Celebrating the Havdallah in Vukovar
From our interfaith journey to Macedonia and Croatia.
On Saturday evening we stood together in a circle holding candles flickering in the wind under a starry sky on a weathered wooden pier on the Danube River in the town of Vukovar as Rabbi Steve led us in the Havadallah, the traditional ritual to close of the Sabbath. Together we sang the traditional chorus. Then, holding high a glass of red wine, Steve spoke, in Hebrew and in English, the words of blessing of the wine, invoking the sweetness of the Sabbath.
Then we sang the same chorus with increasing confidence and he spoke the blessing of the spices as he lifted a bowl of spice high. Then we passed the cinnamon from hand to hand, its aroma reminding us again of the goodness of a Sabbath spent with God and loved ones. My heart was warmed by the growing bond with my fellow pilgrims on this journey – Muslim, Christian and Jew.
As Steve blessed the flame, reminding us of the illumination available to us on the Sabbath, I reflected that we were standing literally over the Danube, a mighty timeless river that has witnessed so many joys and sorrows, victories and defeats, triumphs and tragedies all occurring on this same site. I was also touched to be participating in a stream of tradition that flowed back through the centuries for probably 4000 years. I felt for a few moments an intense sense of connection to Jewish families closing the Sabbath by celebrating the Havdallah.
But it was as Steve began to sing the traditional song calling for Elijah to come to usher in the Messianic age of peace and the candles were snuffed out in the glass of wine that a wave of emotion swept over me. I recalled that earlier that day we had learned that there had once been Jews living in Vukovar but after World War II not a single Jew resided there. All were displaced or killed in the Holocaust. Then it hit me, this night, for perhaps the first time in 65 years, the Havdallah was being sung in Vukovar.
On Saturday evening we stood together in a circle holding candles flickering in the wind under a starry sky on a weathered wooden pier on the Danube River in the town of Vukovar as Rabbi Steve led us in the Havadallah, the traditional ritual to close of the Sabbath. Together we sang the traditional chorus. Then, holding high a glass of red wine, Steve spoke, in Hebrew and in English, the words of blessing of the wine, invoking the sweetness of the Sabbath.
Then we sang the same chorus with increasing confidence and he spoke the blessing of the spices as he lifted a bowl of spice high. Then we passed the cinnamon from hand to hand, its aroma reminding us again of the goodness of a Sabbath spent with God and loved ones. My heart was warmed by the growing bond with my fellow pilgrims on this journey – Muslim, Christian and Jew.
As Steve blessed the flame, reminding us of the illumination available to us on the Sabbath, I reflected that we were standing literally over the Danube, a mighty timeless river that has witnessed so many joys and sorrows, victories and defeats, triumphs and tragedies all occurring on this same site. I was also touched to be participating in a stream of tradition that flowed back through the centuries for probably 4000 years. I felt for a few moments an intense sense of connection to Jewish families closing the Sabbath by celebrating the Havdallah.
But it was as Steve began to sing the traditional song calling for Elijah to come to usher in the Messianic age of peace and the candles were snuffed out in the glass of wine that a wave of emotion swept over me. I recalled that earlier that day we had learned that there had once been Jews living in Vukovar but after World War II not a single Jew resided there. All were displaced or killed in the Holocaust. Then it hit me, this night, for perhaps the first time in 65 years, the Havdallah was being sung in Vukovar.
Labels: Croatia, interfaith dialogue, peacemaking, Vukovar
posted by Randall E. Butler at 1:13 PM
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