Shabbos 25
“And my soul is removed far off from peace, I forgot prosperity.”
Today’s text continues the discussion on how to best honor the Sabbath through the lighting of a lamp. We are told that “kindling the Shabbat lights is an obligation, and one is required to eat specifically by that light in deference to the Shabbat.”
An interesting comparison is made between lighting a Shabbat lamp, which is an obligation, and “washing one’s hands and feet with hot water in the evening prior to Shabbat” which is described as “merely optional.” Washing before the Shabbat is characterized as a mitzva – a gift – a moment to enjoy the warm water on one’s hands and feet and face – rather than a requirement.
Rabbi Yehuda bar Elai would wash himself from a bowl of hot water on the eve of the Sabbath, and afterwards “he would wrap himself, and sit in linen cloaks with ritual fringes, and he was like an angel of the Lord of hosts.” What a wonderful image of the content Rabbi resting before the Sabbath in a white robe after washing away all the troubles and misery he may have experienced during the week.
The portrayed act of the Rabbi washing his face and hands reminds us of how prosperous we are when we acknowledge the beauty of simple rituals. Today’s reading provides a modest list of what constitutes prosperity: lighting the Sabbath lamp, which a refugee is unable to do; bathing in a bathhouse; engaging in washing one’s hands and feet in hot water; a pleasant bed and nice sheets which are not available in refugee camps (and let’s skip the mention of a suitable wife.) There is a reminder of the life we lived in the desert when we may not have had all these nice things.
The Talmud provides us with two extremes of what constitutes wealth: Rabbi Tarfon says wealth is a hundred vineyards and a hundred fields, while Rabbi Yosei says it is anyone who has a bathroom close to his table. (Let’s also skip over Rabbi Akiva’s addition to the discussion concerning a wife whose actions are pleasant.)
What constitutes wealth during these times of a pandemic? Is it having a home in the country where you can escape? Or having a nice garden where you can sit and feel the sun on your face during this time of home quarantine? Or is it simply being able to afford a nice bar of soap to wash away the crown of a virus that may be hitchhiking on your hands? I am deeply saddened by the stories of people who don’t have even that. This includes the prisoners who are locked away in crowded New York City jails without access to soap or hand sanitizer and are trying to wash surfaces with any liquid they can salvage, and the people in India who have been let go from their jobs in the cities during the shut-down and are crowding trains trying to return to their hometowns, and the homeless who lack access to basic hygiene, and the refugees who live in camps without running water.
I am envious of the people who are prosperous enough and had enough foresight to escape to their country homes. But while I am sheltering in place in my small New York City apartment in an effort to evade the virus, I can’t help thinking about the people who are so utterly exposed. As I work on my gratitude list, I am most grateful for soap and water and a nice bathroom where I can take a hot bath that is not too far from my dining room table.