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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.

Pope Francis has written a letter to “his Jewish brothers and sisters” in Israel (2 Feb 2024) in response to communications received and specifically in light of an Open Letter by Jewish Leaders and Scholars. In Pope Francis’ reply letter, he begins by lamenting the wars and divisions that are increasing all over the world. He then makes three essential points: First, he assures his Jewish brothers and sisters that he is with them in their grief and pain. “My heart is close to you, to the Holy Land, to all the peoples who inhabit it, Israelis and Palestinians, and I pray that the desire for peace may prevail in all. I want you to know that you are close to my heart and to the heart of the Church…” Second, the Pope’s letter affirms the teaching of the Second Vatican Council when he writes that the Church “rejects every form of anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism, unequivocally condemning manifestations of hatred towards Jews and Judaism as a sin against God.” Here, Pope Francis acknowledges the grim reality on the ground: “Together with you, we, Catholics, are very concerned about the terrible increase in attacks against Jews around the world. We had hoped that ‘never again’ would be a refrain heard by the new generations, yet now we see that the path ahead requires ever closer collaboration to eradicate these phenomena.” Third, the papal letter stresses the shared task of peacebuilding. “Together, Jews and Catholics, we must commit ourselves to this path of friendship, solidarity and cooperation in seeking ways to repair a destroyed world, working together in every part of the world, and especially in the Holy Land, to recover the ability to see in the face of every person the image of God, in which we were created.” Our Jewish friends appreciate Catholic words of compassion, support and solidarity. They appreciate them even more when our words translate into practical commitments. So, what can Catholics do to live the sentiments of Pope Francis’ letter? Here are six suggestions: Write a note of support to a Jewish friend, or to a Jewish community or organisation in your neighbourhood or state. There has been a staggering 738% increase in antisemitic incidents in Australia in recent months, and many Jews are feeling unsafe in their own country and concerned for the safety and wellbeing of their children.  A note of reassurance from a fellow Australian is a welcome gesture. Parents, teach your children what antisemitism is, and model what it means to be upstanders, not bystanders, whenever Jews, or any person, is harmed by prejudice and hate speech. Engage in respectful conversations about matters such as the war in Gaza where opinions are divided, taking care that social media and ‘placard’ narratives do not replace the real work of education about social, political and historical realities. Support peacebuilding initiatives that bring together people of diverse faiths and cultures. Pray for Jewish communities in their heartfelt concerns, including joining in prayer for the hostages who are still being held by Hamas. And we pray for peace for all in Gaza and in Israel at this time of great distress. If you live in Sydney, join in a peaceful rally against antisemitism this weekend: Sunday 18 February, 3.00 pm (youth event at 2pm) at the Domain in the city of Sydney. “Never Again Is Now” is a Christian initiative and open to all Australians. See: www.neveragainisnow.com.au. Say No to antisemitism and affirm the bond we share as Australians committed to a peaceful and cohesive society. Teresa Pirola is Sydney-based freelance writer and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press, 2023).

Will Catholic feminists be a voice for the voiceless when it comes to the Israeli, mainly Jewish, October 7 victims of rape who cannot speak? Teresa Pirola writes about an injustice that has gone unacknowledged by many advocates for women and justice, and looks for the response of her own Catholic community. Why has it taken so long for the world, and even Israeli authorities, to acknowledge the growing evidence that sexual violence against Israeli women was a significant component of the atrocities committed by Hamas on October 7? This was the question addressed at a seminar last month by Professor Ruth Halperin-Kaddari, Founding Director of the Rackman Center for the Advancement of the Status of Women at Bar-Ilan University Law Faculty in Israel, whose career has encompassed membership of a United Nations convention on discrimination against women. Speaking at an online gathering hosted by the National Council of Jewish Women of Australia on 10 December 2023, Professor Halperin-Kaddari outlined a number of factors that delayed the investigation of sexual crimes in the aftermath of October 7. In terms of Israel’s response, one reason was the sheer number of corpses and body parts that were being brought into morgues, and the confusion and desperation among the Israeli population to know if relatives were dead, taken hostage or missing for other reasons. “The first priority was victim identification,” Halperin-Kaddari explains, adding that, due to the overload of corpses to be examined, in many cases examinations were too late for collecting forensic evidence of rape. Another complicating factor was the lack of personal testimony, as the vast majority of suspected victims of rape were also murdered. Of those who survived, a number are believed to be hostages, or are not ready to speak about their ordeal. There was a further reason why investigations into sexual violence lagged, says Halperin-Kaddari. It was not part of the protocol. Israeli procedure for dealing with a victim of a terror attack did not enquire into the possibility of rape. Never before had rape been identified as a weapon of war used by Hamas. But why, as reports of sexual violence began to emerge within a week of October 7, did it take so long for them to be acknowledged by the United Nations and by international justice groups and women’s organisations? The crescendo of voices now protesting the silence surrounding the sexual violence perpetrated by Hamas on October 7 has included academics, women’s rights activists, and first-responders. On social media, the slogan “Me Too unless you are Jew” signals the distressing view that the women’s rights movement has betrayed Israeli and Jewish women. Halperin-Kaddari believes that part of the problem is that too many people are ‘hardwired’ to view the conflict through a lens that depicts Israelis as aggressors and Palestinians as perpetual victims. Israel’s military response and the ensuing war in Gaza seemed to reinforce this in the minds of many who eschew the complexities. In Halperin-Kaddari’s view, it was this ingrained impression that likely prevented those who would normally be attentive to rape allegations from acknowledging the mounting evidence and calling for a full investigation into the claim that on October 7 Hamas used brutal forms of gendered-based sexual violence as a weapon of war. Thankfully, UN Women has now made a clear statement and the official investigation is underway. According to Halperin-Kaddari, while it is difficult to establish the case without surviving victims, the evidence is there, including information that points to the premeditation of the attacks. There is the testimony of first responders on the scene, those who collected the bodies or who received the victims at hospitals and morgues, as well as photographic evidence. Repetitive scenes, witnessed in multiple locations, indicate widespread acts of sexual violence: bodies stripped of clothes, torn underwear, bleeding from the genitals, broken pelvises, mutilated and eviscerated sexual organs, bodies of women and girls who had been shot in the breast, vagina, face or head, often multiple times. There is also eye-witness testimony of gang rape of unspeakable brutality and the admissions of captured Hamas militants saying that they had orders to ‘dirty’ the Israeli women, or ‘to whore them’. So, why should this horrific subject find space in a blog devoted to issues of Christian-Jewish relations? Clearly, our interfaith commitments must never be sanitised slogans or window dressing; Christian relations with Jews demands concrete action and falls squarely into the category of what it means to be “a just neighbour” against the backdrop of the parable of the Good Samaritan. This is especially the case in light of the fraught history of Christian relations with the Jewish people, remembering that Nazi atrocities against Jews were too often met by the silence of Christians who turned a blind eye to, or even collaborated with, the persecution of their Jewish neighbours. This must not happen again. Professor Halperin-Kaddari sheds light on a specific moment in our own present-day story where violence against women calls for protest, in the context of October 7 being the largest systematic slaughter of Jews in a single day since the Holocaust. So, I ask members of my own church community, where are the voices of Catholic feminists? Will they condemn Hamas’ atrocities? Will they be a voice for the voiceless, in this case, for the Israeli, mainly Jewish, victims of rape who cannot speak? Will they advocate for the return of the hostages, including the 17 women between the ages of 20 and 40 who remain in captivity and at risk of abuse at the hands of Hamas? It is heartening to hear the voices of those courageous Muslim women who have recently spoken out against Hamas' atrocities and the weaponising of rape on October 7. I am listening to hear the voices raised from the Catholic sisterhood too. The oft-repeated declaration, “Never again” (to the past atrocities of the Nazis) should not be an empty platitude. Protesting the gender-based atrocities of October 7 is one way to show that we mean what we say. ************* Teresa Pirola, ThD is a freelance writer and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press/Stimulus, 2023). Image: Destruction in Beeri after the Hamas attack on October 7, 2023. Source: Zeev Stein Pikiwiki Israel, Wikimedia Commons Participate in "Never Again Is Now", a public rally against antisemitism to be held in Sydney, 18 February 2024. Learn more. Participate in an online prayer initiative for those held hostage by Hamas.

By Teresa Pirola and Julie McCrossin AM Historically, theologically and morally, the nativity scene of ‘baby Jesus in the rubble’ must be handled with care. It can be a beautiful image that speaks of God’s closeness to Palestinian children suffering in Gaza. Or it can become an antisemitic icon. In the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Bethlehem, where Christmas celebrations have been subdued due to the Hamas-Israel war, a baby Jesus figurine rests in a ‘crib’ of broken rubble, as a symbol of solidarity with children in war-ravaged Gaza. For Christians it is a deeply moving image, widely shared on social media, and in many ways communicates the significance of the baby Jesus, the Christ-child, according to Christian understanding: God enters human history in the form of a vulnerable child born into a dangerous world and, in doing so, embraces the fragile humanity of every person — including vulnerable Palestinian children trapped in the horrors of war. As a Christian image, then, ‘baby Jesus in the rubble’ operates in a similar way to countless nativity scenes around the world which have depicted the Christ-child in the imagery of their culture and time and place. Baby Jesus can be found lying in a cattle trough in outback Australia, in a dreamtime scene of Aboriginal art, in a woven basket surrounded by African tribal figures, in the arms of Mary wearing an Indian sari, and, yes, wrapped in a Palestinian keffiyeh amid symbols of war-torn Gaza. While these expressions of inculturation point to the universal significance of the Christ-child and the meaning of ‘Emmanuel’ (‘God with us’), they also harbour certain risks. Universal meaning is not meant to eclipse the particular realities of the nativity story. If not handled discerningly, ‘baby Jesus in the rubble’ can end up distorting the Christmas message and doing harm where good is intended. Before going further, let’s acknowledge that a nativity scene situated in modern-day Bethlehem has its own unique power to share the message of Christmas. It is in Bethlehem that Christian pilgrims from all over the world normally flock to pray at the traditional site of Jesus’ birth. Set in the Holy Land, it carries sacred memory and leads us to ponder the ancient roots of the church, a community that drew together both Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus. Today, Bethlehem lies in the West Bank which is home to three million Palestinians, of whom a tiny portion are Christians. Palestinian Christians in Bethlehem, who live under great pressures (for a range of reasons), are profoundly connected to the nativity story and have a special charism for sharing it with the Christian world. It is entirely understandable and appropriate that they would employ Palestinian symbols in a nativity scene set in their own cultural setting. However, care is needed in the reception of this image, widely shared around the globe. Palestinian imagery in a nativity scene should not lead to negating the Jewishness of the historical Jesus and his appearance via the story of ancient Israel. The historical Jesus was not a Christian, not a Muslim, not Greek or Roman, he was a Galilean Jew. Scripture and scholarship continue to impress upon us the importance of understanding Jesus of Nazareth within the framework of first century Judaism: Jesus was born and circumcised as a Jew, his faith was shaped by Torah and centred on the God of Israel, he was raised in Jewish traditions, celebrated the Sabbath and the Passover, frequented the synagogue, went up to the Temple in Jerusalem for Jewish festivals, and engaged as a Jew in everyday discourse. The Gospel writers themselves never call into question Jesus’ Jewish identity. As theological statements, rather than strictly historical or biographical writings, the Gospels make abundantly clear that the One proclaimed to be Messiah is a son of Israel, enmeshed in the story, traditions, scriptures and land of his Jewish ancestors. Thus, baby Jesus is born of a Jewish mother, “in Bethlehem of Judea” according to the infancy narratives (Mt 2:1; cf. Lk 2:4). Precisely because it was important to the Gospel authors to communicate the Good News while emphasising Jesus’ Jewishness, it is incumbent upon Christians to honour their testimony and to do the same, so as to give faithful witness to authentic Christian tradition. While the term Palestina was in use at the time of Jesus, it referred to a geographical region in a general way, without precise definition. It did not refer to a specific polity or administrative area. Nor did any national or ethno-cultural group claim it as a form of self-identification. Jesus and his kin did not define themselves as “Palestinians”. The term is not found in the New Testament, but other names, associated with Jewish history, are: such as ‘Judea’ and ‘the land of Israel’. It was only after the bloody, crushing defeat of the Jewish uprising led by Shimon Bar Kokhba, and the mass expulsion of Jews from their homeland in 135 CE, that Judea was renamed Syria-Palestina by the Roman victors. As obvious as it is that Jesus was a Jew, it needs to be said, because there are forces at work in the world - whether through malice, ignorance or reinterpreted religious symbolism - that air-brush Jesus’ Jewish identity from the pages of history and from the Christian narrative. In social media feeds in the days of the recent Christmas season, posts by certain Islamic preachers claim Jesus to be a Muslim by faith. Elsewhere, social media is awash, in image and song, with Christians drawing every parallel possible with life in Gaza in order to present the nativity story through a Palestinian lens: “If Jesus was born today, he would be born under the rubble of Gaza”, states one Christian pastor. Yet the writers of the Gospel infancy narratives placed Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, for good reason. Through the lens of Jewish scripture and tradition, they understood Bethlehem to be the birthplace of Israel’s King David and from where a messianic ruler was to come, from the line of David. While each social media post has to be evaluated individually, as a collective dynamic the obscuring of Jesus’ Jewish ethnicity and cultural-religious context poses a serious problem in societies where religious literacy is waning, and in churches with a long history of supersessionism, that is, of spreading the erroneous idea that Israel is “replaced” by the Church and therefore Judaism rendered obsolete. A single social media post featuring ‘baby Jesus in the rubble’ as a Palestinian infant is one thing; but a deluge of the same, circulating in a cyber ‘bubble’ with no balancing reminder of Jesus’ actual Jewishness or of the Jewish perspectives employed by the Gospels, is alarming. Distortions of the Christian message are inevitable, which feed into toxic theologies and then into the hands of extremists who seek to do terrible harm to Jewish people. Outright denial of Jesus’ Jewishness is already a tactic of hard-core antisemites today. We would do well to remember that negation of Jesus’ Jewishness was a manoeuvre in Nazi Germany where Christian supersessionist theologies were manipulated by Nazi ideology to redefine Jesus as an Aryan, and where the so-called ‘Aryan race’ was championed in violent opposition to those with Jewish ancestry. Following the end of World War II, as the horrific crimes of the Holocaust came into clear view, the Catholic Church and other mainstream Churches took decisive strides to address the antisemitic errors and sins of their past. They repudiated false notions such as an Aryan Jesus or a Jesus who rejected his own people and tradition. They embraced the Jewishness of Jesus as core to the Christian proclamation: to speak of God’s word incarnate in Jesus, is to say that the infinite God took human form in the flesh-and-blood earthly life of a particular Jew, “born of a woman, born under the law” (Gal 4:4). God’s gift of liberating love is offered universally by way of a particular people, the people of Israel—their history, homeland, traditions, stories and sacred texts. It is imperative that this corrective path of understanding continue to be walked by present-day Christians. In the words of Pope John Paul II, “Whoever meets Jesus Christ meets Judaism” (Mainz, 1980). The French Cardinal Jean Marie Lustiger (1926-2007) once wrote that “Christ himself, the figure of Christ in its reality, can assume every face of humanity, but that can happen only because he is first of all the individual who was born in Bethlehem of Judea”.[1] It is when the historical and biblical particularities of the Jesus story are denied — or downplayed in such a way as to the obliterate Judaism from the Christian narrative — that ‘baby Jesus in the rubble’ becomes counterproductive as a Christmas image. We are not suggesting this is the intention of the creators, but in a social media age there are myriad ways for it to be used and mis-used around the world. ‘Baby Jesus in the rubble’ is also problematic when accompanied by the words of a sermon or a social media post that lack compassion or, worse, express hatred, for Israelis and Jews. Here, the keffiyeh ‘swaddling clothes’ becomes a politicised symbol of support for Hamas and rejection of the state of Israel. Jesus is presented as identifying with suffering Palestinian children, but not with suffering Israeli or Jewish children attacked, tortured, kidnapped, murdered by Hamas. In effect, this denies God’s justice for and loving embrace of all Israeli and Jewish children at a time when they most need to feel it, for their lives too are deeply traumatised and affected by the conflict in ways overlooked in much of the public discourse about the war in Gaza. Further, there is an insidious religious problem that lurks when ‘baby Jesus in the rubble’ is weaponised politically. If Jesus is identified with Palestinian children killed by the Israeli Defence Forces (comprised mainly of Jews) in fighting Hamas, then it can be a dangerously short slide for faith-based analogies to say that baby Jesus is killed by the IDF (mainly Jews), which would seem to echo the age-old deicide charge (“the Jews killed Jesus”), one of the most toxic distortions of the gospel message in church history.[2] This is the way of antisemitism. It is a virus that mutates. Defeated in one era, it re-emerges in another time and setting. It is the same poison in a different guise. It is violence towards Jews dressed up as something seemingly innocuous, or even noble — in this case, as a Christmas message about God’s love for Palestinian children. No one is doubting God’s love for and closeness to Palestinian children! It is the subtle distortion and manipulation of that message that is being probed here. To sum up, we recap the following points: Christians are called to be discerning in their use of Christmas symbols, truthful about the historical origins of Christianity, and awake to the Jewishness of their Saviour which leaps off the pages of their bible. Christians need to be theologically aware, knowing that the universal ‘Good News’ they proclaim is inseparable from the particularity of the Jew Jesus, born a son of Israel, of a people with an ancient tradition and a long-established bond with the land we call holy. Christians have a moral responsibility to inform themselves so as to better understand antisemitism, what it is and how it is manifested, and to be alert to its ever-mutating guises. If they do not, they run the risk of unwittingly buying into well-worn antisemitic tropes and dynamics. Jews end up being betrayed and harmed, yet again, by the Church. Historically, theologically and morally, the image of ‘baby Jesus in the rubble’ must be handled with care. It can be a beautiful, poignant and challenging image that speaks of God’s saving love and closeness to all people in their human fragility, including Palestinian children suffering in a war zone. Or it can become an antisemitic icon and a travesty of the Christmas message. **************** Teresa Pirola, ThD is a Sydney-based Catholic writer and faith educator. Julie McCrossin AM is an Australian radio broadcaster, journalist and speaker who lives in Adelaide and is a member of a Uniting Church community. Image: ‘Christ in the rubble’ nativity scene at the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Bethlehem. Notes: [1] J.M. Lustiger, Choosing God – Chosen by God (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1991), 64. Quoted in Achim Buckenmaier, ‘Not Just Any Child, But That Special Child’, Jewish-Christian Relations: Insights and Issues in the Ongoing Jewish-Christian Dialogue, 30 April 2016, accessed at the website of the International Council of Christians and Jews, https://www.jcrelations.net/articles/article/not-just-any-child-but-that-special-child.html [2] Massimo Faggioli also raises this concern in “The effects of the Israel-Hamas war on Jewish-Catholic relations”, La Croix International (4 January 2024), https://international.la-croix.com/news/signs-of-the-times/the-effects-of-the-israel-hamas-war-on-jewish-catholic-relations/18960. (c) Light of Torah, 2024. This article may be freely reproduced with for non-commercial use with acknowledgment.

Amidst so much suffering in our world, the fact remains that there are people who continue to get up each day, every day, and apply themselves to the task of bringing hope and healing to the human family. People like these are light to the world. They are truly light to the world. We can look to them as beacons of hope and guidance in the way of peace. One impressive example, especially at this time, is Hand in Hand, a growing network of bilingual schools in Israel where students from both Jewish and Arab families are educated together in a vision of building communities of inclusion and equality. Learn more about Hand in Hand, and about how these teachers, parents and students are remaining steadfast in their commitment to their vision of peaceful solidarity, and to one another, amidst the tensions and trauma following October 7. Supporting Hand in Hand is one practical way to support and nurture the cause of peace. Teresa Pirola is a freelance writer and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press/Stimulus, 2023)

Homily prompts for remembering Israelis in our hearts and prayers this Christmas As Christian homilists finetune their Christmas messages for 2023, words and images highlighting the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza, and in Bethlehem in the West Bank too, loom front and centre, along with prayers for peace in the troubled holy land. One poignant image circulating Christian networks is the figure of the Christ-child lying in a manger of concrete rubble. As a depiction of the Christmas crib, it is indeed a powerful image. There is no doubt that Palestinians, including our own Christian brothers and sisters in Gaza and the West Bank, along with many more Palestinian Muslims suffering as casualties of the war in Gaza, deserve our heartfelt concern, love and prayers. At any time, and certainly at Christmas. At the same time, let not our well-intentioned messages be subtly twisted into subliminal messages of hatred or lack of empathy for Jews and Israelis. Let's not oversimplify the bloodied, anguished complexities of the war in Gaza by overlooking the goodness of ordinary Israelis and the brutalities they have suffered at the hand of Hamas. Among the Israelis murdered or kidnapped on October 7 there were those who had spent their lives trying to build the foundations for peace and had been actively involved in humanitarian outreaches to Palestinians in Gaza. Yes, let’s pray for peace. Let us grieve for the suffering of innocents in Gaza. Let us advocate for justice for Palestinians, for a safe and secure home for their children to grow and thrive in peace. And let us also be credible witnesses to the suffering of Israelis who are so often denied their right to live in their own State in peace and security. Let us be advocates for justice for Jewish people everywhere in the face of the worst outbreak of antisemitism since the days of Nazi propaganda and their accompanying atrocities. In what follows, I write from the premise that no Christian homilist needs reminding of the horrors of war that are being experienced by the Palestinian population in Gaza. We hear and see their terrible suffering detailed every day in the secular and religious press. However, Christian homilists may need reminding to speak words of compassion for Israelis and for Jews. They may need reminding that October 7 was not just a day; it was a massive act of terrorism that continues to unfold in the lives of countless innocent Israelis and in the lives of Jewish families around the world who have been profoundly affected. No Christian homilist needs reminding of the horrors of war that are being experienced by the Palestinian population in Gaza... However, Christian homilists may need reminding to speak words of compassion for Israelis and for Jews. Our remembrance of Israelis and Jews at Christmas time in 2023 could include any of the following facts: The child in the manger is a Jewish child, born in the homeland of the Jewish people, a people torn from their land by the Romans, exiled for 2,000 years, and persecuted through the centuries, including in Christian societies. The antisemitic and genocidal forces that, historically, have wreaked havoc in the lives of Jews and in the cause for peace, were at work again in unspeakable ways on 7 October 2023 in peaceful communities in southern Israel. What occurred on October 7 in Israel was a major pogrom (mob violence) of premeditated murder, torture, mutilation and abduction of civilians, including sexual violence against Israeli women and girls of extraordinary ferocity. The traumatic impact of these atrocities continues in the lives of those victims who survived and for the families of all victims. E.g., Homes are being found for Israeli children who lost both parents on October 7 and who witnessed their parents’ murder. Many more have lost one parent, through death or kidnapping. Psychological trauma is part of the unseen wounds carried by Israelis, children and adults alike, especially in light of the history of the Holocaust. The entire Israeli population directly affected by these events, in what were the townships and small communities bordering Gaza, have been displaced since October 7. They cannot return to their homes, even if they were to be rebuilt. While Hamas remains in power in Gaza, they can no longer live safely in their own homes. As well as the ongoing attacks from Gaza, Israelis elsewhere in their country are living under the threat of attacks from Hezbollah in the north and the aggression of Iran-aligned Houthi rebels in maritime settings in the south. Violent unrest in the West Bank is also part of the picture. On October 7, more than 240 men, women, children and a nine-month-old baby were taken hostage by Hamas. An estimated 129 remain in captivity, while the remainder are either recovering from their traumatic ordeal since their release, or they have been killed. Each of the hostages has a family and community that is gravely impacted by their abduction. Israelis have been attending funeral after funeral as they mourn the deaths of victims of October 7, the deaths of sons and daughters in the army and the deaths of hostages. They also mourn the devastating loss of Palestinian lives in war, and the death of dreams for peace. Vivian Silver was one of the 1200 murdered on October 7. She was an Israeli peace activist devoted to causes seeking justice for Palestinians. In her spare time, she drove Palestinians in Gaza to Israeli hospitals to obtain life-saving medical treatment. Since October 7, Jewish communities around the world have been subjected to unprecedented levels of antisemitic violence, harassment and hate speech. In Australia, antisemitic incidents have surged by 738 percent since October-November the previous year. Our Jewish friends and most Israelis won’t be celebrating Christmas — it is not their tradition. But it would be a terrible injustice and distortion of the gospel, to airbrush them out of our Christmas messages – or worse, to refer to them in negative ways - and to speak only of compassion for Palestinian Christians and Muslims. May our Christmas messages this year be inclusive, loving and wise. Photo: A different kind of image of 'mother and child': Terrified mother, Shiri Bibas, is seen being taken hostage, along with her baby Kfir and 4-year-old son Ariel. They have not returned from Gaza. Source: Set Them Free To participate in a prayer initiative for the hostages held by Hamas, go to change.org Teresa Pirola is a Catholic freelance writer, and author of Catholic-Jewish Relations: Twelve Key Themes for Teaching and Preaching (Paulist Press/Stimulus, 2023).