My Shabbat Evolution

Growing up, Shabbat was my most consistent connection to Judaism throughout each year. My family never really went to services, I didn't attend a particularly engaging or stimulating religious school (unlike TIOH Religious School!), and I never said a Hebrew or prayerful word until I went to a Jewish summer camp. Shabbat in my family was never centrally about religion or God, though. Rather, it was focused on family. Every Friday night, either at my parents' house or my aunt and uncle's house, our entire family would get together for dinner, each party being responsible for bringing a certain item for the meal. When I say the "entire family," I mean aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc. And when I say "every Friday," I mean "there were many nights when I was sooooooo frustrated I couldn't go out with my friends." I wasn't too popular in high school, though, so I have a feeling I wasn't really missing out on much. I just wanted to make my parents feel like I was. While we did say the blessings over the candles, wine, and challah, this consistency of family Shabbat dinners gave me more than simply a Jewish identity - it stressed the importance of family closeness, homemade dinners, wine, and personal relaxation.

When I went to college at Indiana University, I checked out Shabbats at the Hillel on campus. Though it seemed like a passable Jewish evening, it didn't reflect my Shabbat. At first, this was difficult - I was in the music school at IU and minoring in gender studies, and I wasn't running into too many Jews. But by my second year, I decided to continue my Shabbat experience from home, inviting friends (none of whom are Jewish) over for Shabbat dinner every Friday night. As the rules were from home, everyone was responsible for bringing something. Though I was only one who knew the blessings (some of them mumbled the Hebrew with great confidence), these Shabbat dinners felt just like home. The consistency, the food, the wine, and the relaxation were all there. Though my Shabbat dinners may not be deemed the most "religious" or "Jewish" experiences by conventional standards, they are what make me feel just that.

Now I'm back in my homeland of Southern California and, though I work a lot of Friday nights, I can still join my family for Shabbat dinner fairly regularly. The feeling of being there has never changed, and without it I know my Jewish identity would not be nearly as strong.

-Ari