Shmirat Shabbat: A Day of Rest

I needed some encouragement in anticipation of my first technology-free day, and so I turned to people who do without technology on a weekly basis, and have been doing it for thousands of years already. Jews have traditionally reserved the time from sundown on Fridays to sundown on Saturdays as a period of rest. No work, no driving, no chores, and especially no internet. Just eating and hanging out with friends and family. A real break from the work week. It's called Shmirat Shabbat. Abraham Joshua Heschel, theologian and author of “The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man” calls the Sabbath a “palace in time”: “The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we ... turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation.”

Leaving behind the *stuff* that our lives become cluttered with (the results of creation) and using the time to examine what we believe (the mystery of creation) sounds noble and philosophical. But what does this mean in concrete terms? Heschel again: “To set apart one day a week for freedom, a day on which we would not use the instruments which have been so easily turned into weapons of destruction, a day for being with ourselves, a day of detachment from the vulgar, of independence of external obligations, a day on which we stop worshipping the idols of technical civilization ... is there any institution that holds out a greater hope for man's progress than the Sabbath?”

So “weapons of destruction” sounds a bit extreme, but “worshipping the idols of technical civilization” is right on target if you have ever observed a new iPhone owner at close range. And can you believe he wrote that in 1951, before the iPhone was even a twinkle in Steve Jobs' eye? At any rate, I wanted to find out how “Shomer Shabbat” is actually observed, if at all, in the modern world, and what kind of effect it has on the lives of the observers. Is it an antiquated ritual whose myriad restrictions modern Jews find oppressive? Or is it an indispensable way for people to re-connect with their families, friends, and even their own souls on a weekly basis?

For Ronit Frank, a stay-at-home mother of a happy 5-month-old baby girl, it is both. Frank grew up in Israel, where she had “the best childhood ever,” partially because the whole community where she lived kept Shabbat. “I have a deep memory of it being something fantastic as a kid, but as I grew older it was more like 'been there, done that'.” Frank recalls Shabbat during her childhood as “magical. It was our time to stop everything and relax and enjoy family and sit around and talk.” But along with adulthood came a different perspective. “As I grew older,” says Frank, “I didn't accept the explanation of why we don't do certain things. ... I wanted to go to the beach and I needed a car. It was kind of depressing not being able to go anywhere and do all this stuff.” She lives in a suburb of the San Francisco Bay Area now, where life without a car is, for many, unthinkable.

America's love affair with the automobile is well documented, and many Americans depend on their cars to get everywhere. Is there a benefit beyond environmental reasons for staying out of your car for a day? Like, Ronit Frank, Jen Friedman lives in the suburbs of the San Francisco Bay Area. She observes Shabbat regularly, and she is also tempted by the freedom of the automobile: “Some days it would be much more fun to get in the car.” But for her, the trade-off is worth it. She has observed Shabbat her whole life, with no plans to change: “It lets you rest and lets your soul rest. It's just you and your family and god. There's not technology or work to get in the way.” Emily Shapiro Katz, a San Francisco mother of two who observes Shabbat, thinks not driving is the whole point: “The not driving on Shabbat thing is brilliant. That is what defines close-knit Jewish communities because you have to live near each other. That was the great downfall in the 50s of suburban sprawl that destroyed communal intimacy. Shabbat-observant communities still have that because you have to live close to each other.”

Building intimacy within families and communities is perhaps the biggest reason I want people to take a break from technology. In stark contrast to how most people view technology – as a time saver and communication enabler – I believe that technology often actually gets in the way of communication. It's a distraction, another layer between two people. Jen Friedman looks forward to Shabbat because there is nothing to get in the way of thinking and communicating: “Without distractions, your mind can actually work. You have time to read, to think, to talk.” Ronit Frank also remembers Shabbat as a time when people enjoyed being together and having real conversations: “Nobody was watching TV, people actually talked to each other, and got into depth of the subject. We were actually meeting up with each other, we had no other option. I remember having fun, really enjoying my parents because they were not working, they were not busy. My mom was not ironing or cleaning, she was just there. It was pure joy.”

This connection between parent and child is an explanation that I heard over and over again for why people still observe Shabbat in modern society. Elana Bernstein Storch is a Practice Administrator for a cardiology practice in Phoenix, Arizona and a busy mother of four who sees Shabbat as “a gift”. Like Friedman, she has been observing Shabbat her entire life: “I have a tremendous quality of life. No to do list. No errands. It's very important to take time out from your week for reflection and have the time with your children. ... Some friends don't observe the Sabbath, they go to the movies or whatever. I really feel like they are missing out.” Ronit Frank's sister felt like she was missing out on the family closeness of her childhood by not keeping Shabbat. Frank told me how her sister has decided to give Shabbat another try: “Now she is married and she is going back. She feels that it brings the family more together and keeps it whole. She says: 'If I did not keep Shabbat, I would not be able to talk to my son or do anything with him.'” For these women, giving up driving or watching TV is a small price to pay for a closer relationship with their children. Jen Friedman sums it up: “If I didn't give this to my kids, it wouldn't feel right.”

Hearing all of these stories about the peace and intimacy people get out of a day to rest and re-connect with their families was just the encouragement I needed to plan my first Kosina Family Tech-Free Day. In fact, I started feeling a bit wimpy just eliminating laptops for the day. I'm not ready to take the plunge and eliminate all electricity yet, but I can definitely live without computers, cell phones, clocks, and cars for a day. For practical reasons, I've chosen a Sunday for our own personal Sabbath, and decided to adopt the Jewish tradition of starting at sundown on Saturday, February 27th and ending when we see three stars in the sky on the evening of Sunday, February 28th. Maybe we'll even watch the sunset, something I've been wanting to do as a family for years now, but somehow haven't found the time for yet.

Want to read more about observing a Sabbath?

Here are some links to get you started:

The Sabbath Manifesto, a "creative project designed to slow down lives in an increasingly hectic world" offers tips for how to observe your own Sabbath and testimonials from happy Sabbath observers.

Sabbath Keepers offers multimedia profiles of three different people who keep the Sabbath in modern society.

And lastly, evidence that I am not alone in my quest for people to put down their electronic devices and talk to each other. Here is an article about a cafe in Oakland that asked patrons to turn off their laptops for a day and actually talk to each other at communal tables.