Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 263:1-7

Hook

Imagine the soft glow of olive oil lamps, or the dancing flames of beeswax candles, casting long, warm shadows across a bustling home on Erev Shabbat. The air is thick with the aroma of spices — cinnamon, cardamom, saffron — mingling with the sweet scent of baking challah or kubaneh. Children, freshly bathed, dart about in their finest clothes, while their mother, often with her head covered in a delicate scarf, stands poised before the lights. Her hands move with a practiced grace, drawing the light towards her, her lips moving in silent prayer or a whispered blessing, her eyes closed in deep kavvanah (intention). This is not merely a ritual; it is the very heart of the Sephardi and Mizrahi Shabbat, a profound moment where the physical light illuminates the spiritual essence of the home and family, anchoring a tradition that spans continents and millennia. It is a moment of profound kavod (honor) and oneg (pleasure), a bridge between the mundane week and the sacred day of rest, brought to life through customs as rich and varied as the communities themselves. This radiant warmth, this sacred illumination, is the very soul of Shabbat, carefully nurtured and passed down through generations.

Context

Place

The Arukh HaShulchan, authored by Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein in 19th-20th century Lithuania, stands as a monumental halakhic work, meticulously charting the development of Jewish law. While its author was Ashkenazi, the foundational texts it discusses – primarily the Rambam (Maimonides) from 12th century Egypt/Spain and Rashi from 11th century France – are the very bedrock upon which all Jewish communities, Sephardi and Mizrahi included, built their rich tapestry of minhagim (customs) and interpretations. Our journey today focuses not just on the text itself, but on how these ancient discussions found vibrant expression and distinct practices across the vast and diverse lands of Sephardic and Mizrahi Jewry: from the sun-drenched alleys of Fez and Marrakech in Morocco, to the bustling souks of Aleppo and Damascus in Syria, the ancient lands of Iraq (Babylon), Persia (Iran), Yemen, Bukhara, and across the former Ottoman Empire to Greece, Turkey, and the Balkan states, and, of course, the vibrant communities of the Iberian Peninsula and their descendants in the global diaspora. Each locale infused the universal mitzvah of Shabbat candle lighting with its unique cultural flavor and spiritual depth.

Era

The Arukh HaShulchan itself provides a snapshot of halakhic thought that synthesized centuries of legal discourse, from the Gemara to the Rishonim and Acharonim. The key figures it references, the Rambam (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, 1138-1204) and Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, 1040-1105), represent the foundational pillars of medieval Jewish scholarship. The Rambam, a towering figure of Sephardic heritage, codified Jewish law with unparalleled clarity in his Mishneh Torah, influencing subsequent generations across the Jewish world. Rashi, the quintessential Ashkenazi commentator, illuminated the Talmud and Tanakh with profound insight. The Arukh HaShulchan, though much later, shows how these earlier authorities continued to shape Jewish practice into the modern era. Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, rooted deeply in the traditions of the Geonim and Rishonim, received and integrated these halakhic discussions, often prioritizing the Rambam's rulings, developing their customs with a keen awareness of this rich historical continuum. The practice of lighting Shabbat candles, therefore, is not static; it is a living tradition, evolving yet deeply connected to its ancient roots, reflecting the resilience and spiritual vibrancy of our ancestors through every epoch.

Community

The term "Sephardi/Mizrahi" encompasses a magnificent mosaic of Jewish communities, each with its own distinct dialect, cuisine, liturgy, and, of course, minhagim. While sharing core halakhic principles, the expressions of these laws varied wonderfully. Moroccan Jews, Syrian Jews, Iraqi Jews, Yemenite Jews, Persian Jews, Bukharan Jews, Ladino-speaking Sephardim from Greece and Turkey, and many more, all uphold the mitzvah of Shabbat candle lighting with a profound sense of devotion. Yet, the specific vessels used, the number of candles, the precise timing, the melodies, and the accompanying prayers might differ subtly, or sometimes significantly, from one community to another. These variations are not deviations but rather diverse manifestations of a shared spiritual impulse, each adding a unique thread to the rich tapestry of Jewish life. Our exploration will touch upon some of these diverse expressions, celebrating the unity in diversity that defines the Sephardi and Mizrahi heritage.

Text Snapshot

The Arukh HaShulchan, in Orach Chaim 263:1-7, beautifully articulates the profound obligation of Shabbat candle lighting:

"The Rambam wrote, 'Lighting Shabbos candles is not (some ordinary) optional act... rather it is an obligation for both men and women... Even if you do not have your own food to eat, you must go door to door begging for oil and kindle the light because this (light) is included in "Shabbos Pleasure" (Oneg Shabbos).' And one must say the blessing before the kindling... Rashi explains the reason is 'Honoring Shabbos' (Kavod Shabbos) since you can only hold an important feast in a well lit place."

This passage underscores the mitzvah's absolute necessity, whether for Oneg Shabbos (pleasure) as per the Rambam, or Kavod Shabbos (honor) as per Rashi, and clarifies the requirement to recite a blessing before the act of lighting.

Minhag/Melody

The mitzvah of lighting Shabbat candles, as presented in the Arukh HaShulchan, forms the bedrock upon which Sephardi and Mizrahi communities have built an exquisite array of minhagim and spiritual practices, transforming a halakhic obligation into an emotionally resonant, deeply personal, and communally unifying experience. The moment of candle lighting in Sephardi and Mizrahi homes is often the spiritual apex of Erev Shabbat preparations, imbued with a palpable sense of holiness and anticipation.

The Sacred Vessels and Their Glow

Across the diverse lands of Sepharad and Mizraḥ, the vessels for lighting Shabbat candles reflected local artistry and tradition. In Moroccan homes, one might find intricate brass or silver candelabras, often passed down through generations, holding multiple beeswax candles whose gentle flicker illuminates the mizrah wall. Syrian Jewish families, particularly in Aleppo and Damascus, favored elegant oil lamps, sometimes hanging from the ceiling, their wicks carefully prepared to ensure a steady, pure flame. Yemenite Jews traditionally used elaborate clay or metal oil lamps, known as meshushim or masbata, their multiple spouts creating a dramatic and radiant display, symbolizing the many blessings they prayed for. Persian and Bukharan Jews also often used oil lamps or ornate candlesticks, reflecting the rich artistic heritage of their lands. The choice of oil, often pure olive oil, was not merely practical but symbolic, harkening back to the oil used in the Temple menorah, connecting the home to a sacred lineage. The number of lights varied, often two for husband and wife, but frequently more – one for each child, or seven for the days of creation, or twelve for the tribes of Israel, each flame a silent prayer for blessing.

A Symphony of Silence and Spoken Prayer

While the Arukh HaShulchan emphasizes the blessing, the Sephardi/Mizrahi practice extends far beyond its recitation. The moment a woman lights the candles and recites the berakhah ("Baruch Atah Hashem... asher kiddeshanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu lehadlik ner shel Shabbat"), she typically closes her eyes and covers her face with her hands, not immediately uncovering them. This brief, powerful interlude is reserved for deeply personal and heartfelt tefillot (prayers). It is a cherished minhag for women to offer silent petitions and blessings for their families: for the health and well-being of their children, for shalom bayit (peace in the home), for prosperity, for sustenance, for the success of their husbands, for the ingathering of exiles, and for the peace of Jerusalem. This is not a prescribed liturgy, but a spontaneous outpouring from the heart, a direct communion with the Divine, believed to be particularly potent at this sacred juncture, as the spiritual gates of Shabbat open. The light itself is seen as a conduit for these blessings, a beacon of hope and spiritual clarity.

Drawing in the Light: A Physical Manifestation of Kavvanah

Another beautiful and widespread Sephardi minhag is the physical gesture that often accompanies the lighting. After reciting the blessing and before opening her eyes, many women gently circle their hands around the flames, then draw their hands inward towards their faces or chests, as if symbolically "drawing in" the light and its associated blessings into themselves and their homes. This gesture is rich with meaning: it is an embodiment of accepting the holiness of Shabbat, of bringing its peace and sanctity into the innermost being of the family and the dwelling. It is an act of spiritual embrace, a tactile connection to the transformative power of the mitzvah.

The Prelude to Piyutim

While no specific piyut is recited during the blessing of Shabbat candles, the atmosphere created by the lighting is the perfect prelude to the rich tradition of Sephardi and Mizrahi piyutim and zemirot (songs) that follow. The quiet sanctity established by the candles often transitions into the joyous melodies of Lekha Dodi in synagogue, or the soulful strains of Shalom Aleichem and Eshet Ḥayil sung around the Shabbat table. The light from the candles sets the stage for a Shabbat filled with song, Torah learning, and communal warmth, where every aspect of the day is elevated and celebrated. The minhag of Shabbat candle lighting, therefore, is not an isolated act, but the radiant entryway into the entire spiritual experience of Shabbat, deeply textured by the historical and cultural expressions of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jewry.

Contrast

One of the most well-known and halakhically significant differences in the practice of Shabbat candle lighting between Sephardi and Ashkenazi communities lies in the precise order of the blessing and the lighting itself. This difference, while seemingly minor, reflects distinct halakhic approaches that have been carefully preserved and respected across centuries.

The Sephardi Minhag: Blessing First, Then Light

Following the ruling of the Shulchan Arukh (authored by Rabbi Yosef Karo, a towering Sephardic halakhist of the 16th century), Sephardi Jews, and indeed the Arukh HaShulchan as cited, maintain that the blessing ("Baruch Atah Hashem... lehadlik ner shel Shabbat") must be recited before the act of lighting the candles. This adheres to the general halakhic principle of over la'asiyatan, meaning that the blessing should precede and immediately accompany the performance of the mitzvah. The blessing is intended to sanctify the act, so it logically comes first. For Sephardi women, this means reciting the blessing, then proceeding to light all the candles, sometimes covering their eyes afterward for personal prayer, as described earlier. The act of lighting itself is the fulfillment, and the blessing precedes it.

The Ashkenazi Minhag: Light First, Then Blessing (with covered eyes)

In contrast, the predominant Ashkenazi minhag is to first light the candles, then immediately cover one's eyes (thereby symbolically "not seeing" the Shabbat light yet, and thus not yet accepting Shabbat), and then recite the blessing. The eyes are only uncovered after the blessing is completed. The halakhic reasoning behind this practice is rooted in the concern that lighting the candles itself constitutes the acceptance of Shabbat. If one recites the blessing before lighting, one would be accepting Shabbat before performing the mitzvah, and thus performing the mitzvah (lighting the candles) on Shabbat, which is forbidden. To circumvent this, the custom developed to light first, but to technically delay the acceptance of Shabbat (by covering the eyes) until after the blessing is recited, thereby ensuring the blessing is still over la'asiyatan in effect, while avoiding the transgression of lighting on Shabbat.

Respectful Coexistence

Both customs are entirely valid and deeply rooted in legitimate halakhic considerations, representing different interpretations of how to best fulfill the mitzvah while adhering to other halakhic principles. There is no superiority of one over the other; rather, they stand as beautiful testaments to the richness and depth of Jewish law, allowing for diverse expressions within a shared tradition. Each minhag is followed with profound devotion and respect in its respective community, highlighting the textured beauty of Jewish practice worldwide.

Home Practice

Inspired by the rich traditions of Sephardi and Mizrahi Shabbat candle lighting, here is a small practice anyone can adopt to deepen their connection to this beautiful mitzvah:

Infuse Your Candle Lighting with Personal Kavvanah

Regardless of your specific minhag for the order of blessing and lighting, take a moment after the candles are lit (or after your blessing, if you follow the Sephardi order) to close your eyes. In that brief, sacred pause, allow yourself to offer a personal, heartfelt prayer for your loved ones, your home, and the wider world. Let the gentle glow of the Shabbat candles be a visual reminder of the spiritual light you are inviting into your life. Pray for peace, for health, for joy, for wisdom, or for any blessing that resonates deeply with you at that moment. This practice, echoing the profound kavvanot of Sephardi women through generations, transforms the ritual into an intimate dialogue with the Divine, bringing a unique layer of meaning and spiritual warmth to your Shabbat preparations.

Takeaway

The Shabbat candles, whether oil lamps from Yemen or brass candelabras from Morocco, stand as a universal beacon, yet their light is refracted through the unique prisms of Sephardi and Mizrahi heritage. The Arukh HaShulchan reminds us of the mitzvah's profound obligation, but it is the vibrant minhagim – the silent prayers, the drawing in of light, the meticulous preparation – that truly illuminate its soul. This is a tradition of profound kavod and oneg, a living legacy that connects us to our ancestors, infusing our homes with a sacred glow that transcends time and geography. It is a testament to the enduring power of light to bring peace, honor, and spiritual warmth, uniting all of Israel in its radiant embrace.