Why I Did Havdalah Alone

Above: The symbols of the Havdalah service: wine, spice box, twisted candle. Havdalah means, separation. The Havdalah service is a brief ritual to bid good-bye to Shabbat and enter the new week.

(An earlier version of this essay originally appeared on the blog site of http://www.ReformJudaism.org)

Havdalah is not much fun when I am by myself, but I do it anyway.

Vickie is  in San Francisco  to have one last look at the home she and her sister grew up in as it is being prepared for sale. She will also visit the two of our children, their spouses and our  grandchildren who live there.

I do not relish us being apart, but as I often say, “We have all been expelled from The Garden of Eden.” None of us has it perfect in life. There is no perfect, marriage, position or friendship. But our tradition urges us to make the best choices of those available to us that we can.

God in the Torah is an example. As Rabbi Samuel Karff, of blessed memory, taught, God had to choose between Esau on the one hand who cared so little for his birthright that he sold it for a bowl of stew, and Jacob on the other who wanted it so badly that he would cheat and lie to get it. Some choice! But if even God had to choose between imperfect alternatives, it should not surprise us that so must we.

I am frequently asked why do we study Genesis’ stories year after year because they are all about highly dysfunctional families.

No argument! But their very flaws make them valuable object lessons for us. We are all flawed too. Jacob and Joseph were obnoxious punks in their youth. Neither becomes perfect, but each grows into a responsible adult to fulfill vital roles in keeping our people’s Covenant with God- a Covenant made for the purpose of creating a just, caring and compassionate society— vibrant and alive.

That brings me back to Havdalah.

In the flames’ reflection I see the days when our three children were young, and we all said goodbye to Shabbat together. Now they are busy adults, in the San Francisco Bay Area and in Connecticut, each pursuing worthy careers that help further the Covenant’s original goal.

If we can’t all be together, at least let Vickie and I celebrate. but this week she is getting one last look at the home which means so much to her.

So I am alone, and frankly it would be easier to skip the ritual. But I don’t because even an imperfect Shabbat ritual holds meaning for me.

I laughed as I lit the Havdalah candle because Vickie rarely lets me do it when we are together. Our Havdalah candle throws off a big, almost scary flame, and Vickie fears I will burn the house down. I thought of her and was extra careful

The bottom line reason I chose to do Havdalah this evening is because I still got to celebrate Shabbat.

I had the privilege of participating in Temple Beth Shalom of Vero Beach’s gala Shabbat
Eve service celebrating the ordination as both Cantor and Rabbi of our Cantor Kelly Onickel. So, Shabbat was still different from the rest of my week in a very sacred way.

And as I extinguished (without burning the house down) our Havdalah candle I contemplated the small steps I might take to draw closer the ever-living hope of our people that like our flawed biblical forbears I too can become a better person, who can help in some small way to make the world a better place.