So, before we could even unpack our suitcases, the winter break came and went.
I hope your holidays were full of family, tinsel, gifts, Santa, mistletoe and every other Christmas cliché imaginable—for those of you who celebrate Christmas, that is. You’re probably thinking, “Wait. What? There are some folks who do not celebrate Christmas?” That is correct, and I, as a Jewish person, am one of them.
I have always been exposed to Christmas, despite being excluded from it. The “spirit of Christmas” hijacks the music on radio stations, the commercials on TV, the décor on my neighbors’ properties and the merchandise in the mall.
It’s sort of like being the only kid in class who wasn’t invited to a birthday party. Everyone’s talking about it, but you aren’t allowed to go. As a child, I dreamed of the day my parents would finally give in and let us celebrate.
In my mind, Christmas was a fantasy (about elves, magical reindeers, and presents) that I had concocted using my main source of knowledge on the subject – TV specials. That fantasy later became sipping eggnog by a fireplace with my family as we sang Christmas carols.
The thing is, I don’t like eggnog and none of my relatives can play the piano. The Christmas I have come to know and love is probably one that does not exist.
This winter break, I was fortunate enough to spend Christmas vacationing in Israel with my family. In a place where the population is around 75 per cent Jewish and 16 per cent Muslim, spotting one sole Christmas tree is a novelty this time of year.
A lady on my tour asked our guide if everything would be closed on December 25 because of Christmas day. He replied, “Yes. Everything will be closed, but NOT because of Christmas. It is because of Shabbat.”
Sabbath (also known as Shabbat) is the Jewish day of rest, which takes place every Saturday. According to Jewish law, we are not allowed to do any form of “work.” Therefore, in Israel, stores and restaurants close and there is hardly any traffic. Hearing “Shabbat Shalom” (have a nice Sabbath) from my cab drivers and hotel concierges was a unique experience for someone who grew up consistently being asked what Santa brought for Christmas.
In fact, I probably spent that Sabbath as I would have spent Christmas, had I ever celebrated it. Firstly, I felt truly unified with my cultural counterparts (aka fellow Jews). Secondly, I had a wonderful dinner with my loved ones, I relaxed and I abstained from the stresses of everyday working life. As a result, I was able to reflect and count my blessings.
I guess the moral of the story is that the Christmas I always longed for has always been available to me. Sabbath happens every Saturday, meaning that I have always had and always will have the opportunity to take time off from studying or working, surround myself with good company, and appreciate the life I live.
Christmas break may be over, but the holidays don’t have to be. Jewish or not, there is always another Saturday.