Parsha of the week

Winging it creatively

Posted

In the frenzy of last weekend, with many shuls shutting their doors, many of us were faced with the prospect of experiencing Shabbos in a way we had not before. Going to shul was off the table, so what do you do?

Friday night I prayed outside. I took my time. I danced a little during L’cha Dodi (which I never do in shul), and I made sure not to go back inside until the last word of Yigdal.

Without the walk home from shul, however, we were able to begin our Shabbos meal much earlier than usual. We were relaxed in a way that is sometimes necessary to manufacture. Zemiros around the table were much more lively than usual.

I tried to sleep in, but alas, my internal clock could not embrace reality and I was up before 7 am. So after a coffee and chat with an earlier riser, I woke up my boys for davening at 9:30 am. My pre-bar-mitzvah boy led Pesukei D’Zimrah, my bar-mitzvah son led Shacharis, I leined the Parsha, Parah, and Haftorah from a Tikkun, and my pre-bar-mitzvah son led Mussaf. Of course we skipped all the parts that require a minyan. But our “minyan” took 1.5 hours — we experienced a regular davening minus kaddish, kedusha, and chazarat hashatz. And it was a really special experience. (My daughters were invited, but they chose to do things their own way.)

I share this because in the event that shuls remain closed, I hope others will take the opportunity to be inspired and find innovate ways to pray with their families at home.

Shabbos is mentioned in the Torah in parsha KiSisa and parsha of Vayakhel — but what a difference between the two depictions!

In KiSisa, the people are urged to keep Shabbos while being warned of the dire consequences to those who desecrate the Shabbos. In Vayakhel, while there is a mention of the same consequence, the focus is on the last verse in the segment that talks about avoiding the kindling of fire.

And so I’d like to take a homiletic leap off the page to suggest that this is a reflection of our experience these weeks, especially as shuls will likely remain closed this coming Shabbos as well.

The first week we needed to remember what makes Shabbos holy and special. There was even a concern that anyone who might not follow the rules of this past Shabbos could be putting others in danger and at risk. While I am not suggesting that those who did not follow the rules should have been put to death, the feeling behind the closures was one of “death hangs in the balance.” How else could we justify closing down our needed opportuntiies to gather in Tefillah as we do every week?

The second week, as we are more used to the isolation and the need to follow the rules to prevent a virus from spreading, we find ourselves faced with a different calculation — how can we avoid the spreading of a fire?

And I think that more than anything, two things have emerged from these unique Shabbos experiences. One, we discover how important our community is and how important our communal institutions are. Two, we discover how holiness and a sense of purpose are each for us to determine and create for ourselves.

Shabbos could have been sad, drab, boring. But we took the chance and made it special and memorable. What will you now do should we be faced with an isolated Shabbos again?

Hopefully we’ll all embrace the opportunity to raise it up a notch and make things extraordinary.

May we see a return to normalcy soon!