Shabbat has never been something that was observed in my household. I am aware of what it means and some of what it entails, but it is not a regular part of my life. Because of this, I was somewhat nervous about participating in Shabbat activities here in Budapest. I spent a lot of time leading up to Shabbos dinner thinking about how many mistakes I would make and whether I would stick out like a sore thumb. Frankly, I assumed I would make an error pretty quickly. I also assumed I would feel like an outsider, as I have at so many religious events in the past.
Instead, I felt, as I rarely have before, part of a special community. I was surrounded by people all with completely different stories and connections to the Jewish faith. I was not the only person there who was new to the experience, and many of the attendees, residents of Moishe House and their friends, were in various stages of understanding their judaism and figuring out what they wanted to do with that. It was a community that felt welcoming, one that encouraged learning and questions, and one where it was okay to still not know what your place is.
And it was fun. If I’m being completely honest, I have generally thought of Shabbat dinner as a serious event, focusing only on prayer. I was surprised and delighted by the joy and excitement that permeated the evening. We played games, we laughed, we shared food and drink, and we laughed some more. We talked about sports, about books, about education, about hobbies… I am told that the event was planned for about two hours. After three hours we were just saying our goodbyes, and we barely noticed the time pass. Once again, I felt like I was learning more about my colleagues than I thought I ever would.
During the course of the day today, we heard a lot about the struggles of Budapest, and in particular, the Jewish residents, throughout the years. There were stories that make me wonder how people can treat each other the way that they do and how anyone could survive in such conditions. We saw the moving memorial “Shoes on the Danube,” which was one of the hardest things to look at that I have ever seen. But having experienced what I did last night, at Shabbos dinner, in a community of people that the Nazis tried to eradicate, I recognized and was in awe of the amazing resilience of life.
