Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 263:8-15

A warm, inviting glow emanates from within – the soft, steady light of Shabbat candles, a beacon of peace and holiness, illuminating homes and hearts across generations and continents.

Hook

Imagine the gentle flicker of pure olive oil lamps, their brass or clay bodies gleaming softly, casting dancing shadows on walls that have heard centuries of piyutim and prayers. This is the heart of the Sephardi/Mizrahi Shabbat home, a moment suspended between the work-week's hustle and the tranquility of sacred time, where a simple light transforms a dwelling into a sanctuary. It’s a moment imbued with profound reverence, joyous anticipation, and the continuity of a heritage as rich and diverse as the lands from which it sprang. This light is not merely illumination; it is a living flame of tradition, passed from mother to daughter, from generation to generation, whispering tales of resilience, beauty, and unwavering faith. It carries the scent of ancient oils, the warmth of communal memory, and the vibrant pulse of a people dedicated to God's commandments. In that golden glow, one can almost hear the echoes of Ladino songs, the lilting melodies of Arabic piyutim, and the earnest supplications murmured in Judeo-Persian, all converging to usher in the Queen of Shabbat. It is a light that has journeyed across oceans and deserts, through empires and exiles, always finding its way back home, a testament to an enduring spiritual legacy. It is the very essence of kavod and oneg Shabbat, a physical manifestation of a spiritual truth, bringing light into the world, one blessed flame at a time. This single image encapsulates the profound depth and radiant beauty of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jewish life – a celebration of light, life, and enduring heritage.

Context

The tapestry of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jewry is woven with threads of extraordinary richness, stretching across vast geographical expanses and millennia of history. To understand our approach to halakha and minhag, especially concerning a foundational observance like Shabbat candle lighting, we must situate ourselves within this vibrant context.

Place

Our journey begins not in one locale, but many. From the sun-drenched shores of North Africa – Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya – to the ancient lands of the Middle East – Syria, Iraq, Egypt, Yemen, Persia (Iran), Bukhara – and further west to the Iberian Peninsula, and later, the Ottoman Empire (Turkey, Greece, the Balkans), the Jewish people thrived, developed, and preserved unique customs. Each region, while deeply connected to the broader Jewish world, fostered distinct expressions of Judaism, influenced by the surrounding cultures yet fiercely independent in their religious identity. The scholars of Fez, Baghdad, Aleppo, Cairo, Salonica, and Sana'a, though geographically distant, were bound by a shared commitment to Torah, often engaging in lively halakhic discourse and enriching each other's traditions. The very nomenclature, "Sephardi" (from Sepharad, Spain) and "Mizrahi" (Eastern), hints at this vast spread, encompassing communities with diverse culinary, linguistic, and musical traditions, all unified by a common heritage and a profound love for HaShem and His Torah. This expansive geography ensured a rich variety of minhagim, where local practices became imbued with deep reverence, reflecting the unique journey of each community.

Era

Our traditions are rooted in antiquity, tracing back to the Second Temple period and flourishing through the Geonic era (6th-11th centuries CE) in Babylonia, which heavily influenced the subsequent development of Jewish law. The Golden Age of Spain (10th-15th centuries) saw an intellectual and spiritual zenith, producing giants like the Rambam (Maimonides), whose legal codification became a bedrock for Sephardi halakha. Following the expulsions from Spain and Portugal in the late 15th century, these Sephardic communities dispersed across the Mediterranean, North Africa, and the Ottoman Empire, carrying their rich customs and legal traditions, often integrating with existing Mizrahi communities or establishing new vibrant centers. This period of dispersion was not one of decline but often one of resurgence, with new halakhic centers emerging in places like Safed, Salonica, and Izmir. Throughout the centuries, from the medieval rishonim to the later achronim, the meticulous transmission and interpretation of halakha remained paramount, ensuring a continuous chain of tradition. The Arukh HaShulchan, though a later Ashkenazi work (19th-20th century), meticulously cites and engages with these earlier Sephardic authorities, providing a comprehensive overview that often reflects the foundational principles articulated by the Rambam and other Sephardic poskim. Our customs are therefore not static relics but living, evolving practices, deeply informed by this multi-century, multi-continental dialogue.

Community

The Sephardi and Mizrahi communities are characterized by a profound reverence for halakha (Jewish law), often emphasizing the rulings of the Rambam as a primary authority, though always in dialogue with other great poskim. There is a strong communal spirit, where minhagim are cherished as sacred expressions of identity and continuity. Learning, piyut (liturgical poetry), and a vibrant spiritual life are hallmarks. Family purity (Taharat HaMishpacha), kashrut, and Shabbat observance are central pillars, approached with meticulous care and joyous devotion. The role of women in preserving and transmitting these traditions, particularly within the home, is immensely significant. They are often the primary custodians of the minhagim surrounding Shabbat and holidays, their actions imbuing everyday life with sanctity. The communities fostered a deep appreciation for the aesthetic and sensory aspects of religious observance – the melodies of piyutim, the aroma of special Shabbat foods, the intricate beauty of ritual objects, and, of course, the comforting glow of Shabbat lights. This communal ethos, rooted in a blend of intellectual rigor and heartfelt devotion, has ensured the flourishing of Sephardi and Mizrahi heritage through countless challenges, always upholding the sanctity of Jewish life and the beauty of its observances.

Text Snapshot

The Arukh HaShulchan, a monumental halakhic work by Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein (19th-20th century), provides a rich lens through which to examine Jewish practice. In Orach Chaim 263:8-15, he delves into the profound obligation of Shabbat candle lighting, drawing upon foundational Sephardic thought, particularly that of the Rambam (Maimonides).

He begins by citing the Rambam: "Lighting Shabbos candles is not (some ordinary) optional act... rather it is an obligation for both men and women to have in their homes a light for Shabbos." The text emphasizes that this duty transcends economic status, stating, "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' (the mitzvah to have Oneg Shabbos)."

Crucially, the Arukh HaShulchan then addresses the blessing: "And one must say the blessing before the kindling: Blessed are you Hashem our God King of the Universe Who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to kindle a light for Shabbos. One recites this blessing just like we do for all Rabbinical requirements."

He further explores the rationale, noting that while not every aspect of oneg Shabbat (Shabbat pleasure) requires a blessing, "the kindling of the light was a Rabbinical ordinance in itself." He then presents a nuanced distinction between the Rambam's emphasis on oneg Shabbat and Rashi's focus on kavod Shabbat (honoring Shabbat), explaining Rashi's view that "you can only hold an important feast in a well lit place." Thus, the text highlights two interconnected yet distinct reasons for this sacred observance: the joy and pleasure of Shabbat, and the honor and dignity due to this holy day.

Minhag/Melody

The Arukh HaShulchan's discussion of Shabbat candle lighting resonates deeply with the rich and diverse minhagim (customs) of Sephardi and Mizrahi communities. While the fundamental obligation to light is universal, the specific ways this mitzvah is beautified and observed reveal the unique textures of our heritage. Our approach emphasizes both the profound spiritual significance and the meticulous, often beautiful, execution of halakha.

The Golden Glow: Oil Lamps and Their Significance (300 words)

For centuries, and still in many homes today, the preferred method of kindling the Shabbat light among Sephardim and Mizrahim was, and often remains, with pure olive oil lamps, rather than wax candles. This preference is deeply rooted in tradition and practicality. Olive oil, particularly virgin olive oil, was historically the most common and purest fuel available in the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern regions. Its light is soft, warm, and steady, evoking a sense of ancient continuity. The Rambam himself, a foundational Sephardic authority, explicitly discusses oil lamps in the context of Shabbat.

These lamps were not mere utilitarian objects; they were often works of art, reflecting the aesthetic sensibilities of their communities.

• Yemenite Jews traditionally used simple, elegant clay lamps, often unglazed, filled with olive oil and a cotton wick. Their beauty lay in their unadorned purity, symbolizing the simplicity and strength of their faith.
• Moroccan and Iraqi Jews often favored elaborate brass or silver lamps, sometimes adorned with intricate filigree or engravings. These might be single-wick lamps or feature multiple spouts for several wicks, becoming central decorative pieces in the Shabbat home. The careful polishing and preparation of these lamps each week was an act of kavod Shabbat in itself.
• Syrian Jews in cities like Aleppo and Damascus used similar ornate metal lamps, often passed down through generations, each scratch and dent a testament to countless Shabbat eves. The preparation involved not just cleaning the lamp but also carefully twisting the cotton wicks, ensuring a clean, bright burn.

The use of olive oil carries additional symbolic weight. Olive trees are revered in Jewish tradition, signifying light, wisdom, and peace. The flame of an oil lamp, gentle and enduring, mirrors the eternal flame of the Torah and the Jewish people. While wax candles are certainly used and accepted, the deep connection to olive oil lamps remains a cherished minhag for many, evoking a sensory link to generations past. The soft scent of burning olive oil, mixed with the aromas of Shabbat cooking, forms an indelible memory for those raised in these traditions.

The Number of Lights and Their Personal Meaning (300 words)

Unlike the prevalent Ashkenazi custom of adding a candle for each child, many Sephardi and Mizrahi communities adhere to a fixed number of lights, often imbued with rich symbolism, or simply maintain the minimum requirement of at least one light per household. The Arukh HaShulchan's text mentions "a light for Shabbos," emphasizing the fundamental need for illumination rather than a specific quantity.

• Two Lights: A widespread minhag is to light two candles, representing shamor (observe) and zachor (remember), the twin commandments of Shabbat mentioned in the Ten Commandments. This also often symbolizes the husband and wife, the two pillars of the Jewish home. This is a common practice across many Sephardic communities, from North Africa to the Middle East.
• Five or Seven Lights: In some communities, particularly among Moroccan and Algerian Jews, five or seven lights are common. Five lights might symbolize the five books of the Torah (Chumash), or the five fingers of the Hamsa, a symbol of protection. Seven lights could represent the seven days of creation, the seven days of the week, or the seven sefirot (divine emanations) below Keter. These numbers often reflect Kabbalistic influences that became prominent in certain Sephardic centers, particularly after the expulsion from Spain.
• Twelve Lights: A more elaborate minhag, found in some Syrian and Iraqi Jewish homes, is to light twelve candles, symbolizing the twelve tribes of Israel, or sometimes even thirteen, for the twelve tribes plus Klal Yisrael (the entirety of the Jewish people). This practice, while less common today, speaks to a desire to invoke blessings upon the entire community.

What unites these diverse practices is the intention behind them: to enhance kavod and oneg Shabbat. The number is secondary to the quality of the light and the sanctity of the act. The focus is on the beauty and honor given to Shabbat, rather than a precise tally. For many, the very act of meticulously preparing the lamps and wicks, regardless of their number, embodies this reverence. The fixed number also emphasizes continuity and adherence to established family or communal tradition, rather than dynamic change.

The Sacred Sequence: Bracha Before Lighting and Post-Lighting Tefillot (400 words)

The Arukh HaShulchan explicitly states: "And one must say the blessing before the kindling... One recites this blessing just like we do for all Rabbinical requirements." This clear directive forms the bedrock of the Sephardi/Mizrahi practice regarding the sequence of the bracha (blessing) and the mitzvah (commandment) of lighting Shabbat candles.

In most Sephardi and Mizrahi communities – be they Moroccan, Syrian, Iraqi, Turkish, Greek, Yemenite, or Persian – the bracha is recited before any wicks are lit. The woman (or man, if lighting) stands before the unlit lamps, recites the blessing, "Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha'olam Asher Kideshanu B'mitzvotav V'tzivanu L'hadlik Ner Shel Shabbat," and then proceeds to light the candles. This follows the general halakhic principle of over l'asiyatan, meaning the blessing should precede the performance of the mitzvah. The act of lighting itself completes the mitzvah, so the blessing must come first. There is no custom of covering the eyes or delaying the benefit of the light. The light is immediately welcomed and embraced as a sacred presence.

This moment, immediately after the bracha and lighting, is often accompanied by profound personal tefillot (prayers). For Sephardi and Mizrahi women, in particular, this is a highly cherished and deeply personal spiritual moment. After kindling the flames, they will often stand for a few quiet moments, their hands sometimes circling the candles or placed over their eyes, offering heartfelt supplications in their native tongue or Hebrew. These prayers are often spontaneous and deeply personal, reflecting the hopes, fears, and gratitude of the individual. Common themes for these post-lighting tefillot include:

• For the well-being of the family: Health for children, a good livelihood (parnassah) for the husband, peace in the home (shalom bayit).
• For spiritual growth: That children should be G-d-fearing and scholars of Torah.
• For shidduchim (matches): For unmarried children to find their partners.
• For refuah shleimah (complete healing): For the sick among family and friends.
• For the redemption of Israel and the coming of Mashiach.

These moments of silent, earnest prayer imbue the act of lighting with an additional layer of spiritual intensity, making it not just a ritual but a direct channel of communication with the Divine. In Moroccan Jewish homes, for example, it is common for the mother to offer a blessing for each child by name at this time, often placing her hands on their heads if they are present. In Iraqi and Syrian traditions, specific phrases or short piyutim related to Shabbat or blessings for the home might be quietly murmured. This custom reinforces the idea that the Shabbat light brings not only physical illumination but also spiritual light and blessings into the home. It is a powerful testament to the spiritual agency and profound piety of Sephardi and Mizrahi women, who traditionally carry this sacred responsibility.

Melodies of Shabbat: The Ambiance Created by the Light (100 words)

While no piyut is directly recited during the lighting itself, the Shabbat candles create the sacred ambiance for the piyutim and zemirot (Shabbat songs) that follow. The soft glow sets the stage for the communal singing of L'cha Dodi and Shalom Aleichem in Sephardic melodies, often rich with Middle Eastern or Andalusian influences. Later, during the Shabbat meal, songs like Tzur Mishelo (Syrian/Iraqi), Bendigamos (Ladino, from Turkey/Greece/Balkans), or specific Ladino romansot would fill the candlelit room. The light is a silent witness and facilitator of these joyous expressions, binding the community not just in ritual but in shared song and spiritual exultation. The warmth of the light and the warmth of the voices combine to create an unforgettable Shabbat atmosphere.

Contrast

The Arukh HaShulchan's explicit instruction regarding the blessing for Shabbat candles – "One must say the blessing before the kindling... just like we do for all Rabbinical requirements" – highlights a significant and well-known halakhic difference between many Sephardi/Mizrahi and Ashkenazi minhagim. This divergence, far from being a point of contention, is a beautiful illustration of the rich tapestry of Jewish law, where different interpretations of the same halakhic principles lead to distinct, yet equally valid, practices.

The Timing of the Bracha: Before vs. After (600-800 words)

The core of the distinction lies in when the blessing is recited in relation to the act of lighting the candles.

The Sephardi/Mizrahi Practice: Bracha First, Then Lighting (350-450 words)

As articulated by the Arukh HaShulchan and universally practiced across Sephardi and Mizrahi communities (e.g., in Morocco, Syria, Iraq, Yemen, Turkey, Greece, Persia, etc.), the blessing is recited before any of the candles are lit. The person lighting, typically the woman of the house, stands before the unlit lamps or candles, recites the full blessing: "Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha'olam Asher Kideshanu B'mitzvotav V'tzivanu L'hadlik Ner Shel Shabbat," and then proceeds to light the wicks.

The halakhic reasoning behind this practice is straightforward and aligns with the general rule for most mitzvot. The principle is over l'asiyatan, meaning "the blessing precedes its performance." A bracha is meant to be recited before one begins to fulfill a commandment, not after it has been completed. The act of lighting the candle is the completion of the mitzvah of hadlakat ner Shabbat. Therefore, the blessing must be said before the first wick is kindled. This ensures that the bracha is recited while one is still in the process of preparing to fulfill the mitzvah, rather than after the mitzvah itself has been fully accomplished.

This practice reflects a direct and literal application of the halakhic framework established by the Geonim and later codified by the Rambam, who is a foundational authority for most Sephardic poskim. The light itself is welcomed immediately upon kindling, as a sacred element that ushers in the holiness of Shabbat. There is no concern about "benefiting" from the light before the blessing, because the blessing is understood as being on the act of lighting, which is initiated with the bracha. The moment the first flame catches, the mitzvah is considered to be in progress, and the home is already beginning to receive the kedusha (holiness) of Shabbat. This tradition emphasizes the directness and simplicity of the mitzvah and its accompanying bracha. The act is clear, the blessing is clear, and the sequence is unambiguous.

The Ashkenazi Practice: Lighting, Covering Eyes, Bracha, Uncovering Eyes (250-350 words)

In most Ashkenazi communities, the practice differs. The woman first lights all the candles. After lighting, she covers her eyes with her hands, recites the blessing, and then uncovers her eyes, thereby "receiving" the benefit of the Shabbat light after the blessing has been said.

The halakhic rationale for this practice stems from a different interpretation and a concern about deriving benefit from a mitzvah object before its blessing. The light of the Shabbat candles is considered the "fruit" or "benefit" of the mitzvah. If one recites the blessing and then lights, one would be deriving benefit (seeing the light) before the blessing is completed. To avoid this potential issue, and to ensure that the bracha is recited before deriving benefit, the candles are lit first. Since the act of lighting itself initiates the acceptance of Shabbat (for the woman lighting), and one cannot light after accepting Shabbat, a mechanism is needed to allow the bracha to be said without an immediate and "unblessed" benefit. Covering the eyes allows the bracha to be recited after the lighting (which fulfills the mitzvah and accepts Shabbat) but before actually deriving visual benefit from the light. By uncovering her eyes after the blessing, she is then "accepting" the light and the full sanctity of Shabbat.

This minhag gained prominence in Ashkenazi communities over centuries, with various poskim offering different justifications and nuances. It reflects a particular stringency and a deep reverence for the timing and sequence of blessings and actions.

Respectful Coexistence and Shared Purpose

It is crucial to emphasize that both practices are deeply rooted in legitimate halakhic considerations and are considered equally valid within Klal Yisrael. Neither tradition claims superiority; rather, they represent different pathways to fulfilling the same sacred commandment. The beauty lies in the diversity of minhagim, each reflecting a particular emphasis or interpretation by our sages. Both traditions achieve the ultimate goal: to bring the sacred light of Shabbat into Jewish homes, fulfilling the obligation of kavod and oneg Shabbat. This difference in practice is a testament to the richness of Jewish law and the enduring respect for established traditions across various communities.

Home Practice

The profound obligation and joyous nature of Shabbat candle lighting, as illuminated by the Arukh HaShulchan and celebrated across Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, offers beautiful pathways for anyone to deepen their connection to Shabbat. This isn't about altering one's own established minhagim but rather about drawing inspiration from a rich tradition to enhance mindfulness and intention.

Embrace the Intention: Preparing for the Light (300-400 words)

Inspired by the Sephardi/Mizrahi emphasis on kavod Shabbat – the honor of Shabbat – and the meticulous preparation of the lamps, we can elevate our own Shabbat candle lighting experience with greater intention.

• Mindful Preparation: Before Friday, take a moment to clean your candlesticks or oil lamps with special care. Polish them until they shine. If using oil, prepare the wicks thoughtfully, perhaps twisting them yourself if they are cotton. If using candles, choose beautiful ones, perhaps scented with rose or jasmine, scents often cherished in Sephardi homes. This act of preparation transforms a mundane chore into a sacred prelude, signaling that something special is about to occur. It's an active way to honor Shabbat before it even arrives, channeling the spirit of those who prepared elaborate brass lamps for the arrival of the Queen.
• The Power of the Bracha Sequence: For those who traditionally follow the Ashkenazi practice of lighting first, covering eyes, and then reciting the bracha, consider a moment of reflection on the Sephardi practice. While not necessarily changing your custom, understand the intent behind reciting the bracha before the mitzvah is completed, as discussed in the Arukh HaShulchan. This can deepen your appreciation for the bracha itself, recognizing it as the invocation that initiates the sacred act. If you wish to experience this tradition directly, and your family minhag allows, try reciting the bracha "Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha'olam Asher Kideshanu B'mitzvotav V'tzivanu L'hadlik Ner Shel Shabbat" before lighting the first wick. Feel the intentionality of invoking the divine command prior to bringing forth the light. This simple shift can be a profound connection to the halakhic reasoning cherished in Sephardi communities.
• Personal Tefillah After Lighting: After you have lit your candles, and before rushing into other Shabbat preparations, take a moment for quiet, personal prayer. Inspired by the heartfelt tefillot offered by Sephardi and Mizrahi women at this sacred time, stand before the glowing flames. Close your eyes, or simply gaze at the light, and offer your own spontaneous prayers. Speak from your heart – for your family's health, peace, prosperity, for the well-being of Klal Yisrael, or for any personal needs. This is a moment of direct connection, a private sanctuary within the home, where the light of Shabbat amplifies your intentions and carries them heavenward. You might even quietly hum a Sephardic piyut melody, allowing the sound to fill the space and further deepen the spiritual atmosphere. This practice fosters a deeply personal and meaningful engagement with the mitzvah, transforming it into a moment of profound spiritual communion.

Takeaway

The Shabbat candles, in their gentle, unwavering glow, represent far more than mere illumination. They are a powerful, enduring symbol of the Sephardi and Mizrahi spirit – a testament to our profound reverence for halakha, our meticulous care for minhag, and our unwavering commitment to bringing holiness into the home. From the Rambam's insistence on the obligation, even for the most impoverished, to Rashi's emphasis on kavod Shabbat, the Arukh HaShulchan reminds us that this light is foundational to the joy and honor of Shabbat. Whether through the ancient glow of olive oil lamps, the symbolic numbers of wicks, the precise timing of the bracha, or the heartfelt tefillot murmured in their warmth, the Sephardi/Mizrahi tradition of Shabbat candle lighting is a vibrant, living flame. It is a beacon of continuity, connecting us to generations past, illuminating our present, and guiding us towards a future filled with light, peace, and the enduring beauty of our shared heritage. May its light continue to shine brightly in our homes and hearts, ushering in the peace and sanctity of Shabbat with every blessed flicker.