Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 266:24-267:2

Welcome, dear friends, to a journey through the vibrant tapestry of Sephardi and Mizrahi heritage, where every prayer, every practice, and every melody is a thread woven with intention and devotion.

Hook

Imagine the quiet hush descending upon a Moroccan courtyard as Shabbat gently departs. The air, still warm from the day, now carries the delicate whisper of rosewater, myrtle, and cloves. A family gathers around a single, braided candle, its many wicks reaching towards the twilight, casting dancing shadows on faces lit with reverence and anticipation. Hands, young and old, cup around the flickering flame, gazing at the subtle lines of their palms, a silent blessing for a week of prosperity and light. Then, a voice, rich with centuries of tradition, begins to chant "HaMavdil Bein Kodesh L'Chol," a melody that flows not just from the throat, but from the very soul of generations, bridging the sacred and the mundane. This, my friends, is the flavor of Sephardi/Mizrahi havdalah – a sensory symphony, a spiritual embrace, a testament to resilience and beauty that has been passed down, unbroken, across continents and through time. It is a moment where the scent of spices, the glow of fire, and the depth of song converge, transforming the end of Shabbat into a profound act of spiritual renewal, steeped in the unique wisdom and warmth of our diverse traditions. This is not merely ritual; it is the heartbeat of a people, echoing with the wisdom of hakhamim from Fes to Aleppo, from Baghdad to Izmir, all united in their meticulous care for the divine spark within every mitzvah.

The Arukh HaShulchan, though an Ashkenazi work, engages with and reflects upon the very same foundational halakhot that animate these customs, allowing us a window into the universal principles that underpin Jewish practice, even as their expressions blossom into magnificent, distinct forms across our global family. It is a reminder that while our paths may diverge in their beautiful details, our destination—a closer connection to the Divine—remains eternally shared. We will explore how these ancient laws become living art in Sephardi and Mizrahi homes, where the transition from Shabbat to the week ahead is not just observed, but deeply felt, tasted, smelled, and heard, in ways that resonate with the profound spiritual insights embedded within our heritage.

Context

Place

The Sephardic and Mizrahi world spans an astonishing geographical mosaic, a testament to the enduring spirit of Jewish communities established across vast swathes of the globe. From the sun-drenched courtyards of North Africa—Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya—where communities flourished for millennia, through the ancient lands of the Middle East—Syria, Iraq, Egypt, Yemen, Iran, Bukhara—each with its distinct dialect, culinary tradition, and melodic modes. We also find our kin in the historic heartlands of the Ottoman Empire, encompassing Turkey, Greece, and the Balkans, bearing the legacy of the expulsion from the Iberian Peninsula. These communities, though separated by deserts and seas, maintained vibrant intellectual and spiritual ties, sharing halakhic responsa, piyutim, and philosophical insights. The very names of these places evoke a rich tapestry of Jewish life, where Torah was studied with fervor, mitzvot observed with meticulous care, and Jewish identity shaped by the unique contours of the surrounding cultures, yet always maintaining its distinct and vibrant essence. Each locale contributed its unique spice to the collective havdalah blend, enriching the global Jewish experience.

Era

The traditions we celebrate today are not static remnants of the past, but living streams flowing from ancient springs, continuously shaped and enriched over centuries. Our journey begins with the Geonic period in Babylonia, the cradle of much of our halakhic and liturgical framework. It then flows into the Golden Age of Spain, where luminaries like the Rambam (Maimonides) codified Jewish law, profoundly influencing Sephardic practice. The devastating Expulsion from Spain in 1492 scattered these communities, yet rather than extinguishing their light, it ignited new centers of Jewish life across the Ottoman Empire, North Africa, and eventually the New World. In these new homes, scholars like Rabbi Yosef Karo (author of the Shulchan Aruch) and later, the Ben Ish Chai (Rabbi Yosef Chaim of Baghdad), continued to develop and preserve halakha, ensuring its relevance and vitality. This unbroken chain of tradition, from the earliest codifiers to the contemporary hakhamim, demonstrates an unwavering commitment to Jewish law and spiritual life, adapting to new circumstances while holding fast to the wisdom of the ancients. The Arukh HaShulchan, written in the late 19th/early 20th century, stands as a later testament to this continuous engagement with halakha.

Community

The character of Sephardi and Mizrahi communities is defined by a unique blend of intellectual rigor, spiritual depth, and communal warmth. Central to this is the profound respect for scholarship (hakhamim), whose pronouncements shaped not only halakhic practice but also communal identity. Piyut, the art of liturgical poetry, holds a particularly cherished place, with rich traditions of composition and melodic transmission that imbuse prayer with profound emotional and spiritual resonance. Beyond the synagogue, strong family bonds and hospitality are cornerstones of community life, where the home serves as a vital center for Jewish observance and cultural preservation. Distinctive culinary and musical traditions are not mere embellishments; they are deeply intertwined with halakhic practice, turning every Shabbat meal, every festival celebration, every havdalah ceremony into a multi-sensory experience that engages the whole person. From the intricate zemirot (Shabbat songs) of Syria to the unique havdalah spices of Yemen, these customs are living expressions of a heritage that values beauty, harmony, and the profound connection between the physical and the spiritual, ensuring that Jewish life is experienced not just as law, but as a rich and vibrant way of being.

Text Snapshot

The Arukh HaShulchan (Orach Chaim 266:24-267:2) delves into the intricate laws of Havdalah, particularly when a festival immediately follows Shabbat (known by the acronym YaKNHaZ – Yayin, Kiddush, Ner, Havdalah, Zman). Let's glimpse into its precise articulation of the brachot (blessings):

"מברך על האש בורא מאורי האש, וצריך להסתכל בציפורניו... ויש לאחר ברכת הבשמים אחר ברכת האש, כדי שתהיה האש סמוכה להבדלה עצמה..." (Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 266:25) "He recites the blessing over the fire, 'Borei Me'orei Ha'Esh,' and one should look at his fingernails... And there are those who delay the blessing over the spices until after the blessing over the fire, so that the fire is immediately adjacent to the Havdalah itself..."

"מברך על הבשמים בורא מיני בשמים, ודיו באחד מהם..." (Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 266:26) "He recites the blessing over the spices, 'Borei Minei Besamim,' and one type is sufficient..."

"ובברכות ההבדלה כשיש יין ויום טוב במוצאי שבת, סדר הברכות יקנה"ז..." (Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 267:2) "And regarding the blessings of Havdalah when there is wine and a festival on Saturday night, the order of the blessings is YaKNHaZ..."

These lines highlight the specific blessings over fire and spices, and introduce the special YaKNHaZ sequence, setting the stage for a deeper exploration of how these halakhot are embodied in Sephardic and Mizrahi practice.

Minhag/Melody

The Arukh HaShulchan meticulously details the blessings over light and spices for Havdalah, but in Sephardi and Mizrahi homes, these halakhot transcend mere recitation, transforming into a deeply sensory and communal experience, imbued with specific minhagim (customs) and cherished melodies. The act of Havdalah becomes a bridge, a moment of profound spiritual transition, celebrated with a beauty that engages all the senses and resonates with the soul.

The Besamim: A Symphony of Scent and Soul

The bracha of "Borei Minei Besamim" (Blessed are You, Hashem, our God, King of the universe, Who creates various kinds of spices) is, as the Arukh HaShulchan notes, essential. However, the type and presentation of these spices in Sephardi and Mizrahi communities are an art form in themselves, reflecting local flora, trade routes, and spiritual symbolism.

In Moroccan homes, the besamim often include a vibrant array: fresh sprigs of myrtle (hadas), fragrant rose petals, and a blend of spices like cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg. These might be beautifully arranged in ornate silver spice boxes, often passed down through generations, or presented in small, embroidered pouches. The custom is not just to smell, but to deeply inhale, drawing the "extra soul" (neshama yeteira) of Shabbat back into oneself, comforting it as it departs. The rosewater, often sprinkled on the hands or face, adds another layer of sensory delight, symbolizing purity and renewal. The fragrance lingers, a gentle reminder of Shabbat's sanctity throughout the week.

Yemenite Jews have a particularly unique havdalah custom involving hawayij, a spice blend primarily used in cooking, but which also often makes an appearance at havdalah. Beyond this, they traditionally use fresh sprigs of rue (ruta graveolens), known locally as shabran, or aromatic plants like jasmine or mint. The act of passing these fresh, potent herbs around the family, each person taking a deep, cleansing breath, is a deeply personal and communal act. The scent is sharp, earthy, and invigorating, a stark contrast to the sweetness often found in other traditions, yet equally profound in its spiritual purpose. It is a moment of communal sharing, often accompanied by the father blessing the children, inviting them to participate directly in this sensory mitzvah.

Syrian and Iraqi communities also favor fresh myrtle and cloves, sometimes adding cardamom or saffron to their blends. The spice boxes themselves are often works of art, crafted from silver filigree, reflecting the meticulous attention to detail found in all aspects of their halakhic observance. The communal sharing of the besamim, often held close to the face, is a moment of quiet introspection and gratitude, where the physical act of smelling connects directly to the spiritual yearning for the return of Shabbat. The varieties of spices, from the desert to the coast, reflect the Jewish people's adaptability and ingenuity in finding beauty and holiness in every environment.

The Ner Havdalah: Light, Reflection, and Blessing

The bracha of "Borei Me'orei Ha'Esh" (Blessed are You, Hashem, our God, King of the universe, Who creates the illuminations of fire) is performed over a multi-wick candle. In Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions, this ner havdalah is often a magnificent sight: a tall, braided candle, sometimes woven with different colored waxes, symbolizing the creation of diverse lights on the first day of creation, or the unity of the Jewish people in their varied expressions. The multi-wick nature emphasizes the plurality of light sources, fulfilling the halakhic requirement that the light be substantial enough to distinguish between different objects.

The custom of looking at one's fingernails or palms in the light of the havdalah candle, as mentioned by the Arukh HaShulchan, is widely practiced across Sephardic and Mizrahi communities, though with varying interpretations of its symbolism. Some traditions view the reflection on the nails as a reminder of the human body, created in the divine image, and a blessing for prosperity and success in the coming week, reflecting the light of creation. Others see it as a moment to contemplate the spiritual light within oneself, as the soul is often referred to as a "lamp of God." In many Moroccan homes, after the bracha over the candle, the father will hold the flickering light over the heads of his children and grandchildren, offering individual blessings for health, success, and Torah learning, a powerful visual and spiritual transfer of light and blessing. This personal interaction transforms the abstract halakha into a deeply intimate and familial moment.

The Melody: Soulful Echoes of Havdalah

Beyond the tangible elements, the Sephardi and Mizrahi Havdalah experience is incomplete without its rich tapestry of piyutim and melodies. The core bracha of "HaMavdil Bein Kodesh L'Chol" (Who distinguishes between the sacred and the mundane) is chanted with tunes that vary significantly from one community to another, yet all share a common thread of longing and hope.

In the Syrian tradition, the Havdalah melody often has a melancholic yet hopeful quality, reflecting centuries of both joy and exile. It is sung with a certain gravitas, often with intricate vocalizations that highlight the poetic beauty of the text. Following the blessings, it is customary in many Sephardic communities to sing "Eliyahu HaNavi" (Elijah the Prophet) and "HaGefen" (The Vine). "Eliyahu HaNavi" is a deeply cherished piyut, sung with a yearning for the coming of the Messiah, whose arrival Elijah is destined to announce. The melody, often soaring and full of emotion, expresses hope for redemption, comfort, and peace, transforming the end of Shabbat into a moment of messianic anticipation. In Moroccan and Algerian traditions, this piyut can be sung with particularly beautiful, drawn-out improvisations (maqamat), making it a truly soul-stirring experience.

The piyut "HaGefen," though shorter, also carries significant weight, often sung to a lively, upbeat tune, celebrating the bounty of the land and the blessings of the new week. In some communities, specific zemirot unique to the close of Shabbat are also sung, further extending the spiritual afterglow. For example, in Yemenite Havdalah, after the blessings, there might be a spontaneous outburst of traditional piyutim and songs, often in Judeo-Arabic, celebrating the departure of Shabbat and the hope for a blessed week. The music is often percussive, with clapping and joyful improvisation, reflecting a different emotional landscape from some other traditions, yet equally rooted in deep faith.

These melodies are not merely background music; they are an integral part of the mitzvah, vehicles for spiritual expression that have been preserved and transmitted orally for generations. They connect the present moment to a vast ancestral choir, binding individuals to their community's history and to the broader Jewish people. The minhagim surrounding the besamim and ner, combined with these evocative melodies, transform Havdalah from a simple ritual into a profound, multi-layered celebration of Jewish identity, resilience, and faith, ensuring that the light and fragrance of Shabbat accompany us into the week ahead.

Contrast

The Arukh HaShulchan, as a foundational Ashkenazi halakhic work, articulates the minhagim prevalent in Ashkenazi communities. Within the passage we are examining (266:25), it states a specific order for the blessings of Havdalah when discussing the ner (candle) and besamim (spices): "...ويש לאחר ברכת הבשמים אחר ברכת האש, כדי שתהיה האש סמוכה להבדלה עצמה..." (And there are those who delay the blessing over the spices until after the blessing over the fire, so that the fire is immediately adjacent to the Havdalah itself...). This clearly indicates a preference for reciting Borei Me'orei Ha'Esh (over fire) before Borei Minei Besamim (over spices) in a regular Havdalah ceremony. This preference is indeed the widely accepted Ashkenazi practice, often stemming from the Rama (Rabbi Moshe Isserles) who adds glosses to the Shulchan Aruch, and his reasoning, which emphasizes the direct connection between the light and the Havdalah blessing itself, as the fire is the most active element of the Havdalah that required a bracha from Hazal (Sages).

However, in many Sephardic and Mizrahi communities, particularly those who strictly follow the explicit order presented in the Shulchan Aruch by Rabbi Yosef Karo (Orach Chaim 296:8), the custom for regular Havdalah (i.e., when a festival does not immediately follow Shabbat, and thus YaKNHaZ is not applicable) is to recite Borei Minei Besamim before Borei Me'orei Ha'Esh. The Shulchan Aruch lists the blessings for Havdalah as: Gefen (wine), Besamim (spices), Ner (candle), Havdalah (the bracha itself). While the Shulchan Aruch doesn't explicitly state the reasoning for this order in this particular verse, Sephardic poskim and minhagim have often understood this sequence as normative.

The rationale behind the Sephardic practice of Besamim before Ner is rooted in several interpretations. One common explanation revolves around the concept of Tadir v'She'eino Tadir, Tadir Kodem (that which is more frequent or more constant takes precedence). The enjoyment of scent is seen by some as a more frequent and therefore potentially more 'constant' pleasure than the specific act of looking at the Havdalah candle. More profoundly, the scent of the besamim is often understood as a comfort to the departing neshama yeteira (additional soul) that accompanied us on Shabbat. This spiritual comfort is considered paramount and thus takes precedence, soothing the soul before it returns to its weekday state. The scent provides a spiritual balm, a gentle transition, whereas the light of the candle, while significant, serves a more functional purpose of distinguishing between light and darkness, which is directly tied to the end of Shabbat.

Furthermore, some Sephardic authorities explain that the bracha over the besamim is a bracha she'nehenin (a blessing of enjoyment), while the bracha over the ner is a bracha al hamitzvah (a blessing over a mitzvah). While both are important, some interpretations prioritize the bracha she'nehenin as a direct engagement with the sensory world in a sanctified manner, preceding the more formal bracha over the mitzvah of light itself.

It is crucial to note that this difference in order is a beautiful example of how halakha, while deriving from a common source, can manifest in diverse ways, each with its own profound spiritual logic and historical trajectory. Both minhagim are equally valid and deeply rooted in authoritative sources. The Arukh HaShulchan's articulation of Ner before Besamim (as the Ashkenazi practice) and the Shulchan Aruch's implied order of Besamim before Ner (as a widely observed Sephardic practice) are not in contradiction regarding the core halakha of reciting the blessings, but rather in the preferential sequence. They each reflect a nuanced understanding of spiritual priorities and the symbolic significance of each element of Havdalah, enriching the overall tapestry of Jewish observance without implying superiority of one over the other. The beauty lies in the respectful preservation of these distinct pathways to holiness.

Home Practice

For anyone wishing to connect more deeply with the rich flavors of Sephardi/Mizrahi Havdalah in their own home, a wonderful and accessible practice is to elevate the experience of the besamim (spices) and the ner (candle), infusing them with greater intention and sensory engagement.

1. Crafting Your Besamim Blend: Instead of simply using a pre-made spice box, take a moment to intentionally select and prepare your besamim.

• Choose Your Spices: Embrace a variety of aromatic elements. While cloves are common, consider adding fresh sprigs of myrtle (hadas if available), dried rose petals (for a Moroccan touch), a pinch of cinnamon, or even a few cardamom pods (popular in some Mizrahi communities). You can create a small, personal blend.
• Presentation: Place your chosen spices in a small, beautiful dish or a specially designated fabric pouch (even a simple, clean piece of cloth can work). The act of arranging them thoughtfully adds to the kavanah (intention).
• Intention during the blessing: As you recite "Borei Minei Besamim," truly inhale the fragrance. Reflect on the idea that this sweet scent is comforting your departing neshama yeteira, helping it transition gently from the spiritual height of Shabbat to the demands of the week. Let the aroma fill you with a sense of peace and renewal.

2. Engaging with the Ner Havdalah: While multi-wick braided candles are traditional, even a standard Havdalah candle can be used with enhanced kavanah.

• The Light's Reflection: After reciting "Borei Me'orei Ha'Esh," instead of just a quick glance, take a moment to truly look at the reflection of the candle's light on your fingernails or the lines of your palms.
• Sephardi Intentions: As you do so, consider the Sephardi custom of blessing for prosperity, clarity, and protection in the coming week. Some traditions connect the lines on the palm to the Hebrew letters for חי (chai - life) or שדי (Shaddai - a name of God), or see the light as a blessing for the work of your hands. Others use this moment to bless their children, silently or aloud, for health and success.
• A Moment of Contemplation: Let this be a brief, reflective pause. Acknowledge the distinction between the sacred light of Shabbat and the creative light of the weekday, and carry the warmth and clarity of that light into your week.

By adopting these small, intentional steps, you transform a halakhic obligation into a rich, sensory, and spiritually resonant experience, echoing the depth and beauty of Sephardi and Mizrahi Havdalah traditions.

Takeaway

Our exploration of Havdalah through the lens of Sephardi and Mizrahi tradition, guided by the precise halakhot of the Arukh HaShulchan, reveals a profound truth: Jewish law is not a rigid, monolithic edifice, but a living, breathing tree whose roots are deep in Sinai, and whose branches blossom into a myriad of beautiful, diverse forms across time and geography. The meticulous attention to the order of blessings, the choice of spices, the form of the candle, and the specific melodies are not mere preferences; they are expressions of a deep spiritual yearning and an unbroken chain of transmission that has adapted, innovated, and persevered.

We have witnessed how the halakhic requirement to recite "Borei Minei Besamim" transcends into the rich sensory experience of Moroccan rosewater and myrtle, Yemenite shabran, or Syrian cloves. The simple bracha "Borei Me'orei Ha'Esh" becomes a moment of familial blessing and deep contemplation as the light dances on palms and fingernails, connecting us to creation itself. And beneath it all, the enduring power of piyut and melody, like "Eliyahu HaNavi," transforms the transition from Shabbat into a heartfelt prayer for redemption, a testament to the eternal hope that burns brightly within our people.

The respectful contrast we observed in the order of besamim and ner blessings between Ashkenazi and Sephardic minhagim is a powerful reminder that there is not one "right" way to be a Jew, but rather a spectrum of authentic practices, each imbued with its own deep wisdom and spiritual logic. These differences are not divisive, but enriching, showcasing the intellectual vibrancy and spiritual depth inherent in our tradition. They invite us to appreciate the beauty of varied expressions, while affirming the shared foundation of our faith.

Ultimately, the Sephardi and Mizrahi approach to Havdalah teaches us that halakha is meant to be lived, felt, and celebrated with our entire being. It is an invitation to engage all our senses in the sacred, to transform routine into ritual, and to find beauty and meaning in the seemingly mundane transitions of life. As the light of the Havdalah candle fades and its sweet fragrance lingers, we are reminded of the enduring light of Torah and the fragrant legacy of our ancestors. May we continue to cherish, explore, and transmit these precious traditions, ensuring that their beauty, wisdom, and warmth continue to illuminate our homes and hearts for generations to come. Shavua Tov – may it be a good and blessed week, filled with light and spiritual growth.