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The goal of Shabbat is to take time away from continually creating and instead foster understanding, build bridges within our diverse community, and really see one another.
By: Jamie Geller
In the wake of Oct. 7 and the subsequent surge of antisemitism worldwide, many have asked how we should respond to this darkness. The answer, I believe, lies in one of our most powerful traditions: Shabbat.
The great Hebrew essayist Ahad Ha’am famously observed, “More than the Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.” Today, these words resonate with unprecedented urgency. As Jewish people face increased hostility and isolation, Shabbat stands as our most potent tool and a beacon of hope for unity, resilience and pride.
The Jewish people have always found strength in unity and tradition. Shabbat is a unifying force that brings Jews from all backgrounds together. It’s a beautiful testament to the power of our shared heritage, transcending geographical boundaries and levels of religious observance.
Consider this: every Friday night across Israel, something remarkable happens. In a country where more than half the population identifies as secular, more than 70% of Jewish families still gather for Shabbat dinner. It’s a weekly ritual that is kept by the majority of the population regardless of their level of religious observance. This isn’t just tradition—it’s resistance through existence, and it is laying the foundation of our spiritual and communal future brick by brick.
My own journey to living a more Jewishly inspired life began with Shabbat. It is what I fell in love with, and it is what helped me fall in love with Judaism as a way of life. I started keeping Shabbat after attending a Discovery Shabbaton run by Aish, and my life has never been the same since. For me, Shabbat is that “moment” in time during the week when I can finally exhale and breathe. It’s an always-scheduled and never-missed 25-hour opportunity to meditate, contemplate and connect while reinvesting in my family, my friends, and myself. It is the day that I refuel and recharge for the next great week and the very fuel on which a continued life of greatness runs.
On a larger scale, the power of Shabbat lies in its ability to create community. When we gather for Shabbat dinner, whether in Jerusalem or Johannesburg, we’re not just sharing a meal—we’re witnessing and sharing in each other’s lives in the most supportive and meaningful ways. In a world where the social fabric is increasingly fraying, where family gatherings become rarer and community bonds weaker, Shabbat provides a revolutionary answer: a consistent weekly connection.
Shabbat serves as our best response to antisemitism and our best hope at building a Jewish future. When hatred seeks to isolate us, Shabbat brings us together. When fear threatens to silence us, our Shabbat candles illuminate the darkness. Shabbat gives us a chance to pass our traditions down to the next generation while also encouraging each family to invite guests, others who may not have what to eat or may not yet connect to the day or their faith, and celebrate the day together. Our unified celebration of Shabbat demonstrates our unshakeable resilience.
This week, I participated in two challah bakes leading up to Shabbat in South Africa. More than 5,000 women are expected to participate in two events, one in Cape Town and the other in Johannesburg. Despite the country’s antagonistic political stance towards Israel, Jewish communities come together every year and make this profound statement of Jewish pride and resilience. Thousands of Jewish women gathered to celebrate one aspect of Shabbat in a very public event. We showed that not only will we stand up for our way of life but that no amount of hatred or violence will ever silence us and that we will continue to build our families to ensure a Jewish future. Each batch of challah braided, each candle lit and each blessing recited becomes an act of resistance against those who would prefer we hide our identity. These are powerful statements of Jewish pride and communal strength, and by making them, we pass on the message to those who may be scared or sitting on the fence, as well as to future generations that we have a rich gift and message to share with the world.
The beauty of Shabbat as a response to antisemitism lies in its accessibility and its passivity. Shabbat is a passive time when we refrain from creation, and this is true for creating strife as well. Shabbat doesn’t require confrontation or political action. Instead, it invites us to strengthen ourselves, our families and our communities through ritual and connection. Whether you’re traditionally observant or exploring Jewish traditions for the first time, Shabbat welcomes you with open arms.
The goal of Shabbat is to take time away from continually creating and instead foster understanding, build bridges within our diverse community, and really see one another. It is an opportunity to strengthen our bonds and reaffirm our shared identity with those around us.
We need Shabbat more than ever. It provides a much-needed, powerful antidote to the isolation and fear that many Jews are experiencing. By coming together, whether physically or in spirit, we remind ourselves and the world of the beauty and resilience of Jewish life.
Our response to those who hate us should be to embrace our traditions more fully, to celebrate our identity more openly and to strengthen our communities more intentionally. Every Shabbat dinner table is a fortress of resilience. Every challah braided is a link in our chain of tradition. Every candle lit is a beacon of hope and defiance. Shabbat isn’t just a set of rituals; it’s our weekly reminder that we belong to something greater than ourselves. Shabbat is our declaration that we will not only survive but thrive.
The call to action is clear: Make Shabbat your personal response to antisemitism. Whether it’s joining a community dinner, hosting friends for the first time or simply lighting candles with your family, each act of Shabbat observance strengthens our collective resistance. Because, in the end, the strongest response to those who wish to extinguish our light is to make it burn brighter.
(JNS.org)
