Every week, we sing these words from Parshat Ki Tisa:  “V’shamru v’nei Yisrael et hashabbat.”  The people of Israel shall keep Shabbat, observing Shabbat throughout the ages as a covenant for all time.”  What does it mean to “keep shabbat?”  Jews have diverse opinions about what keeping Shabbat means.  For some, it’s not turning on lights or driving.  For others it’s staying off social media.  For still others, it’s lighting candles and devouring delicious, warm challah.  As Reform Jews, keeping Shabbat doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing for us as it does in the Orthodox community, but that doesn’t mean that we simply ignore it. Reform Judaism demands that we make educated, conscious choices about our observance, that we engage in the question of what “keeping” Shabbat can mean for us.

As I ponder this question, my mind drifts (as it so often does) to melody.  There are hundreds of melodies for the V’shamru texts.  Composers share with us their idea of what prayers mean to them through the melodies they write.  The most common tune that I think of for V’shamru is one written by Moshe Rothblum.  We sing this melody congregationally and with great joy.  Everyone knows the tune.  Rothblum’s shabbat is community and celebration.  This melody brings me to the service and to the dinner table, to hand clapping and foot stomping.  The tune makes me think of kids standing and turning in one of those teen prayer dances particular to NFTY youth.

Another popular melody for V’shamru is the “South African” one – which was falsely attributed to South African tradition, but which likely actually originated in Europe.  This melody is gentle, like a lullabye.  Shabbat according to this song is restful and gentle. 

I’ve been doing a new-to-me setting of V’shamru lately by Cantor David Shukiar.  This version reminds me of “Fiddler on the Roof,” and thus brings to mind the communal memory for Ashkenazi Jews of the Eastern European shtetl.  The melody makes me want to snap my fingers and dance, and makes me “nostalgic” for a time that I never actually experienced, though perhaps I have in that “we all stood at Sinai” sort of way.  The congregation learned the tune on first singing and always look happy when they hear the introductory notes.

My favorite V’shamru is one we rarely do because it’s not congregational or simple in any way.  Maurice Goldman wrote a V’shamru that I can only describe as ethereal.  This, to me, is the other side of V’shamru. This is the spiritual mystical V’shamru that lies at the root of the joyful singing, swaying ,and praying.  It vibrates through the air like the strings connecting heaven and earth, and floats toward an unknowable infinity. 

As a cantor – part of “Keeping Shabbat” is finding a place for all of these melodies.  Through music, I endeavor to bring all of the aspects of Shabbat into the room so that each can touch the person who needs it.  Through joy, community, spirituality, and connection, we touch Shabbat, and through music Shabbat touches us and thus “l’dorotam b’rit olam” – through the generations it is an eternal covenant.

V’shamru – Goldman