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This Sabbath in the Jewish calendar is called Shabbat Shuvah, "Sabbath of Return". It falls between Rosh Hashana (Jewish New Year) and Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement). Yom Kippur is the most solemn day in the Jewish liturgical year – a day of fasting and prayer, a day of personal and communal atonement for sins. These "in-between" days leading up to Yom Kippur are known as “Days of Awe”. They are imbued with themes of teshuvah, the return to God, the renewal of one’s life – life lived with God, and within community. In Jewish tradition the voices of the sages abound with keen biblical insights into the practice of teshuvah, the return to a merciful God. They often speak through the simplicity and power of story (midrash). You may like to ponder this story from Jewish wisdom, during these Days of Awe: “Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God” (Hosea 14:1/2). A king’s son was a distance of a hundred days’ journey from his father. Said his friends to him, “Return to your father.” He said to them, “I cannot.” His father sent word to him, saying, “Go as far as you are able, and I shall come the rest of the way to you.” Thus, the Holy One said to Israel: “Return to Me, and I will return to you (Malachi 3:7).” [1] 1. From Pesikta Rabbati, a medieval book of midrash (Jewish storytelling traditions), quoted in Days of Awe: A Treasury of Jewish Wisdom for Reflection, Repentance, and Renewal on the High Holy Days, edited by S.Y. Agnon (New York: Schocken Books, 1965, 1975), 139. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The Torah portion read in Jewish communities on this Sabbath is Parashat Vayelech, Deuteronomy 31:1-30.

Moses and the Israelites are encamped on the plains of Moab, poised to enter the promised land. There Moses gives a final speech, restating the obligations of the covenant between God and Israel. As he speaks, we hear this arresting statement: “I am making this covenant, sworn by an oath, not only with you who stand here with us today before the LORD our God, but also with those who are not here with us today.” Deuteronomy 29:14-15 (NRSV) Who are those “who are not here with us this day”? It can’t mean absentees on the day since just a few verses earlier we were told that all Israelites from all groups are assembled. According to the great medieval Jewish scholar known as Rashi, the souls of all future generations of Jews were present at this covenantal moment, just as they were at Mount Sinai. This concept is of profound importance to Jewish understanding of what it means to be God’s people, bearers of the divine promises and the covenant from generation to generation. The fact that this verse uses the word “stand” when referring to those “here” and then omits it when speaking of those “not here” can perhaps be taken as a distinction between those bodily present and those spiritually present. [1] But how can a covenant made long ago obligate generations to come? Surely this is not possible! Abravanel, a 15th century Spanish-Jewish Torah commentator, tells of an argument he had with other sages over this very question. Before we hear how Abravanel replied, what reflections do you bring to the discussion? [Ideally, pause to discuss this with a friend, or havruta partner.] Perhaps you made the observation that what occurs in the present does indeed impact on future generations. Every family, for instance, is shaped by the actions and choices of their ancestors, for good or for ill. Abravanel compares Israel to a family debt. “Just as the children inherit their father’s property, so they inherit his debts. Even though the children were not alive when the debt was incurred they are still liable to repay it. Similarly, God conferred a privilege on Israel and they were indebted to God for it.” [2] What was that privilege that makes future generations “indebted” to God and bound to the covenant? Abravanel names first and foremost the Exodus miracle. Remember the verse that introduces the Decalogue: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery” (Exodus 20:2). The serious obligation brought to bear upon the Jewish people derives from the wonder of being called into a relationship with God who liberates and calls them into a life of freedom as God’s people. Our Torah passage invites reflection on what God has done and continues to do for the Jewish people as they live in covenant with God. When we do this, we will surely be led also to new insights and questions about what God has done and continues to do for us Christians in calling us into covenantal relationship through Jesus Christ. For Jews, the all-embracing nature of their covenant with God has been experienced through history as both a joyful privilege and a heavy burden. Says Abravanel, writing at the time of the Inquisition and various forms of persecution: “Many of our people have forsaken the religion of their forefathers as a result of persecution and wished to be like the nations of the world... Though they and their descendants would do all in their power to assimilate they would not succeed. They would still be called Jews against their own will and would be accused of Judaizing in secret and be burnt at the stake for it.” [3] These are sobering words for Christians to hear, in light of Church history. This week's Torah portion draw us to ponder the privilege and burden of being not only a believer, but part of a people of faith. It leads us to view our present experience in light of the past and the future, knowing that our faithful God is with us always. May this exercise in interfaith listening enrich and deepen our spiritual lives, lived in community, with all its joys and struggles. 1. Elie Munk, The Call of the Torah, vol. 5 (New York, 1995), 319. 2. Quoted in Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Devarim (New York, 1996), 299. 3. Leibowitz, Studies in Devarim, 302. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Nitzavim (Deuteronomy 29:9 - 30:20), which is the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom! Parashat Nitzavim is read on the Sabbath that comes before Rosh Hashana (Jewish New Year). Rosh Hashana commences in 2021 on the evening of 6 September. Here's wishing our Jewish friends a good and sweet year! L’shana tova u’metuka!

At last! After forty years of desert-trekking, the God-given homeland of the Israelites is within their grasp. But are they ready for this miracle? In Deuteronomy 29, Moses stands at the edge of the Promised Land and reminds the Israelites that the past forty years have been a story of God’s signs and wonders, yet also a story of the people’s rebellion. Why this contradiction? Why have the Israelites been blind and deaf to God’s miracles? Let’s take a closer look at Moses’ words in Deut. 29:1-3 with an ear to creative Jewish insights into this text. [1] "You yourselves have seen all that [the LORD] did before your eyes in the land of Egypt, the great trials that your eyes saw, those great signs and portents. But [the LORD] has not given you a mind to know or eyes to see or ears to hear, until this day." (Deut. 29:2-4) Traditional Jewish commentators wrestled with these verses, especially with the last statement which seems to suggest that God was the cause of the people’s blindness. How might we interpret this text? Moshe Hefez, a 16th century Italian commentator interprets it as a statement about the dangers of familiarity and habit. The closer we are to the miracle, the less we appreciate it: “We do not appreciate [miracles] until they are far away from us, since familiarity breeds contempt and they are regarded as natural not supernatural phenomena. This is what Moses meant. You witnessed all those great wonders but only appreciated their full significance just now, at this time, after they had receded from view, as if you had heretofore lacked sight and hearing.” [2] Ponder this... Have you had the experience of recognizing a sign, a wonder or a miracle only after the event? What prevented you from ‘seeing’ it at the time? Rabbi Meir Simha (19th century, Dvinsk, Russia) interprets the text this way: The Israelites often mistakenly attributed divine powers to Moses, forgetting that he was a mere mortal like themselves. For years they presumed the miracles to be Moses’ doing. Only when he died did they come to terms with his mortality and acknowledge God as the true author of the signs and wonders that they had witnessed. Indeed, one tradition has it that this speech was delivered on the day of Moses’ death. But do either of these views really account for the reference to ‘the LORD’ in our text? This is the question posed by Nehama Leibowitz (20th century, Israel) who goes on to offer another view: At the end of his life Moses looked back on forty years of toil as he had tried to bring his people into relationship with the Lord. Nothing had worked! Overcome by the mystery of this human ‘failure’ he looked for an answer in divine providence. Perhaps the people’s resistance was not their fault, he reasoned, it was somehow part of the divine plan. Thus, what we hear in this verse is a great sigh of disappointment, that trustingly lays itself to rest in the unfathomable mystery of God’s ways. Our three commentators touch on critical tasks in the journey of life. We might name them as follows: The ability to look back on the past with clarity and to recognize the footprints of grace in even painful events. The importance of distinguishing God’s message from the messenger; and acknowledging God as its true author. The willingness to accept that we can’t solve everything in life, to surrender our imperfect lives to the divine mystery. Three interpretations are presented from three different centuries of Jewish Torah study. Which ‘speaks’ to you and how does it agree (or not) with your own reflections on this text? • 1. Based on the teaching of Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Devarim (New York, 1996). 2. Quoted by Leibowitz, 292. Scripture: Everett Fox © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Ki Tavo (Deuteronomy 26:1 - 29:8), which is the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

'When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow—in order that the Lord your God may bless you in all your undertakings' (Deut. 24:19). Care for the poor, those socially and economically vulnerable, is a recurrent theme in the Torah. A number of precepts make provision for their welfare: the release of debts, prohibition of usury, the poor man’s tithe, etc. What absorbs our attention here, however, is a different kind of welfare practice. Described in Deut. 24:19-21, the forgotten sheaf and other leftovers of the harvest are to be available to ‘the stranger, the fatherless, the widow’. Read aloud Deuteronomy 24:19-21. Note the sound and flow of the text, the threefold repetitions: ‘do not...’ and ‘that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow.’ And the meaning? Is this simply a humanitarian plan to ‘help the poor,’ or is a more complex message at work? A sheaf left behind in the field is a small amount; hardly the way to satisfy the hunger of the poor. Similarly, the forgetfulness: accident is hardly a sure basis for a welfare plan. Equally as puzzling is the reason given for the practice: 'in order that the Lord your God may bless you [i.e., the owner of the field]' (24:19). Is it really a virtue, deserving of blessing, to support the poor through one’s forgetfulness? Jewish commentators note that this is the only precept in the Torah which is to be observed unconsciously, rather than consciously. Really, how effectively can the poor be helped by a law that sanctions forgetfulness? The sages pondered these questions and interpreted the precept in various ways. Here is a taste of three responses found in Jewish tradition: If a person is blessed by unintended good deeds, how much greater will be the reward for deliberate good deeds! The poor man finds dignity by completing the harvesting and by taking sustenance directly from the earth rather than from the hand of the rich. It is character-building for the owner of the field who ‘acquires a generous nature.’ Regarding #3, how might this practice help the owner of the field to ‘acquire a generous character’? On this question Hirsch [1] is convincing. The gifts to the poor described in this Torah passage, says Hirsch, challenge the very concept of ‘Mine’. The owner of the field and vineyard is taught to regard himself as a steward of God’s blessing rather than trying to monopolise nature. The work of his hands must not be expended for the purpose of squeezing every last bit of produce for his own consumption. Even his thoughts of his labour must not be exclusively focused on his selfish good. In other words, the main aim of the precept is to educate people (rich and poor, for the law applies to a poor man’s field too) in a fundamental attitude of gratitude, a generous mindset that places God at the centre of life. Through such formation of minds and hearts, the common good will be served and the poor will be treated with dignity and respect. Reflection Think of a situation in your life that helped (or is helping) you to ‘acquire a generous nature.’ Ask: What do I jealously guard as ‘mine’? A piece of clothing? An appliance? A section of the house? A particular seat at table? Is it really ‘yours’? Consider how you might share this gift/blessing with somebody else. 1. Hirsch: 19th c. German-Jewish rabbinical leader. Sources: Eskenazi & Weiss, The Torah: A Women’s Commentary (New York, 2008); Leibowitz, Studies in Devarim (New York, 1996); Montefiore & Loewe, A Rabbinic Anthology (New York, 1974); JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia, 1996). Scripture: NJPS. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Ki Teitzei (Deuteronomy 21:10 - 25:19), which is the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

Among ancient ‘rules of war’ set down in Deuteronomy 20, in verses 19-20 we find an interesting directive on how to treat the trees outside a besieged town. What exactly is the point of this burst of ‘ecological compassion’ in the midst of a battlefield? And what can we learn with the help of traditional Jewish approaches to the text? “When in your war against a city you have to besiege it a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees... You may eat of them, but you must not cut them down. Are trees of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city?” (Deuteronomy 20:19) Destroying the fruit trees of an enemy’s fields was part of ancient warfare, as a means of destroying an enemy’s resources and forcing a surrender. Yet here the Torah forbids this practice (with the exception of trees that do not produce food, see v.20). The sentence in italics (above) has particularly intrigued commentators. The Hebrew is difficult and the translation uncertain. The above translation takes the verse as a question, as does Rashi: [1] If trees are not (human) enemies from the besieged city, why harm them? Ibn Ezra,[2] on the other hand, renders it as a statement: Don’t cut down the trees, for they are like human beings. In what way can a tree be equated with a human being? In the sense of the rabbinic saying: “The life of a human being is only from the tree.”[3] Without trees and their fruit, human communities cannot survive. The Sefer HaHinukh [4] sees in this verse a teaching that urges people to avoid all unnecessary destruction and to value the things that promote human wellbeing. “This precept is designed to inculcate love of the good and beneficial.” This view agrees with the rabbinic principle of bal tashchit (literally, ‘do not destroy’) which extrapolates from our Torah verse to form a general prohibition against behaviours that waste or mistreat precious God-given resources. Maimonides [5] goes on to say: “This is the case not only with trees. But whoever breaks utensils, tears garments, demolishes a building, stops up a well and wilfully destroys food violates the prohibition of ‘you shall not destroy...’” Thus, while the Torah teaches (in Genesis) that human beings are given dominion over the earth and are entitled to utilize its natural resources for social and economic gain, this precludes mindless destruction and exploitation that endangers the very existence of the earth and its inhabitants. And you thought environmental movements were a modern phenomenon! • 1. Rashi: 11th century commentator 2. Ibn Ezra, 12th c. commentator 3. Sifre: rabbinic commentary, approx. 300 CE 4. Ha-Hinukh: 13th c. education work 5. Maimonides: 12th c. scholar Sources: Fox, The Five Books of Moses (New York, 1995); JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia, 1996); Leibowitz, Studies in Devarim (New York, 1996); Munk, The Call of the Torah: Devarim (New York, 1995). Scripture: JPS. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Shofetim (Deuteronomy 16:18 - 21:9), which is the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

In the Book of Deuteronomy Moses urges his people to gird themselves with spiritual and moral strength to be worthy to enter the promised land. This week we take up the story in Deut. 8:1-6, with particular focus on the miracle of the manna: “The LORD your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, in order to humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart... He humbled you by letting you hunger, then by feeding you with manna, with which neither you nor your ancestors were acquainted, in order to make you understand that one does not live by bread alone...” (Deut. 8:2-3). Here, and also in Exodus 16:4, the manna is described as a ‘test’. The Jewish commentators puzzled over this. Surely a test implies undertaking something difficult. Yet the manna was God’s miraculous gift of food, sustaining the Israelites when they hungered in the wilderness. Why call it a ‘test’? After reading Deut. 8:1-6, and revisiting chapter 16 of Exodus, enter into the discussions about the manna. Theologically-speaking, the manna is viewed as a divine gift in Jewish tradition. Unlike a short-lived miracle, this ‘bread of angels’ (Ps. 78:25) lasted forty years and continued to amaze people long afterwards. According to Sforno (15-16th century), because the manna provided such comfort, the ‘test’ was to see whether the Israelites would be attentive to God even when not in a state of suffering. Are you convinced by this interpretation? Not all Jewish commentators are! Sforno’s view can be questioned on the grounds that the manna was hardly a luxury. It was a strange, unpopular food, ‘unknown to their ancestors’. Perhaps you prefer Nahmanides’ (13th c.) explanation: “They were totally dependent on the daily portion of manna which rained down and melted in the heat of the sun.” Although miraculous and sustaining, the manna came in limited measures and could not be stored. Its collection and digestion represented an act of trust: that there would be enough for today, and that the Lord would provide enough for tomorrow. Day by day, for forty years, the manna taught the Israelites dependence on their Maker for their most basic needs. In this light we can make sense of the view of Rashi (11th c.): the real test of the manna lay in the instructions that accompanied it. Would the Israelites obey these instructions, not attempting to store it, not gathering on the Sabbath? In other words, would Israel demonstrate by concrete action its trust in the Lord, its willingness to follow the Torah? The manna was a gift, but not always appreciated (recall the complaint in Numbers 11:6: ‘there is nothing at all but this manna to look at’). This is an important point for reflection: Even in the face of God’s miracles, there is the temptation of negativity and ingratitude. What is my own response to God's gifts in my life? Further reflection The story of the manna is also found in Psalm 78:24-25 (‘he rained down on them manna to eat...the bread of angels’), Psalm 105:40 (‘food from heaven’) and Nehemiah 9:15. In John’s Gospel (6:31), following the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus and his disciples refer to the manna. Think about how your reading of this Gospel passage is enriched by having reflected on traditional Jewish interpretations of the miracle of the manna. Bibliography: Beale and Carson, eds., Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: 2007); Heschel, Heavenly Torah (New York, 2007); Leibowitz, New Studies in Devarim (New York: Lambda, 1996); Rashi: Commentary on the Torah (New York: Mesorah, 2001). Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Eikev (Deuteronomy 7:12 - 11:25), which is the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

In the Book of Deuteronomy, as Moses continues his farewell discourse just outside the promised land, he reminds the Israelites of the momentous events on Mount Sinai when the Lord gave the Torah (the ‘teaching’, the ‘law’) and established a covenant with his people. “Moses summoned all the Israelites and said to them: Hear O Israel, the laws and rules that I proclaim to you this day!” (Deuteronomy 5:1) What follows this verse is a repetition of the Decalogue (‘Ten Commandments’) given at Sinai. Read this, along with Moses’ added comments, in Chapter 5. As you do, place yourself in the biblical story: you are one of the new generation of Israelites preparing to enter the promised land. Your parents are dead, and Moses will soon die. At Sinai your parents had fled Egypt: the danger lay behind. Here, on the plains of Moab, an unknown future awaits you: the danger lies ahead. In what way does Moses’ recitation of the Sinai teaching impact upon your heart and soul? “It was not with our fathers that the Lord made this covenant, but with us, the living, every one of us who is here today” (5:3). Were you puzzled by the statement: ‘not with our fathers’? Yet we know from the book of Exodus that the covenant was made with ‘our fathers’! Perhaps you understood this statement as underlining the timelessness of the covenant. As the sages taught, and Jewish tradition continues to teach, the Torah was not given to only one generation of Israelites in one place; it was given to every Jew in every time and place. “Take to heart these instructions with which I charge you this day” (6:6). Noting the word ‘this day’ (‘today’) in the above verse, the medieval scholar Rashi comments on the present-day urgency of God’s commands: “They should not be in your eyes like an old edict to which a person does not attach importance, but rather, like a new one, towards which everybody runs.” God’s word is a living word, eternally fresh, relevant. It addresses the hearer in the ‘now’, calling for a response. The sages teach that this ‘now’ extends not only to obedience to the law but to the experiences of Sinai which can still be felt today. The biblical event has lost none of its flavour, its power to reveal God’s glory and move us. In the Midrash it is said that at Sinai: “God’s voice, as it was uttered, split up into seventy voices, in seventy languages, so that all the nations should understand” (Exod. R. 5:9). Originating as God’s gift to Israel, the Torah goes forth to the nations. Says the prophet Isaiah: “For instruction shall come forth from Zion, The word of the LORD from Jerusalem” (2:3). Reflection Ponder the vitality of Torah as understood by the Jewish sages. Ponder, too, this vitality as heard and felt in your own life as a 21st century Christian who embraces Jesus, the living Word, “God’s living Torah”. Discuss practical ways to live this vitality in daily life, and to avoid staleness, complacency. Further reflection A poignant scene is described in Deut. 3:23-28 where Moses begs the Lord to allow him to enter the promised land. Read these verses pondering: How uncharacteristic it is of Moses to pray for himself rather than others. The urgency of Moses. His death is near and he pleads with the Lord one last time. The pathos of the scene; Moses’ humanity, vulnerability. Bibliography: Freedman & Simon, eds., Midrash Rabbah: Exodus (London/New York, 1983); Leibowitz, New Studies in Devarim (New York: Lambda, 1996); Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary (New York, 2006); Rashi: Commentary on the Torah (New York: Mesorah, 2001). Scripture: NJPS. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Va-et'chanan (Deuteronomy 3:23 - 7:11), which is the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

The Hebrew title for the book of Deuteronomy is Devarim, ‘words’. What ‘words’? The opening verse tells us that these are the farewell speeches of Moses to the people of Israel as they stand on the plains of Moab, ready to make their final journey, across the Jordan River, to enter the promised land. They will make this journey without Moses who prepares to die as the Lord foretold (Numbers 27:13). In the opening chapters of Deuteronomy we find Moses reviewing the travels of the Israelites from Mt Sinai. The events he recounts—the establishment of leaders, the sin of the spies, encounters with foreign nations—have already been described in the books of Exodus and Numbers. Read Moses’ memoirs as recorded in Deuteronomy 1:5 – 3:11. Do you notice anything unusual? If you have been following the stories of the Israelites through the desert, you will notice some interesting discrepancies in Moses’ retelling. Moses’ recall of events is not identical to the stories told earlier. For example, here, the appointment of leaders is presented as Moses’ idea rather than that of his father-in-law, Jethro (Exodus 18:17f.); here, God bars Moses from the promised land because of the spies’ sin rather than Moses’ actions (Numbers 20:12); here, the battles against Sichon and Og are remembered as divinely pre-ordained victories rather than unplanned occurrences (Numbers 32). What is going on? Something very ancient, very Jewish, and embedded also in our own Christian tradition: the ongoing interpretation of the biblical text. The word of God is not a dead letter to be studied like a petrified fossil; it is a living word that speaks ‘heart to heart’ and is received afresh by each new generation of believers. And how early this process of interpretation begins: we see it occurring here within the biblical text itself. What else can we glean from Moses’ memoirs? He tells and interprets events for a reason. This is not self-indulgent reminiscing; this is a leader preparing his people, a younger generation which has no memories of their parents’ slavery, for the next critical stage of nationhood. What vital lessons are being taught at this point? If you were Moses, what aspects of the journey would you highlight? Some contemporary Torah commentators explore a psychological profile of Moses, likening his troubles along the journey to those of parenthood. He is a great leader, yes, but also a flawed human being struggling to come to grips with the past forty years and his hopes and dreams for his children, at times even blaming them as a projection of his own unresolved issues. Our Torah portion reveals a profound I-Thou relationship between Moses and the Israelites (note how the word ‘you’ repeatedly punctuates his speech); yet it is a relationship laden with conflict and alienation as much as intimacy and fidelity. As a parent, teacher, pastor or community leader, can you relate to Moses’ sacrifices, heroism, limitations and struggles? Continue to explore the opening chapters of the Book of Deuteronomy, allowing these sacred stories to speak to your own life's journey. Reflection We are considering Moses’ final words. Have you ever been with someone who was close to death and who shared some final words with you? If you had a short time to live, what words would you most wish to speak, and to whom? 1. Midrash Rabbah Devarim 1.7 Bibliography: Eskenazi & Weiss, The Torah: A Women’s Commentary (New York, 2008), p.1058; Freedman and Simon, eds., Midrash Rabbah: Deuteronomy (London/New York, 1983). © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version here. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Devarim (Deuteronomy 1:1 - 3:22), which is the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

Having just been victorious in battle, in Numbers 32 we find the Israelites encamped on the plains of Moab ready to cross the Jordan river into the promised land. Finally! After all the obstacles they have encountered in their epic wilderness trek, can there be anything stopping them now? Apparently there is. This time the obstacle is not physical hardship, hostile foreigners or the discouraging reports of the spies. It is the desire to settle down and be comfortable, rather than forge ahead into the land promised by God. "Now the Reubenites and the Gadites owned a very great number of cattle. When they saw that the land of Jazer and the land of Gilead was a good place for cattle, the Gadites and the Reubenites came and spoke to Moses, to Eleazar the priest, and to the leaders of the congregation, saying..."(Numbers 32:1-2). The Reubenites and Gadites seek permission to be excused from the Israelites’ approaching battle as they enter the promised land, to instead 'stay put' and settle with their families in the rich grazing country east of the Jordan. Chapter 32 tells of their approach to Moses, Moses’ response, and the outcome of the negotiations. Note that the Reubenites and Gadites present their petition in two parts. First, they politely present the facts. The land on which they stand “is a land for cattle; and [we] your servants have cattle” (32:4). Then the text says: “They continued...” It is as if there had been a pause. Were they dropping a hint and waiting to see how Moses responded? Were they hoping that Moses might be impressed by the ‘cattle’ link and suggest they stay behind and settle the land? If so, their hopes were dashed. Moses apparently was silent, and so they continued: “If we have found favour in your sight, let this land be given to [us] your servants for a possession; do not make us cross the Jordan” (32:5). To this Moses releases a torrent of fury: “Shall your brothers go to war while you sit here? Why will you discourage the hearts of the Israelites from going over into the land that the Lord has given them?” (32:6-7). Moses has no time for their cosy little plans when all their resources as a nation are being mustered to accomplish the divine plan! In their proposal he sees the disaster of the spies (see Num.13-14) all over again: “If you turn away from following the Lord, the Lord will again abandon the people in the wilderness; and you will destroy all this people” (see 32:15). The Midrash too expresses disapproval: "In the case of the children of Gad and the children of Reuben, you find that they were rich, possessing large numbers of cattle, but they loved their money and settled outside the Land of Israel" (Num. R. 22:7). Yet, despite his fury, Moses negotiates with the Reubenites and Gadites. They will enter the battle along with the people of Israel and secure a victory. Then they, along with the half tribe of Manasseh (32:33), will settle in their land of choice, outside the land of Israel. Still, the gulf between negotiating parties remains. In Moses’ mind, Israel’s mission as God’s people is paramount. The Reubenites and Gadites on the other hand seem to view it as a business deal balancing their interests against the rest of Israel. Unlike Moses who is centred on God and the whole people, they are focused on their own material wealth and needs. Subtle details in the text reveal this critical difference in vision; can you pick them? Further reflection: If the motivation of the tribes in question was so wrong (v.14) and contrary to the divine will, why did Moses negotiate with them? And why did it not attract the same cataclysmic display of divine wrath as in the case of the story of the spies? Food for thought! As these sacred stories draw us in, we are invited to engage, ponder and wrestle with the word of God. Sources: Freedman and Simon, eds., Midrash Rabbah: Numbers Vol. 2 (London/New York: Soncino Press, 1983); Leibowitz, Studies in Bamidbar (New York, n.p.d.). Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version here. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Matot-Masei (Numbers 30:2 - 36:13), which is the (double) Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

“Then the daughters of Zelophehad came forward” (Numbers 27:1). Do you know the story of Zelophehad’s daughters? The Bible depicts them as five sisters who find themselves in a perilous economic situation. Because they do not have husbands or any living male relatives, they cannot inherit their father’s land. Through a successful appeal to Moses they draw attention to the injustice and bring about a permanent change in the Israelites’ legal code. Read the story of the five sisters in Numbers 27:1-11. Then, with the help of traditional Jewish wisdom—with all its creativity and attention to detail— let’s ponder the sacred text. Perhaps you noticed that, like their ancestors (v.1), each sister is introduced by name: Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah and Tirzah. Note, too, how they plead their cause. It is before the whole assembly (v.2). They clarify that their father was not part of the Korah rebellion (v.3). They appeal on account of kinship and their father’s honour (v.4). Their choice of words is bold (‘Give to us a possession’) and not couched in self-effacing language. With prayerful and imaginative attention to God’s word, what wisdom do you uncover in this ancient text? In Jewish storytelling traditions we find these five women held in high esteem. A famous midrashic anthology (Yalkut Shimoni) observes that the sisters correctly identified an injustice in its deepest sense: “When the daughters of Zelophehad heard that the Land was being divided among the tribes—but only for males, not for females —they gathered and took counsel. They decided that...flesh and blood is apt to be more merciful to males than to females. But [the One] who spoke and the world came into being is different—[divine] mercies are for males as well as females...”[1] Rashi comments: “Their eye saw that which the eye of Moses did not see.” [2] In Midrash Rabbah and in the Talmud we find the rabbis praising the five sisters for the way they approached their petition. The sisters are knowledgeable in the law (v.5 tells us that Moses brings to the Lord their ‘case’ or ‘judgment’, not just their query), and they are practical, timing their petition as Moses engages with the subject of inheritance. “They were wise and righteous women. What shows their wisdom? They spoke at the appropriate moment...” [3] Likewise, they are praised for their integrity. In case you were wondering why none of them were married at the time of the petition, the sages venture to tell us: they were uncompromising in their high standards! “They were righteous inasmuch as they married none but such as were worthy of them.” [4] Rashi adds that they “held the land precious” just as their ancestor Joseph held the land precious (see Num. 27:1; Gen. 50:25). “The daughters of Zelophehad are right in what they are saying” (Num. 27:7). Emphatic divine approval results in a legacy of land for the sisters and an altered law for Israel. As you continue to probe, question and debate this passage, ponder: How might it speak to us about the respectful and transformative interchanges that are possible between community members and their leaders in the quest for fullness of truth and a just society? 1. See Bialik & Ravnitzky, 97 (slightly adapted here for inclusive language). 2. Rashi: revered 11th century Torah scholar, France. 3. Num. R. xxi, 11. Also, Bava Batra 119b. 4. Num. R. xxi, 11. Bibliography: Bialik & Ravnitzky, eds., Sefer Ha-Aggadah (New York, 1992); Elper & Handelman, eds., Torah of the Mothers (New York, 2006); Midrash Rabbah: Numbers (New York: Soncino, 1983); Rashi: Commentary on the Torah (New York: Mesorah, 2001). Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version here. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Pinchas (Numbers 25:10 - 30:1), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

On their way to the promised land the Israelites encounter one obstacle after another: hunger, thirst, rebellion, war. Here we explore the story of how the Israelites are threatened by a Moab king (Balak) who employs a seer (Balaam) to curse his enemy, Israel. This is a colourful story, full of intriguing questions and complete with a talking donkey! We will leave the donkey aside for now and focus on Balaam and his futile attempts to curse Israel (see chapters 23 and 24). Balak, king of Moab, engages Balaam to curse the Israelites. Yet each attempt by Balaam results in a blessing! The Jewish sages, reflecting on this text over the centuries, are fascinated by the question of the authenticity of Balaam, the seer. Was Balaam God’s chosen prophet, or a sorcerer? Why do you think he was suspect in the sages’ eyes? To begin with, let’s compare Balaam’s oracles to the words of the Hebrew prophets. Balaam: 'Rise, Balak, and hear; listen to me, O son of Zippor...' (Numbers 23:18). Jeremiah: 'Now the word of the Lord came to me saying...' (Jeremiah 1:1). Read further into Jeremiah 1. Read too, the words below from Ezekiel and Hosea. What do you notice? 'The word of the Lord came to the priest Ezekiel...' (Ezekiel 1:3). 'The word of the Lord came to Hosea' (Hosea 1:1). Like the sages, you will note an important contrast. Whereas the Hebrew prophets consistently acknowledge divine authority (‘Thus says the Lord’), Balaam announces himself and his own powers. Says Ramban,[1] Balaam appears to run after prophecy, building seven sacrificial altars in an attempt to ‘force’ divine power from heaven, to shape the divine will for mortal purposes. By contrast, the Hebrew prophets don’t seek the job of prophet; rather they are sought out by God, and some, out of humility, need to be coaxed into the role. Balaam is not filled with prophecy; rather, he is full of himself. Do you agree with this appraisal? Why or why not? Despite their criticisms, the sages couldn’t ignore the fact that Balaam’s oracles work for the good of Israel. In fact, one of his phrases has found its way into contemporary Jewish prayer books: ‘How goodly are your tents O Jacob, your dwelling places O Israel' (Numbers 24:5). And how are we to interpret 24:2 ("Then the spirit of God came upon him”) in Balaam’s third oracle? Rashbam holds that a development has taken place, taking note of 24:1 which tells us that at this point Balaam stopped seeking omens ‘but set his face towards the wilderness,’ a scene that suggests a new openness and humility before God. Hirsch is more explicit, saying that Balaam comes to the realisation that he cannot control God through sorcery. His third blessing, then, takes on a whole new quality, no longer awkwardly accomplished but freely flowing on the breath of unrestrained spirit-filled prophecy. Are you convinced? Not all the sages are! Treasure the complex issues that emerge in this fascinating debate. In the light of this biblical story reflect on your faith journey and recall: A time when you attempted to ‘control’ God; A turning point when you began to trust God more deeply; A time when you had to discern between a true and false ‘prophecy’/message. How does the story of Balaam speak to you? • 1. The commentators named here: Ramban (13th century), Rashbam (12th c), Hirsch (19th c), quoted in Leibowitz, 282-289. Sources: Eskenazi &Weiss, The Torah: A Woman’s Commentary (New York, 2008); Leibowitz, Studies in Bamidbar (New York, 1994). Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2012. lightoftorah.net Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Click here for the PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Balak (Numbers 22:2 - 25:9), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!

"Miriam died there, and was buried there" (Numbers 20:1). That’s it. In one brief sentence, the Bible records the death of Miriam, sister of Moses and Aaron. The brevity seems almost insulting. Even a death notice in a newspaper says more. And here we are, twenty chapters into the Book of Numbers—in the midst of the Israelites’ wilderness journey in which Miriam has been an important figure, in reach of the Promised Land having survived slavery, escape from Egypt, hunger and thirst, conflicts and rebellions—and all we have is one terse statement marking her death. Just twenty verses later, the death of Miriam’s brother, Aaron, is described at some length and with certain emotion. The whole community observes a thirty-day period of mourning for Aaron. Why not Miriam? Is she less important? Less loved? Do we simply presume a patriarchal bias in the text’s historical development? Can we reconcile this brevity with the way Scripture elsewhere speaks of Miriam as a chosen co-leader along with Moses and Aaron? “I redeemed you from the house of bondage, and I sent before you Moses, Aaron and Miriam” (Micah 6:4). Fascinating responses to this question can be found in Jewish interpretative traditions. Creatively attentive to the text, the Rabbis observed that Miriam’s death does not go unnoticed. Look at what happens. The moment she dies, the very next sentence reads: “The community was without water” (20:2), a fact which impacts harshly upon the Israelites, even erupting into an attack on Moses to which Moses responds badly, displaying none of his characteristic virtues of patience and trust in God. Why do the community and its leadership become unhinged at the moment of Miriam’s death? What is God’s Word trying to teach us? In the Scriptures, Miriam is associated with water. At the Nile she ensures her baby brother’s survival; at the Red Sea she leads a victory dance (Exodus 2:4-8; 15:20). In rabbinic storytelling the Israelites are said to have been accompanied in the wilderness by ‘Miriam’s well,’ a miraculous source of fresh water.[1] When she dies, the well disappears. Can it be that Moses and the community are grieving more than the absence of water? Has the ever-present contribution of Miriam to the wilderness journey been taken for granted until now? Reflection on Miriam’s death releases precious insights into the greater biblical narrative as well as into our own stories and contact with death. Can we ever really fathom the impact of death until a loved one is no longer with us? Again turning to Jewish tradition, we find the Talmud offering this interpretation. Miriam, like Moses, died in a most sacred, intimate way: by the divine kiss. [2] Why a kiss? A literal translation of the Hebrew text tells us that Moses died “at the mouth of the Lord” (Deut. 34:5). [3] For many people death can be a terrifying struggle as they face the finality of ‘letting go’ this world. But so attuned was Moses to divine ways that his release from this life into the Lord’s embrace was like the gentlest of kisses. And this was also true for Miriam, say the Jewish sages, enjoying a midrashic play on a textual repetition: "So Moses the servant of the Lord died there..." (Deut. 34:5). "Miriam died there..." (Num. 20:1). An apparently extraneous word in the text fuels the rabbinic mind in such a way that the tradition enfolds a deeply-held conviction: the Lord’s special love and choice of his daughter Miriam. 1. BT Shabbat 35a 2. Mo’ed Katan 27b-28a 3. English translations often read ‘at the command of the Lord.’ © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website. Click here for the PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Chukat (Numbers 19:1 - 22:1), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical calendar. Shabbat shalom!