Sabbath (or) Holy Gloaming, part XXIV
Richard M. Wright
barukh attah adonay eloheynu melekh ha`olam asher qiddshanu bmitzvotav vtzivvanu ner shel Shabbat
Blessed are you O Lord our God king of the universe who makes us holy by his commandments and commands us to kindle the Sabbath lights (my translation)
- Sha`arei Tephillah. Gates of Prayer: The New Union Prayerbook (Central Conference of American Rabbis, 1975: 117)
There is something about candles – or more precisely candlelight.
The last Saturday before Christmas I was finally able to visit St Matthew the Apostle Orthodox Church here in Baton Rouge for Saturday Vespers. (I like to visit and worship/pray with other faith communities when I can. I have exchanged a few emails with the lay pastor and was looking forward to meeting him.) It is a storefront church – they rent space in a small building along with a few businesses and stores. How does one turn rented office space into holy space? Icons – lots of them – adorned the walls. Beautiful rugs on the otherwise tile floor. Chairs – somewhat surprising in an Orthodox Christian place of worship. And candles. Not one electric light was on.
I wonder if that alone or simply most of all helped to create an atmosphere of serene peacefulness. One could hardly imagine shouting or arguing or fussing or gossiping or even speaking loudly. One could only engage in warm and quiet conversation with the person behind me. Or sit and pray in silence. Or listen to the story of salvation sung by the pastor and his wife. And one could only – even at the conclusion of the prayer service – drive away still effused with the gloaming light of Sabbath peace.
There is something about candles.
I remember with my new wife visiting my major professor and his family down in Binghamton for Shabbat dinner. The table well set. Everyone dressed in nice clothes. And the mother of the home lighting the Sabbath candles. Quietly saying the prayer. And gesturing over the flames to signify the holy light of God coming closer. Barukh attah adonay eloheynu… asher tzivvanu ner shel Shabbat.
And as an undergraduate visiting my good friend Leah at Young Israel House where Orthodox Jewish students observed strictly the rule of not turning on or off any electric device. In many rooms only candlelight. For prayer. For conversation. For resting.
What would happen if – say Saturday night – we light candles to welcome Sabbath? (Tilden Edwards in Sabbath Time suggests using three to represent the Trinity.) Perhaps use nothing but candlelight until we went to bed? Our family experienced a weak form of this when – for reasons I will not explain – after Christmas we went for a week with almost no television, computer, or electronics. It was strangely refreshing. Although I understand that one would need to find room for candles in the weekly household budget – shall we try it?
One of my favorite prayers from Christian history is the Phos Hilaron.
O gracious Light,
pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven,
O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed!
Now as we come to the setting of the sun,
and our eyes behold the vesper light,
we sing your praises, O God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
You are worthy at all times to be praised by happy voices,
O Son of God, O Give of life,
and to be glorified through all the worlds.
