Just a Shabbes. An Inner Magnet of Jewish Cultural Code

Recently, we were lucky to attend a very nice Shabbat gathering on Friday evening, almost literally at the serene Baltic shore of Jurmala in Latvia, near its capital Riga. 

One can say that it has been one of many Shabbes gathering in summer destinations, we all have attended it at some point. But this one was not. 

There were over sixty people in the hall, from more than ten countries world-wide: local attendees from Riga and Jurmala, and many of us from all over the world, the US, Canada, France, Germany, Switzerland, Finland, and Israel. 

We might not even know about it, but the way our host, the young Chabad Lubavitch schiach in the resort of Jurmala Rabbi Mendel Zilbershtrom led the evening, has made all of us to speak and greet the others briefly, so the picture of the presence of the people around the table came clear and visible. 

Around the long and pretty full table, there were men and women of all ages, children, teens and babies, young and senior ones. Among us were businessmen and bankers, teachers and academics, writers and artists, engineers and musicians. Visiting their son’s family, there was also a wonderful couple from Israel, highly respected Rabbi Dovid and Rabbanit Bella Zilbershtroms, the distinguished teacher from a notable family of a long and noble tradition. Rabbi Dovid’s input into the Shabbes evening was warm and memorable. 

As it happens at these kinds of gatherings, it was also a non-stop language carousel in a high tempo, with English, Russian and Hebrew jumping back and forth within the same phrase in an amusing flow that was perceived quite naturally by everyone. But this time, it was Yiddish that was a king-maker in languages. “Speak Yiddish, speak Yiddish, we all understand it!’ – young Rabbi Mendi was suggesting a few times, to everyone’s joy. And indeed, almost everyone knew or understood Yiddish around this big table that night in Jurmala. How come? 

Most of the people present were former Soviet Jews. Those from Switzerland, and those from Germany, those from Canada and those from France, and those from Israel and those from the US, all of them were emigres from Latvia who had left the country in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s, with some of them emigrated from Moldova and Ukraine. Those from Latvia are coming back to their native place in the summers regularly, we all love to spend some days in serene and special for many Jurmala. 

Everyone spoke a few words about themselves and their families around that Shabbat table, and the whole picture emerged in front of our eyes. It was the picture of one’s Jewish family in Soviet realities where every single Yiddish word and Jewish topic meant love and belonging. Especially pronounced loudly. Twice so publicly. 

We were lucky to have a very able chazan Telman, also an emigre to Israel, among the guests at the Shabbat evening, who adorned the atmosphere of that so nice evening with a few beautiful songs. 

The smiles of those people on recognizing the Yiddish words and speaking publicly about Jewish topics, the quiet radiance of that inner, special, devoted happiness on their faces, brought me back to my childhood. I saw the faces of my family around me, next to the guests of the Shabbat evening in Jurmala. 

I saw the generations of those Jews whose devotion to our forbidden Jewishness was inner and stern. I saw the faces of my parents, grandparents, my aunts and uncles, and their friends. Modest, nice, intelligent, talented, smart, well educated and well behaving, quiet and thoughtful, creative and able, who went through many tragedies and dramas, whose lives were never easy, but always full, whose characters were formed by all these endless challenges into having that special inner indestructible kernel of the noble Jewishness. Noble in its stern devotion to our memory and belonging. And happiness of it, especially when one can share it and celebrate it with friends. 

At the Sabbes night in Jurmala, many of the guests were not particularly religious or observant, some of them were unaware of certain customs. It was all about Jewish cultural code which is our all’ inner magnet. Under any circumstance and at any time of our history. 

In the warm summer night next to the Baltic sea and under magnificent giant full moon , many Jews from around the world did come together, celebrating our eternal family and community tradition in a truly nice way, publicly, at the central and prestigious place, enjoying respect and normality around them, a luxury for Jewish people in the world today, and being in a very nice and peaceful atmosphere.  

Many of us around the table were sharing their gratitude and relief to see the normal atmosphere in Latvia towards the Jewish people, in such a sharp contrast with daily realities nowadays in the craziness of the ongoing hostilities against anything and anyone Jewish in most of our living space on this planet. 

Jewish people who lived half of their lives in the civility of Canada, France or Switzerland were deeply grateful to find this normalcy in Latvia. Those from Germany did underline what a relief it is to be able to celebrate a Jewish holiday or just a Shabbat evening without ten or more heavily armed policemen all around the perimeter of any Jewish institution. The quiet gratitude was palpable around the Shabbat table in Jurmala. 

It was a modest, unpretentious, caring and soothing celebration of Jewishness in its most natural way. There was no need for exaltation. Everyone around the table felt at home, in a way. Everyone felt grateful and good, thanks to our very nice hosts, the both generations of the Zilberbroth and Kot families, who care about people. This is not a given knowledge. One has to like and respect people to be able to master it. And the both families of these Rabbis, whom we have a pleasure to know for a long time, do possess this essential ability and this attitude to life and people. Their warmth and interest towards everyone and anyone around their table was palpable, and it made its atmosphere so nice. 

Twenty or more times “Gut Shabbes” and ‘Shabbat Shalom’ sounded around the long and overpacked table from all those people who were speaking briefly before the next Le’Chaim. They all meant it, it was not a routine for none of the guests of that Shabbes night in Jurmala. 

It was an unexpected gift. A truly happy Shabbat, after a very long time. Almost three years soon, in a couple of months. 

August 2026. 

Jurmala, Latvia