Oded Menashe: "Shabbat is Not the Weekend, It is the Center of the Week"

Last Passover, Oded Menashe recounts, he visited Rabbi Yuval HaCohen Asherov and heard a surprising question. "Rabbi Asherov suddenly turned to me and asked, 'Why don't you perform a play about 'Yossele the Holy Miser'?"

"I know the story well; it is a hit in our home," Menashe says. "But when the rabbi asked, I replied that I was no longer doing children's plays. His response was, 'This is a play you must do.' His words struck me deeply, but I did nothing about it."

Three months later, Eilat Rips, a producer in the religious sector, called Menashe. "I want to stage a play with your participation," she informed him. "It's a play based on the story by Uri Orbach 'The Dream Fixer'. What do I need to do to get you to agree?"

Menashe had an unconventional answer for her. "Change the play to 'Yossele the Holy Miser,'" he requested.

Rips refused but didn't give up. She contacted Menashe again and tried to persuade him to participate in the play, but he was adamant: "I'm done with children's plays. Either 'Yossele the Holy Miser' or nothing."

"In the end, I proposed a compromise," Menashe narrates. "I asked who her rabbi was, and she mentioned Rabbi Yaakov Edelstein, rabbi of Ramat HaSharon. Great, I told her. He is also my rabbi. Let's make an agreement. We'll ask him which play to do, and he will decide."

How do you know Rabbi Edelstein?

"I live in Ramat HaSharon and pray in 'Rabbenu Tam 4' alongside Rabbi Edelstein. He is one of the greatest, closer to an angel than to a human. I don't understand how he doesn't collapse—spending all day and night receiving people, listening with such warmth and sweetness—and he's 92! I'm 46, and if I did one day what he does, I would faint. He does it day after day. It's supernatural."

As agreed, Rips and Menashe consulted with the rabbi. After the morning prayer, they approached him together and presented the question. Rabbi Edelstein had no doubts. "'Yossele the Holy Miser'? A wonderful story, excellently told about kindness and giving in secret. You should certainly perform it, and it will succeed greatly." And so the play came to life: it's now starting to be performed on stages across the country.

In the story of the apparent miser, who, after his death, is revealed to be a benefactor sustaining the entire town, Oded Menashe sees a significant parable. "I believe it is a parable for Hashem, who sustains us, provides for us, supports us—and most of the time, we just find reasons to complain about why we don't have more," he says.

Oded Menashe

Oded Menashe and his wife, Eden Harel, began strengthening their faith a few years ago, a process Menashe credits largely to his wife. "There are a few mitzvot we started keeping—much thanks to my wife. I move through it slowly, in a roundabout, flowing way. For her, the lines are very clear. She saw the truth, and there are no more excuses. Everything is clear, and she speaks clearly, doesn't beat around the bush. I've always envied her for having such clarity. Even at home, she knows how to set boundaries. It's essential to have both kindness and judgment at home, and thus you achieve balance."

They started keeping Shabbat four years ago. "Honestly, I don't want to upset anyone, but I don't understand how anyone can live without Shabbat, even though I lived like that for 40 years. I used to pity those who observe Shabbat for not going to the sea, on trips, to shows... It seemed so sad to stay home on Shabbat. I opposed it with all my heart."

So what changed?

"We spent a Shabbat Shuva at Yedidya Meir and Sivan Rahav Meir's, and we kept Shabbat. The following week was Yom Kippur, so we observed that too, resulting in keeping two consecutive Shabbats. On the night after that Shabbat-Yom Kippur, Eden and I looked at each other and said, 'We've hit the jackpot; from now on, we're keeping Shabbat.' In retrospect, I don't know how it's possible without it. All week you're with the phone, email, computer, work—there's always such a noise around you. Suddenly, you close it all down, real silent communication. Sitting together, talking, singing together, eating. It's such a great pleasure. I manage to be the most 'Dad' during these hours. When Shabbat ends, we're in depression. We live off the memories of the previous Shabbat until Tuesday, and on Wednesday, we start preparing for the next Shabbat. You're in peace, in the essence of family, a world of nobility that's very hard to part from."

When friends wish him a 'nice weekend', Menashe recounts, he makes a face. "Shabbat is not the end of the week; it drives me crazy when people call it that. It is the peak of the week, the center of the week!"

Menashe formerly hosted a Hidabroot channel program on marital harmony and peace in the home with Rabbi Simcha Cohen. "Marital peace is perhaps the most important thing, and in 30 programs, we truly managed to focus on many subtopics and essential questions. It was fascinating, and I walked away with many life tips." These tips, he says, can certainly work for those who do not observe Torah and mitzvot, although: "The foundation of all marital peace, and what I recommend even for those who do not observe mitzvot, is family purity. Like with Shabbat—I don't understand how it's possible without it, even though I lived like this for a long time. I don't know how one can survive—and indeed, not many survive. Most of my friends' marriages did not last. Even those who stayed together—there's no real love and happiness. It's a status quo."

How can you explain the effect of family purity?

"It's like with Shabbat: you can't explain it in words, you need to experience it. Can you explain to someone how to swim? Teach swimming by correspondence? Someone tells you: 'Water isn't for me,' you tell them: Try swimming first. Do a few laps, then tell me if it's for you or not. Without experiencing it, you simply don't know.

Near my synagogue, there's a country club. I come to pray on Shabbat and see the families arriving at the country club, and they probably feel sorry for me a lot—poor Oded, going with a tallit instead of swimming...and I definitely go to the country club, but why on Shabbat, the highest day of the week? I know exactly what happens there: 'Take the float, watch out with the popsicle in the car, go out, help mom'... we used to do this and arrived at the end of Shabbat drained. We needed a rest from Shabbat. And suddenly, there's true beauty and rest. I wish I could convey the sweetness of Shabbat to those going to the country club."

Do you suggest people try keeping mitzvot even if they don't yet believe?

"Absolutely. I say, don't think about the spiritual meaning now. That's the second stage. Take the physical, the grounding. 25 hours only with the family—without any electronics. Don't even go to the synagogue, play with the kids. But without a phone and without TV. An island of sanity. The same with family purity: don't learn now what a mikveh is, simply take a break, allow yourselves to experience the longing, the counting of days until you meet again. Experience it once. I say: everyone who wants to have an opinion on Shabbat or family purity should keep them twice properly, and then we'll talk. I want to see that after they say 'I tried and it's not for me.' I haven't encountered anyone like that yet."

Menashe himself, he testifies, grew up in a very secular home. "We felt sorry for religious people, who wore a kippah—we thought he was primitive. Religion sounded awful to me because I did not know it up close. People sometimes tell those who grew up religious: 'Your parents didn't give you a choice.' And was I given a choice? I was in a world of secularism, a world where Shabbat is outings. I didn't experience Torah and mitzvot. I didn't know that faith is infinite and the intellect is very limited.

"Someone who grew up like me must try first. But try properly, not dipping just the tip of a finger in the water, but really swimming. Keep Shabbat properly, keep family purity properly. Do it twice, and then talk. And everyone I know who has tried it so far has stuck with it."