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As the Book of Genesis draws to a close, we find the elderly Jacob and his sons and their families still living in Egypt, having gone there to survive a famine. These final chapters contain two deathbed scenes: that of Jacob and his son Joseph. Both of them die what we might call ‘a good death;’ surrounded by family, mentally alert, able to impart blessings, say their ‘goodbyes’ and tie up loose ends. Not every family is so lucky. Even so, the history of tensions in Jacob’s and Joseph’s family life continue to emerge in these passages. Read the story for yourself, especially Genesis 47 and 50:14-26, then let’s explore the text with the help of wisdom from Jewish interpretative traditions. When Israel’s time to die drew near, he summoned his son Joseph and said to him, “If I have but found favour in your sight, please put your hand under my thigh and treat me with faithful kindness; please do not bury me in Egypt.” (Genesis 47:29) [Note: Jacob is also called ‘Israel.’ ‘Your hand under my thigh’ = make an oath.] The word na, often translated as ‘please,’ is repeated here in the Hebrew text. Why this repetition, this insistence? Verse 30 tells us that Jacob wishes to be buried in the same place as his parents, grandparents and wife Leah; i.e., in the land of Canaan. Can you relate to his heartfelt wish? Why else does Jacob desire burial in Canaan? As we read on, Jacob repeats the blessing given to his ancestors: “I will give this land [Canaan] to your seed after you as an everlasting possession” (48:4). Despite the long sojourn in Egypt, the Torah never loses sight of the fact that the destiny of Jacob’s progeny is the land promised by God. The same theme appears in Joseph’s dying wish: "When God brings you out of Egypt, swear to me you will carry my bones out with you" (See 50:24-25.) It will be many generations before Joseph’s last wish is fulfilled (see Exodus 13:19). Ponder this heartfelt connection Jacob and Joseph have with the Promised Land. The death of a patriarch or matriarch can be unsettling for those left behind as they adjust to the new family reality and re-negotiate roles. Our Torah text reveals such a situation. Realising that their father Jacob is dead, Joseph’s brothers fear that they are unprotected. They say: “Perhaps Joseph still bears us enmity and intends to repay us for all the harm we inflicted upon him!” So they brought a charge to Joseph, saying, “Your father left this charge before his death...‘Thus shall you say to Joseph: Please, I beg of you, forgive the transgression of your brothers and their sin, though they inflicted harm upon you’.” (Genesis 50:15-17) But, say the commentators, here’s the problem: There is no evidence that Jacob ever said this! A lie! Is Joseph about to be mistreated by his brothers again? Is a family feud about to be reignited? How does Joseph respond? The Torah tells us that “Joseph wept as they spoke to him” (50:17). He then reassures his brothers of his forgiveness and his confidence in God who brings good from every situation. Once again Joseph meets a crisis point with mature faith and compassion. Reflection Before dying, Jacob and Joseph were able to bless their families and say goodbye. Has this been your family’s experience, or have you had the opposite experience - perhaps a life brutally cut short without warning? Share a thought. Pray for deceased family members. Reflect on the place of forgiveness and acceptance amid the family tensions that can often accompany the events of a loved one's dying and eventual death. • Bibliography: Goldstein (ed.), The Women’s Torah Commentary (Woodstock, 2000); Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary, rev. ed. (New York, 2006); Schorsch, Canon Without Closure (New York, 2007). Scripture: Plaut. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net Reproduction permitted for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website. Download the PDF version. Light of Torah is a grassroots ministry based in the Catholic community in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayechi (Genesis 47:28 - 50:26), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.

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

Pharaoh further said to Joseph, “See, I put you in charge of all the land of Egypt” (Genesis 41:41). By the end of Genesis 41 one can’t help but be impressed by the dramatic reversal of Joseph’s fortunes. From being a victimised adolescent, betrayed and sold into slavery by his own brothers, then unjustly thrown into in an Egyptian prison, he has now risen to the heights of power in the Egyptian court, second only to Pharaoh. As the story unfolds he marries into Egyptian royal circles and fathers two sons. In his newfound social status, he has the upper hand over his brothers. To top it off, he has discovered his beloved father, Jacob, to be alive. Surely things can’t get better than this, the ultimate success story and happy ending! But the Jewish sages caution us to consider the subtleties. Like dark clouds gathering in an otherwise blue sky, there are disturbing rumblings in the sacred text. Perhaps the most obvious is the dangerous ‘cat and mouse’ game Joseph plays with his brothers. Concealing his true identity, he threatens them, then holds out hope of saving them from famine, then threatens their lives, then saves again. Strategically he leaves them perplexed, powerless, and very afraid. Meanwhile, his father, elderly and emotionally beaten, sits at home resigned to the worst possible outcome for his family. And there are other rumblings too—such as the ambiguous passage where Joseph names his sons Manasseh and Ephraim (41:51-52). The meaning given for each name leaves us wondering whether the choice of names indicates Joseph to be acutely aware of his Hebrew origins, or doing his best to forget. Nor can we help but notice that Joseph seems well assimilated into Egyptian society. By marrying a woman of Egypt, a polytheistic society, could Joseph be risking his faith in the God of his ancestors? This latter thought so alarmed the Jewish sages that an imaginative storytelling tradition was woven around the identity of Joseph’s wife. According to the midrash, his wife was not an Egyptian after all, but rather his niece, the daughter of his sister Dinah, secretly adopted by an Egyptian family! Thus was Joseph married into his own people.[1] Moving to modern day commentary, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (1948-2020),[2] observes that despite the success and towering influence of Joseph, it is not by his name that God’s chosen people came to be identified in history. Rather, they are named after Jacob’s new identity: ‘Israel’. And later the ancient Israelites came to be known as Yehudim (‘Jews’), after the tribe of Judah. It is from Judah’s lineage, not Joseph’s, that King David (and the Messiah) descends. Judah never equals the social status of his brother Joseph. Nor is he called HaTzaddik (‘the righteous one’) as Jewish tradition refers to Joseph. What, then, is Judah’s outstanding quality upon which the Jewish nation is built? It is his willingness to repent, to return to the right path after sin. This is evident in Tamar’s story (Genesis 38) and becomes increasingly clear as the Joseph saga proceeds. Looking ahead to the epic events of Exodus, the Bible reveals Joseph’s rise to power to be a mixed blessing; for the day will come when Egypt will no longer be a safe haven for the Israelites. Despite Joseph’s revered status, the Jewish sages are wary of embracing Joseph’s fortunes without question. The Scriptures draw us to ponder both the blessing and entrapment of riches, fame and sudden success. Have you a story to share along these lines? How does Joseph’s ‘success story’ speak to you? • 1. Several midrashic sources carry this story. See Elie Munk, The Call of the Torah (New York: Mesorah, 1994), 550-551. 2. Jonathan Sacks, Covenant & Conversation (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2009), 311-314. © Teresa Pirola, 2011. 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 in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Mikeitz (Genesis 41:1 - 44:17), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! The eight-day Jewish festival of Hanukkah this year commenced on the evening of 28 November 2021, coinciding with the start of the Christian Advent season. Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.

Chapter 37 of Genesis begins the saga of Jacob and his children. We soon learn that seventeen year old Joseph is the favoured, gifted child, the dreamer who is given a special robe (‘of many colours’ say some translations). But he is also perceived as lording his gifts over others (37:2-9). His brothers hate him for it, and even his doting father is concerned (37:10-11). One day, Jacob sends Joseph to check on his brothers who are pasturing sheep at Shechem. On his way Joseph meets a man who asks him a question and points him in the direction of his brothers. What happens next is a complete breakdown in family relations. Joseph is betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, and taken to Egypt. While tragic, it is also a decisive turning point in the story of God’s chosen people. As Genesis unfolds, Joseph’s path ultimately saves his family from death during a famine. It also leads to the enslavement of future generations... giving way to the epic events of Exodus. All this you can read in Genesis. Of particular interest here, however, is the stranger who Joseph encounters on his way to that fateful meeting with his brothers. A man found him wandering in the fields; the man asked him, ‘What are you seeking?’ ‘I am seeking my brothers,’ he said. (Genesis 37:15-16) Who is this unnamed man who appears out of nowhere and disappears from the story just as elusively? Why does the Torah record this conversation? Consisting of just two verses, the conversation is easy to overlook. Yet, as the Jewish sages are so fond of demonstrating, when we ‘slow down’ our bible reading and ponder even tiny details, God’s Word communicates powerful meanings. Where else does an unnamed man enter the bible story? In Genesis 32 Jacob wrestles with a mystery man, thought to be angel. Is the man who questions Joseph also a divine representative? Is there more to his question “What are you seeking?” than immediately apparent? Is this a question to be answered by the reader? The text tells us that Jacob sends Joseph “from the valley of Hebron” (37:14). ‘But isn’t Hebron on a mountain?’ asks Rashi, the 11th century Torah scholar. Why would the Torah describe it as a valley? Rashi answers that the text signifies that from this moment the depths of God’s designs are being realized. In fact, the Hebrew words for ‘valley’ (e’mek), ‘profound’ (a’mok), ‘deep’ (o’mek) share the same root. Why is this such a significant moment? Humanly speaking, it is significant for Joseph. From the status of a spoilt teenager found ‘wandering’ [another translation: ‘blundering’] in the fields, he begins the painful journey to maturity, even rising to power in Pharaoh’s household. Will he find what he is truly seeking? On another level, this moment is highly significant for the history of Israel. As the sages observe: On this day, the exile of Egypt began. The day Jacob unknowingly sends Joseph to near-death at the hands of his brothers, events are set in motion that will lead the Israelites to exile in Egypt and their consequent liberation which remains central to Jewish faith, and to Christian faith too. In what appears as chance encounters, God’s designs are perfected. By now we can see that Joseph’s encounter with a divine figure signifies a dramatic ‘pause’ in the sacred story. The Torah affords us a moment to ‘catch our breath’ and reflect on the hand of God guiding human events. Are we awake to the sacred ‘pauses’ in our own lives? • Reflection: Sometimes people appear in our lives for a short time, they awaken us to important truths, open doors, point the way...Then they are gone, leaving us with a sense of being in a ‘new’ place and on a divinely ordained journey. Have you had an experience like this? Bibliography: Herczeg, ed., The Torah: With Rashi’s Commentary (New York, 1999); Munk, The Call of the Torah (New York, 1994). Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2011. 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 in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayishev (Genesis 37:1 - 40:23), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! The eight-day Jewish festival of Hanukkah this year commences on the evening of 28 November 2021, coinciding with the beginning of the season of Advent in many Christian Churches. More. Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.

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

Then Jacob kissed Rachel, and broke into tears” (Genesis 29:11). Thus begins the love story of Jacob and Rachel in the book of Genesis. The setting for their first encounter is a well (Genesis 29:1-14). Rachel is there tending her father’s sheep, whereas Jacob has just arrived, having fled his home in Beersheba after causing a major family upset. His brother Esau wants to kill him so, on the advice of his mother Rebekah, Jacob sets out on a journey to the household of Rebekah’s brother Laban who lives in Haran. While seeking his uncle, he stops at a well where a shepherdess named Rachel turns out to be Laban’s daughter. Jacob’s outburst of emotion upon seeing Rachel is puzzling, is it not? Why does he weep? Jacob’s outburst of emotion upon seeing Rachel is puzzling, is it not? Why does he weep? Sometimes it is interpreted romantically: ‘love at first sight.’ Indeed, in the creative interpretations of the Jewish tradition, the sages identify Rachel as the love of Jacob’s life, a love story marked by difficulties and sadness, including Rachel’s premature death. Says the revered Torah scholar Rashi, through divine inspiration Jacob foresaw that one day Rachel would not be buried with him—thus he wept. But perhaps there is another way to explain this verse, starting with the episode preceding the scene at the well. From where has Jacob just come? From a powerful encounter with the divine. During an overnight stop he has a dream in which the Lord God speaks to him of his destiny and role in the unfolding Abrahamic covenant. (Read the account of ‘Jacob’s Ladder’ in Genesis 28:10-22.) Upon waking, Jacob is awestruck by what has just occurred, his amazement beautifully phrased in verses 28:16-17. Even so, the revelation is also a confusing, disturbing experience. God promises ‘I will watch over you,’ yet Jacob knows he is a marked man in Esau’s eyes. God promises the gift of the Land, but Jacob is about to leave that Land to live in exile. God promises descendants, yet Jacob is leaving behind familial security. A moment filled with promise occurs amidst risk, danger, loss. This young man has a lot to process! Is it surprising then that by the time he reaches the well after a desert journey he is a mass on pent-up emotions? And what happens at the well? We may think it’s all about Rachel. But look carefully at the text: the most frequently mentioned person is Laban. In just three verses (9-12), Laban is referred to (by name, as father, as brother, as kinsman) no less than seven times. And in verse 10 reference to Laban’s identity as Rebekah’s brother is repeated twice. Repetition, teach the Jewish sages, should fire our interpretative energies. How might the Torah be speaking to us? When Jacob sets eyes on Rachel, who does he see? The love of his life, or the face of his kin? What does he feel? Romantic love, or the relief of reaching familial shelter? In the view of Rabbi S.R. Hirsch,[1] Jacob constantly carried with him the memory of his mother, Rebekah. In Rachel—Rebekah’s niece—he recognizes the living image of his mother. Yes, he also recognizes a potential spouse. But here too other dynamics may well be at work as Jacob is confronted by the realization that God’s promise of descendants is soon to be fulfilled... As noted earlier, this is a tumultuous time for the emotional-spiritual psyche of a young man who is both a fugitive and a servant of God—and at the sight of Rachel it all comes tumbling out. “Then Jacob kissed Rachel, and broke into tears” (Genesis 29:11). What do you think? Is this a plausible reading of the text? It is certainly one which leads us to ponder those times in life when spiritual, geographic and relational upheavals coincide. Do you have a story like that? How does the Torah speak to you? • 1. S.R. Hirsch: a leader in Jewish religious/educational life in 19th century Germany. See Munk, 390. Sources: Herczeg, ed., The Torah: With Rashi’s Commentary (New York, 1995, 1999); Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit (New York, 1994); Munk, The Call of the Torah (New York, 1994). Scripture: NJPS. © Teresa Pirola, 2011. 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 in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayetze (Genesis 28:10 - 32:3), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.

Genesis 26 tells a story from the adult life of Isaac. It is a story strikingly similar to a story about his father, Abraham, in Genesis 20. Like his father, Isaac receives the Lord’s blessing and prospers. Like Abraham, he goes to the land of Gerar to escape famine and has a similar exchange with the local king. Like his father, he digs wells and finds water... Read chapter 26, especially verses 1-18, and prayerfully ponder the details of the sacred text. After sharing your initial observations of Chapter 26 with a friend, let’s focus on a puzzling statement found in v.15: “Now the Philistines had filled with earth all the wells that his father’s servants had dug in the days of his father Abraham” (Gen. 26:15). Water is essential to sustaining life in the desert. The Philistines were as dependent as Isaac’s family on water for their survival. Why would they go to such lengths to block the wells, even having them ‘filled with earth’ which would effectively make them difficult to find again? Generations of Torah students have been intrigued by this question. What thoughts and insights do you bring to the discussion? The sheer insanity of the Philistines’ action has led some commentators to conclude that the story of the wells carries intense symbolism. As the patriarchs laboured to release life-sustaining water out of parched ground, they were also creating a flow of living faith in the midst of a land of idol worshippers. The action of the Philistines, then, symbolises the forces of hard-heartedness that seek to stop the lifegiving action of God, with deathly consequences. But what evidence from the text and tradition support this interpretation? Carefully revisit the text before reading on. “Isaac dug again the wells of water that had been dug in the days of his father Abraham...and he gave them the names that his father had given them” (v.18). Isaac digs for water, but not indiscriminately. He operates in the footsteps of Abraham, honouring the ways of his father. According to Jewish storytelling traditions, just as Abraham had named certain places with titles that reflected his relationship with God (see Gen. 21:31; 22:14), Abraham had named the wells in a similar fashion. Thus, in eradicating the wells the Philistines were attempting to extinguish the very mention of the God of Abraham. Amidst opposition, Isaac is persistent in recovering both the wells and their names. Like his father, his efforts bring forth what the Hebrew text calls mayim hayim: ‘living water.’ This is followed immediately by the Lord’s appearance to Isaac: “I am the God of your father Abraham...” with the added divine assurance, “Do not be afraid, for I am with you” (v.24). For reflection: Isaac sought to be faithful to the religious traditions of his father. What challenges have you experienced in your efforts to remain faithful to the traditions of your ancestors? A fragile relationship exists between human harmony and availability of the earth’s natural resources. Discuss in the light of Genesis 26. • Bibliography: Eskenazi & Weiss, eds., The Torah: A Women’s Commentary (New York, 2008); Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit (New York: Lambda); Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary (New York, 2006). Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. 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 based in the Catholic community in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Toledot (Genesis 25:19 - 28:9), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.

Genesis 26 tells a story from the adult life of Isaac. It is a story strikingly similar to a story about his father, Abraham, in Genesis 20. Like his father, Isaac receives the Lord’s blessing and prospers. Like Abraham he goes to the land of Gerar to escape famine and has a similar exchange with the local king. Like his father he digs wells and finds water... Read chapter 26, especially verses 1-18, and prayerfully ponder the details of the sacred text. After sharing your initial observations of Chapter 26 with a friend, let’s focus on a puzzling statement found in v.15: “Now the Philistines had filled with earth all the wells that his father’s servants had dug in the days of his father Abraham” (Gen. 26:15). Water is essential to sustaining life in the desert. The Philistines were as dependent as Isaac’s family on water for their survival. Why would they go to such lengths to block the wells, even having them ‘filled with earth’ which would effectively make them difficult to find again? Generations of Torah students have been intrigued by this question. What thoughts and insights do you bring to the discussion? The sheer insanity of the Philistines’ action has led some commentators to conclude that the story of the wells carries intense symbolism. As the patriarchs laboured to release life-sustaining water out of parched ground, they were also creating a flow of living faith in the midst of a land of idol worshippers. The action of the Philistines, then, symbolises the forces of hard-heartedness that seek to stop the lifegiving action of God, with deathly consequences. But what evidence from the text and tradition support this interpretation? Carefully revisit the text before reading on. “Isaac dug again the wells of water that had been dug in the days of his father Abraham...and he gave them the names that his father had given them” (v.18). Isaac digs for water, but not indiscriminately. He operates in the footsteps of Abraham, honouring the ways of his father. According to Jewish storytelling traditions, just as Abraham had named certain places with titles that reflected his relationship with God (see Gen. 21:31; 22:14), Abraham had named the wells in a similar fashion. Thus, in eradicating the wells the Philistines were attempting to extinguish the very mention of the God of Abraham. Amidst opposition, Isaac is persistent in recovering both the wells and their names. Like his father, his efforts bring forth what the Hebrew text calls mayim hayim: ‘living water.’ This is followed immediately by the Lord’s appearance to Isaac: “I am the God of your father Abraham...” with the added divine assurance, “Do not be afraid, for I am with you” (v.24). For reflection: Isaac sought to be faithful to the religious traditions of his father. What challenges have you experienced in your efforts to remain faithful to the traditions of your ancestors? A fragile relationship exists between human harmony and availability of the earth’s natural resources. Discuss in the light of Genesis 26. • Bibliography: Eskenazi & Weiss, eds., The Torah: A Women’s Commentary (New York, 2008); Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit (New York: Lambda); Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary (New York, 2006). Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. 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 based in the Catholic community in Australia, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Toledot (Genesis 25:19 - 28:9), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, courtesy of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.

'Sarah lived one hundred twenty-seven years; this was the length of Sarah’s life. And Sarah died in Kiriatharba (that is, Hebron) in the land of Canaan; and Abraham went in to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her.' (Genesis 23:1-2) These verses open a portion of the book of Genesis which, in the Jewish cycle of Torah readings, is known as ‘the life of Sarah’. It is a curious title considering that this Torah portion, extending over two chapters, opens with her death! Already we are being drawn into a fascinating question: how might the biblical stories that follow these verses, occurring after Sarah has died, be revealing of her life? How might the aftermath of Sarah's death be revealing of her life? One answer arises in the midrash, the creative storytelling traditions of Judaism. The midrash observes that Sarah’s death occurs just seven verses after one of the most compelling passages in the Bible: the Akedah (Gen.22:1-19), the story known to Jews and Christians respectively as the ‘binding’ or ‘sacrifice’ of Isaac. According to the Rabbis, the near-death of Isaac is such a traumatic event that, upon learning what her husband almost did to their son, Sarah dies of grief. [1] It is an arresting thought. In the face of a firm tradition by which both Jews and Christians esteem Abraham for his unwavering obedience to God’s command to offer Isaac as a sacrifice, the midrash throws a spanner in the works: Sarah’s grief. It is a grief so devastating that it sounds a ‘No’ to the forementioned event, or at least raises a serious doubt. Perhaps the path of obedience to divine commands is a little more complex than it first appears—not only for Sarah, but for Abraham. In this light, can we sense a deeper reason why Abraham’s mourning is recorded (Gen. 23:2, see top of this page)? Taking up this midrashic insight, present-day commentators such as Rabbi Rona Shapiro note that it opens the door to fresh insights into Abraham’s relationship with God. If we look closely at the Genesis narrative which continues after Sarah’s death, we see that Abraham is never quite the same person again. Previously his faith was characterized by large-scale, public events. In pursuit of his God he travelled to foreign lands, fought wars and mounted a dramatic rescue for his kidnapped nephew. He negotiated with kings, argued with God about justice for the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, and scaled a mountain to accomplish a horrifying feat for a faith-testing God. But after Sarah’s death, his activity changes. It is predominantly domestic: he buries his wife, he arranges a marriage for Isaac, he marries again and attends to the future of his children in such a way as to prioritize Isaac. Perhaps, says Rabbi Shapira, Abraham—through Sarah’s death—has heard a different divine voice: not theophany on a mountain top but the transformative power of relationships. He has heard a truth which, at her moment of death, Sarah understood with terrifying clarity: there is no special holiness to be found gazing at the stars if your own child’s life is at stake. Holiness is right here: at home, in the joys and struggles of everyday family life. Whether or not you favour this interpretation, I am sure you will agree that it raises challenging questions concerning the complexities of discerning God’s call… Food for thought, from inter-generational conversations around an ancient biblical text. • 1. Ecclesiastes Rabbah 9:7, §1 Bibliography: Bialik and Ravnitzky, eds., The Book of Legends (New York, 1992); Freedman and Simon, eds., Midrash Rabbah: Ecclesiastes (New York, 1983); Rona Shapiro, 'Chaye Sarah' in Goldstein, ed., The Women’s Torah Commentary (Woodstock, VT, 2000), 70-74. Scripture: NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2011. 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 arising from the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Chayei Sarah (Genesis 23:1 - 25:18), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, thanks to the generosity of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.

Recommended viewing: Difficult Texts Regarding “The Jews” in Matthew’s Gospel: A Socio-Political Framework Online Webinar from Sisters of Our Lady of Sion Australia This presentation explores the text known as the “blood curse” of Matthew’s Gospel (27:25) which has so often been misused over the centuries, causing harm to Jewish people. This is an opportunity to gain insight into the text drawing on sound Christian biblical scholarship in a post-Nostra Aetate context that fosters respectful relations between Christians and Jews. The presenter is Sr Celia Deutsch NDS, a sister of Our Lady of Sion and renowned biblical scholar and educator, currently Research Scholar in the Religion Department at Barnard College/Columbia University. An insightful response to her presentation is provided by Fr Chris Monaghan CP, President and Lecturer at Yarra Theological Union, Melbourne. The webinar will be of interest to teachers, pastoral associates and all lovers of the Word. Hosted by: Jewish-Christian Relations Team, Sisters of Our Lady of Sion, Australia, with support from Garratt Publishing.

Our focus this week is Genesis 22:1-19. In Christian tradition this passage is known as 'the sacrifice of Isaac'. In Jewish tradition it is known as 'the binding of Isaac'. The horror of the narrative grabs our attention and draws us into the text with understandable questions and objections: Why would God ask a father to sacrifice his own son? Many Christians are familiar with this reading as part of the Easter Vigil, and it also appears as part of the weekday morning service in many Jewish prayer books. What is so important about this passage to warrant its prominent placing in the liturgical traditions of both Jews and Christians? Read Genesis 22:1-19, then join the sages in a close reading of verses 3-4. “Abraham rose early, saddled his donkey, chopped wood for the burnt offering, took Isaac his son and his two lads, and set out for the place that God had spoken of to him. On the third day, Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place from afar” (Gen.22:3-4). Our Torah passage speaks of a three-day journey from Abraham’s home to the point where he can see his God-given destination. Do you notice anything odd about this part of the text? What is odd about this text? Perhaps you noticed that the Torah offers no detail about the three-day journey. Details about his preparation are aplenty: rising early, saddling his donkey, chopping wood, etc. But from the moment he is on his way: the text suddenly falls silent. Like a fast-forwarded video, the story skips to the end: “On the third day...” Think about that. Abraham has just set out with a horrific task: the sacrifice of his own son. He has three days, in the presence of his son, to consider what he is about to do. Surely, those days must have been filled with anguish! Surely, he must have undergone feelings of bewilderment, anger, doubt, pain... surely! And yet the text records nothing about the journey. No dialogue, no thoughts or feelings, no events, no geographical or human point of note. Prayerfully ponder this. How do you interpret the Torah’s silence? Are there some things that are ‘unspeakable’? Do they need to be voiced at all? Are there some things that are ‘unspeakable’? This silence bothered the sages deeply. In fact, in the midrash we find imaginative stories filling up the silence of those three days. According to one midrashic tradition—one that perhaps depicts the internal struggle of conscience—Abraham is visited during his journey by a satan, a tempter, who hurls at him one reason after another as to why he should abandon his journey. Abraham persists. Another tells how Abraham comes to a river crossing. The waters are dangerously high and Abraham has every excuse to turn around and go home. Instead, he plunges in up to his neck, and the waters recede. (What other water crossing comes to mind here?) Perhaps we are drawn to reflect on the ‘legitimate’ excuses that deter us from pursuing God’s call to its final conclusion. In this way, by being attentive to what is 'absent' in the text, the midrash prevents us from treating the story of Abraham’s faith as blind, robotic obedience. It leads us to a deeper, more sensitive contemplation of the human struggle involved in discerning and following God’s call. Far from being fanciful storytelling, the midrash voices the questions and insights of generations of believers as they encounter God’s living word.• Table topic: Join in the conversation of the sages. How does the text’s silence stimulate your engagement with the Torah? If you were to tell your own midrashic account about what happened during those three days, what would you say? Can you imagine Jesus wrestling with this sacred story as part of his own discernment and desire to do the will of the Father? Bibliography: Bialik & Ravnitsky, eds., The Book of Legends (New York: Schocken Books, 1992); Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit (New York: Lambda, 1994). Scripture: JPS, NRSV. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. 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 arising from the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Vayeira (Genesis 18:1 - 22:24), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! Download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, thanks to the generosity of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.

Lekh Lekha: “Go-you-forth” (Hebrew). These words of God launch Abraham (here called Abram) into a journey that has him leave his homeland and kin, to go “to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1). A straightforward command? The wisdom passed down through generations of Jewish Torah commentators reveals interpretative subtleties. E.g., “Go by yourself. This is one journey which must be made alone” (Hirsch); “Go to yourself, go to your roots, to find your potential” (Chasidic interpretation); “Go for yourself, for your pleasure and for your benefit. There, I will make of you a great nation; whereas here you do not merit having children…” (Rashi). Let's engage our biblical imaginations. Abraham, what did you hear that day? Ponder this question. Put yourself in the shoes of Abraham. What makes a wealthy man living in ancient Mesopotamia leave all that is familiar for the sake of a land and future as yet unknown? Is he, as stories from Jewish tradition suggest, spiritually restless? Can restlessness be a search for God? Can restlessness be a search for God? The Ramban (13th c. Jewish scholar) said that “one should love God with an excessive, powerful love, till one’s soul is totally involved in love of God, and one is constantly obsessed by it, as though ill with love sickness...” Does this describe Abraham? Does his restlessness reveal a passionate lover of God, prepared to risk all, to follow God anywhere? And what of Abraham’s wife, Sarah (here called Sarai)? We are told in Gen. 11:30 that “Sarai was barren; she had no child.” And yet four verses later, God is promising Abram, “I will make of you a great nation” (12:2)! Now doesn’t the text have you puzzling over that? Your puzzling is a clue that a powerful biblical insight is at hand... In rabbinic commentary we hear that “Wherever it is written ‘there is not’, there eventually is.”[1] Or, to quote a Christian biblical scholar of our own times: “Barrenness...is an effective metaphor for hopelessness. The marvel of biblical faith is that barrenness is the arena of God’s life-giving action.”[2] The marvel of biblical faith is that barrenness is the arena of God’s life-giving action. Just when the situation seems hopeless, the divine word breaks through, inviting a creative response. A husband and wife, cloaked in restlessness, disappointment, but also in hope, set out together for a far land. Lekh Lekha. They "go forth" with a new kind of faith in the God of surprises. Reflect Restlessness... wandering... disappointments... daring new adventures... how are these realities woven into your own story of life and faith? Can you relate to Abraham, to Sarah, and to the family left behind? Remember Resist the temptation to just "settle". Keep learning. Keep asking questions. Never give up. Keep an open mind and heart. No answer is ever final. The love of God opens up infinite possibilities. 1. Bereshit Rabbah 38:14 2. Walter Brueggemann, Genesis, (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1982), 116. This article is based on a teaching by Br Jack Driscoll CFC, PhD. © 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 arising from the Catholic community, encouraging Christians to reflect on Torah with the help of Jewish insights. More... The reflection above refers to Parashat Lekh Lekha (Genesis 12:1 - 17:27), the Torah portion read for this Sabbath in the Jewish liturgical cycle. Shabbat shalom! As we enter this new year of Torah, download your free Jewish and Christian Liturgical Calendar, thanks to the generosity of Etz Hayim-Tree of Life Publishing.