Every Shabbat, after morning services, we offer a delicious kiddush. Many of our congregants look forward to it all week as part of their “shul experience” – come, pray, eat some cholent, say l’chaim and inspire one another with words of Torah.
Last Friday, the caterer asked me what time I wanted him to deliver the kiddush food. It was a local restaurant so I told him 5pm, figuring he had at least an hour before Shabbat came in, which would give him enough time to drop off the food and get back before Shabbat. The plan would have worked flawlessly, except that I didn’t know that the President would be visiting the Upper East Side at exactly that time…
At 5:10 there was still no sign of our kiddush, and when I called the caterer he explained the traffic problem. Cars were jammed up. Traffic was at a standstill. Time ticked on, 5:20, 5:25, 5:30… and still the traffic was only inching along. Needless to say, I was getting quite nervous!
At 5:45 it was getting close to sundown, at which point we would not be allowed to put food in the oven anymore, and there would be no kiddush.
At 5:50, I was thinking to myself that if the President thinks the Republicans are giving him a hard time in Congress, wait till he sees what happens when our community finds out there’s no kiddush because of the traffic his visit is generating!
Traffic was SO bad that two of our congregants couldn’t make it to services—they were stranded on the West Side since all the crossing points were closed.
So, I called on some local congregants and together we waited outside for the car to arrive. With literally two minutes to spare, the caterer pulled up and our team rushed all the food into the oven at the very last second.
Whew! Catastrophe averted.
People often ask me, “Why is it so important to have a kiddush in shul? Don’t we come to pray? Shul is a place to escape the material world—not a restaurant!”
In this week’s Torah portion, Isaac feels that his death is imminent and wants to bless his son before he passes on. He calls his son Eisav and sends him to prepare a good “Kiddush”—i.e., “…make for me tasty foods as I like, and bring them to me, and I will eat, in order that my soul will bless you before I die.”
Rivka, Isaac’s wife, knows that their other son, Jacob, is more deserving of the blessings. So she sends Jacob to dress in Eisav’s clothing and “trick” his blind father into blessing him instead.
But what about the food? Rivka sends him to, “Go now to the flock, and take for me from there two choice kids, and I will make them tasty foods for your father, as he likes.”
And that’s what happens. Jacob brings the food to his father, they say l’chaim over some wine, and once Isaac is satisfied, he blesses Jacob with the eternal blessings.
Judaism does not spurn the physical world. It teaches us to utilize the mundane for holy purposes, thereby elevating it and creating a dwelling place for G-d on this earth.
This is why Jews have been enjoying kiddushim for centuries. A kiddush is a tool—we eat, drink and feel the camaraderie, which makes us more receptive to Torah.
This ability—to use the physical to inspire us spiritually, was part of the blessing Isaac gave to Jacob, which is why he needed to eat meat before giving the blessings.
Let’s all enjoy a delicious cholent this Shabbat and say a good l’chaim!