Keeping Shabbat: Lessons from an evening of ritual observance

My San Antonio

As sunset approached Friday, we watched men dressed in black and wearing yarmulkes, symbols of humility, coming from all directions along Blanco Road in north San Antonio, a neighborhood that is home to many of the city’s Orthodox Jews.

Women walked alongside the men as the workweek ended and the seventh day, the day that for 3,000 years has been the Jewish day of rest, approached.

The area also is home to Chabad Lubavitch of South Texas, a place of faith and learning where Rabbi Chaim Block serves as executive director. Block was a member of the Express-News’ 2002 advisory board, and since then has remained a friend and one of many links connecting our newsroom and the city’s Jewish community.

Monika, my wife, and I were among three couples who arrived in vehicles at the gracious Block home, which the rabbi shares with his wife, Rivkie, and their eight daughters and one son. It becomes a home to many more each Friday night as the Blocks prepare to keep Shabbat with an extended meal that must take all day to prepare.

At least seven couples, including Joe Lieberman, a Holocaust survivor, gathered around the Block table promptly at 9 p.m., and there we remained until midnight. Most stayed past midnight, some for the entire night.

It was a meal rich in ritual that started with a chanted blessing in Hebrew and the washing of hands. Silence was observed until all were seated and the rabbi ceremonially sliced a loaf of freshly baked bread. Small pieces were shared and dipped in salt, a remembrance of sacrifice.

Afterward, Block drank from a silver cup brimming with wine, and then filled symbolic thimbles of wine that were passed around and drunk to toasts of l’chayim, “to life.” Endless plates of delicious food were passed from right to left. Once, between courses, the group broke out in Hebrew song, a few children lingering near parents joining in.

There were hours of engaging conversation that occasionally grew into debate on subjects ranging from faith to history to leadership.

Block held forth on the story of Moses, a simple man with a speech impediment who somehow rose to lead the Hebrews out of Egypt. “The paradigm for leadership today can be found right in the first five books, the Torah.”

It was only inevitable, at least at our end of the long table where I was privileged to sit at the right hand of the rabbi, that the conversation turned to the subject of that day’s closing of yet another special session of the Texas Legislature. Once more, the state’s leadership and lawmakers had failed to find a better way to fund public schools and equitably collect taxes.

Moses, Block said, was not a natural leader. He was a man who doubted himself and was doubted by his fellow Hebrews, his faith constantly challenged by the misery and suffering around him. He managed through faith to accomplish what many thought could not be done: leading the enslaved Hebrews out of captivity.

The question was asked: Why is there no such inspired leadership today? It would be hard to compare the people of Texas with the plight of Hebrews in servitude, but in some ways the stakes seem just as high.

As I relished the night of Shabbat, I thought back to other “field trips” I’ve enjoyed as editor, including many visits to classrooms throughout San Antonio and South Texas, from early learning centers to university graduate seminars, from the so-called wealthy districts to the city’s poorest. Each visit has deepened my appreciation of teachers, school leaders and the extraordinary challenges they face.

A Junior Achievement program placed me years ago in an at-risk class at Truman Middle School in the Edgewood District, which grew into a semester-long opportunity to spend a half-day each week there teaching troubled sixth- and seventh-graders. In that time, one of the boys was arrested for threatening to kill a teacher. A young girl, perhaps 14, lingered after class one day to reveal that she was pregnant, news she had not shared with anyone else.

Someone should invite Rep. Tom Craddick, the Republican speaker of the House, to spend a few such days experiencing what teachers struggle to accomplish in such circumstances. He might not be so quick to lash out at superintendents or to blame a lack of reforms for our troubled public schools.

The Book of Exodus, Rabbi Block might counsel, serves as a reminder that what we really suffer is a failure of leadership in Austin, where the real reform is needed.

Shalom.