8 | DECEMBER 2 • 2021
R
ecently, my husband,
Arye, and I traveled
to the holy city of
Kiryat Arbah for the Shabbat
of Parshat Chayei Sarah, the
Torah parshah that describes
the sale of
the Cave of
the Patriarchs
— Maarat
Hamachpela —
to Avraham
Avinu. We had
the privilege
of spending
Shabbat with my cousins who
have lived in Kiryat Arbah for
more than 10 years.
After reading all the
rules and requirements
and understanding that the
number of expected guests
could reach 30,000, we
decided to arrive early in the
day to avoid traffic and to be
sure to get a parking space.
As Shabbat started, we
began walking down (or is it
always “up” to a holy site?)
to the Maarah in Hebron.
My husband, my cousin
and I were slowly joined by
thousands of Jews, including
Chasidic families, students
in their post-high school gap
year, and local Jewish children
who were showing us the way.
We saw tents, RVs and cars
set up for sleeping, and even
some people walking around
holding mattresses for later.
We arrived at the courtyard
of the Maarah in time for
Kabbalat Shabbat and were
among the first 1,800 people
who could have fit into the
ancient building but decided
against it and found a minyan
of French yeshivah students
outside. As more and more
people drew closer to the
Maarah, the crowd reached
full capacity, and those who
arrived later were left to
daven on the stairs or even
farther away.
The sounds of the different
minyanim, in their different
dialects and traditions
(Ashekenazi, Sephardi,
Chabad, etc.), filled my heart
with spirituality. These were
all different people, whose
history brought them all to
Israel, davening at the same
time, next to one another. All
different, yet all the children
of Avraham and Sarah.
Arye said it best when he
mentioned that this Shabbat
was like a family reunion. No
matter where the children
end up, no matter where their
lives have taken them, no
matter how observant they
are as Jews, they can always
come home to see their
“grandparents” and be with
their family.
Walking back to my
cousins’ house for a delicious
dinner, we smiled at and said
Shabbat Shalom to every
brave soldier along the way,
and they each responded in
turn. After a delicious Shabbat
dinner, Arye and I went back
down the hill to experience
more. This time, we were able
to get inside the Maarah and
visit the elusive Ulam Yitzchak,
Yitzchak and Rivka’s burial
place, which is only open
fewer than 10 times per year
because of political reasons.
At the entrance to the
room, there was a short line
of women waiting their turn,
and I asked one of the women
what they were waiting for.
She told me it is the entrance
to Gan Eden (Garden of
Eden), where our souls will
go when we die, and that the
women were leaning down to
breathe in the sweet and holy
essay
Spending Shabbat in Kiryat
Arbah: Coming Home
Aviva Zacks
A family gets ready for a Shabbat camping adventure.
Thousands gather to pray at the
ancient Cave of the Patriarchs.
BORDER PATROL OF MAARAT HAMACHPELA (TAKEN BY A NON-JEW ON SHABBAT)
PURELY COMMENTARY
NOAM ARNON