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At time of writing, the Bibas children, Ariel and Kfir, and their mother, Shiri, have been laid to rest in Israel. I want to speak about this moment, specifically to the Catholic community in my home country of Australia. It is difficult to find the words. Let me start by saying that the Catholic Church, according to its own current teachings, affirms a profound spiritual connection with the Jewish people. Catholics readily speak of their ‘Jewish brothers and sisters’. Yet, when the unspeakable events of the October 7 massacre occurred, many Catholics found themselves paralysed in the face of the trauma engulfing their Jewish sisters and brothers. There was no united, robust public outcry from the Catholic Church. The hostages received little or no focused attention in Australian Catholic social justice circles. I have written  about these matters elsewhere. Suffice it to say here that such paralysis must not reign this time. Not for our two little brothers, Kfir and Ariel. Not for our sister, Shiri. Kfir, Ariel and Shiri Bibas were not killed as tragic, unintended casualties of war. As the now-notorious Hamas video footage shows, their captors made a conscious choice to drag these three helpless people back to Gaza as hostages. According to the forensic evidence now shared by Israel with other governments, Hamas made a choice also to brutally murder the Bibas children and mother while in captivity, following which Hamas chose to taunt hostage Yarden Bibas with the prospect of being reunited with his wife and children. As I write, the Jewish community is experiencing deep, raw, visceral pain. The re-opened wound is not only the fact of what happened to the Bibas children and their mother before and at the time of their deaths. It is also felt through the obscene depths of depravity to which their lifeless bodies have been subjected in the public spectacle of Hamas’ grotesque theatrics: a ‘hostage handover ceremony’. What kind of so-called ‘resistance’ fighters weaponize a murdered baby and four-year-old to inflict further pain on the family and nation to whom those children belong? What form of political strategy takes satisfaction in swapping the bodily remains of two dead women, further terrorising an already bereft husband? What sort of government parades the caskets of slaughtered children before an excited crowd, cameras everywhere, with upbeat music and families with young children as spectators? What damaging effect do such macabre antics have on their own Palestinian people? And on the repute of the Palestinian flag fluttering over the arena? How is it that militants in a flattened Gaza can produce a professionally printed stage backdrop using the image of the Bibas family in a shameful propaganda exercise? And, just as chilling, what kind of ‘social justice’ zealots in western countries would support an entity like Hamas or find excuses for its violent ideology? In the same demeaning ‘handover’ ceremony to which the Bibas family was subjected, Hamas included a fourth murdered soul – an elderly Israeli peace activist named Oded Lifshitz. Even United Nations officials objected.  It would be wrong for the world, including churches, to turn a blind eye to this moment when barbarism proudly flaunted its evil handiwork. So, what might be the Catholic community’s response? I will keep my expectations modest and local. Let me make the task as simple and as achievable as possible. Here is one action by which Catholics in Australia can express solidarity with their Jewish brothers and sisters in these days of extreme grief. Wrap your love and prayers around the Bibas family by intentionally bringing into your day something of the colour orange. An orange flower. An orange fruit. An orange candle. An orange T-shirt or scarf or tie. A balloon. Whatever. Let it be orange – the colour that came to symbolise the Bibas children, both being redheads, as their families, over 16 months, hoped and prayed and advocated for their release. Let the colour orange signify among Catholics prayerful remembrance of these two small Jewish children, their mother and their surviving father. Let it stand for humanity, in the face of inhumanity. It’s the tiniest gesture. Ridiculously understated. It will change nothing for the remaining 59 hostages in Gaza. It won’t usher in world peace. And it can’t bring back the Bibas children, nor any of the thousands of Palestinian children under Hamas’ rule who have perished in the war in Gaza. Yet perhaps it will create that tiny spark of movement, of momentum, that can disrupt paralysis and break through silence. It’s better than staying stuck. It’s something, not nothing. Bring orange into your day, into your Lenten practice, and let it be a visual symbol that the Catholic community does care, grieve, and pray for Kfir, Ariel and Shiri, their little Jewish brothers, their Jewish sister. May they rest in peace.  Teresa Pirola, ThD, is a Sydney-based freelance writer and faith educator, and author of “ October 7: A Response to the 2023 October 7 Massacre in Israel and Surging Antisemitism in Australia ”.

After the revelation at Sinai, the Book of Exodus turns its attention to the spiritual welfare of the Israelites during their desert trek to the promised land. This requires elaborate plans for the building of a mobile sanctuary, known in English as the ‘tabernacle.’ Looking closely at Exodus 25:1-9, verse 8 stands out: “And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them” (Exodus 25:8). Abravanel, a Spanish-Jewish Torah commentator of the 15th century, poses a question that has resonated through centuries of Jewish Torah study: “Why did the Almighty command us regarding the construction of the tabernacle saying, ‘I shall dwell among them,’ as if He were a circumscribed corporeal being limited in space when this is the opposite of the truth?” How would you answer? Why would the Creator of all things, who cannot be contained by time and space, request a holy dwelling place with specific measurements and fixtures? Abravanel replies by saying that the last thing that the Almighty wanted was for the people to think that they had been forsaken, that God’s throne was in heaven and remote from humankind. To combat this erroneous belief  “He commanded them to make a Tabernacle, as if to imply that he dwelt in their midst, that they should believe that God lived in their midst and His Providence was forever with them.”  Thus the divine purpose for the tabernacle is “to implant in their souls that God walked in the midst of their camp.” To accentuate this divine desire to be close to God’s people, Abravanel quotes from the love poetry of the Hebrew Scriptures: “There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the window, peering through the lattice” (Song of Songs 2:9). But perhaps you already gleaned this insight from your own careful reading of Exodus 25:8. Did you ponder the words “that I may dwell among them” ? The tabernacle is not designed to ‘contain’ God, but rather to reassure the people of the closeness of their Creator and Redeemer throughout their earthly lives. Knowledge of the Hebrew text can enrich our reflection. The verb ‘to dwell’ used in 25:8 [from whose root also comes the Hebrew word mishkan , ‘tabernacle’] conveys the idea of a temporary lodging, a tent characteristic of a nomadic lifestyle. Thus the sanctuary or tabernacle is not at all like the fixed stone temples ‘housing’ pagan gods. Rather, it is a dwelling that is accessible and flexible enough to move with the camp of the Israelites on their wilderness journey. It is not literally God’s abode; rather, it gives the Israelites a tangible reference point as they reach for divine guidance and seek to orientate their minds and hearts to the divine presence. In the Midrash (Jewish storytelling traditions) we read: God said to Israel, “Make me a dwelling (Exodus 25:8; 26:1), for I desire to dwell amid my children.” When the ministering angels heard this, they said to God, “Why will you abandon the creatures above, and descend to those below? It is your glory that you should be in heaven.” But God said, “See how greatly I love the creatures below that I shall descend and dwell beneath the goats’ hair.” Hence it says: “Make curtains of goats’ hair for the Tabernacle” (Exod. 26:7).  [Tanh.B., Terumah, 47b] As you enter into your Torah reflection, notice how it enriches and challenges your Christian faith and your appreciation of the Christian use of the term ‘tabernacle’. • Bibliography: Leibowitz,  New Studies in Shemot  (Jerusalem, 1996); Montefiore & Loewe, eds., A Rabbinic Anthology  (New York, 1974); Sarna,  JPS Torah Commentary (Jerusalem/New York, 1991). Scripture: NJPS. Image: Sunrise over desert wilderness; Shutterstock, via Wix. © Teresa Pirola, 2012 . lightoftorah.net   Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of the Light of Torah website. Light of Torah is a Sydney-based grassroots work, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights . More...   T he reflection above refers to Parashat Terumah (Exodus 25:1 - 27:19), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom ! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

“The Old Testament and the Jewish tradition must not be set against the New Testament in such a way that the former seems to constitute a religion of only justice, fear and legalism, with no appeal to the love of God and neighbour (cf: Dt. 6:5; Lv. 19:18; Mt. 22:34-40).” — Commission of the Holy See for Religious Relations with the Jews, 1974 A regrettable tendency in the history of Christian catechesis (and still present) has been to contrast the so-called ‘legalism' of Judaism with the love of Jesus. In fact, Jews have been no more guilty of legalism than Christians! All religions are susceptible to legalistic distortions, even as they strive to be instruments of mercy and justice. Fortunately, much work has been done by scholars and educators in recent decades to alert Christians to the fact that their faith finds its very roots in the beliefs, ethics and rituals of the Jewish people. Jesus was a Jew who lived and breathed the Jewish Scriptures (Torah). Here, we explore one brief excerpt from an ancient legal text through the eyes of Jewish interpreters. It is from Exodus 22. Right after the Ten Commandments are uttered on Mount Sinai, a further code of conduct is given in the form of a list of judicial rulings. The rule within our focus deals with lending money to a person in need. “If you lend money to my people, to the poor among you, you shall not deal with them as a creditor...”  (Exodus 22:25, NRSV) See too Everett Fox’s translation: “If you lend money to my people, to the afflicted one (who lives) beside you...” In Jewish tradition the sages puzzle over the curious wording of this verse. They wonder why not use a simpler, direct phrase: If you lend money to the poor...?   Why the addition of ‘my people’ and ‘among you/beside you’? The sages detect in this wording three parallel objects: (i) My people; i.e. the people of Israel; (ii) the poor person, and (iii) the person who is ‘among’ you, near to you.  From this analysis a great moral discussion is opened up: the problem of how to prioritize the giving of charity. When my finite resources can never reach everyone in need, how do I choose where to focus those resources? When I am confronted by suffering both near and far, among those in my intimate circle as well as those in the global human family, do relational factors affect my choices? Share something of your experience of this dilemma and your insights based on this Torah verse. A great moral discussion is opened up: When my finite resources can never reach everyone in need, how do I choose where to focus those resources? The sages are in no doubt that the Torah teaches the obligation of charity for the non-Jew, the stranger, the orphan. Yet they also interpret the Law as saying that the more intimate connections come first. As the Midrash puts it: The poor man in the market and the one in your street—your street comes first. A poor kinsman and a poor fellow-townsman, your kinsman comes first. ‘The poor man with you’—that poor who is with you and of you.1 According to the sages the vision held out by the Torah is not an impersonal mass distribution of charity, but an outreach based on an ever-widening of the familial circle. Thus the world is ultimately healed of poverty and suffering not by material aid alone but by ripples of intimacy emanating from our hearts and homes. We start with ‘our own children’ and from there reach out to include ‘other children’ as our own. This kind of loving will eventually embrace the whole human family, ensuring that we treat each person as a brother or sister, as one ‘who is with you/beside you’ and not simply the object of charity. A single Torah verse contains a great storehouse of ethical principle. Continue to discuss the ethical principle and dilemma raised by this text. 1. Tanhuma Yashan, Mishpatim Bibliography: Herczeg, ed., Rashi: Commentary on the Torah (New York, 1999); Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot  (New York, 1996). © Teresa Pirola, 2012. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Light of Torah is a Sydney-based grassroots work, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights . More...   T he reflection above refers to Parashat Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1 - 24:28), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom ! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

This week we explore afresh a passage which is lodged in many minds as the ‘Ten Commandments’ (Exodus 20:1-17). Actually, the Hebrew word for ‘commandment’ ( mitzvah ) is not used here. A more accurate translation would be ‘Ten Words.’ Translated into Greek, this becomes deka logoi  which in English becomes ‘Decalogue.’ Read the Decalogue in Exodus 20:1-17. Read also the scenes which introduce and conclude the Decalogue: 19:18-25 and 20:18-21. Note the drama that surrounds these ‘Ten Words’... a smoking, trembling Mount Sinai afire with the Lord’s presence... thunder and lightning... a blaring horn... awestruck people held at a safe distance as the prophet Moses goes forward to meet God... We are left in no doubt that the utterances are those of the all-powerful God of Israel! This is theophany. God’s self-revelation take place. “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery” (Exodus 20:2). Much discussion has taken place among Jewish commentators as to whether verse 2 constitutes a commandment in itself or is simply an introductory phrase. It is certainly a power-packed statement. Before any directive about what we ought do, it tells us what God has done for his people. Says Benno Jacob:[1] “By anokhi  [‘I am’] he referred to the person of God. He was not an impersonal idea one speaks about or believes in but the living God directing his ‘I’ to the ‘Thou’.”  Ponder the meaning of verse 2 and its relationship to all the commandments that follow. What thoughts and insights emerge? Verse 2 makes clear that the Decalogue is situated in the memory of the Exodus event. As Christian scholar Walter Brueggemann puts it, “The God who commands is the God who delivers.”2 This list of rules cannot be reduced to a simple transfer of power from one monarch (Pharaoh) to another (God). Rather, it signifies a complete overturn of the previous social order in Egypt for a radically new order based on the Lord God’s care for his people. Liberation from Egypt is not a one-off event, but the beginning of a way of life. This lifestyle is grounded in the living God who is beyond any possibility of exploitation by a humanly devised system or image. It ensures exodus-like social relationships where life, personal dignity and property are protected, and so it is concerned for the most vulnerable in society. It includes the gift of sabbath rest, in sharp contrast to Pharaoh’s regime of frenetic production and consumption. In just 17 verses, God outlines a communal vision by which divine revelation is incarnated in history and becomes recognizable by others. Reflection Who taught you the ‘Ten Commandments’? In what way has your understanding of them matured during your life? What insight do you take from today’s discussion, and how can it help you to live your life as a person of faith?   1. German-Jewish Bible scholar (d. 1955). See Leibowitz, 307. 2. Theology of the Old Testament , 184. Bibliography: Brueggemann, Theology of the Old Testament (Minneapolis, 1997); Larsson, Bound for Freedom (Mass., 1999); Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot (New York, 1996); Sarna, ed., JPS Torah Commentary  (Philadelphia, 1991). Scripture: NRSV.   © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net . Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of the Light of Torah website. Light of Torah is a Sydney-based grassroots work, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights . More...   T he reflection above refers to Parashat Yitro (Exodus 18:1 - 20:23), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom ! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

How well do you know the bible story of the ten plagues in the Book of Exodus? If you were asked, “Who is the main protagonist in the story, who is acting with the Almighty to bring about the plagues?”, who would you name? Moses? Surely it was Moses! Yet a careful reading of the bible text tells us that the first three plagues were in fact enacted by Aaron, at the Lord’s instruction through Moses. Let’s read aloud: The plague of blood: The Lord said to Moses, ‘ Say to Aaron , “Take your staff and stretch out your hand over the waters of Egypt—over its rivers, its canals, and its ponds, and all its pools of water—so that they may become blood”’ (Exodus 7:19). Similarly, in 8:5 in the plague of the frogs: And the Lord said to Moses, ‘ Say to Aaron , “Stretch out your hand with your staff over the rivers, the canals, and the pools, and make frogs come up on the land of Egypt.”’ And in 8.14, the plague of lice: Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘ Say to Aaron , “Stretch out your staff and strike the dust of the earth, so that it may become gnats throughout the whole land of Egypt.”’ Is your curiosity piqued? Why is Aaron told to take action in these three plagues and not the others? Ponder the question, the sacred text, and propose an interpretation from your knowledge of scripture. Discuss and debate its merits with your havrutah partner (Torah-study partner) before reading on to hear the response of Rashi, the great 11th-century Torah scholar. [1] Rashi discerns that Moses had a particular affinity with the Nile (containing the waters and frogs) and with the soil (‘dust of the earth’), an affinity that the Lord respected and therefore refrained from asking Moses to raise his hand against these natural elements. In Rashi’s words: “Because the river protected Moses when he was cast into it, therefore it was not smitten through his hand, neither at the plague of blood nor at the plague of frogs.” And “the soil did not deserve to be stricken by Moses, because it protected him when he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. [Therefore,] it was stricken by Aaron.” In Jewish tradition, the ethical lesson drawn from this interpretation focuses not so much on the dust and water and frogs as deserving protection, but rather on the dignity of human life. If the Lord commands that even dust and water and frogs are worthy of protection and have a special relationship with human beings and their stories, then how much more precious is human life; how much more worthy are human beings of respect and protection, made as they are in the image of their Creator. Reflection : Ponder the Lord G-d as Creator and Redeemer in the light of the stories of the plagues. Discuss the delicate interconnections of all creation, and especially the value we place on human life. In my own life’s story, do I discern a personal affinity for an aspect of the natural environment? If I were in Moses' shoes, which plague might God have spared me from active involvement? : ) Treasure and enjoy your engagement with G-d's word! Notes : [1] With thanks to Rabbi Gad Krebs for drawing my attention to Rashi's interpretation on this point. Quotations from Rashi's commentary are taken from the Artscroll series, pp. 70, 76. See bibliography. Bibliography : Podcast by Rabbi Gad Krebs, ‘Vaera: The Power of Gratitude’. Moriah Parsha Perspectives (Sydney, 2025) Herczeg et al, eds. The Torah. With Rashi’s Commentary. Shemos/Exodus. Artscroll Series, The Sapirstein Edition (New York: Mesorah Publications, 1995, 1999). Scripture: NRSV © Teresa Pirola, 2025 . lightoftorah.net . Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of the Light of Torah website. Light of Torah is a Sydney-based grassroots work, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights . More...   T he reflection above refers to Parashat Vaera (Exodus 6:2 - 9:35), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom ! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

"Afterward Moses and Aaron went and said to Pharaoh…" (Exodus 5:1). As we commence the Book of Exodus, our verse for close attention depicts Moses and Aaron approaching the powerful king of Egypt, with the daunting task of gaining the freedom of their enslaved people. In the interpretive traditions of Judaism, we find the sages puzzling over a subtle aspect of this verse [1]. Can you pick it? It helps if we know the back story, especially the task given to Moses at the burning bush: “Go and assemble the elders of Israel and say to them: ‘[The Lord], the God of your ancestors…has appeared to me and said…I will take you out of the misery of Egypt…to a land flowing with milk and honey. They will listen to you; then you shall go with the elders of Israel to the king of Egypt, and you shall say to him…” (Exodus 3:16-18) Moses is told to return to Egypt as a central actor in the divine plan to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. But Moses is not meant to act alone. He has his brother Aaron as a spokesperson, and together they are to galvanise the support of the elders. The brothers do this, and they receive a fair hearing. This is how Scripture recounts their efforts: Then Moses and Aaron went and assembled all the elders of the Israelites. Aaron repeated all the words that [the Lord] had spoken to Moses, and he performed the signs in the sight of the people, and the people were convinced. When they heard that [the Lord] had taken note of the Israelites and that [God] had seen their plight, they bowed low in homage. (Exodus 4:29-31) It would appear that Moses and Aaron have gained the respect and support of the elders. Realising that the unfolding drama is of divine initiative, “they bowed low in homage”. Presumably, the elders are ready to obey the Lord, ready to unite with Moses and confront the king of Egypt. Pharaoh, here we come! And yet, when Moses and Aaron actually reach Pharaoh, we sense that something is amiss. The text speaks only of Moses and Aaron going to Pharaoh (see 5:1). Where are the elders? Did you notice the omission? What do you make of it? Jewish commentators are divided in their opinion. Some argue that the elders were present, just not mentioned in the text. However, in the Midrash (Jewish storytelling traditions) we find a different view: “Where had the elders gone? … The elders did indeed go with them, but stole away furtively, singly or in pairs, so that by the time they reached palace of Pharaoh, not one of them was there. Hence does it say, ‘And afterwards Moses and Aaron came’. [2] The great 11th century Torah scholar known as Rashi concurs: But the elders slipped away one by one from behind Moses and Aaron, until all of them had slipped away before they arrived at the palace, because they were afraid to go to Pharaoh. [3] What are we to make of this interpretation? It is an example of how profoundly in touch is the Torah (Scripture) with human experience, says Nehama Leibowitz, an esteemed Torah teacher of 20th century Israel. What we have here, says Leibowitz, is an ancient insight into the ever-present reality of human frailty. How often do we see people become all fired up about a noble cause, only to lack the courage and resolve to tackle it in practice and to see it through. What seems right and exciting in the heat of the moment at a public meeting can seem terrifyingly impossible in the cold light of the next day when commitment and action are demanded. [4] Thus does this Torah passage beckon to our attentive reading and critical thinking, while also touching a nerve in our human experience. By omitting ‘the elders’ in the critical scene of the arrival of Moses and Aaron at the epicentre of Egyptian power, the Torah leads us to reflect on the contrast between human weakness (the elders pulling back) and courageous fidelity (Moses and Aaron pushing forward), between the fickleness of a crowd and the ‘power of one’ (or, in this case, two). From here, it will be up to these two brothers, servants of the Lord, to speak truth to power. What is your reaction to this interpretive line of thought? Do you agree? Have you a different interpretation to suggest? Explain how you support your view from a close reading of the sacred text. Continue to ponder the story. Enjoy the thrill of Torah study, ideally sharing the process with a study partner who will challenge and stretch you. *** Notes: [1] For a discussion of a range of opinions in Jewish tradition, see Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot , pp. 83-88. [2] Midrash Rabbah , Vol III (Soncino Press, 1983), p.93 [3] Rashi: Commentary on the Torah/Exodus,  by Herczeg et al (Mesorah Publications, 1995), pp. 41-42. Rashi goes on to say that the elders’ abandonment is the reason that, in a later chapter, at the giving of the Law at Mt Sinai, only Moses is afforded the privilege of approaching, while the seventy elders are not to approach and are sent back by God. But that is for another discussion with its own set of complexities. [4] See Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot , pp. 87-88   Bibliography: Nehama Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot/Exodus  (New York: Lambda Publishers, 1996); ArtScroll Sapirstein Edition of Rashi: Commentary on the Torah/Exodus,  by Herczeg et al (Mesorah Publications, 1995); Midrash Rabbah/Exodus , edited by H. Freeman and M Simon (London/New York: The Soncino Press, 1983); Scripture: JPS.   © Teresa Pirola, 2024.   lightoftorah.net    Reproduction permitted for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website. Light of Torah is a Sydney-based grassroots work, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights . More...   T he reflection above refers to Parashat Shemot (Exodus 1:1 - 6:1), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom ! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

As our Torah portion opens, Jacob has been 17 years in Egypt. His longing for his homeland is unmistakable. His longings reflect not only individual preference, but the movement of faith and his membership among a people. Further, he puts his desires into word and active example by the way he speaks to Joseph and makes arrangements for his burial in Canaan. Familiarise yourself with this Torah portion, then closely read these nine verses: Genesis 47:27—48:4. And Jacob said to Joseph, “God Almighty appeared to me at Luz in the the land of Canaan, and he blessed me, and he said to me, ‘I am going to make you fruitful and increase your numbers; I will make of you a company of peoples, and I will give this land to your offspring after you for a perpetual holding’” (Genesis 48:3-4). Torah commentators note that Jacob is repeating God’s words, but he is not repeating them exactly. Compare Jacob’s words of blessing with God’s ‘original’ blessing in Genesis 35:11-12. What does Jacob leave out? What does he add? (Hint: create two columns and compare line by line.) What might the sacred text be communicating through any omission or addition? Creatively ponder this with the Jewish sages in the context of what you know about Jacob’s story. Suggest an interpretation. In a previous discussion of Genesis, we focused on Jacob’s fear that his family’s temporary descent into Egypt might result in them never returning to their God-given homeland. The Torah tells us that, 17 years after they entered Egypt, Jacob’s children and grandchildren are doing rather well in this alien land; for “they gained possessions in it, and were fruitful and multiplied exceedingly” (47:27). Does this observation assist your reflection on how Jacob ‘edits’ God’s blessing? Can you appreciate the dilemma? If Jacob’s descendants are so comfortable in Egypt, will they want to uproot their lives and return to Canaan? And if they don’t, what will become of the promises and blessings of God which are bound up with the gift of a specific land? In this text, some Torah commentators see Jacob—now an elderly man and close to death—doing all he can to steer his children towards honoring their unique inheritance. Not only does he set an example by insisting that he be buried in Canaan (see 47:29-31), he also deletes the line where God says “kings will spring from you” (25:11) lest his children associate royalty with Egypt where Joseph has already achieved royal-like status. Instead Jacob emphasizes that the land of Canaan should be their constant focus by adding the phrase “for a perpetual holding” (Genesis 48:4). Thus Jacob, a great patriarch, ends his days firmly fixed on the promises of God, on the relationship between God and God’s people. No gain in power or wealth can compare with the riches of knowing the Lord God and being faithful to the divine call. As you ponder and discuss this Torah portion, ask yourself: in what way does it speak to my hopes and dreams, yearnings and fears as a believer and as a member of my faith community? • Bibliography: Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit (New York: Lambda, 1994). Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net Reproduction permitted for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website. Torah Portion of the Week: Vayechi. Download the PDF version . Light of Torah is a Sydney-based grassroots work, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More...   The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayechi (Genesis 47:28 - 50:26), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom ! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

'I am Joseph your brother, whom you sold to Egypt' (Genesis 45:4). With these words, Joseph reveals his true identity to his estranged brothers. They have been apart for so long, ever since Joseph was betrayed by them and sold into slavery. But now the tables have turned… Joseph is the powerful one, having found a place of favour in Egypt’s royal court. Yet, as we see in this part of the story, Joseph’s memory of his family and Hebrew roots runs deep. Read through the whole of this reconciliation scene in 44:18-45:15. Read it again, and aloud, with a friend. Place yourself in the drama of the narrative and the emotion of the characters. What stands out for each of you? How does God’s word speak to the searchings of your minds, to the movement of your hearts? As you ponder, let’s hear from some of the revered commentators of Jewish tradition... what do the Jewish sages of old find noteworthy in the text? The sages were fascinated by Judah’s speech just prior to Joseph’s self-disclosure: 'My Lord, please give your servant a hearing and do not let your anger flare up at your servant—for you are like Pharaoh' (44:18). How do you understand Judah’s words? Is he saying ‘You are merciful like Pharaoh’? or ‘You are cruel like Pharaoh’? Is Judah being politically wise, or risking foolhardy insolence? He certainly knows how to pull Joseph’s heartstrings by mentioning their aged, grief-stricken father. The sages present a variety of views ranging from Judah’s absolute sincerity to his ability to gain the upper hand over Joseph. How do you view Judah’s approach to Joseph? Note, too, the irony that Judah should beg to replace Benjamin as a slave to Joseph. Judah, who was the principal architect of the sale of Joseph into slavery, now proposes that he become Joseph’s slave! In the face of Joseph’s revelation, his brothers are dumbfounded. ' They were unable to answer him—they recoiled in fear of him' (45:3). A number of the sages remark on Joseph’s display of compassion. Rashi,[1] for instance, says that Joseph cries ' Send everyone away from me!' because he could not bear having the Egyptians there, witnessing the humiliation of his brothers when his true identity was revealed. Says Rashi, Joseph calls his brothers to ' Come, draw near to me!' (45.4) so as to speak to them gently, in Hebrew no less, and to prove his identity by showing that he is circumcised. A striking aspect of this scene is Joseph’s willingness to forgive, even reassuring his brothers that the episode of their mistreatment of him was the work of God who directs all human destiny. 'For it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you' (45.5). It takes maturity to exhibit such confidence in divine providence. It appears that Joseph’s past, filled with tragic events, has shaped him into a man of steadfast confidence. Do you agree? 'I am Joseph your brother' (45:4) is a phrase that holds meaning for interreligious dialogue today. At an historic meeting between Pope John XXIII and Jewish leaders on the eve of the Second Vatican Council, Pope John (whose Christian name was Giuseppe, ‘Joseph’) opened his address with the words 'I am Joseph your brother,' marking a new era of reconciliation for Catholic-Jewish relations. Continue to discuss this Torah portion, seeking insights into the process of reconciliation. 1. Rashi: 11th century Torah commentator. Bibliography: Goldstein, ed., The Women’s Torah Commentary (Woodstock, 2000); Munk, The Call of the Torah (New York, 1994); Vatican II, Declaration of the Relationship of the Church to Non-Christian Religions, ' Nostra Aetate' (1965); 'I am Joseph Your Brother' (Jerusalem: ICCI and ICJS, 2001). © Teresa Pirola, 2012. lightoftorah.net Reproduction permitted for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version . Light of Torah is a Sydney-based grassroots work, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayigash (Genesis 44:18 - 47:27), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom ! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

"Let Pharaoh now select a man who is discerning and wise and set him over the land of Egypt…" (Genesis 41:33). The sages detect a curious development in chapter 41 of Genesis where Joseph is brought before Pharaoh to interpret the ruler’s dreams. Can you pick it? Read chapter 41 of Genesis for yourself, and ponder the sacred text, ideally with a Torah-study partner. Yes, Joseph interprets the dream, as commanded. But then he takes a further step, an extremely bold one, that was not part of his summons to appear before Pharaoh. Joseph launches into concrete advice as to how Pharaoh should prepare for, and ultimately survive, the devastating famine that is about to hit Egypt, as symbolically foretold in Pharaoh’s dream. In Jewish tradition, we find the sages noting the inappropriateness and danger of this unsolicited act of giving advice, especially for one who, a short time ago, was holed up in the palace dungeon, imprisoned for being (unjustly) accused of advances towards Pharaoh’s wife! What on earth was Joseph thinking, wonder the sages. Having already narrowly escaped with his life, why would he think it to be a good idea to be so pertinent as to tell Pharaoh, the most powerful man in Egypt, what to do? And where did he find the nerve to do it? [1] As always, there are differing opinions in Jewish tradition. One aspect of the debate revolves around the question as to whether it was actually advice that Joseph offered. The Ramban [2] argues that Joseph was not giving advice, he was simply continuing the interpretation of the dream, an act which, in this context, would have been acceptable to Pharaoh. Do you agree? (Re-read the text carefully.) Not all Torah commentators do. As if responding to the weakness in his own argument, Ramban also offers this surprising, and somewhat jarring, opinion: Joseph was deliberately promoting himself. He was setting up a situation whereby he would appear to Pharaoh as ‘the best man for the job’, and hence rise to power in Egypt. The problem with this view is that it contradicts everything we know about Joseph’s behaviour since his arrival in Egypt. Far from being opportunistic, he is the epitome of selflessness and humility, upholding the authority of the Creator above all else. Pharaoh himself responds favourably to this quality in Joseph (“Is there anyone like this… with the spirit of God in him?” 41:38). In Jewish tradition, there is also found the creative interpretation of the Midreshei Torah [3] which points to Pharaoh’s repeated statement to Joseph (40-41): “You shall be in charge…” “Observe, I have placed you in charge of the entire land of Egypt” and suggests that Pharaoh had to repeat himself due to Joseph’s utter surprise and disbelief that he would find himself promoted to such a lofty station in the Egyptian kingdom! What, then, is a more plausible interpretation of Joseph’s boldness in giving unsolicited advice to Pharaoh? Abravanel [4] offers this: “The advice was prompted from beginning to end by the Holy Spirit. The prophet cannot keep back his prophecy and must unburden himself. Cf. Jeremiah 20:9.” In this view, Joseph is neither impertinent nor sets out to be brave; he is simply faithful. His advice to Pharaoh is best read as fidelity to the word of God and willingness to be propelled by its insistent, lifegiving power. What do you think of Abravanel’s solution, and the other interpretations found in Jewish tradition? Contribute your own searching questions and creative reflections with a close reading of the sacred text. Enter the Torah dance! *****   This Light of Torah reflection is guided by the work of Nehama Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit  (New York: Lambda, npd) 443-450.  Leibowitz was a great Torah teacher in 20th-century Israel. Ramban: Rabbi Moshe ben Nahman or Nahmanides (1194-1270), a leading philosopher, physician, Torah commentator and kabbalist (mystical interpreter) in medieval Spain. A commentary by Rabbi Anselm Solomon Astruc, thought to be a victim of a Christian pogrom in Barcelona, 1391. Abravanel Don Isaac (1437-1508). Spanish-Jewish Torah commentator, philosopher and statesman. Suffered expulsion in 1492 along with tens of thousands of other Jews.   Bibliography: Nehama Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit  (New York: Lambda, npd) 443-450. Scripture translation by Rabbi Chaim Stern (1999) in Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Andrea L. Weiss, eds., The Torah. A Women’s Commentary  (New York: URJ Press and WRJ, 2008). © Teresa Pirola, 2024. lightoftorah.net    This article may be reproduced for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website.   L ight of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. The reflection above refers to Parashat Mikeitz (Genesis 41:1 - 44:17), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

In December both Christians and Jews hold candle-lighting rituals.  Christian families light the Advent wreath candles on the Sundays leading to Christmas, while Jewish families light a candle for each of the eight days of Hanukkah . This year, 2024, in a rare calendar event, the commencement of Hanukkah coincides with Christmas night on 25 December. Can this coincidence of the Christian and Jewish liturgical cycles point us towards a deeper unity as Christians and Jews? One very practical suggestion offered at an Australian gathering of Christians and Jews, is that Christian homes light a candle and place it in the window on Christmas night, as Jewish homes begin their Hanukkah festivities. This would be a visible and public symbol of Christian solidarity with the Jewish community; a shared commitment to unity, hope and light in the face of the darkness of antisemitism. Let’s delve further into the custom of candle-lighting. Christians are familiar with Advent and Christmas candles. But why do Jews light candles at Hanukkah? Hanukkah means ‘dedication.’ This festival takes us back to the 2nd century BCE and recalls the re-dedication of the Jerusalem temple following the Maccabean uprising. The books of 1 & 2 Maccabees  tell this story as the persecution of the Jewish population: forced conversions, brutal punishments, and defilement of the temple as a powerful Greek Hellenistic culture threatened to suppress Judaism. The text includes the gripping tales of Maccabean resistance and heroic martyrs, such as a Jewish mother and her seven sons who accepted torture and death rather than renounce the religious practices of their ancestors (2 Maccabees 7). According to rabbinic tradition, when the Maccabeans reclaimed the temple and lit the temple menorah (lamp stand), a miracle occurred: amidst the ruins they could find only a small quantity of pure oil, enough for one day of light, yet the menorah stayed alight for eight days. In the miracle of the cruse of oil, commentators note the courage of the Jews to attempt to light the menorah in the first place. Why bother when it seemed that the oil would not last beyond a day? The act of lamp-lighting indicates resilient hope and persistent faith. In Hanukkah there is much to inspire Christians. Christians might ponder the idea that were it not for the reality that Hanukkah represents, had not the Jewish people prevailed time and again in history in the face of forces bent on their destruction, there would be no Jewish communities to carry on the traditions of their faith, to be a light to the nations. There would be no child Jesus born and raised in the teachings of the Torah. There would be no Christmas. The nearness of a Jewish festival to Christmas can remind Christians that the little family in Bethlehem 2,000 years ago were faithful Jews who celebrated the festivals of their tradition according to the customs of their day. Each in its unique way, Advent and Hanukkah engender a spirit of renewal. Remembering the re-dedication of the ancient temple, Jews today approach Hanukkah as a time for spiritual re-dedication of their lives. Meanwhile, Christians prepare their hearts to celebrate Christmas in accordance with their own sacred traditions. For Catholics, Jewish-Christian reconciliation was a key teaching at the Second Vatican Council, a teaching taken up by other mainstream Churches too. The coinciding dates of Hanukkah and Christmas candle-lighting customs in the respective calendars of two different religious traditions affords an opportunity for Christians to show solidarity with Jewish friends, as the first Hanukkah candle is lit on the evening of 25 December 2024. Together, may we spread light and hope and be a blessing for the world. © Teresa Pirola, 2021, 2024. lightoftorah.net   This article may be reproduced for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights.

“Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed” (Genesis 32:29). In the book of Genesis we find the story of Jacob’s wrestling match with a mysterious man. This is a minefield of symbols to be interpreted humanly and religiously. To comprehend the text we need to view it in the context of the story of Jacob’s reunion with his brother Esau. Jacob, together with his household, is heading home after a twenty year sojourn outside the land of Canaan. Along the way he learns that his brother Esau, together with 400 men, is coming to meet him. Fearful that Esau still harbours murderous rage over a long-ago conflict, Jacob prepares for the worst (Gen. 32:4-22). The night before the two brothers meet, Jacob wrestles with a mysterious figure, thought to be a divine representative (Gen. 32:23-33). And what happens the next day? “Esau ran to greet him. He embraced him...he kissed him; and they wept” (Genesis 33:4). Esau’s reaction is startling. Last time they were together Esau was out to kill Jacob. Now he shows nothing but love toward his brother who deceived him all those years ago (Gen. 27). Could the events of the night before have had something to do with this dramatic change of heart? Jewish interpreters [1] certainly think so, in some cases viewing Jacob’s wrestling partner to be ‘the ministering angel of Esau.’ Before Jacob is ready to meet Esau in the flesh, he has to undergo a spiritual confrontation. There are multiple ways to approach this text. One way is to explore it from a psychological angle. Thus, Jacob is seen to be wrestling with his personal history, anxieties, guilt. The blessing he grasps is the blessing of having endured a crisis, of having confronted his inner demons and matured in the process. In this view, Jacob emerges a new person: free from fear, at peace with himself and those around him. Esau senses this, it disarms him, and reconciliation is possible. Does this interpretation speak to you? Was there a time when you wrestled amidst crisis, ‘alone’, ‘in the night’ and came through a stronger, wiser, more mature person? There is another current in Jewish interpretation: one that relates Jacob’s ordeal to the struggle of the Jewish people in coming to terms with the fact of their election by God. After all, wouldn’t it be easier to fit in with society; to not be identified by circumcision, Shabbat or dietary practices? It would certainly have saved centuries of persecution, sorrow. Yet struggle is part of fidelity. To live the Torah means to strive for the ways of God; not settling for moral mediocrity nor despairing of the possibility of a transformed earth. Yes, it entails wounds that at times produce a limp. But it also holds the priceless blessing and responsibility of belonging to God and God's people. Certainly, Jacob’s story draws us to be attentive to the fact that throughout their history the Jewish people have had to struggle against extraordinary odds, and have prevailed, time and again, to grasp anew the irrevocable blessing of their identity. (These words are not intended to romanticise the idea of fidelity through struggle, which has entailed a terrible cost to Jewish lives.) Amid the political complexities of our own time, there are those who are quick to judge the Jewish people on account of certain government policies of the modern state of Israel, rather than making appropriate distinctions between the two. Yet “Israel”,[2] whether understood as a nation state or as a covenantal people, produces plenty of its own critics and prophets from within, and this too forms part of its struggle for self-determination. It is important for Christians to ponder the biblical moment in the book of Genesis when God’s choice of Abraham finds new expression in and through Jacob's struggle. It is vital for understanding Judaism, Jesus and Christians' own call to ‘be’ church—not replacing God’s covenant with the Jewish people which endures eternally, but rather learning from its truth. As St Pope John Paul II said on his visit to Sydney (26 November 1986): “For the Jewish people themselves, Catholics should have not only respect but also great fraternal love; for it is the teaching of both the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures that the Jews are beloved of God who has called them with an irrevocable calling.” • 1. Sources: Herczeg, ed., The Torah: With Rashi’s Commentary (New York, 1999); Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit (New York, 1994); Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary (New York, 2006); Sacks, Covenant & Conversation (Jerusalem, 2009). Scripture: NJPS. 2. The term "Israel" has multiple meanings. It can refer to the biblical land; the name given to the patriarch Jacob or to one of the twelve tribes issuing from his progeny; the political nation state named Israel (either in its ancient or modern context). “Israel” is also a theological reference to the Jewish people, from their origins in history to their ultimate destiny in accord with God’s designs. © Teresa Pirola, 2011. lightoftorah.net This article may be reproduced for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version . Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayishlach (Genesis 32:4 - 36:43), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom ! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

On this day, 6 December 2024, the anniversary of William Cooper's courageous protest in the wake of Kristallnacht in 1938, and as a synagogue is burnt to the ground in Melbourne overnight, we are urged to take 5 minutes to listen to a short video message from Professor Marcia Langton AO. (Courtesy National Council of Jewish Women Australia) Professor Langton describes the relationship between Jewish and First Nations people in Australia and warns against the exploitation of the First Nations cause and flag by activists who undermine that important relationship and who feed the antisemitic forces at work in our country. Background note: On 6 December 1938, just weeks after Kristallnacht (the Nazi-sponsored pogrom that targeted Jews in Europe, where synagogues and Torah scrolls went up in flames, and many Jews were killed or deported) an inspirational Aboriginal leader in Melbourne, William Cooper, led a march to the German consulate in Melbourne to protest the, "cruel persecution of the Jewish people by the Nazi government in Germany" ( Learn more .) His actions had no impact on Hitler's regime. Yet, he did the right thing. He spoke up, and helped others to do the same. William Cooper, a Yorta Yorta man and a Christian, continues to inspire First Nations people, Christians and all people of faith and goodwill to be vocal and active in standing in solidarity with Jewish communities as antisemitism surges in Australia and around the world.