Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 266:8-15

Hook

Imagine the gentle, almost sacred glow of olive oil lamps, their flames dancing in the twilight, reflecting in polished silver or shimmering on the intricate patterns of a Moroccan tile. This isn't just light; it's a bridge across centuries, a whisper of generations past, a tangible beacon of home and holiness. It's the Shabbat light, a profound spiritual infusion as kindled in the diverse hearths of Sephardic and Mizrahi Jewry—a tradition rich with warmth, profound wisdom, and an unmistakable embrace of life that touches all five senses, inviting peace and presence. From the delicate scent of pure olive oil to the fervent, silent prayers whispered over the flickering wicks, this ritual is a vibrant, living testament to continuity and devotion, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary, and time itself into a sacred encounter.

Context

Place

The geographic sweep of Sephardic and Mizrahi Jewry is breathtakingly vast and wonderfully diverse, painting a vibrant mosaic across continents. From the sun-drenched courtyards of Marrakech, where the Atlas Mountains kiss the sky, to the bustling, ancient spice markets of Aleppo and Damascus, where centuries of trade and scholarship intertwined; from the vibrant communities along the Aegean coast in Salonika and Smyrna, with their rich Ladino culture, to the rugged, isolated villages of Yemen, cradling traditions of immense antiquity; from the intellectual hubs of Cairo and Baghdad, where the Tigris and Euphrates flow, nurturing legal and mystical luminaries, to the storied Jewish quarters of Bukhara and Persia, home to distinct cultural expressions. These communities, separated by vast distances and distinct local cultures, each developed their unique "flavor" of Jewish life, yet remained bound by a shared halakhic heritage and an unwavering commitment to tradition.

Era

The traditions we celebrate today are rooted in epochs stretching from the Geonic period in Babylonia, which laid the foundational layers of Jewish law, through the Golden Age of Spain, a period of unparalleled intellectual and artistic flourishing, the subsequent dispersal, and the establishment of vibrant centers within the vast Ottoman Empire. This lineage extends into the rich Jewish life of pre-modern and modern North Africa and the Middle East, a continuous chain of transmission and innovation. This journey saw the rise of towering intellectual figures like the Rambam (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, Maimonides) in Egypt, whose Mishneh Torah codified Jewish law for generations; Rabbi Yosef Karo in Safed, whose Shulchan Arukh became the universal code of Jewish practice; the Ben Ish Hai (Rabbi Yosef Chaim) in Baghdad, a prolific halakhist and kabbalist; and countless other scholars whose legal, ethical, and mystical writings shaped the very fabric of Sephardic and Mizrahi halakha and thought. Their legacies underscore a profound intellectual curiosity, a deep engagement with Jewish texts, and an unyielding dedication to living a life infused with Torah.

Community

These communities were not merely collections of individuals; they were vibrant, self-sustaining ecosystems where Jewish life thrived in all its dimensions. Characterized by deep communal solidarity, often expressed through robust mutual aid networks and strong familial bonds, they fostered a profound love for Torah study—frequently expressed through lively shiurim (Torah lessons) in synagogues and homes, and communal learning initiatives. Their rich liturgical traditions, infused with melodies and piyutim (liturgical poems) unique to each region, were central to communal worship. Sephardic and Mizrahi Jews maintained a fierce devotion to halakha, often expressed through an organic and harmonious integration of local cultural elements into Jewish practice. Whether in the distinctive melodies of their piyutim, the specific, often elaborate, dishes on their Shabbat tables, the unique styles of their synagogue architecture, or even the nuances of their spoken languages (like Ladino or Judeo-Arabic), this integration, far from diluting Jewish identity, often enhanced it. It created a textured, resilient, and deeply rooted Jewish life that celebrated both universal Jewish principles and unique local expressions, ensuring the continuity and vibrancy of their heritage for millennia.

Text Snapshot

Our journey into the halakhic intricacies of Shabbat candle lighting begins with Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein's Arukh HaShulchan, a monumental 19th-century Ashkenazi work. Yet, its authority and the principles it explores are deeply rooted in earlier codes, most notably the Shulchan Arukh of Rabbi Yosef Karo, whose rulings are universally foundational and particularly central to Sephardic halakha. In Orach Chaim 266:8-15, the Arukh HaShulchan delves into the practical and spiritual nuances of this sacred act. We find the fascinating statement in 266:10: "The obligation to light candles for Shabbat is upon the man of the house... but the custom is that women light them." This highlights the interplay between legal obligation and cherished communal practice, acknowledging the profound role of women in the home. The text also underscores the mitzvah's profound importance, stating in 266:9: "If one has no oil or wax, one may light with anything that burns," showing the priority of the mitzvah over specific materials, ensuring its fulfillment even in scarcity. Finally, it emphasizes the sanctity and transformative power of the act, concluding in 266:15: "Once the candles are lit, it is forbidden to extinguish them, even if they are about to go out," affirming the indelible mark Shabbat lighting leaves upon time and space, symbolizing the enduring light of the Jewish home. These insights, while part of an Ashkenazi code, echo the ancient principles revered and practiced across all Jewish communities, deeply resonating within Sephardic and Mizrahi homes.

Minhag/Melody

The moment of lighting Shabbat candles in Sephardic and Mizrahi homes is a profound spiritual infusion, often imbued with customs that are both ancient and deeply personal, meticulously transforming the mundane into the sacred. One of the most distinctive practices, firmly rooted in the Shulchan Arukh itself (Orach Chaim 263:5), is the precise sequence of the blessing. Many Sephardic women, from the vibrant communities of Morocco, Syria, Iraq, Turkey, and Yemen, will meticulously light the candles first, ensuring the physical mitzvah is performed. Only then do they cover their eyes, recite the blessing, and then uncover their eyes, effectively "receiving" Shabbat from the very light they have already kindled. This practice beautifully embodies the halakhic principle of mitzvah over la'asiyatan – performing the mitzvah as immediately as possible after (or even during) the blessing, ensuring the blessing directly precedes the action it sanctifies.

As their eyes remain covered, often a silent, heartfelt prayer, a tehina (supplication), is whispered. These are not formal, prescribed prayers from a siddur, but spontaneous outpourings of the soul—intimate conversations with the Divine. Women pray for the health and well-being of their families, for parnassah (livelihood) and sustenance, for peace in their homes and in the wider world, for the success and spiritual growth of their children, for the redemption of Israel, and for personal spiritual clarity. This intimate moment of communion, bathed in the nascent light of Shabbat, is a powerful and cherished custom, connecting the individual woman to generations of her foremothers who sought solace and blessing in this sacred act.

Beyond the blessing, the number of candles lit also carries rich symbolism and varies by tradition. While two candles are halakhically sufficient, representing Shamor (observe) and Zakhor (remember)—the two distinct formulations of Shabbat in the Decalogue—many Sephardic homes light more. It is common to see seven candles, symbolizing the seven days of creation and the completeness of the week, or one for each member of the family (parents and children), or even one for each child, with an additional candle for parents, symbolizing blessing, completeness, and the desire for a growing, thriving family. This visual abundance of light not only enhances the sanctity and joy of the Shabbat table but also embodies the desire for abundant blessings, radiating warmth and welcome throughout the home.

The atmosphere surrounding candle lighting is often further enriched by piyutim and melodies that carry the unique sonic signatures of diverse Sephardic and Mizrahi cultures. While Lekha Dodi is a universal welcome to Shabbat, its melodies are a vibrant kaleidoscope of regional styles. Imagine the haunting, intricate maqamat (modal systems) of Syrian and Iraqi traditions, where a Lekha Dodi might unfold with a profound, almost mystical depth, often in Maqam Hijaz or Rast, evoking a sense of ancient wisdom and spiritual longing. Or consider the soulful, rhythmic chants of Moroccan and Algerian communities, infused with Andalusian echoes, where the communal singing is robust, full of hadrana (spiritual ecstasy) and a joyous, participatory energy. From the Ottoman-influenced tunes of Turkey and Greece, with their distinct melodic turns and harmonies, to the ancient, unaccompanied vocal traditions of Yemen, each community contributes its unique musical language to the welcoming of the Shabbat Queen. These melodies, often sung with communal fervor and deep emotional resonance, are not merely background music; they are a form of active, joyous spiritual participation, drawing everyone present into the sacred embrace of the day, transforming the home into a sanctuary of song and light. The very air vibrates with the anticipation and reception of Shabbat's holiness, a testament to the power of shared music and tradition that transcends words.

Contrast

The most striking halakhic difference regarding Shabbat candle lighting between many Sephardic and Ashkenazic customs lies precisely in the sequence of lighting and blessing, a nuanced point that highlights the beautiful diversity within halakha l'ma'aseh (practical law). As we've explored, many Sephardic communities, following the direct ruling of the Shulchan Arukh (Orach Chaim 263:5) authored by Rabbi Yosef Karo, light the candles before reciting the blessing, then cover their eyes and say the bracha. This practice is rooted in the general halakhic principle of mitzvah over la'asiyatan – that one should perform the mitzvah as immediately as possible after (or even during) the blessing. The act of lighting itself is the culmination of the mitzvah, and the blessing is recited to sanctify and precede that action, ensuring the blessing is said over the actual performance of the mitzvah.

Ashkenazic custom, however, typically involves reciting the blessing first, then lighting the candles. The rationale for this approach, articulated by later Ashkenazic authorities such as the Magen Avraham (Orach Chaim 263:5) and the Rama (Rabbi Moshe Isserles, in his authoritative glosses to the Shulchan Arukh), is based on the idea that by reciting the blessing over the candles, one effectively accepts Shabbat. Once Shabbat has begun, lighting a fire (a melakha, or forbidden labor) would be prohibited. To circumvent this, Ashkenazic women cover their eyes during the blessing, creating a mental separation. This allows them to recite the blessing, and only after the candles are lit do they uncover their eyes, thereby formally accepting Shabbat only once the forbidden melakha of lighting has been completed. This ensures that no forbidden act is performed after Shabbat has begun.

Both approaches are deeply rooted in legitimate halakhic reasoning and are equally valid, beautiful expressions of devotion. They demonstrate the profound ingenuity and intellectual rigor within Jewish law, where different interpretations of the precise moment of a mitzvah's enactment lead to distinct, yet equally pious, practices. Far from being a source of division, these differences are a testament to the richness and depth of Torah, allowing diverse communities to fulfill a mitzvah optimally according to their received tradition, ensuring the sanctity of Shabbat is ushered in with intention and reverence by all, fostering a tapestry of practice that enriches the entire Jewish world.

Home Practice

To connect with the depth and texture of this Sephardic and Mizrahi tradition, you don't need to change your core minhag or adopt a new one if it conflicts with your family's custom. Instead, embrace the spirit of intentionality and personal connection that animates these practices. When you light your Shabbat candles this week, take a moment after lighting (or after your blessing, whatever your current custom may be) to close your eyes. In that sacred pause, instead of rushing into the next Shabbat preparation, offer a personal tehina – a silent, heartfelt prayer from your soul. Give thanks for your blessings, ask for health and peace for your loved ones, or reflect on the week that was and the spiritual peace of the Shabbat to come. Allow the warmth and gentle glow of the flame to infuse your intentions, connecting you to generations of women and men who have ushered in Shabbat with similar heartfelt prayers and profound devotion across the vast and vibrant Sephardic and Mizrahi world. This simple act can transform your candle lighting into a moment of deep personal spirituality.

Takeaway

The Shabbat candles, across all Jewish traditions, are a universal symbol of peace, light, and the enduring Jewish home. Through the specific lens of Sephardic and Mizrahi minhag, we witness how these profound, shared principles are adorned with unique textures, melodies, and practices—each a precious testament to the vibrant, multifaceted tapestry of Jewish life. It is a powerful reminder that beneath diverse expressions, a singular, brilliant light of Torah and tradition unites us all, illuminating our homes and our souls with holiness, week after week, as we continuously welcome the radiant presence of Shabbat.