Shabbat

Why is carrying a needle out into the street considered "work," while dragging a heavy sofa across the room is not?

The categories of work forbidden on Shabbos... sowing, plowing... baking... weaving... tanning hides... writing... building... kindling a fire... and transferring from domain to domain.

What work is forbidden on Shabbos?

The Torah simply commands that "Six days work shall be done, but on the seventh day there shall be to you a holy day, a sabbath of rest to G-d."

A single example of forbidden "work" is cited: "You shall not kindle a fire... on the sabbath day." [1]

So how are we to define "work"?

The Hebrew word employed by the Torah, melacha, actually means "creative work." Thus, writing a single word is a melacha, while dragging a heavy sofa from one end of the room to the other is not.

This is in keeping with the reason that the Torah cites for observing the Shabbos: "It is an eternal sign between Me and the children of Israel that in six days G-d made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day He rested and He was refreshed."[2]

Obviously, G-d did not sweat and toil to create the world; His "rest" and "refreshment" on Shabbos was not relief from exertion. Rather, for six days G-d created, and on the seventh day He ceased to create. So we attest to G-d's creation of the universe by ordering our lives in the same manner: six days of creative involvement with the world, followed by a seventh day of disengagement from the material and the cessation of all physically transformative activity.

Eating, and Eating on Shabbos

Specifically, the Talmud enumerates 39 categories of "creative work" that are forbidden on Shabbos --- a list it derives from the fact that the Torah juxtaposes the commandment to cease work on Shabbos with its detailed instructions on how to build the mishkan, the sanctuary that served the Jewish people during their wanderings in the desert. [3]

This is to teach us, explains the Talmud, which activities constitute melacha: any creative act that was part of the mishkan's construction represents a category of work forbidden on Shabbos [4] (e.g. herbs were boiled to make the dyes for the mishkan's multi-colored tapestries; so it is forbidden on Shabbos to distill, cook, bake or in any other way effect a useful change in an object by heating it with fire.)

This "roundabout" manner of informing us which categories of work are forbidden on Shabbos is more then an economical use of the Torah's words.

Indeed, the work we engage in during the first six days of the week and which we cease from on Shabbos is, in essence, the work of building a mishkan.

"They shall make for Me a Sanctuary, and I shall dwell within them" [5] --- fifteen materials (gold, silver, wood, animal skins, etc.) were made into an edifice to house the Divine.

Such is man's mission in life: to develop his material self and environment into a "dwelling for G-d," into a sanctuary where His reality is manifestly present. [6]

But the work of the mishkan is weekday work, suspended on Shabbos.

This is not to say that Shabbos is break in our service of the Almighty.

On the contrary: Shabbos is a holy day, a day of heightened spirituality and deeper connection with G-d.

The difference lies in how we serve Him.

During the week, we struggle to change the world, to remake our physical drives and resources into a "mishkan" that serves and expresses the Divine.

But on Shabbos we cease from the effort to transform reality; instead, we relate to the world as it is.

A prime example of this difference is the manner in which we regard physical pleasure on Shabbos.

For example, when we eat during the week, we do so with the intention to utilize the energy we derive from the food to serve G-d. In this way, the material substance of the food and the physical act of eating are transformed: transformed into the energy expended in helping the needy, into the fervor of prayer, into the acumen of the mind studying the Divine wisdom in Torah.

Transformed, that is, into an instrument of the Divine will.

On the other hand, eating for no other purpose than for the sake of physical pleasure is not a constructive -- much less a holy -- act.

Instead of sublimating the material, it has the very opposite effect: it sinks the person deeper into the morass of self, even further distancing him, and the material environment he occupies, from his and its quintessential purpose and function.

On Shabbos, however, pleasure for the sake of pleasure is itself a mitzvah, a fulfillment of G-d's will.

There is no need for the physical to be developed and transformed into something that serves a more spiritual purpose. Deriving pleasure from the material world is itself an act of holiness, an expression of the Divine essence implicit in our existence.

What happens on Shabbos to effect this drastic change in how we relate to the world?

To understand this, we must again look at the nature of G-d's "work" and "rest" in the seven days of creation.

Projection and Withdrawal

Chassidic teaching [7] likens G-d's "rest" on Shabbos to what an artist experiences upon the completion of a work of art.

While he labors, the artist's prowess and vitality are invested in his work; he may actually feel drained of the energy that is flowing from his own soul into his creation.

But when he completes his work, this tremendous projection of mind and talent ceases; he now experiences the "return" of his creative powers and their re-inclusion into his own being.

The same may be applied to G-d: for six days of the week (every week, for creation is G-d's perpetual involvement with our existence to grant it being and life) G-d projects His creative powers into our existence.

On Shabbos, G-d ceases this outward flow, withdrawing back into Himself.

This concept is alluded to by the Hebrew word vayinofash ("and He was refreshed") in the verse quoted above; vayinofash literally means "and his soul returned to him." [8]

There is, however, an important difference between G-d's withdrawal and that of our hypothetical artist.

When the artist pulls back his creative powers, he leaves the completed work behind --- his creation is now an entity wholly separate from himself, no longer dependent upon his involvement. But when G-d withdraws, He takes His work back with Him.

The artist's work is the result of his projection; G-d's work is the projection itself. G-d does not take pre-existing canvas and paints and work His creative energy upon them; what we experience as reality is G-d's creative energy.

This is why the Torah describes G-d's creation of the universe as an act of speech ("G-d said, `Let there be light,' and there was light").

This does not mean that G-d's words caused something else -- the thing we call light, for example -- to come into being. It means that what we experience as light is actually the Divine words "Let there be light."

In other words, by describing creation as G-d's "speech" the Torah is giving us its definition of reality. Speech, as opposed to thought, is the projection of one's ideas outside of oneself.

What is the world?

The world is G-d speaking --- G-d's continued outward projection of His creative powers.

That is what the world is on the six workdays of the week.

On Shabbos, G-d withdraws this projection back into an uncommunicating self.

The world is no longer Divine speech but Divine thought.

No longer is it an existence "outside" of G-d.

This is why the world is "holier" on Shabbos.

Were G-d's work to be "left behind" when He withdraws His creative energies, then the very opposite would be true --- the world would now be further removed from G-d.

But Shabbos is not G-d's withdrawal from creation, but G-d's withdrawal OF creation.

Shabbos is a "holy" day because, on Shabbos, the created existence is reabsorbed into its Divine source.

So for the first six days of the week, we labor to change the world into a "dwelling for G-d."

True, the world is not an existence separate from G-d, and it is certainly not independent of Him --- all it is is His continuing act of "speech."

Nevertheless, G-d relates to the created existence as an outward projection of His creative powers, and this is what allows it to perceive itself as something "outside" of the Divine reality.

So we struggle to divest the world of the illusion and delusion of selfhood. We seek to demonstrate how things do not exist for their own sake, but to serve a higher truth.

On Shabbos, however, G-d ceases to speak the world.

He now relates to it as something that is wholly absorbed within His all-pervading reality.

On the human level, the focus shifts accordingly: now the challenge is to demonstrate how the entirety of the created existence, as it is, is harmoniously one with its Creator.

The Last and Primary Melacha

In light of the above, we can understand the deeper significance of the last melacha on the Talmud's list: the prohibition to transfer objects between "private" and "public" domains (a "private domain" is an enclosed area, such as a home or a fenced yard; a "public domain" is an open public thoroughfare, such as a street or plaza).

At first glance, such "work" hardly seems to qualify as a melacha.

The other 38 categories of work--e.g sowing, writing, building, igniting a fire---are all activities which visibly effect a constructive change in a physical object. But the change effected by transferring an object from domain to domain is far more subtle: all that one has changed is an object's place.

Or, to put it another way, there has been no actual change in an object, only a change in an object's potential---its potential use, originally private, has now been made public (or vice versa).

For this reason, our sages refer to "transferring" as a "weak melacha." [9]

Nevertheless, the very first laws to be discussed in the talmudic tractate Shabbos are the laws which define the various "domains" and the prohibition of transferring objects between them.

For the prohibition to transfer from domain to domain lies at the very heart of what Shabbos is all about.

During the week, the world can be seen as divided into two domains:

1. elements that have been made part of the "private domain" of the One G-d, and
2. the still "public domain" of the diverse, fragmented, "pluralistic" world out there.

On the one hand, we have those aspects of our lives that have been transformed into a "sanctuary" for G-d.

These are the talents and resources that we have enlisted to serve Him, and thereby transformed into expressions of His singular reality.

On the other hand, we have the material "street" --- still not refined and sublimated, still "outside" of its Divine source.

All week long, it is indeed our duty to "transfer from domain to domain."

We strive to bring things from the public province of the mundane into that sacred corner of our lives that is consecrated as G-d's private realm. We also seek to take from this "private domain" out into the street, to make its holiness felt also in the still "public" areas of the material existence.

On Shabbos, however, there is only one reality: creation as the private domain of the Almighty.

And the entire point of Shabbos is to express this truth in our daily lives.

To attempt to change reality -- even for the sake of serving G-d -- is a violation of Shabbos, for it means that one is dealing with the world as if it were something outside of G-d.

In other words, all of the 39 melachot are, in essence, a form of "transferring from domain to domain": by doing creative work on Shabbos -- even the holy work of the mishkan -- one is perpetuating the lie of a "public" world on this wholly private day.

He is both detracting from the private domain of G-d by "taking it out" into the street, and desecrating it by "bringing in" a weekday, mundane air.

(This is the deeper significance of the Hebrew term chilul Shabbos, "desecration of the Shabbos."

The word chalal ("to desecrate") also means "void" or "hollow": by doing work on Shabbos a person introduces a bubble of emptiness into G-d's private domain, creating -- in the realm of his own perception and behavior -- an area that is devoid of G-d's all-pervading reality.)

Shabbos is the endeavor to express the true nature of existence on this day. To live, for 24 hours, the truth that the entirety of creation is the private domain of G-d.

(To be Continued - see below)

Turnosrufus asked Rabbi Akivah:

"If G-d honors the Shabbos, then He should not blow winds on it, He should not cause rain to fall on it, He should not cause the grass to grow on it!"

Answered Rabbi Akivah:

"If two people live in one yard, unless they both contribute to an eiruv, would they be permitted to carry in the yard? But if one person lives in a yard, he has free reign in the entire yard.

"The same is true of G-d: since there is no other authority beside Him, since the entire world is His, He has free reign in the entire world."

On the surface, Rabbi Akivah's answer does not seems to truly address Turnosrufus's question.

At most, it only explains why G-d is "permitted" to move things around throughout the universe on Shabbos, despite the limitations which the laws of Shabbos impose on such activity.

But what of the other types of "work" that G-d performs? Is it permitted to water the lawn in one's own private yard on Shabbos?

The Eiruv

On Shabbos, it is forbidden to transfer an object from a "private domain" to a "public domain" or vice versa.

A "private domain" is an enclosed area, such as a home, a fenced yard, etc; a "public domain" is an open public thoroughfare, such as a street or plaza.

There is also another category: areas that are physically a "private domain" but whose function resembles that of a "public domain."

For example, an enclosed courtyard shared by several homes or the lobby and hallways of an apartment building. Here, too, it is forbidden to transfer articles between "domains."

There is, however, a procedure which makes it permissible to borrow a cup of sugar from the neighbor down the hall on Shabbos, or to take along a house key or baby carriage on a stroll to the park.

This procedure, whose detailed laws take up an entire tractate in the Talmud, is the eiruv.

How does an eiruv work?

First of all, if the area is not already enclosed, it must be physically defined as a singular entity; a thin wire running along the tops of poles will transform a street, a neighborhood, even an entire city, into a halachically "private domain."

Then, something must be done to deal with its resemblance to a "public domain."

This is achieved by taking a loaf of bread, designating it as the common property of all the residents of the enclosed area, and keeping it in one of the homes or apartments.

Because they all have a (potential) meal awaiting them in one place, they are now legally considered a single household.

Hence the halachic term eiruv, which means "combining" or "inter-mixing": the various sub-domains in this physically enclosed area have been integrated into a single "private" province.

What exactly is an eiruv?

Is it a legal gimmick formulated by some ingenious talmudic lawyer? Are we "outsmarting" G-d?

Why, if the Divine law intended that we should not carry from domain to domain, are we devising ways of getting off on a technicality?

But the eiruv is NOT a mere loophole.

Not only does Torah law sanction its use, but it declares that "it is a mitzvah to pursue [the arrangement of] both a courtyard eiruv and one for the street." [1]

Indeed, on a deeper level, the effecting of an eiruv relates to the VERY essence and function of Shabbos.

Transfer and Transformation

Chassidic teaching explains the deeper significance of the prohibition to transfer objects from domain to domain on Shabbos.

Throughout the work-week, our world can be seen as divided into two domains:

1. those elements that have been made part of the "private domain" of the One G-d, and
2. the still "public domain" of our fragmented world.

Ultimately, "the world, and all it contains, is G-d's." [2] But the Creator Himself chose to imbue our world with a sense of plurality and disconnection from its source.

Thus, the physical reality sees itself as something outside and distinct of its Creator, as a "public domain" of diverse forces and elements.

This is the world we inhabit six days of the week: a world divided between the holy and the mundane.

A segment of our lives is devoted to G-dly endeavors --- communing with G-d in prayer, studying His wisdom in Torah, implementing His will through the observance of the mitzvos.

This is the corner of our lives that is manifestly the exclusive domain of G-d. But the rest of our time, energy and resources assumes an autonomous face, engaged as it is in the material pursuits of life.

The challenge of our workday lives is to transfer things from "domain" to "domain."

On the one hand, we appropriate certain elements from the "public" realm and incorporate them as part of the Divinely private corner of our lives (a piece of ordinary hide that is formed into a pair of tefillin, or a coin that is given to charity, are examples of such a "transfer").

On the other hand, we seek to carry forth from the holiness that pervades this G-dly realm into the mundane, "outside" realm.

A person's business, for example, while part of his "secular" and "public" domain, is deeply affected by the "private" dimension of his life: the business adheres to the highest moral standards; a generous portion of its earnings are given to charity; indeed, its entire function is seen as the means to support his holy pursuits.

On Shabbos, however, we take on the very definition of reality.

Shabbos is a day when the world itself is "holier" --- when its mantle of corporeality is that much more transparent and its inner essence that much closer to the surface.

On Shabbos, we cease to indulge the physical world's self-image as an autonomous and plural reality; rather, our lives and behavior attest to the truth that, in essence, nothing exists outside the private domain of G-d.

So we cease from the endeavor to move things from domain to domain, striving instead to exemplify how the world, in its entirety, is the exclusive domain of the Almighty. [3]

His Yard

This is the deeper significance of the prohibition to "transfer from domain to domain."

On Shabbos, it is forbidden in any way to develop and transform the material existence, even if the objective is to "bring in" elements from the "outside" world into the realm of holiness or to "carry out" from the realm of holiness into the outside world. To attempt to do so is a violation of Shabbos, for it means that one is dealing with the world as if it were something separate and outside of its Creator.

In other words, the very endeavors which define the manner in which we serve G-d during the week are forbidden on Shabbos.

Instead of trying to change the world, Shabbos is a time in which to underscore its intrinsic holiness, to relate to its every aspect as G-d's "private domain."

This explains Rabbi Akivah's response to Turnosrufus.

Safeguarding the integrity of the "private domain" is what lies at the heart of commandment to cease work on Shabbos.

Yet for G-d, the concept of "taking out from (or bringing in to) the private domain" is non-existent: not only is everything singularly His, but, from His perspective, there cannot even be the appearance of an other, "public" domain.

Everything He "moves about" in our world, is a movement within His exclusive yard; any "change" wrought by Him in our world on Shabbos is neither a "transformation" nor a "transfer," since the entirety of existence is wholly absorbed within His all-inclusive reality.

*From G-d's perspective, explains Rabbi Akivah, there are no public domains, not even of the lesser category of the truly-private-but-public-seeming domain that necessitates an eiruv. It is only from our perspective that the Shabbos can be violated, since we inhabit a reality that has not yet given up its pretensions to externality and plurality.

For us, Shabbos is the endeavor to express the true nature of existence on this day; to live, for 24 hours, the truth that the entirety of creation is the private domain of G-d.

For us, to do creative work on Shabbos is to perpetuate the illusion that there is existence outside of G-d. For G-d, this illusion simply does not exist.

Effecting the Eiruv

In equating the prohibition against doing work on Shabbos with the prohibition against transferring from domain to domain, Rabbi Akivah speaks specifically of a yard that lacks an eiruv, rather than a bona-fide "public domain."

This is because, ultimately, there is no such thing as a truly "public domain" --- only a "private domain" that presents a public face and appearance. There is no corner of the universe that is outside of the exclusive province of the Almighty---only areas in which the surface reality obscures this truth.

The function of Shabbos is to effect an eiruv in the essentially private but seemingly public domain of the material.

To integrate these externally diverse forces as a singular expression of the all-pervasiveness of their Creator. To make the exclusivity of the Divine "ownership" as real in our world as it is from G-d's own perspective.

Thus, our present-day experience of Shabbos is but a "taste" of "the day that is wholly Shabbos and rest for life everlasting" [4] --- the era of Moshiach.

Today, we make the Divine privacy of Shabbos a reality in our individual lives and communities. But we are still in the six "workday" millennia of history -- the world without still shows a veneer of plurality and disconnection.

In the seventh millennium, when "The glory of G-d will be revealed and all flesh shall see that the mouth of G-d has spoken," [5] the true nature of reality will be readily perceived also by the "flesh" and physicality of the world.