In a world in which the only constant is change, the paper of note found it obvious that no matter what will be in a century from now, the Shabbos lecht will remain an eternal beacon of warmth and light in the Yiddish’e home.
When Shabbos arrives, the secret of song is revealed and together, we rejoice in the harmony of the Master Conductor.
The Torah tells us, ‘You must not light a fire… on the day of Shabbos.’ One should not light a fire – even a spiritual flame – on Shabbos. He must imbue his weekly activities with warmth and sanctity as well, so that when Shabbos does finally arrive, he is not just beginning to create the fire.
These are two of the most well-known pesukim in the Torah. They are recited Friday nights before Shmoneh Esrei and they are also the opening verses of the Shabbos morning Kiddush. Over the centuries, beautiful niggunim aplenty have been composed to express the grandeur of these verses. But before we introduce our chosen tune for today’s post, let’s approach its lyrics with yet even more perspective.
This Aramaic introduction to kriyas haTorah – sung in an ancient, emotional tune – has uplifted Jews through hundreds of years of persecution and exile, reminding us of our glorious status as the Am HaNivchar, and of the eternal nature of the Torah and the Jewish people.
The truth is, this poignant poem is more than words, more than prayer, more than music – but rather a delicate, enduring fabric woven from them all.
This Shabbos coincides with Rosh Chodesh, and we will recite Hallel to praise and thank Hashem – for the past, present and the future – for redeeming us and sustaining us with His abundant kindness. Kapital 118, for example, speaks prophetically of the Redemption, and describes the praise and thanks that will be sung then by the ingathered exiles. It describes our trust in Hashem, and our firm belief in His salvation regardless of the situation.
Why do we bid such a fast farewell to these friendly malachim. After all, they just arrived, not to mention have just finished bestowing blessings onto our homes! I mean, if the malachim want to stay, would we really have a problem with that? Wouldn’t we prefer that they stick around, or at least stay as long as they’d like? Why, after just welcoming in, would we proceed to show them the proverbial door?
The Midrash Tanchuma (Chayei Sarah 4:1) writes that the hesped that Avraham Avinu said on that day was the very song that we sing every Friday night. Within the mystical phrases that comprise Eishes Chayil (Mishlei 31:10-31), Sarah Imeinu is eulogized by her husband and idealized by Chazal as the model Jewish woman.
In a world where change has become a constant phenomenon, and opinions become obsolete almost more quickly than they come into style, Magen Avos is a perfect example of the fact that Chazal’s wisdom is timeless and eternal, relevant in all times and places, giving the Jewish people a stability that every individual, and all the other nations so desperately crave.
“Castles in the Air” was a smashing success, but the long-lasting achievement of that year’s event was definitely the creation of this musical masterpiece. ‘Even if we’ve heard the song ten thousand times before,’ it never fails to decorate our imaginations with the many miracles and marvels of Hashem and of the world that He created.