The Awkward Moment of Not Knowing
I’ll admit it: the first time someone asked me “what time is Shabbat over?” I froze. I didn’t grow up with the rhythms of Shabbat, so I panicked and guessed—badly. Let’s just say my timing was off, and I ended up texting a friend before the candles were even out. Embarrassing? Absolutely. But it also taught me something about patience, humility, and the art of waiting.
We live in a world where everything is instant—messages, meals, even streaming shows. But Shabbat doesn’t play by those rules. It ends not when we’re ready, but when the stars come out. And that’s a lesson I didn’t know I needed.
The Rhythm of Shabbat
Shabbat begins at sundown on Friday and ends at nightfall on Saturday. But here’s the tricky part: “nightfall” isn’t a fixed clock time. Traditionally, it’s marked when three stars are visible in the sky.
In Jewish law, this is called tzeit hakochavim (the “emergence of the stars”).
Depending on where you live, Shabbat can end anywhere from 25 to 72 minutes after sunset.
Many communities follow the 72-minute rule, while others use local calendars or apps to calculate the exact time.
Did You Know? In Jerusalem, Shabbat is observed a bit longer than in many other places—72 minutes after sunset—while in New York, many communities use 50 minutes. It’s a reminder that even sacred rhythms bend to geography.
My First Mistake (and What It Taught Me)
I once rushed Shabbat’s ending because I was impatient. I had a deadline, my phone was buzzing, and I thought, “What’s a few minutes early?” But when I lit up my screen, I felt like I’d broken a spell. The quiet, the stillness—it vanished.
That moment taught me that Shabbat isn’t just about rules; it’s about protecting a fragile kind of peace. Waiting those extra minutes isn’t wasted time—it’s a gift of stillness in a noisy world.
How to Know What Time Shabbat Is Over
So, how do you avoid my mistake? Here are a few practical ways:
Check a Jewish calendar or app. Many sites like provide exact times by ZIP code.
Look to the sky. If you can see three medium-sized stars, Shabbat is over.
Follow your community’s custom. Some wait 42 minutes, others 72. The key is consistency.
Mini Q&A
Q: Why does Shabbat end with stars instead of sunset? A: Because in Jewish tradition, a new day begins at nightfall, not midnight. Stars signal the true shift.
Q: What’s Havdalah? A: It’s the short, beautiful ceremony marking Shabbat’s end, using wine, spices, and a braided candle.
Q: Can I just pick a time? A: Not exactly. Tradition emphasizes waiting until nightfall, but communities differ on the exact calculation.
The 3-Day Experiment: Practicing the Pause
If you’re not Jewish—or if you’re just curious—try this little challenge I gave myself:
Day 1: Pick one evening this week. When the sun sets, put your phone away for 30 minutes. Just notice the shift from light to dark.
Day 2: Add a ritual. Light a candle, make tea, or play calming music. Mark the transition.
Day 3: Stretch it to an hour. Let yourself feel the discomfort of waiting. Notice what thoughts come up.
I tried this and realized how much I crave distraction. But I also discovered that waiting—really waiting—creates space for reflection I didn’t know I was missing.
My Second Mistake (and the Redemption)
Another time, I forgot to check the calendar and assumed Shabbat ended earlier in summer than in winter. Wrong again. I ended up calling a friend mid-Shabbat. She laughed it off, but I felt awful.
The lesson? Respect rhythms bigger than your own. Whether it’s Shabbat, Ramadan, or even your body’s need for rest, honoring time teaches humility.
Why This Matters Beyond Shabbat
Even if you’ve never observed Shabbat, the principle is universal: life needs pauses. We can’t sprint endlessly. The world won’t collapse if we wait a little longer.
Think about it: when was the last time you let yourself really finish something before moving on? Not rushing the ending, not multitasking, just… waiting. That’s the gift Shabbat offers, whether you’re Jewish or not.
Conclusion: Learning to Wait Well
So, what time is Shabbat over? The technical answer is: when the stars appear. But the deeper answer is: when we’ve learned to honor the pause.
I started this post with my embarrassing mistake—texting too soon. Now, I see those extra minutes as sacred. They remind me that endings deserve as much care as beginnings.
What about you? Have you ever rushed an ending and missed the beauty of the pause? Share your story in the comments—I’d love to hear it.