miracles of Sarah’s tent in chronological order.  When Rebecca entered the the tent the cloud of G-d’s glory reappeared immediately.  Rebecca was in the midst of making challah dough when Isaac brought her into his mother’s tent initially.  As she finished this task the next thing to occur was a blessing upon the dough (causing it to remain fresh continually).  After this, Shabbat would come and the candles would be kindled and remain alight until the following Shabbat.

Yet, Torah expresses in v. 67 that Isaac did not proceed to marry Rebecca or fall in love with her until he was convinced that she was “Sarah, his mother”, having identical spiritual qualities of his mother.  According to Rashi, the highest priority in Isaac’s mind to confirm Rebecca’s spiritual righteousness would be to witness her performing an actual mitzvah.  Of the three phenomena of Sarah’s tent, only one, the lighting of candles (representing abstaining from kindling a fire on Shabbat) is a literal Torah mitzvah.  When Rebecca lit the Shabbat lights and they remained burning for seven days this was the most important confirmation of her spiritual character and commitment to Torah in everyday life.  [1]

The handling of the dough and separation of challah was not a literal Torah command but rather a pious action of carefulness and cleanness in kneading the dough, which also was an important characteristic of Rebecca, but yet secondary to carrying out a mitzvah.  Finally, the Cloud of Glory appearing at the door of the tent had nothing to do with Rebecca’s actions at all, but was instead a direct miracle of HaShem.  Therefore, the Cloud of Glory did not necessarily provide evidence of Rebecca’s personal righteousness and is listed last in order by Rashi as the least important phenomena in Isaac’s mind to confirm Rebecca’s worthiness to be a matriarch in the line of his mother Sarah. [2]

These traditional tales so filled with details of interest and inspiration bring to mind Paul’s midrash of Galatians 4:22-26 in which Sarah, being the mother of the son of promise (Isaac), is likened as the mother of every believer (v. 26).  In this way every Gentile woman who believes in Yeshua is a daughter of Sarah, who, like Rebecca, has opportunity to attain spiritual qualities identical to Sarah.  Unfortunately, in our modern day religious mindset the purely miraculous is often seen as the greatest confirmation of spirituality. If a miraculous healing occurs or a miraculous rescue of some sort, or if a miraculous “gift of the Spirit” is evident, the individual is understood to have great faith and the “special touch” of G-d upon their lives.  Next in line is a person’s actions in general everyday living. If they show piety, modesty and moderation in day to day activities this is considered a pretty good indicator of personal righteousness.  Last on the list is keeping the mitzvot, for too much emphasis on “rules” comes uncomfortably close to legalism which threatens the grace of G-d in the minds of many. 

I would imagine that some reading this post would consider the suggestion given to me by the Shomer Shabbat to be nothing more than a burdensome and picky halachic detail.  The fact that I have contemplated it and find myself in a paradox because of it might be viewed as being too concerned with unnecessarily strict observance, perhaps even bordering on legalism.  After all, Yeshua allowed his disciples to pick grain on the Sabbath and pointed out to the disapproving Pharisees that G-d “desires mercy not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6).  Surely G-d would show mercy toward one who is committed to meet with others on Shabbat despite the unavoidable necessity to travel by car to accomplish it.  For not only does Leviticus 23 describe the Shabbat as a holy convocation, but Yeshua’s custom was to assemble in the synagogue on that day, and the book of Hebrews admonishes that we not forsake assembling together. 

Yet, the truth still remains that not kindling a fire on Shabbat is a direct and literal command of scripture.  To work on Shabbat or desecrate it through disobedience carries with it the penalty of death and being cut-off from the community (karet).  How can we say that creative work, such a kindling a fire, may be done in order to assemble with community, when by doing such work on Shabbat we are cut-off from the community of G-d according to Torah? 

In Judaism there is a concept that when a positive and negative commandment conflict, the positive supersedes the negative. This seems to give a way out of the dilemma regarding driving a car in order to assemble on Shabbat.  Since lighting a fire is a prohibition (negative commandment) and a holy convocation is a positive commandment then assembling on Shabbat takes precedence over kindling a fire.  But, this concept of one commandment usurping the other is only true when both positive and negative commandments are between man and G-d.  In the case that the positive commandment is between man and man and the negative commandment is between man and G-d, the positive commandment cannot overrule a prohibition involving man and his relation to his Maker. [3] Therefore, assembling with others (man to man) cannot usurp the prohibition of lighting a fire on Shabbat (man to G-d).

The concept of mikra (convocation) as seen in Leviticus 23 is often highlighted in Messianic literature as a priority regarding Shabbat.  In some articles I have read, mikra is understood to hold the same meaning as “the assembly of believers” in the Apostolic Scriptures.  Yet, considering the actual Hebrew term mikraei kodesh (holy convocations) used in Leviticus 23 regarding Shabbat and the festivals, is quite revealing.  According to the commentators the most literal understanding of mikra is not “assembly” but rather a “calling” as in something “called out” in the sense of a “holy calling” or a time that calls one to holiness.   It’s also interesting to note in 23:2 that the holy convocations are proclaimed by the people and not by HaShem.  From this the sages derive the responsibility of the religious rulers (Sanhedrin) to establish the calendar and determine the dates of the festivals.  In this way, each festival date on the calendar is a proclamation that calls the individual Israelite to a greater level of holiness through observance of the festivals. The convocation itself is a “calling” not an assembly per se.  Instead, because such a calling is an opportunity for holiness, an assembly would certainly be appropriate, but is not specifically commanded

In a most logical sense, based on the literal context of Leviticus 23, the holy convocations described there cannot speak of an assembly because the nation in the wilderness was already assembled at the foot of Sinai or in camp formation around the Tabernacle each Shabbat.  Once the wilderness experience ended the holy convocation or “proclamation that calls one to holiness” was practically understood as an invitation for G-d’s people to gather in prayer (according to Nachmanides), for the only festivals in which men were commanded to assemble at the Temple were Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot.   

In the Apostolic Scriptures, the Greek word ekklēsia/ἐκκλησία (used 115 times for assembly or church in the KJV) as well as the Greek word episunagōgē /ἐπισυναγωγή (used in Hebrews 10:25 regarding not forsaking “assembling yourselves together”) are not used in the LXX to translate mikra (convocation).  Rather, anagnōsis/ἀνάγνωσις and klētos/κλητός are Greek words used in the Apostolic Scriptures which are employed in the LXX to translate mikraAnagnōsis is found three times and in all cases refers to the reading of scripture publicly (Acts 13:15, 2 Cor 3:14, 1 Tim 4:13).  Klētos has 11 occurrences each time describing those who are “called”.  This seems to indicate that the most literal definition of mikra (convocation) in regard to religious life in general and observing the festivals/Shabbat in particular, focuses on a public proclamation or personal calling rather than assembling together with other believers. 

Perhaps for this very reason the Orthodox rabbis teach that if one can only attend synagogue on Shabbat by means of driving, they should stay home and pray privately.  Shabbat is never understood in a rabbinic sense as a  day of communal prayer, study or fellowship, neither is it a time for public scripture reading — for Jews assemble daily for prayer, read Torah in the synagogue on Mondays and Thursdays, and have other opportunities for fellowship and study throughout the week.  Instead, Shabbat is understood first and foremost as a day of rest, in perfect keeping with the Torah definition of it. [4]

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

As a daughter of Sarah I too have experienced miracles in my tent of life.  The opening of my eyes to the beauty and truth Torah (in the midst of a time of severe rebellion against G-d), and the opportunity to meet with like-minded believers in my area on a regular basis are truly events straight from the hand of HaShem.  My day to day life is marked out by a desire for piety as well as modesty and moderation that is seen as “odd” by many in the work-a-day world. But the truest determination of my spiritual character is defined by my seriousness and commitment to Torah and the mitzvot found there. 

For this reason I will spend the upcoming erev Shabbat in my “tent”.  At home, apart from my community leaving behind a paradox that I must come to terms with, at least for one blissful 25 hour period.  What will become of this down the road, I don’t know as of yet.  All I know is that my deepest desire it to have a tent full of light, like Sarah’s, filled with the light of Torah truth and practice that doesn’t darken after Havdalah, but continues to illuminate every facet of existence, every day of the week.

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[1] The Shabbos Light (based on Likkutei Sichos, vol. 15, pp. 163-173), available at:  http://www.sichosinenglish.org/essays/51.htm

[2] Ibid

[3] Rabbi Yosef Kalatsky, Parashas Kedoshim, available at:  http://www.torah.org/learning/beyond-pshat/5763/kedoshim.html

[4] Rabbi Hayim Halevy Donin, To Be a Jew, Basic Books, New York, 1991, p. 96