Arukh HaShulchan Yomi · Sephardi & Mizrahi Heritage · Standard

Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 268:17-270:1

StandardSephardi & Mizrahi HeritageMarch 11, 2026

A Tapestry of Light, Scent, and Song

Imagine the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of rose and gold, as a single flame dances, reflecting in polished silver, its light beckoning the sacred, its scent a promise of the week to come. This is the heart of Sephardi and Mizrahi Shabbat, a vibrant symphony of tradition woven through generations, across continents, and into the very fabric of our souls.

Context

Place: From Iberia to the Fertile Crescent, and Beyond

The Sephardi and Mizrahi heritage is a sprawling, magnificent mosaic, born from the ancient Jewish communities that flourished not only across the Iberian Peninsula (Sepharad) but also throughout the Middle East, North Africa, Central Asia, and the Caucasus (Mizrach). Our traditions are infused with the unique flavors of Baghdad's bustling souks, the spiritual tranquility of Aleppo's synagogues, the vibrant markets of Marrakech, the intellectual halls of Salonica, and the mystical alleys of Safed. While the Arukh HaShulchan itself was penned by Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein in the Russian Empire (Belarus) in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, it is a monumental work of Halakha that meticulously surveys and synthesizes all major halakhic opinions, including those of the Sephardic Rishonim (like the Rambam) and Acharonim (like the Beit Yosef and the Shulchan Arukh). Thus, even from a Northern European perspective, it provides invaluable insights into the diverse tapestry of minhagim, enabling us to explore the rich Sephardi and Mizrahi practices it references and discusses regarding Shabbat. This text, therefore, becomes a lens through which we can appreciate the global reach and interconnectedness of Jewish law and custom. The Halakha discussed within, particularly concerning Shabbat candle lighting and Havdalah, draws from a wellspring of practices that resonate deeply within Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, reflecting a shared legal heritage interpreted through distinct cultural prisms.

Era: Ancient Roots, Enduring Flourish

The Arukh HaShulchan was completed at the turn of the 20th century (published 1884-1907), an era of profound change and modernization. Yet, the minhagim and halakhic discussions it meticulously records—especially those concerning Shabbat, the bedrock of Jewish life—trace their lineage back millennia. The practices of tosefet Shabbat (adding from the mundane to the holy) or the intricate order of blessings for Havdalah are not new inventions; they are the distillation of centuries of rabbinic discourse, communal adherence, and spiritual longing. This period saw the flourishing of Jewish life in traditional communities even as the forces of modernity began to reshape the world. The Arukh HaShulchan stands as a testament to the enduring power of Halakha to guide and sanctify Jewish existence, bridging ancient wisdom with the practicalities of contemporary life, and often illuminating the subtle variations in practice that had solidified over generations in different regions. It's a snapshot of a living, breathing tradition, honoring its past while meticulously codifying its present for future generations.

Community: A Spectrum of Sacred Practice

The term "Sephardi/Mizrahi" encompasses an astonishingly diverse array of communities, each with its unique melodies, culinary traditions, linguistic nuances (Judeo-Spanish, Judeo-Arabic, Judeo-Persian, etc.), and distinct minhagim. From the eloquent Spanish liturgy of the Western Sephardim to the robust, ancient Aramaic-influenced traditions of Iraqi Jews, from the mystical leanings of Moroccan Jewry to the Persian Jews' poetic sensibilities, and the Yemenite Jews' deep commitment to the Rambam's rulings—there is no single "Sephardi/Mizrahi practice." Instead, there is a rich spectrum. The Arukh HaShulchan, in its comprehensive scope, often cites opinions that align with or are foundational to various Sephardi and Mizrahi practices, even if it ultimately codifies Ashkenazi psak. For instance, it frequently engages with the rulings of the Shulchan Arukh by Rabbi Yosef Karo (a Sephardic giant from Safed), and the Rambam (Maimonides, born in Cordoba, whose influence spans the entire Mizrahi world). This interaction allows us to explore how these foundational Sephardic texts shaped the understanding and practice of Halakha, providing a framework for the vibrant diversity of our communities, where each locale adds its own cherished brushstroke to the grand canvas of Jewish observance.

Text Snapshot

The Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 268:17-270:1, meticulously navigates the sacred boundaries of Shabbat's entry and exit. It discusses the critical concept of tosefet Shabbat for candle lighting, allowing one to accept Shabbat early. It then thoroughly explores the intricate order of Havdalah blessings (over wine, spices, fire, and the separation itself), debating the placement of besamim (spices) and ner (fire) blessings. Finally, it delves into the minhag of gazing at one's fingernails by the Havdalah flame, connecting it to blessings and the renewal of the week.

Minhag/Melody

The Soulful Symphony of Sephardi/Mizrahi Havdalah

The moment Shabbat departs, giving way to the new week, is a tender transition, filled with both a profound sense of loss for the sanctity of Shabbat and an eager anticipation for the blessings of the coming days. In Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, this transition, encapsulated by Havdalah, is often a deeply sensory and musical experience, a multi-layered ritual that engages sight, smell, taste, and sound, preparing the soul for the mundane week ahead while carrying forward the spiritual charge of Shabbat. The Arukh HaShulchan's discussion on the order of blessings for Havdalah, and the practice of looking at fingernails by the flame, provides a perfect springboard to explore the rich tapestry of Sephardi/Mizrahi minhagim surrounding this beautiful ceremony.

Consider the melodies. While the core blessings of Havdalah are universal, their performance in Sephardi and Mizrahi homes resonates with ancient echoes and regional distinctiveness. In Moroccan Jewish homes, the Havdalah often begins with a slow, almost melancholic, yet deeply soulful rendition of "Hinei El Yeshuati," setting a tone of trust and reliance on G-d's salvation. The blessings themselves might be chanted with a unique ornamentation, a ta'am that feels both familiar and distinctly North African. The blessing over the wine, "Borei Pri HaGafen," is often sung with an expansive, almost operatic flourish, signaling the importance of the wine as a symbol of joy and blessing.

In Iraqi and Syrian traditions, the Havdalah ceremony is often marked by a more rapid, even joyful, tempo for some parts, particularly for the piyut "Eliyahu HaNavi." This beloved piyut, sung with fervent hope for the coming of Mashiach and the redemption, is an integral part of many Sephardi and Mizrahi Havdalahs. The Iraqi melody for "Eliyahu HaNavi" is particularly well-known for its uplifting, almost dance-like quality, inviting communal participation and an outpouring of messianic longing. The sound of dozens of voices rising together, harmonizing on these ancient words, creates an atmosphere charged with spiritual energy, a powerful contrast to the quiet solemnity of Shabbat's departure. For the blessing over the spices, "Borei Minei Besamim," the melody is often gentle, almost a whisper, reflecting the delicate nature of the fragrance.

The besamim themselves are a focal point of Sephardi/Mizrahi Havdalah. While Ashkenazi communities often use cloves or myrtle, many Sephardi and Mizrahi communities have developed their own distinctive aromatic traditions. In Moroccan and Algerian homes, it is common to use a piece of cotton soaked in rosewater, sometimes mixed with orange blossom water, or even a fragrant apple studded with cloves. The scent is not merely pleasant; it is believed to revive the soul, which feels diminished by the departure of the neshama yeteira (extra soul) of Shabbat. The Arukh HaShulchan (269:6) discusses various types of spices and their suitability, acknowledging the diversity of practice. The choice of rosewater, particularly prevalent in North Africa and parts of the Middle East, adds a layer of refinement and a subtly different sensory experience, evoking the gardens of paradise and a sense of spiritual sweetness. The passing of the rosewater-soaked cotton among family members, allowing each to deeply inhale the sacred aroma, is a cherished moment of shared spiritual experience.

The ner, the Havdalah candle, also holds special significance. Many Sephardi and Mizrahi communities use a single, thick candle with multiple wicks braided together, symbolizing the unity of the Jewish people and the interconnectedness of all blessings. The Arukh HaShulchan (269:10) specifies that the flame must be "sufficiently large" to discern different shades, and the multi-wick candle certainly fulfills this. As the blessing "Borei Me'orei Ha'eish" is recited, the flame illuminates the faces of those gathered, casting dancing shadows and creating a palpable sense of warmth and intimacy.

It is at this point that the minhag of looking at one's fingernails, which the Arukh HaShulchan (269:11-12) elaborates upon, takes on a profound visual and symbolic dimension. In many Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions, the custom is to cup one's hands, making a fist, and then open them slightly, gazing at the reflection of the flame on the fingernails. This act is not merely observational; it's a meditative practice. The Arukh HaShulchan explains that we look at our fingernails because they are constantly growing, symbolizing the desire for blessings and prosperity in the coming week. The light on the nails is also seen as a reminder of the first light of creation, and the distinction between light and darkness, a core theme of Havdalah. In some communities, particularly those with a stronger kabbalistic influence, the act of looking at the nails is accompanied by specific intentions, focusing on material and spiritual abundance, health, and success. The light on the nail tips is a microcosm of the divine light that permeates the world, a spark of hope for the mundane week ahead.

Finally, the wine itself. In many Sephardi and Mizrahi homes, the Havdalah wine is poured generously, often overflowing from the cup, symbolizing an abundance of blessings for the new week. This overflowing wine, sometimes caught in a saucer, is then used to dab behind the ears, on the eyelids, or in pockets—a tangible blessing to carry into the week. This practice, while not explicitly mentioned in the Arukh HaShulchan in this specific section, is a deeply ingrained minhag in many Sephardi families, representing a yearning for overflowing goodness in all aspects of life. The remnants of the wine are also often shared, a communal drink that seals the transition from sacred to profane.

The Sephardi/Mizrahi Havdalah is thus a rich tapestry of sound, scent, sight, and symbolism. From the poignant melodies of "Hinei El Yeshuati" to the fervent hope of "Eliyahu HaNavi," from the delicate fragrance of rosewater to the dancing light on braided wicks and fingernails, and the overflowing cup of blessing—each element contributes to a powerful spiritual experience that not only marks the end of Shabbat but also infuses the start of the new week with holiness, hope, and the deep, abiding warmth of tradition. It is a moment where the ancient past embraces the present, and the future is blessed with the echoes of generations.

Contrast

The Overflowing Cup: A Symbol of Abundant Blessing

One of the most visually striking and symbolically rich differences in minhag during Havdalah between many Sephardi/Mizrahi communities and some Ashkenazi communities lies in the handling of the wine cup. While the Arukh HaShulchan (269:1) meticulously discusses the order of blessings over the wine, spices, and fire, it also establishes the fundamental requirement for the wine cup to be full, "like a filled cup of blessing" (kos shel bracha). However, the degree of fullness, and what happens next, presents a fascinating divergence in practice that reflects differing cultural emphases on symbolism and prosperity.

In many Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions, particularly those from North Africa, Iraq, and Syria, it is a widespread and cherished minhag to pour the Havdalah wine not just to the brim, but until it overflows from the cup into a saucer or plate placed beneath. This is not accidental; it is a deliberate and deeply meaningful act. The overflowing wine symbolizes an outpouring of blessing, an abundance that cannot be contained within the vessel, reflecting a fervent prayer for an overflowing measure of goodness, prosperity, health, and success in the coming week. It’s a tangible, visual representation of the verse from Psalms (23:5), "My cup overflows" (kosi revaya), expressing a hopeful and optimistic outlook for the week ahead. The excess wine collected in the saucer is often then used for a variety of beautiful customs: some dab it behind their ears (for good hearing of Torah), on their eyelids (for clear vision), or even in their pockets (for financial blessing). Others might dip their fingers into it and touch their hair, or even wipe it on the doorposts of their homes as a protective blessing. This practice imbues the wine with a potent, almost magical, quality, transforming it from a mere beverage into a conduit of divine favor that extends beyond the ritual itself and into the very fabric of daily life. The act of seeing the wine spill over, freely and abundantly, creates a powerful psychological and spiritual impression, reinforcing the belief that G-d's blessings are limitless and will cascade into every aspect of one's existence. It's a bold, confident declaration of faith in divine generosity.

In contrast, while many Ashkenazi communities also ensure the Havdalah cup is full to the brim, the practice of deliberately overflowing the wine is less common, or often absent. The emphasis is typically on having a full cup as a kos shel bracha, signifying completeness and blessing, but not necessarily an overflowing one. The focus might be more on the precise recitation of the blessings and the spiritual transition, rather than the visual symbolism of abundance spilling over. When wine is accidentally spilled, it's often seen as an unfortunate mishap, not a deliberate act of blessing. While some Ashkenazi Jews might use a small amount of leftover wine to extinguish the candle or dab on their clothes, it's usually not from an overflowing cup but from the remaining portion after drinking. The symbolism here leans more towards the contained, perfect blessing, rather than an uncontainable, excessive one. The aesthetic of the ceremony, while equally reverent and beautiful, might prioritize neatness and order, reflecting a slightly different cultural emphasis on how blessings are manifested and received.

Both approaches are deeply rooted in Jewish tradition and respect for the sanctity of the ritual. Neither is superior; they simply represent different cultural expressions of the same underlying desire for blessing and holiness. The Sephardi/Mizrahi custom of the overflowing cup speaks to a profound belief in G-d's expansive goodness, an invitation for divine abundance to literally spill over into every corner of one's life. It's a minhag that turns a simple act of pouring into a powerful prayer, a visual sermon on the generosity of the Creator, enriching the Havdalah experience with a unique and heartwarming layer of optimism and spiritual audacity. It's a testament to how minhagim evolve and express the deep spiritual yearning of a community, transforming Halakha into a living, breathing, and visually captivating experience.

Home Practice

Embrace the Scent: A Sephardi/Mizrahi Besamim Experience

One beautiful and accessible way to connect with Sephardi/Mizrahi Havdalah traditions in your own home is to consciously choose and prepare your besamim (spices) with intention, moving beyond standard cloves or myrtle, if that is your usual practice. This small adoption can profoundly enrich your sensory and spiritual experience of Havdalah.

Instead of simply using pre-packaged cloves or a sprig of myrtle (though these are beautiful and valid), consider creating your own Sephardi/Mizrahi inspired besamim:

  1. Rosewater-Soaked Cotton: Obtain some high-quality rosewater (food-grade, available at most Middle Eastern or specialty stores) and a small piece of cotton wool or a cotton ball. Before Havdalah, soak the cotton in the rosewater. Place it in a small, decorative dish or even a dedicated besamim holder. The delicate, sweet, and uplifting scent of rosewater is a hallmark of Havdalah in many North African and Middle Eastern communities. It's believed to revive the soul after the departure of the neshama yeteira (extra soul) of Shabbat, imparting a sense of spiritual sweetness and renewal.
  2. Spice Blend: Alternatively, create a small blend of aromatic spices. While cloves are common, consider adding a pinch of cinnamon sticks, dried orange peel, star anise, or even a few strands of saffron. These fragrant elements are often found in Moroccan and Persian spice traditions and can add a complex, rich aroma to your Havdalah. Place them in a small pouch or an open dish.

During the "Borei Minei Besamim" blessing, truly inhale the chosen scent. Allow the aroma to transport you, to connect you to the diverse communities across the globe who have savored these very fragrances for centuries. Reflect on the idea that this beautiful scent is a balm for the soul, a promise of renewal, and a bridge between the sacred and the mundane. This simple shift in your besamim can transform a routine moment into a deeply textured, historically resonant, and spiritually invigorating experience, bringing a taste of Sephardi/Mizrahi Havdalah into your own home.

Takeaway

The Sephardi and Mizrahi heritage, beautifully illuminated by texts like the Arukh HaShulchan and brought to life through vibrant minhagim and melodies, is a testament to the enduring creativity and profound spirituality of the Jewish people. It reminds us that Torah is a living tree, its branches reaching across every land and era, each bearing unique and precious fruit, enriching our collective journey with diverse expressions of holiness, beauty, and unwavering faith.