The fridge is dead!

A guest post

For today’s blog post, I have invited a friend and student to share her experiences of a Shabbat – spent with me!! I think you’ll find what she has to say interesting, written from a perspective different from where I stand when I write these posts. Thank you, Diana!

By Diana Fisher

When I first ordered my copy of Everyday Holiness on Audible back on October 19, 2018, I knew very little about Judaism or how to live “Jewishly.” All I knew is that I was a Jew, and I knew this because my family and I had immigrated to the United States in the 1970’s as Jewish refugees from the former Soviet Union. And although I was raised without either the cup of a Jewish religious container or the wine of a Jewish spirituality (as described in last week’s post), I knew I was somehow part of a Jewish “us.” I knew I was part of an “us” because there was an antisemitic “them” in the world. So, instead of rooting my Jewish identity in all the beautiful values and traditions of my lineage, I learned to define my Jewishness primarily by who I was not. This left me very spiritually lonely, almost completely unaware of Torah, rituals, mitzvot, prayer, and all the rich teachings of Judaism. Luckily, not all was lost because I was somehow still exposed to the joys of pickled herring (we pickled everything), the delights of dancing to Yiddish music, and the core Jewish expectation that we should succeed and learn for our entire lives. This was a good thing and eventually led me here to this blog.

Although it was always hard for me to feel comfortable in synagogues or “at home” in formal Jewish settings, I often longed to be part of a Jewish community. And though I wasn’t even sure I believed in God, after years of “spiritual orphanhood” I began exploring Jewish writings. One day, I came across an online article that described the meaning of “tikkun middot” and a spiritual practice called Mussar. After reading about it a bit more extensively, I learned that “repair of the self” and calibrating and refining the measures of character is a process that should be undertaken before (or at the very least, alongside) our pursuit of “tikkun olam” or repair of the world. Even with my minimal knowledge of Judaism, this made sense because there were plenty of social justice advocates (including myself) who were angry, cynical, unkind, impatient, and self-absorbed. That’s when I started reading a few books by this author named Alan Morinis. Little did I know that Mussar would soon become my gateway into the Jewish tradition.

Almost eight years have passed since my first exposure to that article and Mussar, which has helped me stop thinking of myself as a spiritual orphan. I now spend quite a bit of time learning in va’adim, studying Torah and midrash, taking various courses at The Mussar Institute and other Jewish organizations, working closely with treasured chevruta partners, and learning how to more fully participate in rituals such as Counting the Omer, Elul, Passover, Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot. In so many ways, studying Mussar has slowly connected me to my rich Jewish heritage. In fact, just this last week I was preparing to have my very first formal Shabbat, ever! It would include Challah, wine, candles, kosher food, and blessings. And guess who was coming to dinner to help me do it? Well, the One Above certainly works in mysterious ways because Alan Morinis was promoting his new book in Los Angeles and he would soon be sitting at my table—no kidding!

Although I was nervous, I had just finished reading The Shabbat Effect and felt excited to put into practice what was suggested in the book. I was intrigued to see if, as Alan had suggested, observing Shabbat could really transform the rest of my week and slowly help shape my character in significant ways. But as the time for his visit approached, I panicked that I wasn’t prepared to do this. Did I have contraband foods in my house? Proper utensils? Candles that fit the candlesticks that were gifted to me by a dear chaver from Canada? Why didn’t I make some flash cards with the blessings?! Ugh. My Jewish imposter syndrome was acting up, but as time ticked closer to Alan’s arrival, I summoned the courage that I could do this. Besides, Alan wasn’t judgmental, knew I didn’t have a kosher kitchen, and said he would be bringing all the food. What could go wrong? No problemo!

Once Alan arrived, I suggested we should walk to the liquor store to buy kosher wine and then go to Target to get paper plates. Great plan, except Alan reminded me that we should stay mindful of sunset and work backwards to make sure that the potatoes and yams would have enough time to bake and dinner could be properly warmed up before the start of Shabbat. He also asked if I’d be willing to tape the little button in the fridge that controls the light so he could use the refrigerator that evening. Oh, wow, I hadn’t thought of that, but of course. No wonder chapter one was about awareness…now I was starting to catch on. I might be new to all this, I told Alan, but for sure we would get back on time to put everything together. As we walked back to my home, he asked me where the stairs are since I lived on the 4^th floor. “Oh, we have an elevator, don’t worry,” I said. “Ah, but I can’t use the elevator once Shabbat starts,” Alan calmly said. “Ohhhh, of course,” I uttered while secretly hoping that I had the right key that would open the stairwell. As we continued to discuss the various considerations of observing a mindful Shabbat practice, I received a panicked text message from my teenage daughter Sasha. It said: “Our fridge is dead! There’s no light coming on.” I had to laugh.

With an hour left before sunset, Alan pointed out that electric window coverings should also be lowered or raised to the desired place since those aren’t meant to be controlled on Shabbat. Why didn’t I anticipate that? He also needed to print out a few things that he needed before Shabbat, which included the walking directions to a local shul in the morning. What, no google maps on Shabbat? Yikes, I hadn’t thought of that either. There were so many little details to take notice of. I gulped, finally starting to understand why “awareness” is a perfect place to begin (and keep returning to) for those of us who live mostly on autopilot. I knew I was capable of being in “shining mind” as opposed to “dull mind,” but how often and for how long?

Just as I paused to consider this important question, I remembered that I should check on the potatoes that were baking in the oven. With Alan standing at the kitchen counter, I enthusiastically picked up my knife and jabbed a potato covered by aluminum foil. “Hmm,” I said, “I can’t tell if they’re done.” Alan simply smiled as I reached into the oven and grabbed another potato out of the oven. I was getting ready to jab the second potato when Alan looked at me and said, “The knife, Diana.” Oops, I had been using a non-kosher knife instead of a plastic one to poke the potato. After seeing the sheepish look on my face, Alan graciously said: “It’s quite okay as long as you don’t stab them all so I can have one too!” How embarrassing, I had just failed the potato test in front of Alan Morinis… but I was determined to keep things going as sunset was fast approaching. I had to move quickly. The butter! I forget to take out the butter, which Alan had asked for a few minutes ago. Without paying attention to what I was doing, I instinctively grabbed the tub of butter out of the refrigerator and came only a few inches away from inserting the same non-kosher knife for spreading before I heard Alan’s voice gently remind me: “Uhm, the knife again, Diana.” I’m sure I turned four shades of red at that moment. What was I thinking?? Or was I not doing much thinking at all….

Only later that night, after the candles stopped burning and the delicious babka was eaten, did I go back to Chapter 1, page 18 of The Shabbat Effect to read:

“Only when consciousness is brightly illuminated will we be in a position to be vigilant about our actions rather than governed by our habits or unconscious forces.”

Thank you for this teaching, Alan. How very true, and how much more work did I recognize was on my spiritual curriculum on my very first ritual observance of Shabbat. While it’s now back to basics for me, at least I remembered to cut our evening’s orange with a plastic knife and was able to reassure my daughter that our fridge was not dead but simply resting for Shabbat…and that we should slowly learn to do the same.

What’s on your Shabbat spiritual curriculum?