By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
Finally, after generations of enslavement in Mitzrayim and a dramatic redemption, Klal Yisroel reaches the apex of creation, standing at Har Sinai and receiving the Torah from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. They hear the Aseres Hadibros and are awed and inspired to live lives of holiness, following the will of the Creator.
One of the mitzvos included in the Aseres Hadibros is Shabbos. We study the posuk of “Zachor es yom haShabbos lekadsho” (20:8), which literally translates as “Remember the Shabbos day to make it holy.”
The pesukim then state that we are to work six days of the week and rest on the seventh, not doing any work on that day because Hashem created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. Therefore, He blessed the Shabbos day and sanctified it.
The Ramban explains the posuk of “Zachor es yom haShabbos lekadsho” to mean that it is a mitzvah to remember to sanctify Shabbos and keep it holy. He cites the posuk which states, “Vekarasa laShabbos oneg likdosh Hashem” (Yeshayahu 58:13), and writes that when we rest on Shabbos, we do so because it is a holy day. We therefore take a break from even thinking about mundane matters. Instead, we seek to satiate our souls in the way of Hashem and study Torah.
In Parshas Beshalach (16:28-29), the Torah discusses Shabbos in reference to the monn. A double portion fell on Friday because none fell on Shabbos. The posuk states, “Reu ki Hashem nosan lochem es haShabbos – See that Hashem has given you the Shabbos.”
The Seforno explains that the posuk is saying that we should think about the concept that Hashem has given us Shabbos, which has two components that set it apart from the rest of the week: firstly, through its mitzvos, and secondly, because it is a gift that Hashem gave to the Bnei Yisroel.
This is probably based on the Gemara in Shabbos (10b), which states that Hashem told Moshe that He has a good gift among His treasures by the name of Shabbos and He wishes to present it to Klal Yisroel.
What is the gift? Is it the entirety of Shabbos or is it a component of Shabbos?
In the sefer from Rav Meir Soloveitchik al haTorah, in Parshas Beshalach, it is brought from the Brisker Rov that he deduced from a Rashi in Bereishis (2:2) that the rest component of Shabbos – menucha – is not just a lack of work, but a special creation that Hashem presented to us. He says that Shabbos has two components. The first is its mitzvos and the second is the menucha.
The Brisker Rov concluded that the menucha of Shabbos was especially created for the Jewish people and is the gift that Hashem gave us.
What is the gift of menucha?
Rav Shimshon Pincus (Shabbos Malkesa 3:4, 2) explains that when a person engages in intense physical labor, he naturally becomes tired and requires rest. This is rooted in the laws of nature, as it reflects a deep spiritual truth: that the source of all life is spiritual. The physical realm, by contrast, is not only distinct from the spiritual, but also serves as a barrier, distancing a person from his spiritual essence and, in turn, from his true source of vitality.
When someone immerses themselves entirely in physical labor, he becomes disconnected from this spiritual energy, leading to exhaustion. However, when he ceases his physical exertion and rest, his physical side no longer obstructs his spiritual side. This allows him to reconnect with his true source of life, replenishing his energy and restoring his vitality.
This is compounded when we sleep and our neshamos ascend on high to their Creator, becoming reconnected to their life source. They return to us fully charged and we wake up energized to take on the day.
The gift that Hashem gave us with Shabbos is that on this day we totally separate from gashmiyus – physical labor, activities, and thoughts – and return to ruchniyus, that which is spiritual. The holiness of Shabbos envelops us. Once we are unburdened from the physical aspects of life that we have been enveloped by for the past six days, we enter the realm of the kedusha and menucha of Shabbos, as we proclaim, “Yom menucha ukedusha l’amcha nosata.”
Shabbos disconnects us from gashmiyus, enveloping us in the source of energy and life. This is the ultimate gift of menucha that Hashem presented to us.
In order to merit this gift, however, we have to do our part and not only refrain from doing the physical labor of the 39 melachos, but, on Shabbos, elevate ourselves from the mundane through our actions and also through our thoughts. We refrain from discussing, reading about, or thinking about work and the everyday concerns that occupy our minds during the week. Shabbos is a time to step away from the ordinary and reconnect with a higher, spiritual realm. The more we do so, the better off we are and the more energetic we will be.
Menuchas Shabbos is not about lounging around, engaging in shallow conversations, or indulging in gossip without regard for the truth or the harm it may cause. It is not about speaking ill of others, mocking them, or simply passing the time with meaningless chatter.
Those who seek to experience the gift of menuchas Shabbos do so by elevating their ruchniyus through learning, refining their behavior, thoughts, speech, and what they read and focus on.
Shabbos is not solely about refraining from the 39 melachos. It’s about rising above our physical, material side as much as possible. It’s an opportunity to connect more deeply to our spiritual essence.
Shabbos is a precious gift from Hashem. The more we recognize and appreciate this gift, the closer we draw to Him and the better off we are. Viewing Shabbos as a burden only robs us of the deep opportunities it offers. It keeps us stuck in the triviality of the physical world, sapping our energy and preventing us from experiencing the true depth and perception this holy day can provide.
The holiness of Shabbos is so profound that, according to the Vilna Gaon, when we eat and drink on Shabbos to fulfill the commandment of oneg, experiencing the joy of eating and drinking on Shabbos, it is as sacred as if we were partaking in a korban. The reason for this, he explains, is that by engaging in these physical acts, we bridge the gap between the physical and spiritual realms, connecting the material (gashmi) and the spiritual (ruchni).
Rav Dovid Cohen elaborates on this by explaining that the essence of kedushas Shabbos lies in elevating the physical world and connecting it to the neshomah. Eating and enjoying food, though a physical act, becomes a spiritual one when done with the intention of fulfilling the mitzvah. As a result, this act is considered so holy that it is as if the person was consuming the meat of a korban.
Imagine that, although we are in golus, without the Bais Hamikdosh and without korbanos, every Shabbos we have the opportunity to eat in a way that is equal to eating korbanos. We don’t have to travel anywhere or do anything special. All we need to do is sit at our Shabbos table, immersed in the sanctity of the day, enjoying the delicacies our mothers and wives prepared for us and the family. Most likely, the recipes they used were handed down to them from their mothers, who received them from their mothers for hundreds of years, each one of whom cooked for a family of mekadshei Shabbos who had the pleasure equivalent to eating korbanos that were shechted in the Bais Hamikdosh.
No matter where they lived and how hard they worked all week, they all enjoyed the transformative powers of Shabbos, the yom menucha ukedusha.
Davening in the Zichron Moshe Shul in the heart of Yerushalayim’s Geulah neighborhood is a special pleasure. The shul and its shtieblach welcome Jews of all stripes who combine to form the beautiful mosaic that is Geulah in particular and Yerushalayim in general. Sitting side by side are the greatest talmidei chachomim, tzaddikim, mekubolim, tradesmen, shleppers, and every other type of Torah Jew you can imagine. It’s a special feeling to share a bench with them and call out to Hashem in the Holy City in the Holy Land.
I was there one Friday morning and saw a man sleeping on a bench. His clothing was dirty. His sleep was repeatedly interrupted as he scratched himself in pain from not having showered in many days. It was a pitiful sight, though not unusual in that hallowed shul.
On Friday evening, I was going to a different neighborhood for the meal and would be davening there as well. However, I went out of my way to pass Zichron Moshe and take in its sights and sounds.
As I passed the shul, I stopped by the window of the large bais medrash, known as “The Big.” I looked towards the mizrach, and there, next to the rov, was the man who, that morning, had been sleeping in squalor on a bench in that very room. From the window, I saw him as he sat on the mizrach wall, facing the mispallelim. He was bedecked in a Yerushalayimer gold bekeshe and shtreimel. He was shining as he sat there with a broad smile on his face. He looked like a malach.
Shabbos transformed him. He was a new person.
It was Shabbos, and he was a new being, almost unrecognizable from what he was a few hours before.
I stood there soaking in the image and thinking that this is how the geulah will be. We are overcome with shmutz, dirt, pain, and sadness. We are in golus, exiled among the nations and those who have strayed. We are far from home. But we do not despair. We know that the day of our redemption is around the corner. We will be cleansed, freshened, and made anew. Joy will return. And in the very place where we experienced pain, humiliation, and suffering, we will find comfort.
Meforshim wonder about the connection between the geulah and the heightened moments when Shabbos enters every week, which are combined in the universally recited Lecha Dodi.
We raise our voices and sing, welcoming the kallah, yet the words we chant aren’t as much about Shabbos as about Yerushalayim.
We shift from Likras Shabbos to Mikdash Melech, focusing on the Palace of the King. We hope for Hisna’ari and call out for Hisoreri, breaking into dance as we envision the time of Yosis Olayich Elokoyich.
The commentators ask why we chant these poetic expressions about the redemption and Yerushalayim at the time that Shabbos descends upon the world. Why do we mix the two?
In Zichron Moshe, as I stood transfixed at that window, I saw the transformational power of Shabbos and I discovered the answer to this question.
Every Shabbos, we are each able to rise from the dust of the workweek, from the darkness of golus – mei’afar kumi.
When Moshiach comes, we will do so as a people, together, just as we sing in Lecha Dodi: “Hisna’ari mei’afar kumi livshi bigdei sifarteich ami al yad ben Yishai bais halachmi korvah el nafshi ge’olah.”
May we all merit, each week, the transformation that Shabbos offers, and the ultimate transformation that Moshiach will bring when he redeems us from the struggles of the six days and ushers us into the world of eternal Shabbos.
{Matzav.com}