The Shabbat Table That Changes People

Tila Falic Levi wears a lot of hats: advocate, philanthropist, community builder, mother of six, wife. She is also part of the famed Falic family, known for Duty Free Americas, the largest travel retailer in the Americas and a leading global operator of duty-free and tax-free stores, which means she grew up with a level of access most people never will.

But she was quick to correct my assumptions regarding their affluence. No sprawling estate growing up, no household staff, no sense of being someone special and entitled. Almost fifty years ago, her parents were in their twenties, building a life in a small Jewish community in Miami that was still finding its footing. Hers was the only Shabbat observant family in their social circle, so friends who wanted a Shabbat experience of their own came to her family's table for it, Jewish and not, religious and not, all finding their way to the same place.

Tila's family has hosted a sitting Prime Minister of Israel. They have hosted African diplomats, European parliamentarians, freed hostages, wounded soldiers, and bereaved families. Some Shabbats bring 60 guests. Nobody in the family bothers counting anymore.

I have always said it is not about the food on the table, it is about the moments that happen around it. I asked Tila why she does this, what she actually believes is happening at that table. She told me a story instead.

A former member of the European Parliament once sat at her Shabbat table. At some point during the meal, he began to cry. He apologized, not for anything he personally had done, but for what his own people had done to the Jewish people, generations before he was born. Then he told her he was going to bring his own children to Israel one day, to make sure that history did not repeat itself in his family.

"I see the way we change people," Tila told me. All through striving to live an authentic Jewish life.

The experience is more powerful than a persuasive argument. Nobody argued that European official into tears. He sat at a table where he was welcomed, fed, and treated like family by people his own ancestors had once persecuted, and something in him gave way that no debate could have reached.

Tila told me about another moment, one that never made it to any camera or headline. The First Lady of Israel once walked into her home, not knowing that Eli Sharabi, the freed hostage, was also seated at that same table. Sharabi has been open about his frustration with the government since his release. In another setting, that tension might have surfaced. Instead, the First Lady embraced him. He felt seen. Something between them softened, quietly, with no audience and no cameras, because a table has a way of doing what a headline cannot.

Most of us are not going to host a Prime Minister. But we can host a Shabbat table where all people are welcomed, where tension between others dissolves into an embrace, where Judaism is joyously celebrated. doing the work arguments cannot.

You don’t need 60 place settings to test this. All you need is one table, and a willingness to set an extra place for someone who does not yet obviously belong there.