Community lives wherever members of Congregation Etz Hayim gather.
In October 2024, the Etz Hayim community brought back a prepandemic tradition: taking turns hosting a monthly havdalah at home. The Jewish ceremony marking the end of Shabbat takes on a new meaning when the nearly 20 attendees are gathered in a more intimate setting: “People are opening up their homes,” Rav Amelia Wolf of Etz Hayim said.
“I think that especially in modern American Judaism, a lot of us operate under the misconception that the synagogue is the center of our Jewish life and practice when really it should be our home,” Wolf said. “There are so many home-based rituals that people do as families.”
She added that many people spend “most of their time” in their homes, so it makes sense to bring the tradition closer to them: “Our Jewish practice lives wherever we go.”
People of all ages attend the havdalah gathering, from children and teens to middle-aged and older adults. Attendees nosh and chat, and older kids play with the younger children.
“It just feels more personal,” said Naomi Harris, the chair of Etz Hayim’s membership committee. “It feels like a group of friends.”
There is a 15-minute prayer — a blessing over wine, spices and fire respectively — which aims to set the tone for a joyful week ahead.
Harris’ role is to welcome new members of the Etz Hayim community and connect them to potential friends. She hosted a havdalah at her Arlington home on March 8, complete with a firepit in her backyard.
“These are really comfortable ways for participants to get to know each other and they’re also a really low-barrier entry to Jewish practice,” Harris said of the havdalah in a congregant’s house. “Havdalahs are short, and you sing and they’re fun — they’re a really nice start to the week.”
She said she feels that attendees feel not only more connected to one another but also connected to their Judaism. Wolf noted that congregants today aren’t as attracted to synagogue services compared to previous generations, which is where the havdalah gatherings come into play.
“There are whole groups of people out there that aren’t drawn to religious services, but they really want Jewish community too,” Wolf said. “For our shul to be a Jewish home to the Jews of Arlington, it can’t only be about coming on Shabbat or holidays into the synagogue building.”
She added that other synagogues and clergy have caught on to the concept of “bring[ing] the community out to where people are and where people want to be.”
Weekly Shabbat services are important to the rabbi, who is also the daughter of a rabbi, but Wolf recognizes that not every Jewish person may share this sentiment.
“We also need to serve members of the Jewish community who aren’t as interested in coming to shul on Shabbat,” she said.
Because Shabbat is what Wolf calls the holy and labor-free “pinnacle of the week,” she spoke to the importance of offering a gentle transition into a new week, avoiding the “emotional whiplash” that one can experience from rapidly switching frames of mind.
“We’re going to do it gently,” Wolf said. “We’re going to do it with some sweet spices that will ease us and ease our passing into the rest of the week, to light a flame and say, ‘We’re bringing light back into the rest of the week.’
“It’s a ritual that covers what I believe is a human need to say that life isn’t all A or B. We need these transitions and times where we mark distinction without just throwing ourselves from one side to the other.”
And the Etz Hayim community embraces this transition together, with kids involved as well — Harris said some children are excited to hold the candle and sizzle out the flame in the plate of wine.
“I love that [havdalah in a congregant’s home] comes from our members,” Wolf said. “With their idea, they say, ‘I want to continue our Jewish community.’ … I love that our community members have those ideas and feel empowered to do that.”
