Shabbat
Sacred time, without supernaturalism.
Every Friday at sundown, wherever in the world this community gathers — London, New York, Chicago, Jerusalem, Perth, Sydney — an ordinary week stops. Two candles are lit, and a day begins that is different from the other six. Nothing supernatural needs to happen for that difference to be real. We do not believe a deity descends to sanctify the evening. We believe holiness is something a people makes, not something it receives — and that a stretch of time, set apart on purpose and kept in company, is holy because we have agreed, together, to treat it that way.
The philosopher Mordecai Kaplan called such things a people’s sancta — the days, objects and deeds through which it carries its highest values from one generation to the next. Abraham Joshua Heschel gave the same idea a different picture: Judaism, he wrote, builds its great cathedral not in space but in time. Shabbat is a palace in time — a structure raised not from stone but from hours, entered not by walking but by ceasing.
A palace in time cannot be conquered or burned.
It goes with you.
Tradition roots the seventh day in two stories, and it is worth noticing that they do not quite agree — which is a gift, because between them they hold the whole meaning. In Genesis, the reason for rest is creation: having made a world, its maker stops, and rest is woven into the order of things. In Deuteronomy, the reason is liberation: remember that you were slaves, and now you are free — so you shall not make slaves of anyone in your household, not even the ox. One story says rest belongs to the dignity of a finished world; the other says rest is the very shape of freedom. A spiritual humanist can hear both as profound human truths rather than as literal reports. We do not need a week of creation to feel the first: that a life made only of making, with no day to stand back and call it good, never gets to be enjoyed. And we do not need to have stood at the Red Sea to feel the second: that a person who can never stop is not yet fully free, whatever their circumstances.
We keep the day’s inherited choreography as a folkway, not a command — a living custom this people uses to keep itself a people, free to be understood anew in every generation. Two candles are lit before sunset, at the threshold between the week and the day apart. A cup is blessed — Kiddush — and the ordinary is named aloud as holy. Bread is broken at an unhurried table, with whoever is there. And when three stars appear on Saturday night, Havdalah marks the return: a last cup of wine, the fragrance of spices carried back into the week, a candle’s light caught on outstretched fingertips. The words we say over these things are drawn from Tefilotenu, this community’s own siddur, written so that no one needs to affirm a commanding God to mean every word.
Strip away the candles and the customs, and one claim remains underneath them all: that a person’s worth is not measured by what they produce. Six days a week the world tells us otherwise — that we are our output, our inbox, our usefulness. On the seventh, Shabbat says: stop, and be worth exactly as much when you make nothing at all.
Stop — and be worth exactly as much
when you make nothing at all.
That is not a day off. It is a small, weekly act of liberation — practised at a table, extended to everyone who sits at it, and, in time, felt less as a belief than as a change in how the whole week feels. Menuchah, rest, and oneg, delight: the tradition names both moods it hopes the day will carry. A Shabbat kept only as a list of things given up has missed the point. The ceasing exists to make room for the delight.
Kiddush
The blessing over the wine that opens the Shabbat table, from Tefilotenu, this community’s own siddur — in Hebrew, transliteration, and English.
ויהי ערב ויהי בקר: יום הששי: ותכל ביום השביעי המלאכה אשר נעשתה ותשבת ביום השביעי כל המלאכה אשר נעשתה נברך את יום השביעי ונקדש אותו כי בו שבתנו מכל־המלאכה אשר בחרנו לעשות:
סברי חברי! ברוך האור בחיים וברוך פרי הגפן: אמן.
ברוכים אתם אורינו והורינו מקימי עמנו אשר קדשונו במסורותיהם ורצו בנו, ושבת שלום באהבה וברצון נחלנו זכר ליציאת מצרים: כי הוא עת תחלה למקראי קדש, זכר לישועת עמנו.
כי שלום בחרנו ואותו קדשנוהו מכל הימים, ושבת קדשנו באהבה, וברצון נחלנוהו.
ברוכים אתם חברי מקדשי השבת! אמן.
Vayehí érev vayehí vóker. Yom Hashishí: Vatchál bayóm hashevi’í hamelachá ashér ne’está. Vatishbót bayóm hashevi’í kol hamelachá ashér ne’está. Nevaréch et yom hashevi’í unekadésh otó ki vo shavátnu mikól-hamelachá ashér baḥárnu la’asót. Savrí ḥaverái! Barúch ha’ór baḥayím uvarúch perí hagéfen. Amén. Beruchím atém orénu vehorénu mekaymé aménu, ashér kidshúnu bimsorotehém veratsú vánu, veshabbát shalóm be’ahavá uveratsón naḥálnu, zécher litsi’át mitsráyim. Ki hu et teḥilá lemikra’é kódesh, zécher lishu’át aménu. Ki shalóm baḥárnu ve’otó kidashnuhú mikól-hayamím. Veshabbát kidáshnu be’ahavá, uveratsón naḥalnuhú. Beruchím atém ḥaverái mekadshé hashabbát! Amén.
There was evening and there was morning, the sixth day. And on the seventh day we complete the labour we perform, and we refrain on the seventh day from all the labour which we perform. And we bless the seventh day and sanctify it, for we then refrain from all our labour which we have chosen to do.
Attention, friends! Blessed is the light in life, and blessed is the fruit of the vine. Amen.
Blessed are you, our teachers and our ancestors, who ensured the continuity of our people, who blessed us with their traditions and took pleasure in us; and a peaceful Shabbat, in love and favour, we have inherited, a remembrance of the exodus from the narrow places. For that day is the first among special occasions, a memorial of the deliverance of our people. For we have chosen peace and distinguished it above all other days, and so we have distinguished the Shabbat with love, and in favour we have inherited it. Blessed are you, my friends, who distinguish the Shabbat! Amen.
Havdalá הבדלה
On Saturday night, when three stars are in the sky, we bring Shabbat to a close. We light a braided candle, raise a cup of wine, smell spices or herbs, and put the flame out in the wine. It is our custom to eat afterwards — a full meal, or cake or fruit: Melave Malka follows. We light the candle, lift the cup and say:
כוס־ישועות אשא ובשם האחדות אקרא׃
תצליח דרכנו, יצליחו למודנו, יצליח מזלנו,
תצליח קהלתנו, תצלחנה משפחותינו,
ונמצא ברכה רוחה והצלחה בכל־מעשי ידינו׃
ליהודים היתה אורה ושמחה וששון ויקר׃
כן תהיה לנו׃
Kos-yeshu’ót esá uveshém ha’aḥdút ekrá. Tatslíaḥ derachénu, yatslíḥu limudénu, yatslíaḥ mazalénu, tatslíaḥ kehilaténu, tatslaḥná mishpeḥoténu, venimtsá berachá revaḥá vehatslaḥá bechól-ma’asé yadénu. Layehudím haytá orá vesimḥá vesasón vikár. Ken tihyé lánu.
I lift the cup of liberation and call out in the name of unity.
May our ways succeed, and our learning, and our fortune; may our community succeed, and our families; and may we find blessing, relief and success in all the work of our hands.
For the Jews there was light and joy, gladness and honour.
So may it be for us.
ברוך האור בחיים, ברוך האור בעולם,
וברוך פרי הגפן׃
Barúch ha’ór baḥayím, barúch ha’ór ba’olám, uvarúch perí hagéfen.
Blessed is the light in life, blessed is the light in the world, and blessed is the fruit of the vine.
We put the cup back down. Smelling the spices or herbs:
ברוך האור בחיים, ברוך האור בעולם,
וברוכים מיני הבשמים׃
Barúch ha’ór baḥayím, barúch ha’ór ba’olám, uveruchím miné habesamím.
Blessed is the light in life, blessed is the light in the world, and blessed are the many fragrances.
Looking at the light of the candle on our palms and fingernails:
ברוך האור בחיים, ברוך האור בעולם,
וברוכים מאורי האש׃
Barúch ha’ór baḥayím, barúch ha’ór ba’olám, uveruchím me’oré ha’ésh.
Blessed is the light in life, blessed is the light in the world, and blessed are the lights of the fire.
Lifting the cup again:
ברוכה הבדלה בין קדש לחול׃
Beruchá havdalá ben kódesh leḥól.
Blessed is the distinction between the sacred and the everyday.
Take a sip of the wine, and put the flame out in it.
שבוע טוב
Shavúa Tov!
Melavé Malká מלוה מלכה
Escorting the Queen out. Shabbat has ended, but we do not hurry from it. We set the table once more, not to keep Shabbat from leaving, but to carry something of it into the week.
Over bread:
אם־נוכל לאכל ולשתות יחדו,
נוכל לחיות ולאהב יחדו׃
לכן, נברך את המוציאים לחם מן הארץ׃
Im nuchál le’eḥól velishtót yaḥdáv, nuchál liḥyót vele’ehóv yaḥdáv. Lachén, nevaréch et hamotsi’ím léḥem min ha’árets.
If we can eat and drink together, we can live and love together. Let us bless those who bring forth bread from the earth.
Over cake, biscuits or anything else baked that is not bread:
ברוך האור בחיים וברוכים מיני מזונות׃
Barúch ha’ór baḥayím uveruchím miné mezonót.
Blessed is the light in life, and blessed are the foods that nourish us.
A mizmor follows, read or sung: מזמור: חזון מברך, from the Mizmorim of Tefilotenu.
We eat together. Before rising from the table:
יהא נא אורה, מנוחה וכונה
טובה עמנו בשבוע הבא׃
Yehé na orá, menuḥá vechavaná tová imánu bashavúa habá
May there be light, rest and good intention
with us in the coming week.
Starting a Shabbat Practice at Home
You don’t need to change everything at once. Shabbat can begin as small as two candles and a shared meal — and grow from there, at whatever pace fits your life.
Keep one Shabbat. Then let the day make its own argument.
A graduated path
Three depths, each a complete practice on its own. Start wherever feels honest, and let it deepen over time.
- The threshold (an hour). Light two candles, say a few words, share a meal with one other person. Do nothing else differently.
- The evening (a few hours). Add a real pause — phone away for a set number of hours, starting with three — and let the evening go unhurried.
- The day (Friday night to Saturday night). Extend the pause across the whole day, and close it deliberately at nightfall with Havdalah — even just a spice jar and a candle, and the words shavua tov, a good week.
Preparing for Shabbat
Shabbat is made during the week before it. Clear the ground, and the day will open.
- Earlier in the week: decide how deep you’re going this week, invite people if you want company, plan the food and the oneg — the pleasure of the day.
- On Friday, before sunset: cook and lay the table early, set out candles, wine, and bread, decide what you’re switching off and for how long, tidy the room you’ll sit in, take three breaths, and light the candles.
- For the close, Saturday night: set out wine, a spice jar, and a candle for Havdalah, mark the ending deliberately, and say shavua tov.
Making Shabbat yours
- Flexible boundaries with technology. Phone-free meals, timed check-ins instead of an all-or-nothing switch-off, or a “digital sunset” that starts the evening.
- Creative rituals at home. Candlelight, and a gratitude round — naming three things you’re grateful for and three hopes for the week ahead.
Shabbat looks different for everyone. If you live alone, if your household doesn’t share this, if giving up your phone entirely isn’t realistic, or if Saturday itself is never free — adapt honestly rather than aiming for a version that won’t last. A Shabbat-inspired pause on whatever day actually works for you is a real practice too, as long as you name it for what it is.
Shabbat shalom — from all of us at Spiritual Humanistic Judaism.
Shabbat times where you live
Candle-lighting and Havdalah times for this week, for seven cities around the world.