My husband and I were invited to an evening dinner at a friend’s apartment in Manhattan. I thought this was a kind invitation from a friend to join them in their home and not much more, until my husband informed me that our friend is Jewish and this was a Shabbat dinner. Our friends told us not to be obligated to bring any gifts or dishes to the meal, but a bottle of wine would not be refused. This comment made me giggle at first and now after further education I realize that it was really a warning disguised in a joke as some ingredients are prohibited on Shabbat.

As soon as we arrived at our friend’s place we were greeted with warm handshakes from her boyfriend and both Jewish and non-Jewish friends. Little did I know that by having gentiles like us at their Shabbat dinner was part of the ceremony. All knowing Wikipedia calls it hachnasat orchim, which was defined as hospitality. And now I wonder does religion or tradition mandate hospitality, how often, and to whom? My family would have missionaries over for weekly Sunday meals once and awhile, and a concerted effort was only made to invite true “outsiders” to join our celebratory meals on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve Dinner. What a great tradition to have to reach out to strangers so often and so warmly on many Shabbat Fridays.

After chatting and listening to the man of the house’s Pandora selections, we sat down for the meal. Candles and a braided loaf of bread were brought out. Our friend, the lady of the house, lit some candles and recited a blessing. All the men were given yamaka’s and I admit a bit of childish envy not getting to wear something special too! Then our friend’s boyfriend, the man of the house, gave another blessing, which I now know is Kiddush, a blessing on the wine. He also gave a blessing over the callah, the braided bread. As we proceeded to eat our hosts proceeded to educate us on some of these traditions. Our friend’s boyfriend said the bread took the place of sacrificial meats and they salted the bread just as their ancestors would have salted the holy meat. I’ve never dipped my bread in a pile of salt before, but enjoyed the simple combination and have since hungered after the same loaf and salt to go with it.

We were also told that the Sabbath day begins at sundown and does not end till the sundown of the next day. They made sure that all the lights were kept on before the sun set and the refrigerators light was turned off. These and many other actions were manifestations of not working. Not working and refraining from normal weekday activities is a familiar tradition in many Christian households, my family would try to do the same, but we were rarely 100% successful. Even our friend admitted that some follow these rules strictly while others pick and choose what traditions to observe. She shared a quick story of a Hasidic Jewish man who chased her down the street to give here the right kind of candles for her Shabbat celebration (or maybe she was just really beautiful)!

All and all, it was a warm occasion shared with friends who love to exchange the traditions they have inherited. Even our host participated in our “non-wine drinking ways” by being the only one there to share in our peach sprizter!

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