From the heart of Jerusalem: Confucious reveals Shabbat's wisdom

I remember visiting my grandparents when I was 14. They live in Hong Kong.  We met in the airport and headed to baggage-claim.  At the conveyer belt, my fifteen-year-old brother Jonathan pulled out his assigned-reading book, which he was pressured to finish before the weekend.  He was engaged in the reading and didn’t notice when our bags arrived and we collected them.  However trivial this oversight seemed at the time, it did not go unnoticed by Pó Pó (Chinese for Grandma).  Later in the car, Pó Pó warmly but sternly criticized Jonathan’s inattention, explaining to him the age-old Chinese notion of (huo zai dang xia)—“living in the moment.”

As the years passed, this Chinese phrase continued to resurface in conversation every time we saw Pó Pó, and I pitied Jonathan who had been doomed to eternal censure for reading at the wrong moment.  But Pó Pó’s message still didn’t make sense to me.  Throughout our childhood, homework always came before television; broccoli always preceded ice cream.  We were taught to work now and play later.  But now we were told to “live in the moment,” a phrase I associated with hedonism and procrastination.  When my understanding of Pó Pó’s advice presented this obvious contradiction to my values, I (in my adolescent foolishness) dismissed the ancient axiom as outdated, inapplicable to the industrial modern day. 

But Chinese wisdom wasn’t the only ancient philosophy I was supposed to integrate into my life.  I was also barraged by Judaism, an equally mystifying tradition.  Many aspects of observance seemed arbitrary and I failed to see the underlying values.  That was why I came to Israel for the year—to explore the deeper principles captured in halachic practice. 

One piece of observance that most puzzled me was Shabbat.  I thought Shabbat’s purpose was to be a day of rest. It didn’t make sense to me that once I had gotten enough sleep, I should still be forced into inactivity and in doing so intentionally stifle a powerful will to work and produce.  It seemed glaringly counterproductive and unsophisticated. 

And on my very first Shabbat at Yeshivat Orayta I saw how wrong I had been.  At its core, Shabbat is not about prohibitions and inactivity per se.  It is about the unique opportunity presented when unnecessary distractions are held back.  After working towards a future potential for six days, Shabbat is the time to appreciate the present reality.  A person can work and work, promising that he’ll enjoy the fruits of his labor once he’s finished.  This becomes endlessly frustrating when the work never finishes.  Shabbat forces the Jew to value and enjoy where he is in his journey rather than only worry about where he wants to go.  And that’s the key to happiness. 

I was particularly struck when I heard the words Rav Binny Freedman chose to describe this opportunity—one day out of seven to “live in the moment.” 

Finally it all came together.  Despite geographic disparity, Jewish and Chinese cultures contained a consistent message, attesting to their truth-claims.  Not only did Pó Pó’s advice now make sense but it reflected a life-changing perspective.  Pó Pó was not suggesting we shirk responsibilities to constantly indulge in instant gratification.  Rather she was teaching us to be aware of the present rather than to concern only over the future. 

The reality was that, by reading his book, Jonathan had removed himself from our family.  My dad did not need help gathering the bags; but that wasn’t the point.  Jonathan had missed the chance to help his parents, an opportunity far more valuable than reading a page of some book.  Pó Pó was explaining that, before engrossing oneself in preparations for the future, one needs to make sure he’s not failing to seize the present opportunity. Life’s riches are actually experienced in the very moment. Shabbat is that very moment each week.

Samuel Fisher grew up in Newton, Massachusetts and graduated from Maimonides School in 2010. He is spending the year studying in Yeshivat Orayta in the Old City of Jerusalem after which he will attend Harvard College.