The sages taught a secret about Friday night that changes the way you walk home from synagogue. Every Jew is escorted by two angels — one good, one evil — who follow him from the Beit Knesset to his front door. They are not passengers. They are witnesses.
When the man opens his door and finds the Shabbat lamps lit, the table spread with a white cloth, the beds made and the house at peace, the good angel speaks first: May the coming Sabbath be even as the present one. And the evil angel, though it costs him, is compelled to answer Amen.
But if the lamps are dark, the table bare, the house in disarray — then the evil angel speaks first, wishing the same curse on next week. And the good angel, with equal reluctance, must answer Amen.
The lesson of the Talmud (Shabbat 119b) is quiet and sharp: the angels do not choose their blessing. The house does. A Jew furnishes his own Shabbat with his own hands, and the heavens only confirm what the table has already declared.