Shabbat is not just a respite from the world, it is a respite from ourselves.
Despite the fact I’ve been “off” from work for most of the last month, a bit of self-imposed paternity leave, the internal desire to be productive didn’t really go away.
This feeling is deeply rooted in how I’ve chosen to spend my time in the last number of years, mirrored in popular culture, and now that I work for myself, something a bit essential to my future.
And, at the same time, the constant pressure to be doing, going, grinding, and pushing is not all that healthy.
During Shabbat last week, I was singing the wonderful zemer (song) on Shabbat afternoon. It is called, Yom Shabbaton (The Day of Rest) by Yehudah HaLevi. The translation and references I’m going to use come from this fantastic source sheet on Sefaria. The zemer begins:
יוֹם שַׁבָּתוֹן אֵין לִשְׁכֹּחַ
זִכְרוֹ כְּרֵיחַ הַנִּיחוֹחַ
יוֹנָה מָצְאָה בוֹ מָנוֹחַ
וְשָׁם יָנוּחוּ יְגִיעֵי כֹחַYom Shabbaton ein lishkoach
Zichro k’reiach hanichoach
Yona matz’ah vo manoach
V’Sham yanuchu y’gee’eh choachThe day of rest should not be forgotten,
its memory like a fragrant odor
On it the dove found rest,
there shall rest exhausted ones.
The last two lines of this first verse serve as the chorus for the rest of the song. Repeatedly, we sing about a dove that comes to rest.
It seems, by the last line of the poem, we are supposed to be thinking about Noah’s dove.
כַּאֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּעְתָּ עַל מֵי נֹחַ
Ka’asher nishba’ta al mei noach
As [God] swore at the Waters of Noah.
But, it isn’t clear what the deeper meaning is.
In this great piece by Rabbi Yaakov Jaffe, about the history and alternative versions of the poem, we learn:
In the conventional version, the song serves as a historical description of the Shabbat and the giving of the Torah (ending with a hopeful plea for a better Shabbat in the future). Yet, replacing the conventional middle paragraphs serves to radically shift the focus and core of the song.
Instead of being a simple song about the Shabbat, the poem now becomes a deeper song about the experiences of Diaspora Jewry and the role Shabbat plays as a vital respite for the nation in difficult times, the only resting time from the pain and agony that surround them.
…
However, a reader used to the unusual text of the middle stanzas, which focuses the song on the present-day struggles of Diaspora Jewry, would be drawn towards a different understanding of the “dove” in the refrain. In this reading, the dove refers not to the historical dove, but to the present-day Jewish people, who are often symbolized by the dove (three times in Shir Ha-Shirim and once in Yeshayahu).
Thus, the refrain’s true argument is not that the seven days of the the flood parallel the seven days of Shabbat; it is that the Shabbat day is a time that the Jewish people, the dove, find rest. The song speaks less about the historical Shabbat, and more about the experiences of weary, Diaspora, dove-like Jewry, wandering from place to place, facing cruelty and oppression, desperately waiting for the next Shabbat.
Rabbi Jaffe goes on to argue that the second reading, about diaspora Jewry, is more likely to be the intent of the author and I thoroughly encourage you to go read it.
Am I the dove, and what is my relationship to Shabbat?
The dove doesn’t just fly away when sent by Noah to check for dry land. It comes back repeatedly. Genesis 8:9 reads:
וְלֹֽא־מָצְאָה֩ הַיּוֹנָ֨ה מָנ֜וֹחַ לְכַף־רַגְלָ֗הּ וַתָּ֤שׇׁב אֵלָיו֙ אֶל־הַתֵּבָ֔ה כִּי־מַ֖יִם עַל־פְּנֵ֣י כׇל־הָאָ֑רֶץ וַיִּשְׁלַ֤ח יָדוֹ֙ וַיִּקָּחֶ֔הָ וַיָּבֵ֥א אֹתָ֛הּ אֵלָ֖יו אֶל־הַתֵּבָֽה׃
But the dove could not find a resting place for its foot, and returned to him to the ark, for there was water over all the earth. So putting out his hand, he took it into the ark with him.
(A discerning eye might notice that the first phrase is *almost* the same as the line from the poem.)
Noah waits another week and sends out the dove. The second time, the dove returns with the olive branch signifying that land appears somewhere. A week later, again, now for the third time, Noah sends out the dove who does not return.
We are the dove who keeps coming back because there is no place for it to rest.
How often have we created scenarios for ourselves when we cannot rest?
How often have we filled up our lives too much like a flood?
How often have we overwhelmed ourselves by taking on too much?
For me, too often.
It is essential to us, as individuals, as communities, and as a people (diaspora or otherwise) to take the time to rest. To take spiritually intentional time to recover, to refocus, to recharge.
Not so we can be productive again at the end, but rather because it is a necessary part of being healthy, physically, spiritually, mentally, and communally.
On it [Shabbat] the dove found rest,
there shall rest exhausted ones.
We’re all exhausted (and not just from having a new baby), and it is time for all of us to take some rest.