"Six days you may do your work; but the seventh day will be holy, a sabbath of sabbaths to God" (Exod. 35:2).
The Businessman and the Beggar
Jonathan had been on an extended business trip, far from home, and it was beginning to take its toll. The days dragged on, filled with endless meetings and a sea of faceless strangers. He missed his family, his friends, and the spirited arguments at shul. Whenever he met a fellow traveler, he seized the opportunity to extract any morsel of news, no matter how trivial.
One afternoon, a panhandler appeared in town. Ragged clothes and disheveled hair, collecting handouts and small change. Jonathan spotted him and did a double-take. Could it be? Yes, it was. Thus man was from his hometown! The recognition hit Jonathan like a bolt of lightning. This was it—his chance to get the latest news from home.
He rushed to the beggar’s side, his excitement palpable. “I know you! You’re from my town! Tell me—how’s my family? How’s the shop? What’s new in town?”
The beggar blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by the barrage of questions. “What? Why are you pestering me like this? I don’t have time for idle chatter. I’m here to collect donations, not stand around swapping gossip.”
Lonely and desperate for news, Jonathan didn’t relent. “Tell me, how much do you expect to collect today?”
"On a good day, I can make $250."
Jonathan immediately opened his wallet and handed him the entire sum. “Here, take it. Now you can stop begging and spend the day with me. I want a full report—everything that’s happened in our hometown since I left.”
The beggar was somewhat taken aback but he agreed. He pocketed the money and began recounting the events of the past few months—family affairs, neighborhood gossip, the whole shebang.
But as time wore on, Jonathan noticed something troubling: The beggar’s voice slowed, his sentences trailed off. His eyes grew heavy. Then, with alarming indifference, he let out a loud yawn. His head began to dip before he caught himself.
“I’m sorry,” the beggar apologized. “I’m just so tired. Is there a place here where I could take a nap for a few hours?”
Jonathan was indignant. “What? I paid you generously so you wouldn’t have to go from door to door begging. You’re supposed to be awake now, giving me a full, uninterrupted report on the state of my family and friends. Why do you think that you can go to sleep and ignore my questions?"
A Day for a Homesick Soul
The Creator breathed into us a lofty, elevated soul, formed beneath His holy throne. A soul that yearns to be close to God. All week long, we go about our daily lives—working, eating, chasing after the fleeting things of this world—and our soul finds itself in exile, far away from home.
But then, once a week, God extends an invitation: Shabbat. A day when we are free from the burdens of work and the demands of the mundane, a day when we can draw near to God and rejoice in the love He has for us.
The Torah says, “Six days you may do your work.” For six days, we are busy with worldly matters. "But the seventh day will be holy, a sabbath of sabbaths to God."
Shabbat is not merely a day of physical rest. It is a day to elevate our lives, to immerse ourselves in higher pursuits: prayer, Torah study, and reflection. It is a day of spiritual renewal—not to be spent simply relaxing and sleeping, but to allow the soul to reconnect to its Maker.
As the Sages taught:
“The Sabbath and holidays were only given to Israel so that they will occupy themselves in Torah study” (Jer. Talmud Shabbat 15:3; see Beit Yosef, Orach Chaim, 288:1).
(Adapted from Mishlei Yaakov, pp. 176-177)