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" Now Isaac was coming from the approach to Be’er-lachai-ro’i" (Genesis 24:62). In Torah studies we are taught to be alert to deeper meanings whenever the sacred text mentions a particular geographical place. With the help of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks [1] , let’s explore the mention of Be’er-lachai-ro’i  here in the scene where Isaac sets eyes on his wife Rebecca for the first time. What does Be’er-lachai-ro’i  mean, and where have we encountered it before? "Well of the Living One of my seeing" is one translation. [2] It draws from the words of Hagar, the Egyptian slave-servant who, in an earlier story (Genesis 16), runs away from home, pregnant with Abraham’s first son. She is fleeing mistreatment at the hand of Abraham’s wife, Sarah (called Sarai at that time), and it is in the wilderness that Hagar encounters a divine messenger, the angel of the L ORD . In Genesis 16:13-14, we learn that the place of this encounter is named after Hagar’s words to the angel of the L ORD , ‘You are El Ro’i (‘the One who looks upon me’). The angel has just declared that Hagar’s child will be called Ishmael and Hagar will have descendants “too numerous to count” (16.10). Note the similar wording to God’s promise made to Abraham. Hagar then returns home, only to be expelled again by Sarah, this time in a permanent exile with her son Ishmael, or so it seems. (You can read these stories about Hagar in chapters 16 and 21 of Genesis). But, back to our original question: why would Be’er-lachai-ro’i  be mentioned in Genesis 24:62, years later, as the adult Isaac comes to greet his wife, Rebecca? The Torah doesn’t tell us, but in the Midrash (the creative storytelling traditions of Judaism) the sages say that Isaac has come from Be’er-lachai-ro’i  having been on a quest to track down Hagar so that she may become the wife of Abraham, now that Sarah has died (23:2). Thus, while Abraham was directing a matchmaking effort on his son’s Isaac’s behalf, it seems that Isaac was doing some matchmaking for his father! Were Isaac’s efforts successful? The Torah tells us that the name of Abraham’s second wife was Keturah; however, it is not uncommon for biblical characters to have more than one name. Also, we find out later (25:9) that both sons , Isaac and Ishmael, were involved in burying their father Abraham. Ishmael’s sudden appearance at Abraham’s grave is surprising. Unless… What if Abraham’s second wife was actually Hagar? Hence the sages’ interpretation in support of this scenario. Observes Rabbi Sacks, “This indeed integrates Abraham’s second marriage as an essential component of the narrative. Hagar did not end her days as an outcast. She returned, at Isaac’s prompting and with Abraham’s consent, to be the wife of her former master.” [3]      This is indeed, a humanly poignant and ethically powerful interpretation, especially in light of the earlier domestic tensions, where Sarah declares: “The son of this slave girl is not going to share in the inheritance with my son Isaac!” (Genesis 21:10). Now, within this rabbinic perspective, we see the adult Isaac expressing, not antagonism towards Hagar, mother of Ishmael, but rather a desire to bring her back into the family fold. Despite being banished by Sarah, it seems that Hagar and Ishmael were always important to Abraham (cf. 21:11) and held a place in his heart. Isaac is the son through which God's promise to Abraham continues; however the 'outsider', Ishmael, is also valued and blessed; and ultimately the two sons are reunited. This interpretation holds out profound hope for the possibility of reconciliation in situations which were, or are, filled with conflict and division. Recall that all three Abrahamic faiths, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, look to Abraham as a foundational figure, albeit through differing interpretative lenses. Pondering the subtleties and ‘hidden meanings’ in the story of Abraham, can we find hope for all our complex relations: within homes, nations and the wider human family? Delve into these fascinating biblical stories and continue the Torah conversation.   Notes: [1]  Jonathan Sacks, Covenant & Conversation  (Maggid Books and The Orthodox Union, 2009), 141-144. [2]  See translation by Chaim Stern in Eskenazi and Weiss, eds., The Torah. A Women’s Commentary (New York: URJ Press and WRJ, 2008), 74. [3]  Sacks, Covenant & Conversation , 143. Bibliography: Jonathan Sacks, Covenant & Conversation  (Maggid Books and The Orthodox Union, 2009): Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Andrea L. Weiss, eds., The Torah. A Women’s Commentary  (New York: URJ Press and WRJ, 2008); Scripture: translation by Rabbi Chaim Stern in Eskenazi and Weiss, eds., The Torah: A Women’s Commentary  (2008).   © Teresa Pirola, 2024. lightoftorah.net . Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More...    The reflection above refers to Parashat Chayei Sarah (Genesis 23:1-25:18), the Torah portion read this week in the annual Jewish liturgical cycle. As our year of Torah reading proceeds, download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, thanks to the generosity of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

“The Lord appeared to him [Abraham] by the terebinths of Mamre; he was sitting at the entrance of the tent as the day grew hot” (Genesis 18:1). Just one verse into this Bible story (Genesis 18:1-15) and the Jewish sages of old were already probing and puzzling over the text. What do you think caught their attention? 'The day grew hot.’ Why would this apparently irrelevant detail be mentioned? Look closely. . . The Lord 'appeared’ (v.1), yet there is no indication that the Lord appears to say or do anything special as is the usual case (e.g., “The Lord appeared and said to so-and-so...”). Nor is Abraham doing anything special to warrant a divine appearance. He is not calling out to God or offering a sacrifice. He is just, well... sitting. Then there is the ambiguous use of pronouns: ‘he,’ ‘him.’ Although 18:1 is the opening of a new chapter, it reads as if it is continuing a previous story. And what is the preceding story? The account of Abraham’s circumcision. In fact, one rabbinic view regards the divine appearance as the grand conclusion to the story of Abraham’s circumcision, rather than the opener to the hospitality story which follows. There are, of course other rabbinic interpretations, but let’s stay with this one and follow it a little further. Ask yourself: why would God be showing up, now, at this moment, if there is no divine command to be issued, no blessing to give, no message to be delivered? Rashi (11th c. Torah commentator), echoing other voices in the tradition, teaches that on this occasion God visits Abraham, not for the purpose of an important declaration or commissioning, but simply out of personal concern. For, having just been circumcised, Abraham is physically recuperating: R’Chama the son of Chanina said: It was the third day since his circumcision, and the Holy One, Blessed be He, came and inquired about [Abraham’s] welfare. Of course, this explanation is not meant to be taken literally, yet what a tender, imaginative portrayal of God’s personal compassion and care for a faithful man. Sometimes this interpretation is used to affirm the importance of visiting the sick, for this is what God did for Abraham. So then, this divine appearance, unlike so many others recorded in the Torah, is not a means to an end, but is given for its own sake; much like friends who get together, not always to accomplish a practical purpose, but simply for the pleasure and comfort of being in each others’ presence. The text tells us “The day grew hot” (18:1). Rashi teaches that God even “bought the sun out of its sheath” so that Abraham would not be troubled by guests, because no one travels during the hottest part of the day. But then, seeing that Abraham was lonely for company, he “brought the angels to him in the form of men.” One story from the midrash (Jewish storytelling traditions) suggests that Abraham was not only physically aggrieved by his circumcision but also experiencing emotional turmoil over the thought that the sign of the covenant might lead to his isolation. “Now that I am circumcised, perhaps [travellers] will no longer visit me?” [Genesis Rabbah 48,9]. To this, God offers reassurance through a divine visitation! As much as these imaginative interpretations make us smile, they also stimulate our minds and refresh our spirit with penetrating insight and wisdom. We might ask: Has God ever ‘appeared’ to me when I was physically/emotionally/spiritually vulnerable? How might Rashi’s interpretation of Genesis 18:1 enrich the way I live my life? • *** Bibliography: Freedman and Simon, eds., Midrash Rabbah: Genesis (London, 1983); Herczeg, ed., Rashi: The Torah with Rashi’s Commentary , Sapirstein ed. (New York, 1999); Leibowitz, Studies in Bereshit (New York, 1994); Sarna, JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia, 1989). © Teresa Pirola, 2012. www.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, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More...    The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayeira (Genesis 18:1-22:24), the Torah portion read this week in the annual Jewish liturgical cycle. As our year of Torah reading proceeds, download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, thanks to the generosity of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

“The Lord appeared to him [Abraham] by the terebinths of Mamre; he was sitting at the entrance of the tent as the day grew hot” (Genesis 18:1). Just one verse into this Bible story (Genesis 18:1-15) and the Jewish sages of old were already probing and puzzling over the text. What do you think caught their attention? 'The day grew hot.’ Why would this apparently irrelevant detail be mentioned? Look closely. . . The Lord 'appeared’ (v.1), yet there is no indication that the Lord appears to say or do anything special as is the usual case (e.g., “The Lord appeared and said to so-and-so...”). Nor is Abraham doing anything special to warrant a divine appearance. He is not calling out to God or offering a sacrifice. He is just, well... sitting. Then there is the ambiguous use of pronouns: ‘he,’ ‘him.’ Although 18:1 is the opening of a new chapter, it reads as if it is continuing a previous story. And what is the preceding story? The account of Abraham’s circumcision. In fact, one rabbinic view regards the divine appearance as the grand conclusion to the story of Abraham’s circumcision, rather than the opener to the hospitality story which follows. There are, of course other rabbinic interpretations, but let’s stay with this one and follow it a little further. Ask yourself: why would God be showing up, now, at this moment, if there is no divine command to be issued, no blessing to give, no message to be delivered? Rashi (11th c. Torah commentator), echoing other voices in the tradition, teaches that on this occasion God visits Abraham, not for the purpose of an important declaration or commissioning, but simply out of personal concern. For, having just been circumcised, Abraham is physically recuperating: R’Chama the son of Chanina said: It was the third day since his circumcision, and the Holy One, Blessed be He, came and inquired about [Abraham’s] welfare. Of course, this explanation is not meant to be taken literally, yet what a tender, imaginative portrayal of God’s personal compassion and care for a faithful man. Sometimes this interpretation is used to affirm the importance of visiting the sick, for this is what God did for Abraham. So then, this divine appearance, unlike so many others recorded in the Torah, is not a means to an end, but is given for its own sake; much like friends who get together, not always to accomplish a practical purpose, but simply for the pleasure and comfort of being in each others’ presence. The text tells us “The day grew hot” (18:1). Rashi teaches that God even “bought the sun out of its sheath” so that Abraham would not be troubled by guests, because no one travels during the hottest part of the day. But then, seeing that Abraham was lonely for company, he “brought the angels to him in the form of men.” One story from the midrash (Jewish storytelling traditions) suggests that Abraham was not only physically aggrieved by his circumcision but also experiencing emotional turmoil over the thought that the sign of the covenant might lead to his isolation. “Now that I am circumcised, perhaps [travellers] will no longer visit me?” [Genesis Rabbah 48,9]. To this, God offers reassurance through a divine visitation! As much as these imaginative interpretations make us smile, they also stimulate our minds and refresh our spirit with penetrating insight and wisdom. We might ask: Has God ever ‘appeared’ to me when I was physically/emotionally/spiritually vulnerable? How might Rashi’s interpretation of Genesis 18:1 enrich the way I live my life? • *** Bibliography: Freedman and Simon, eds., Midrash Rabbah: Genesis (London, 1983); Herczeg, ed., Rashi: The Torah with Rashi’s Commentary , Sapirstein ed. (New York, 1999); Leibowitz, Studies in Bereshit (New York, 1994); Sarna, JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia, 1989). © Teresa Pirola, 2012. www.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, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More...    The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayeira (Genesis 18:1-22:24), the Torah portion read this week in the annual Jewish liturgical cycle. As our year of Torah reading proceeds, download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, thanks to the generosity of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you…and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed. (Genesis 12:1-3) ‘Lech lecha!’ (‘Go forth!’). God’s call to Avram triggers an extraordinary adventure for Abraham and Sarah and their descendants, and for us too. As I ponder this briefest of Hebrew phrases - Lech Lecha  - in the context of the first five books of the bible (Pentateuch), I am struck by its inherent call to life. I submit that, in the language of Torah, to ‘go forth’ is another way of saying, ‘Go, give life!’ The gift and giving of life – both physical and spiritual – is a recurrent theme in the bible. It leaps from the page of the Genesis creation account, as a formless darkness comes to light and life, as ‘plants yielding seeds’ and living creatures ‘of every kind’ abound, and as the first man and woman are told to ‘be fruitful and multiply’. At the other end of the story, in the Book of Deuteronomy, Moses stands on the edge of the promised land and exhorts his listeners to ‘Choose life!’ And lest we mistake this for a ‘wellbeing’ slogan, Scripture spells out its context and meaning: covenant, sacred ancestry, gift and responsibility: Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. Choose life so that you and your descendants will live.(Deuteronomy 30:19-20) From start to finish, God’s word is a call to go ‘beyond’ oneself and to bring forth ‘more’. Thus, Genesis is the story of the birth of a people - of sexual unions and pregnancies, of births and child-rearing, of homemaking and breadwinning, of the joys and challenges of what it means to be a family called into the service of God, so that ' all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’ It is not an easy story. Giving life never is. Time and again, Scripture tells of barren women, childless couples, difficult pregnancies, warring siblings, families displaced, livelihoods threatened. And yet, still, life goes on, God’s promise finds a way.  Nowhere in the Hebrew Scriptures is this paradox more obvious than in the story of Abraham and Sarah, called to bring forth countless descendants, yet childless until their old age. Their story continues to inspire our own efforts and struggles to ‘give life’. Like Abraham and Sarah, we are sent forth into the fray of earthly complexities, with all its difficulties and deaths. It is precisely here that the call is to be life-givers, to bear witness to God’s light, life and presence in the world. Whether we are physically bringing forth children and grandchildren, or being generative in myriad other ways, when we hear ‘lech lecha’ our response is to live and love as fully as possible, using all our God-given gifts and opportunities to be a blessing, to leave the world, not simply as we found it, but with ‘more’ than it was before we arrived. The journey to ‘go forth’, ‘to a land that I will show you’ might, literally, entail a geographical land – a home in a new country or the same neighbourhood in which we grew up. It will most certainly refer to a mental, spiritual and ethical landscape. Whatever the 'land' to which one goes forth, the call entails courage, persistence, growth, change, the painful mistakes of maturing and the challenge to boldly and lovingly contribute to one's family, community and surrounds. As with Abraham and Sarah, the journey will not be smooth, easy or always successful. It is a journey that we entrust to God, knowing that others have travelled this way before us. We are in good company, with Abraham and Sarah and with the whole people of God on a pilgrim path. Enough said.... Lech lecha!   Scripture: NRSVACE Image: Shutterstock © Teresa Pirola, 2024 www.lightoftorah.net     This article may be reproduced for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website.   Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More...    The reflection above refers to Parashat Lech Lecha (Genesis 12:1 - 17:27), the Torah portion read this week in the annual Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom. Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, thanks to the generosity of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

With an eye to the Jewish cycle of readings, this week we open the Book of Genesis and ponder the story of the Tower of Babel (11:1-9). This ancient story is a telling about the human family and is set prior to the particular calling of Abraham which appears a chapter later. It is a story with echoes in other ancient cultures. Archaeological evidence points to the remains of a form of tower (ziggurat) which was once a feature of ancient Mesopotamian cities, along with inscriptions similar to the words in Genesis, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves…”  (Gen 11:4). In Jewish tradition, the Tower of Babel is largely interpreted as a symbol of the arrogance of human beings, to think that they can build their way up to heaven, as if the Almighty is in reach and can be grasped - indeed, conquered and controlled - by human effort. Such folly is laid bare as God disables the builders’ plans by confusing their speech and dispersing them, and their languages, across 'the whole earth' ( kol ha-aretz - a Hebrew phrase which occurs five times in just nine verses). In the writings of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (1) we find this theme explored within the framework of a key word found in the first creation story of Genesis, with the Hebrew root b-d-l , which means to distinguish, separate, divide. In the creation story, God divides light from darkness, waters from dry ground, and distinguishes between the various life forms, including animals from human beings. Finally, God separates the sacred (the Sabbath day of rest) from the secular (the six days of work). It is this fundamental distinction and separation in the order of the divinely willed cosmos that allows human beings to exist harmoniously with their Creator and with one another. The builders of the tower can be seen to subvert that order by attempting to collapse the distinction between heaven and earth, between the Creator and those who are created. The result of their overreach is the destruction of their grandiose plans to 'make a name' for themselves.(3) Thus, a critical lesson for societies and civilisations is carried forward through the Scriptures of Israel. Writes Sacks, “Only a respect for the integrity of creation stops human beings from destroying themselves. Humility in the presence of divine order is our last, best safeguard against [hu]mankind arrogating to itself power without constraint...” (3) It strikes me that another way to express this same wisdom is within the framework of the Sabbath. One of the great practical gifts and safety nets that Judaism has brought the world is the reminder that, amidst lives so often filled with frenetic activity in the name of progress, innovation and development, we need to pause periodically to simply rest in the knowledge that God , not you or me, is the Creator and ultimately in charge of the universe. This is the genius of honouring the Sabbath as 'a day apart'. The practice of Sabbath rest, one day in seven, keeps in view the fact that, while human beings have the incredible privilege of being co-creators with God, we are not God. All that is godly about us we owe to the Creator who has fashioned us in the divine image, who draws us into relationship and continually breathes life into our very existence. We are called to be in a proactive, lively partnership (covenant) with God, yes, but not to try to dominate the partnership. The risk of blurring the line is part of negotiating our way through life, and life is a dangerous project! We should not shy away from the adventure or avoid necessary risks; but that is why we need to keep hearing the ancient story of the Tower of Babel, preserved and interpreted by Jewish tradition, and by Christianity too, as a symbol and reminder of what is at stake. Enjoy reading the nine verses of the Tower Babel (Genesis 11:1-9). Consider the dangers of 'tower-building' in your own life and community. Reflect on the gift of the Sabbath day in light of this Torah portion. Join the Torah discussion.   Notes: Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Covenant & Conversation: Genesis  (New Milford, CT: Maggid, 2009), 49-55. In a fascinating wordplay, the Tower of Babel story uses two Hebrew words with the same root letters but in reverse order to indicate the reversal of the builders' misguided plans: 'brick' and 'confuse'. Sacks, Covenant & Conversation , 55.   Bibliography: Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Andrea L. Weiss, Eds, The Torah. A Women’s Commentary (New York, 2008); Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Covenant & Conversation: Genesis . A Book of Beginnings (New Milford, CT: Maggid Books, 2009); Scripture: NRSV. Image: Tower of Babel, painting by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, 1563. [Shutterstock]   © Teresa Pirola, 2024. lightoftorah.net . Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry initiated within the Catholic community in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on the Hebrew Scriptures with the help of insights from traditional Jewish approaches to the sacred text. The reflection above refers to Parasha Noach (Genesis 6:9 - 11:32), the Torah portion for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle (in the diaspora). Shabbat shalom.

A new idea has extraordinary power. It can be embraced, rejected, or ignored, but what one cannot do is ‘unthink’ it. So says creative thinker Edward De Bono, and so ‘says’ the first creation account in the opening chapters of Genesis (1:1-2:4). For what do we find here but the quintessential innovative idea, uttered as God’s creative word, that brings into being the universe and sets it upon its dramatic course of cosmic productivity. Human beings can embrace it, reject it, or (try to) ignore it, but what they cannot do is ‘uncreate’ it! We are part of a history set in motion by God who is intimately involved in, yet utterly free of, the world and ridiculously optimistic in our regard. Genesis 1 invites us to reflect upon this radical innovation and optimism that grounds our very being. There is the challenge of over-familiarity with this text. We have heard the creation story so often, from childhood bible stories to parish Easter vigils. But the invitation is to listen again and, more than listen, to speak it out loud and hear it from each other’s lips. And when we do, what do we hear? With the help of the translation of Everett Fox, what can be heard in a fresh way is the text’s methodical rhythm. Fox points out that the closer one gets to the Hebrew text and the sensuality of the Hebrew language, the more obvious this is. (In the NRSV, too, if we read slowly and deliberately, the rhythmic structure can be appreciated.) God said: Let there be light! And there was light. God saw the light: that it was good. God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light: Day! and the darkness he called: Night! [Fox] What is interesting here? Certainly the repetition of ‘God-plus-verb’. But what is strange about it? The austere language and plodding sound-pattern makes it all seem so orderly, effortless. God says , God sees , God separates , God calls … and it is so! Surely the creation of the world cannot be that easy! But here lies the power of the text’s structure to communicate its central message. God is portrayed as being totally in control of, and at peace with, the creative process. There is gradual ascent, but no urgency; nothing is forced. God gets there, when God is ready (Fox, 10; Plaut, 19). Yet there is a paradox. There is methodical rhythm and sense of careful order, yes. But on the other hand, as our Torah text unfolds, it bursts at the seams with imagery that is anything but calm and restrained: unwieldy growth spurts, lifegiving abundance, joyful abandon. As a wind ( ruah ) from God sweeps over the waters, a dark, formless void comes to life. Subtle repetitions underscore the fertility of the emerging scene; for example: “Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed… fruit trees of every kind….that bear fruit with the seed in it” (v.11). Then again, waters bring forth not just living creatures but “swarms” of them (v. 20). The earth itself is created to [re]create; to bring forth, having been brought forth. Plurality and diversity are inscribed in the act of creation, as indicated by the repeated phrase (nine times) ‘of every kind’. Wild animals, sea monsters, and all those ‘creepy-crawly’ things (I wonder why that term “creep/creeping” is mentioned five times) find a home in water or soil. On Day Five, living creatures are judged to be ‘good’, blessed, and commanded to reproduce. On the sixth day, human beings are created, elevated, blessed, entrusted with responsibility, called ‘exceedingly good’ and told to reproduce. And as if that isn’t enough, behind the creation story Jewish tradition abounds with even more creation stories. In brief, one of them goes like this: God consults with Torah before creating the world. When Torah expresses her scepticism as to whether the world can survive human sinfulness, God assures her that human goodness will indeed prevail. After all, God has already created repentance….[1] God is not only creative, but decisive and optimistic in the act of creating! Then, in the final verse of our text, we hear: “These are the toledot of the heavens and the earth: their being created” (Gen. 2:4). Literally, toledot means ‘generations’ or ‘births’. Some translations render it ‘story’; Plaut, ‘chronicles’. In the NRSV it is ‘generations’, and in Fox’s translation, ‘begettings’. Genesis will continue to unfold with generational stories—stories of sexual unions, pregnancies and births… longed-for ones, difficult ones, successful ones. But the overarching theme of generational fecundity and continuity starts right here ‘at the beginning’ (Gen.1:1). It sets the tone for the entire story of Israel. The God of Israel is the One who brings forth LIFE. We hear it also in the voices of the prophets. At all times, even in its most grievous chapters of exile, Israel is called to trust in “the One who created the heavens…, who made the earth… who gives breath to its people” (Isa. 42:5). God’s covenant with Israel is inseparable from God’s creative act. Created as we are in the divine image, we too are equipped with extraordinary lifegiving power. How terrifying! There is so much that dampens our creative spark: rejection, failure, the slavery of unbridled work schedules. Little wonder that people pull their heads in, saying, “I’m not the creative type.” Some are afraid to have a child. The story of our beginnings calls us not to be afraid But the story of our beginnings calls us not to be afraid; to believe that, embedded in our very existence, is a desire to burst forth, spill over, share, and extend the very life force, natural and spiritual, that pulses within us. Isn’t that what 2 Timothy is getting at - " God’s gift was not a spirit of timidity...” (1:7) - and the kind of confidence the Gospel of Luke has in mind with reference to the power of faith to uproot a tree and plant it in the sea (see Lk. 17:6)? Our creative efforts are not to be obsessions, but work embraced in freedom, in love. For unlike other gods, Elohim (the Hebrew name for God used in the first creation account) creates with ease, not struggle; calmly sets the sun and the moon as if hanging lanterns, resisted by no creature. Here our Torah text can be seen as Israel’s critique of surrounding cultures [Fox, 12; Plaut, 20]). Most importantly, Elohim sets limits to the creative labor and sanctifies Sabbath rest which becomes “the first sign of revelation within the act of creation itself”.[2] The picture is of a completely sovereign Creator in whom we can have total trust. To be human, then, is to have confidence in one’s innovative powers, but in a relaxed way, trusting in a divinely creative source beyond self. • For Reflection and Discussion: God is my Creator. Ponder this intimate relationship. Think of one aspect of your God-given creativity that has been dimmed by hurt, cynicism, sin. How does God want to ‘recreate’ that part of you? Take steps that will help the healing process. 1. Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews. 2. Rosenzweig, The Star of Redemption , quoted by Fritz, 'Sabbath Rest and Sunday Worship', T he Way Supplement (2000/97). Bibliography: Fox, The Five Books of Moses (New York, 1995); Fritz, ‘Sabbath Rest and Sunday Worship’, The Way Supplement (2000/97); Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews, (1909; www.sacred-texts.com/jud/loj/index.htm); HarperCollins Study Bible: NRSV (London, 1993); Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary (New York, 2006). © Teresa Pirola, 2012. www.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, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Bereshit (Genesis 1:1 - 6:8), the first Torah portion read as the annual Jewish liturgical cycle begins again. As we begin a new year of Torah, download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, thanks to the generosity of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing .

Dear Friends, According to the rhythms of the Jewish liturgical calendar, having just celebrated Simchat Torah ('Rejoicing in Torah') and welcomed the opening chapters of Genesis on Shabbat , the past year has come to completion and a new year, and a new cycle of Torah readings, is underway. And what a year it has been, for the world, for whole communities and for personal lives, since the events of October 7, 2023. Unimaginably painful, disruptive; traumatizing, revealing, challenging.... ongoing. For regular readers, I am aware that I have taken you on a journey these past 12 months that you didn’t sign up for… A year of reflections that have largely focused on antisemitism, rather than Torah. It’s not what I’d planned either, but I felt compelled to raise some kind of voice of protest as the 'world’s oldest hatred' re-emerged in ways I never thought I would see. However, it is time to return this Weekly Insights blog to its original purpose - reflecting on the Torah portion of the week ( Parashat Hashavua ). I will kick start this new cycle in a separate post, but, first, some items of news: New Book May I share with you my latest book in which I have gathered up my reflections and opinion pieces from the past year and published them as one volume. Titled, October 7 – A Response to the 2023 Massacre in Israel and Surging Antisemitism in Australia , the book can be accessed at this webpage , in both digital and print book form. Liturgical Calendar I also share with you the liturgical calendar (for 2024-2025) produced by the generous efforts of Elizabeth Young, Etz-Hayim - Tree of Life Publishing . It is a helpful resource for Christians as they seek to ‘walk together’ with Jews on the journey to/with God, albeit via different religious paths. Freely download your calendar here . Anniversary of Nostra Aetate As I write this, it is the 59th anniversary of the promulgation of Nostra Aetate  (28 October 1965), the document of the Second Vatican Council which held out so much hope for a new era in Catholic-Jewish relations and for interreligious relations more widely. National Gathering - Interfaith Dialogue In my home country of Australia, the 60th anniversary year of Nostra Aetate opens with a national Gathering organised by the Australian Council of Christians and Jews in Melbourne on 2-4 February 2025. The topic is Dialogue, and details can be found at this link . If you have an interest in interfaith dialogue, and can be in reach of Melbourne in February 2025, please do come along and engage with like-minded people who care deeply about the future of interfaith relations. Learn more here . The path ahead - Weekly Insights My plan is to share weekly Torah reflections at this webpage as the year unfolds, either from Light of Torah archives or (ideally) fresh writings as my schedule allows. Thank you for sharing in this Torah journey. Teresa Teresa Pirola, ThD is a Sydney-based freelance writer and faith educator, and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press/Stimulus, 2023). Light of Torah is a grassroots project arising from the Catholic community, aimed at instilling in Christians a love for the Hebrew Scriptures/Old Testament and a respectful appreciation of Judaism and Jewish traditions.

For this Sunday, 8 September 2024, here are some words to speak and pray for the six hostages murdered by Hamas   In my previous blog post , I wrote about an Israeli couple, Rachel Goldberg-Polin and Jon Polin, who, with other hostage families, launched A Week of Goodness , in the hope that extra kindness, good deeds and generosity in the world could help bring about the release of the hostages in Gaza, including their 23-year-old son, Hersh Goldberg-Polin.   Last week, Hamas provided the world with a very different message, brutally executing Rachel and Jon’s son and five other young hostages held in a terror tunnel, shortly before their rescuers could reach them.   This has been one of the toughest weeks for Israelis and for Jewish communities everywhere since the horrors of October 7. There are no words adequate to describe what they are going through. However, the message of this blog is that Christians must not abandon Jews in this moment. Church leaders must find the words to be a united voice of justice and compassion, to protest this despicable act of antisemitic terror, and to ‘walk with’ their Jewish brothers and sisters in their grief and ongoing ordeal since October 7. In short, I am urging Christian leaders to ‘step up’ this Sunday and speak to their congregations about what just happened.   To assist, a Statement & Prayer is freely provided here for church communities to use this Sunday. Essentially, it is a one-page document that can be read, prayed, printed, shared, as a whole or in part (with or without acknowledgment). It can also be adapted to your audience - I just ask that the essence and spirit of the Statement be maintained. This resource is not a general statement/prayer for peace or for all victims of war. (There are many of those kinds of statements circulating and they are important and necessary.) This is a specific prayer and statement about what occurred last week, when Hamas executed six innocent civilians and filmed their final statements for a vile purpose. It is about confronting evil, a task which can be daunting and even unpopular, and I understand that it can be challenging to find the right words for one's audience. This one-page resource suggests words that can be spoken and prayed, lest Christians find themselves paralysed and silent while Jews are abducted, tortured and murdered by those who deny their right to exist.   Thank you for speaking up in your church, your home, your workplace and other Christian circles. May God bless your efforts for justice and for peace, and for being a clear voice for Jewish communities in the face of rising antisemitism.   Download the Statement and Prayer here. Teresa Pirola, ThD is a Sydney-based freelance writer, faith educator and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press, 2023). www.teresapirola.com

Trust a Jewish Israeli couple, parents of a hostage in Gaza, to launch a “Week of Goodness” in the midst of unimaginable parental suffering. I first read about it in the newsletter of an Australian synagogue, and then in the Times of Israel : “Rachel Goldberg-Polin and Jon Polin are launching a “Week of Goodness” campaign [14-21 July], with the hope that extra kindness, good deeds and generosity in the world could help bring about the release of the 116 hostages remaining in Gaza, among them their son Hersh Goldberg-Polin.” According to Jewish tradition, acts of loving kindness can redeem and humanise the world. From Sunday to Sunday (14-21 July), the Polins, together with other families whose loved ones are held hostage in Gaza, are calling the Jewish world to sing, pray, study Torah, volunteer, give money to charity, bake challah, and help dedicate a new Torah scroll. All I can do is shake my head in wonder and think: How typical of the Jews, of every Jewish community I have ever met, at home and abroad, over years of interfaith relating. They are not angels; they are flawed mortals like the rest of us. Yet somehow, even in the most impossible of situations, they manage to find ways to meet inhumanity with humanity. Take, for example, the Jewish community in my homeland, Australia. For nine months they have endured the crushing impact of the October 7 massacre, including their people held hostage in Gaza and unprecedented antisemitic displays in their own city streets. So, what do they do? Launch angry protests in their home cities? No. Organise a motorcade to menace the streets of Muslim-populated neighbourhoods? No. Rip down pro-Palestinian posters? No. Scream obscenities and smear the offices of politicians in red paint? No. Deface sacred public memorials? No. Chant ‘f… the Arabs’ in the shadow of the Sydney Opera House? No. Publish the names of Palestinian creatives, exposing them to harm? No. Graffiti the schools and residences of another minority group? No. Encampments on university campuses? Nope, not that strategy either. Rather, they choose the path of resilient, dignified respect – for themselves and for others. They support their members in their grief. They advocate for their community through legitimate, peaceful channels afforded by a democratic nation to which they have so admirably contributed. They get on with their religious traditions and their daily life, which includes regular giving to the wider Australian society and outreach to other religious and cultural groups. This is what Jewish communities have been doing in response to the unprecedented pressure they have been under since October 7. And it should make us ‘think again’ before we uncritically accept every accusation we hear touted in the media about how Israelis conduct   themselves in the war in Gaza. And now this: the voices of Israeli hostage families calling for a “Week of Goodness”. May its spiritual power lead not only to the return of hostages but spur every person of faith and goodwill to take a clear stand against antisemitism, including the genocidal antisemitism of Hamas. Closer to home, my ardent hope is that, as a signal of respect for the Jewish people, and conscious of the antisemitic frenzy unleashed in the past nine months, Australians will express solidarity with this “Week of Goodness”. It is the least we can do for the Jewish community who has contributed so generously to all that is good, indeed best, about our nation, Australia. ********************** Teresa Pirola, ThD is a Sydney-based writer and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations. Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press, 2023) Join an online prayer campaign for the release of the hostages: https://chng.it/6MYGtqwD4H Image: Depositphotos.com - Haifa, Israel June 29, 2024: View of a wall with images of the hostages, kidnapped by Hamas. Haifa, Israel  — Photo by RnDmS

Hatred of Jews is “a sin against God” (cf. Pope Francis, Feb 2024). When it comes to antisemitism, Catholics have a document, a history, a relationship and a teaching which amount to a serious obligation to call out this lethal prejudice and to offer the support so desperately needed by Jewish communities after October 7. 1.        Catholics have a conciliar document The Second Vatican Council taught that the Church “decries hatred, persecutions, displays of anti-Semitism, directed against Jews at any time and by anyone” (NA, 4). This explicit denouncement of antisemitic prejudice is found in paragraph four of Nostra Aetate, Declaration on the Relationship of the Church to Non-Christian Religions, promulgated in 1965 with a clear eye on the Holocaust. Yet how many Catholics are even aware that this document exists? With the recent surge in antisemitism, unprecedented since World War II, it is incumbent upon Catholic leaders, teachers and preachers to give firm voice to their Church’s teaching on antisemitism, from pulpits and podiums, through ecclesial statements and media, in education and justice activities. 2.        Catholics have a history Catholics, like all Christians, have an antisemitic history that weighs on their collective conscience. Prior to the corrective teaching of Vatican II, toxic distortions of Christian thought (e.g., “the Jews are rejected by God”), had infected church catechesis for many centuries, giving credence to the subjugation, expulsion and violent persecution of Jews in the societies in which they lived. Inevitably, this was a contributing factor to the social conditions that allowed the ideology of Nazism to take root and the Holocaust to occur. Some courageous Christians resisted this evil. Yet too many turned a blind eye as their Jewish neighbours were progressively harmed — robbed of their jobs, their homes, their freedoms, their safety and eventually their lives. This shocking historical backdrop makes it inexcusable for Christians today to remain silent in the face of antisemitic hate speech, graffitied Jewish dwellings, chants in support of October 7 terrorists and torn-down posters of hostages. Fortunately, in Australia, we need not fear for our lives when we protest antisemitism; we have only to bear the discomfort of going against popular opinion in certain circles. It is a small price to pay for bearing witness to truth and healing the sins of the past. 3.        Catholics have a relationship Christians have a relationship with Judaism “which we do not have with any other religion” (Pope John Paul II, 1986). Christianity’s roots lie in Judaism and the Church is inconceivable without the story of the people of Israel, of whom Jesus is a son. It is but a logical step for an observant Christian to appreciate that the Jewish kin of Jesus, so close to his heart on earth, must be infinitely close to his heart now, from the magnified perspective of resurrection and glory. When Jews today are vilified, mocked, attacked, abducted and murdered, one would expect followers of Jesus to instinctively raise a full-throated and united voice in protest, out of a relationship of faith, not to mention of a shared humanity. When their public voice is hesitant, half-hearted or absent, antisemites are emboldened, social cohesion is weakened, and Jews are abandoned. 4.        Catholics have a teaching Catholics are proud of their Church’s social teaching and readily champion their justice commitments in defense of all sorts of minority groups facing specific challenges. But if these commitments do not extend to the defense of Jewish minorities battling “the world’s oldest hatred”, how credible is Catholic social teaching? The antisemitic climate is worsening in Australia. Through aggressive activism, our society is becoming less welcoming and more dangerous to Jews. The activists are not representative of fair-minded, inclusive Australians, but they are vocal, tolerated and getting away with behaviour that would be deemed totally unacceptable if directed at other minorities – Muslims, Asians, the LGBTQI community, First Nations people. In the face of all this, Catholics are neither powerless nor empty-handed. They have a document, a history, a relationship and a social teaching which together comprise a substantial resource kit for challenging antisemitic voices and ensuring that Jews can live in peace. This is the time to deploy it. Silence is not an option. Photo (J-Wire): Grafitti on wall of a Jewish school, Melbourne, 2024. Teresa Pirola, ThD is a freelance writer, faith educator and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press, 2023).

Screams Before Silence is a harrowing, yet sensitively crafted and ultimately viewable, documentary film about the weaponisation of rape by Hamas during the atrocities committed on October 7. Produced by Kastina Communications and directed by Anat Stalinsky, the film provides a platform for the testimonies of survivors, eyewitnesses, first responders and forensic experts to be heard by the general public as they recount what they saw or heard and, in some cases, endured as a result of the attack by Hamas militants in southern Israel. In a rampage of killing in streets, homes, kibbutzim and at a music festival, some 1200 Israelis were murdered, thousands more wounded and 240 hostages taken to Gaza. Make no mistake: the subject matter is distressing in what it reveals of the extent to which the bodies of women and girls were sexually abused, tortured, slaughtered and mutilated, especially at the site of the Nova music festival. However, Screams Before Silence is no ‘horror film’ of gruesome pictures, nor a demonisation of Palestinians. It is a sensitively delivered piece of storytelling and truth-telling that showcases not only the depravity of which human beings are capable, but also examples of extraordinary courage and human resilience. Relying largely on a series of interviews by Sheryl Sandberg and video footage from October 7, the film draws the viewer into the violent world of the massacre without plunging into a sea of traumatising images. Apart from the people speaking, most of the footage shows destroyed homes and cars, not dead bodies. Occasional images of a corpse are fleeting and have been deliberately blurred. The film carefully leads the viewer down into the depths of its dark subject matter before moving upwards towards the ‘light’ (if one may call it that) of an ending that strikes a note of resilience, purpose and empowerment. The film conveys what should be an uncontroversial message: the weaponisation of rape and sexual violence is never acceptable... Screams Before Silence places front-and-centre what should be an uncontroversial message: that weaponisation of rape and sexual violence is never acceptable, can never be excused by a larger political ‘context’, and must be condemned forthrightly by every decent human being and treated as criminal conduct without prevarication. What makes this film especially relevant is that the crimes of October 7 are not over. Some 129 hostages remain in Gaza, including women and children. From the testimony of released hostages we know that there is good reason to fear that sexual abuse of those who remain behind continues. “Bring Them Home Now!” should be on the lips of every vocal feminist protesting violence against women. It is not wise for all people to see this film. Protection of one’s mental health must be a priority. However, I urge those who feel they can do so, to watch the film. Its content and message need to be processed, in the same way that Holocaust documentaries play a critical role in our grasp of historical and present-day events. Holocaust footage is always disturbing to watch, but it is downright dangerous for societies to turn a blind eye. And, just as Holocaust denialism is widespread today, so too has October 7 denialism been embraced by some anti-Israel activists. Such a willful distortion of history is inadvertently exacerbated by the tendency of good and well-intentioned people to downplay these crimes through half-hearted reporting or utter silence, whether for political reasons or simply out of discomfort, ignorance or confusion. Rather than wallow in a sense of helplessness, the gift of this film is that it empowers a constructive response. By simply setting aside an hour to view it, anyone can bear witness to what actually occurred on October 7. I believe strongly that non-Jewish people have a special responsibility to view the film, so that Jewish communities are not left alone to bear the burden of witness. I believe strongly that non-Jewish people have a special responsibility to view the film, so that Jewish communities are not left alone to bear the burden of witness. So, I appeal to all non-Jewish adults who are able to do so: Please, set aside an hour to watch online Screams Before Silence. Allow yourself to be confronted by the raw truth of what occurred on October 7. Deal with your emotions: your tears, grief, anger or disbelief. Pray for the dead and the bereaved. Then, share the link; discuss the film with family, friends and colleagues; if you have a public platform to write or speak, then write, then speak! Be a voice for the voiceless — for the women, and for the men too, who were mercilessly abused on October 7 in unspeakable acts which appear to have been part of a calculated, targeted, systematic plan to destroy not only the bodies of women, but the soul of a nation. ************ Dr Teresa Pirola is a Sydney-based freelance writer and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press, 2023). The trailer and full film of Screams Before Silence can be viewed here: https://www.screamsbeforesilence.com/

“The Jews killed Jesus.” For much of church history, this erroneous, unjust and lethal accusation of Jewish collective guilt held sway among Christian populations. It was never defined as doctrine. However, as a sentiment and pattern of thought, the deicide charge (Jews accused of being “Christ-killers” or murderers of God) caused grievous harm to Jewish lives. It was repudiated by the Second Vatican Council in its Declaration on the Relationship of the Church to Non-Christian Religions: "[W]hat happened in His passion cannot be charged against all the Jews, without distinction, then alive, nor against the Jews of today… "[T]he Jews should not be presented as rejected or accursed by God, as if this followed from the Holy Scriptures. All should see to it, then, that in catechetical work or in the preaching of the word of God they do not teach anything that does not conform to the truth of the Gospel and the spirit of Christ…. "[The Church] decries hatred, persecutions, displays of anti-Semitism, directed against Jews at any time and by anyone." (Nostra Aetate, 4) Thus did the Catholic Church, with the authoritative weight of an Ecumenical Council, dismantle a key pillar of the “teaching of contempt” – a term that describes the antagonistic attitude towards the Jewish people which had infected Christian communities since the early centuries of Christianity’s development. Post-conciliar ecclesial documents have reinforced this teaching and promoted a “teaching of respect”. In particular, teachers and homilists today are urged to take great care with Scripture so as not to perpetuate anti-Judaism patterns of the past. For example, in these statements of the Holy See’s Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews we read: "With respect to liturgical readings, care will be taken to see that homilies based on them will not distort their meaning, especially when it is a question of passages which seem to show the Jewish people as such in an unfavourable light. Efforts will be made so to instruct the Christian people that they will understand the true interpretation of all the texts and their meaning for the contemporary believer. (Guidelines, 1975, II) "The Gospels are the outcome of long and complicated editorial work. . . . Certain controversies reflect Christian-Jewish relations long after the time of Jesus. To establish this is of capital importance if we wish to bring out the meaning of certain Gospel texts for the Christians of today. All this should be taken into account when preparing catechesis and homilies for the last weeks of Lent and Holy Week." (Notes, 1985, IV, 21) These steps, taken by the Catholic Church and by other mainstream Churches, are of critical importance; however, the task of addressing anti-Jewish prejudice is far from complete. The old contemptuous attitude that held Jews to be rejected by God, is still capable of tugging at the Christian mindset in subtle and subliminal ways, especially during Passion Sunday and Good Friday where the Passion narratives are at the heart of the liturgical rhythm. What might we do about this? How can we fortify our Christian minds and hearts against forms of subtle bias infiltrating our hearts as we listen to the evocative strains of the Passion story read, and perhaps also enacted, on Palm Sunday and Good Friday? This question is especially pertinent in the current global climate, when Jewish communities around the world are experiencing unprecedented levels of antisemitism and tensions emanating from conflict in the middle east are tearing at the fabric of normally peaceful societies. Here are ten suggestions, for this year and future years: View a series of short videos “Presenting the Passion…Without Blaming the Jews” (available at ICCJ.org) by leading scholars in the field of Jewish-Christian relations. Consult these guidelines (US Bishops) when planning dramatizations of the Passion story. Become educated in the history of the Church’s journey as it repented of the “teaching of contempt” and embraced the “teaching of respect”. A well-regarded history of the development of Nostra Aetate is John Connelly’s From Enemy to Brother. The Revolution in Catholic Teaching on the Jews 1933-1965 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2012). As part of a Christian prayer life, approach Jesus with a consciousness of his Jewish identity and his Jewish kinship ties, in keeping with the Gospel narratives. Ask Jewish friends about how they perceive the history of Christian anti-Judaism and how it has impacted them or their own family’s story or community’s history. Listen and learn. Learn to identify old anti-Jewish stereotypes at work in present-day hate speech. In Lent and Holy Week each year, include a prayer of lament for the long history of Christian anti-Judaism, perhaps similar to the prayer of Pope John Paul II during his historic visit to the Western Wall in Jerusalem (Judaism’s holiest site) in the year 2000. Pay attention to contemporary church statements on Jewish-Christian relations, such as the documents quoted above. Many more can be found at the Dialogika online library. Learn about the interfaith significance of the sculpture Synagoga & Ecclesia in Our Time, by Joshua Koffman, located at Saint Joseph’s University, Philadelphia. The best antidote to prejudice is conscious acts of love. In an examination of conscience, review your words and actions, taking a lead from these words of Pope John Paul II: "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. No valid theological justification could ever be found for acts of discrimination or persecution against Jews." (Address to Australian Jewish Community, 26 November 1986) Finally, we can ponder these words from Nostra Aetate, 4-5, which underscore God’s love for the whole human family, and our task to love God and neighbour, inseparably: "Christ underwent His passion and death freely, because of the sins of humanity and out of infinite love, in order that all may reach salvation. It is, therefore, the burden of the Church's preaching to proclaim the cross of Christ as the sign of God's all-embracing love and as the fountain from which every grace flows. "We cannot truly call on God, the Father of all, if we refuse to treat anyone as a brother or sister, created as he or she is in the image of God. People's relation to God the Father and their relations to others as brothers and sisters are so linked together that Scripture says: 'The one who does not love does not know God' (1 John 4:8)." Teresa Pirola, ThD is a Sydney-based writer and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Preaching and Teaching (Paulist Press, 2023). (C) Teresa Pirola, 2023 | This article may be freely reproduced for non-commercial purposes with acknowledgment.