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The figure of Abraham is central to our Torah reflections this week (Genesis 12:1 - 17:27). Actually, as the story opens he is called Abram. Only later, in 17:5, will God change his name to Abraham. Read as much of the Torah portion as you can. It is an engaging narrative! Our intense focus, however, will be on those dramatic opening words of commissioning in Genesis 12:1. “Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you” (12:1). “Lekh lekha...” The Hebrew term can be variously translated: Go, go forth, travel, leave. These words introduce the story of one man whose decision to step out and follow a divine call changes the course of history. Not only does this mark the beginnings of Judaism, but from here two other faiths claiming Abrahamic roots will emerge: Christianity and Islam. Exactly what is it about this story that justifies its religious centrality? Who and what have led to this critical moment? If you have been reading Genesis to this point, you will recall the saga of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Noah and the flood. Against the backdrop of these characters and their behavior, what can you say about Abraham’s entrance centre-stage? Perhaps you noticed that the moral fibre of each of the previous characters displays serious flaws. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, a contemporary Jewish Torah commentator, observes that their flaw in common is evasion or abdication of responsibility. Do you agree? Think back on the preceding chapters of Genesis. Pool your knowledge with a havrutah partner (discussion/sparring partner). Revisit parts of Genesis if you need to recall a particular scene. Sacks, drawing on the interpretative traditions of Judaism, describes the character of Abraham from the moment of call through the chapters that follow. Unlike Adam (who blames Eve who blames the serpent), Abraham accepts personal responsibility in adhering to God’s word. (See 12:4) Unlike Cain (‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ 4:9) Abraham accepts moral responsibility, rescuing his brother’s son, Lot (Gen.14). Unlike Noah (who is silent when God announces the destruction of humanity), Abraham prays for the inhabitants of Sodom and asks God to spare them (Gen. 18). He accepts collective responsibility. In other words, Abraham, in resisting excuses and in his wholehearted response to the summons to ‘Go forth’ to a new land, charts a radical path in the history of humankind, one defined by a personal free choice to follow God without hesitation or reserve. • Reflection: Lekh lekha... Go forth... According to one Jewish (Hassidic) interpretation, Lekh lekha means “Go to yourself,” i.e., find that deep freedom planted within every human being, and set your moral compass from there. What excuses sometimes deter me when God says, “Go forth...”? Do my personal choices come from that deep place of inner freedom where I am truly ‘myself’ before God? Bibliography: Plaut, The Torah: A Modern Commentary, rev. ed. (NY: URJ Press, 2006); Sacks, Covenant and Conversation (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2009). Scripture: NRSV.

So, you think you know the story of Noah’s Ark? So did I until I began reading it with the help of traditional Jewish insights. The rabbis have taught me to slow down my reading, to pay attention to the surprising details of the text. Spread over four chapters in Genesis 6-9, there is a lot to ponder about the Great Flood. Take, for instance, Gen. 7:16. Have you ever noticed that this verse suggests that it was the Lord, not Noah, who shut the door of the ark behind its last passenger as the flood set in? After all that building on Noah’s part, the Lord closes the door. Why is this subtle point recorded? Does it really matter? What deeper spiritual meaning can be discerned here? By becoming attuned to the rabbinic mindset that savors the tiny details of God’s Word we discover fascinating gateways to contemplation and discussion. I will leave it to you to ponder the closing of the door of the ark. Let’s turn our attention here to the flood waters themselves. The rise of the waters in Genesis 7 finds dramatic telling through the use of repetition: The waters increased... (v.17) The waters swelled and increased exceedingly upon the earth...(v.18) When the waters had swelled exceedingly, yes exceedingly upon the earth... (v.19) Fifteen cubits upward swelled the waters... (v.20)1 With each rising level, something happens: the ark is lifted (v.17), it floats (v.18), the mountains are covered (v.19) and covered in a final way (v.20). Imaginatively ponder these verses. How does God’s Word speak to you through the dramatic images, repeated words, rhythmic phrasing? Biblical scholars remind us of two things that sharpen our appreciation of this scene. First, in the ancient view of the universe, the earth existed in a kind of habitable bubble holding back waters above and below. Now the ground ruptures, the skies crack open (see 7.11), the waters break through and the very structure of the universe is compromised. This is not just rain, it is cosmic crisis! Secondly, while we usually think of the ark as a boat, in biblical terms it is a rectangular box. It floats, but it has no rudder or sail. The fragility of Noah’s ark at the mercy of the elements is underscored. And as if to drive home the utter helplessness of the situation, after describing the death of all living things (7:21-23) the text presents this curious phrase: Noah alone remained... (7:23). It is curious because in the next breath we read, ‘and those who were with him in the Ark.’ Clearly Noah is not the only living human. Why then the reference to ‘only Noah’? This question fired the discussion of the rabbis. How does it fire yours? What in particular about Noah is being suggested here? The great Torah scholar known as Rashi2 refers to a Jewish storytelling tradition (midrash) which, in its playful way, notes that the sound of the Hebrew word for ‘only’ (akh) is that of a person coughing or retching. In a creative leap, the midrash concludes that the phrase ‘only Noah’ is a reference to Noah’s diminished health. Why diminished? Because it takes a great deal of energy to care for an ark full of animals in the midst of cosmic catastrophe! (Apparently Noah was not only exhausted but bleeding from wounds inflicted by a hungry lion!) As we smile at the midrash we should not dismiss its depths. Notice how a single Hebrew word leads the rabbinic mind into a whole area of contemplation: the arduous effort and personal wellbeing of Noah during a great crisis. Taking up this midrashic lead we might well ask: what is my experience of enduring a great crisis? Do I identify with the ‘aloneness’ of Noah hinted at by verse 7:23? Am I exhausted and wounded through my labours to be faithful? Floods, after all, are real, and Noah’s Ark is a powerful symbol for many kinds of human crises: physical, moral, spiritual. • 1. English translation by E. Fox, The Five Books of Moses (New York: Schocken Books, 1995). 2. Rashi (11th c. France) discusses a midrashic text in Sanhedrin 108b, Tanchuma Yashan 14. See Herczeg, ed., The Torah: With Rashi’s Commentary (New York: Mesorah, 1999).

In the opening two chapters of Genesis the reader finds two different accounts of the creation of humankind. What are we to make of these differences? Read the two accounts closely in Genesis chapters 1 & 2, preferably with a friend, and with a pencil or highlighter to underline and circle key words, ideas, repetitions and poetic elements that strike you as unusual or interesting. So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it...” (Gen. 1:27-28) So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept; then he took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the Lord God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man. (Gen. 2:21-22) What do you notice as you compare the two stories of the creation of humankind? How would you describe the persona of Adam/Eve 1 compared to Adam/Eve 2? Perhaps you noted that Adam 1 is characterized by a decisive commissioning to ‘subdue’ the earth. He, along with his female counterpart, is a man of action, productivity, initiative. He is empowered by God to call the shots, in control of himself and his environment. Adam 2, on the other hand, although given authority over the animals, is immediately led into an experience of sacrifice and surrender. He is overpowered by God as he succumbs to sleep and relinquishes part of his own body in the creation of woman. Do you agree with these observations? What else did you observe in the text? How might we explain or reconcile these different Adams/Eves? If we were examining Genesis from an historical viewpoint we might suggest that the two stories represent two distinct storytelling traditions preserved in the text. But let’s set aside such theories here and hear instead from Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, an esteemed Torah scholar of the 20th century, who interprets Genesis with a compelling synthesis of traditional biblical wisdom and modern religious anthropology. According to Soloveitchik, in these Torah texts we see two kinds of instincts in the human person, both willed by God. God wants us to be both active and submissive, victory-bent and humble, disciplined and docile. Enshrined in our existence is a creative tension between self-expression and covenantal relationship; individuality and community. Thus Genesis reveals something of the mysterious, complex depths and paradoxes of the human person, setting humankind apart in the order of creation. • Table topic: Integrating the diverse qualities of the two Adams is the great challenge of human and spiritual growth. Can you name somebody who exhibits this integration? Discuss the challenge that Genesis 1-2 poses in your life. Do you most resemble Adam/Eve 1 or 2? Can you recognize the tension mentioned above in other biblical stories (e.g., the gospel story of Mary and Martha, Lk.10:38-42)? Bibliography: Joseph Soloveitchik, The Lonely Man of Faith (New York: Doubleday, 1965). Scripture: NRSV

Can Christian awareness of the Jewish festival Simchat Torah ('Rejoicing in the Torah') enliven their own Christian Bible reading? What is Simchat Torah? Simchat Torah (‘Rejoicing in the Torah’) is a one-day Jewish festival that comes at the end of the seven-day festival of Sukkot. In Israel the day coincides with another holiday called Shemini Atzeret (‘the Eighth Day of the Assembly’). Outside Israel the two holidays are treated as separate days. The focus of Simchat Torah is the centrality of Torah. For Jewish communities it marks the very last day of the annual Torah reading cycle. The next day, the cycle of Torah readings begins all over again with Genesis 1:1. In synagogues, Simchat Torah is celebrated with joyful dancing with the Torah. The conclusion of the Book of Deuteronomy is read in the synagogue followed by the opening words of the Book of Genesis. Thus there is an unbroken continuation of the annual cycle of Torah readings. Christian awareness Can awareness of Simchat Torah help our Christian Bible reading? Certainly, it can serve as a reminder of the centrality of Scripture in our own Christian lives and, in particular, the importance of the Hebrew Scriptures (our 'Old Testament’ or ‘First Testament’). Further, it deepens our appreciation of the unbreakable link between God, Torah and the Jewish people, and of the fact that Jesus himself was formed by the Torah traditions of Israel. "By taking part in the synagogue celebrations where the Old Testament texts were read and commented upon, Jesus also came humanly to know these texts; he nourished his mind and heart with them, using them in prayer and as an inspiration for his actions. Thus he became an authentic son of Israel, deeply rooted in his own people’s long history. - Pope John Paul II, Rome, 11 April 1997 Further, for those partaking in the annual Light of Torah journey and making their way through the ‘five books of Moses,’ the festival of Simchat Torah is a good time to take stock and review your Torah learning. This review is ideally done with your havrutah partner and others who have shared in your Torah learning. Gather over a meal, or a celebratory drink, and, together, remember your journey from Genesis to Deuteronomy, its ups and downs, progress and setbacks... how you set out, what you knew then, what you know now... how your attitudes (to Scripture, Tradition, life, faith, Judaism, Christianity) have been shaped in the company of the sacred text, Israel’s sages, and your Torah companions. 1. Deepest insight Name a treasured insight which the Torah revealed to you during this past year. How was it revealed; i.e., through what story, verse, commentator, method? 2. Favorite character Which biblical character especially came ‘alive’ for you? What about their personality and story captured your heart, thoughts, imagination? 3. Burning question The questions arising from our reading draw us into God’s Word. What is one question that continues to intrigue you? 4. Greatest difficulty Torah study is challenging for many reasons. What was one difficulty or obstacle you encountered? 5. Happiest moment Jewish tradition speaks of ‘rejoicing in the Torah’ (Simchat Torah). Share one of the joys of your Torah journey.

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

Exodus: that foundational story of God’s liberation of the Israelites from slavery and their formation as a nation. Exodus opens with the descendants of Jacob groaning under the yolk of oppression. Their long period of slavery in Egypt is never clearly explained in the Torah and we may well ponder the ‘why’? of this prolonged suffering. Did no divine/prophetic voice urge them to leave Egypt before it was too late? The Torah’s silence on this is indeed perplexing.... But let’s begin our exploration of Exodus with Chapter 1, digging into the biblical text in search of gems of ancient wisdom. Read Chapter 1 of Exodus slowly, carefully. Pay particular attention to details such as i) recurring themes, ii) connections with stories we have read previously in Genesis, iii) the use of names (and the absence of names), iv) surprising elements in the text. Beneath the surface of the narrative, what is God’s Word ‘saying’ to you? How do these ancient, sacred writings speak to your life, to your faith? No doubt you noticed that this chapter is permeated by a theme of fertility, birth, abundant life, unstoppable growth. The chapter opens by listing Jacob’s progeny. It goes on to describe their descendants, the children of Israel, using language found also in the creation account in Genesis 1: ‘fruitful,’ ‘teemed,’ ‘multiplied,’ ‘the land was filled with them.’ Note, too, the explicit references to the scene of birth in vv. 16, 19. And how surprising it is that the center-stage figure in this chapter is not the most powerful man in Egypt (for ‘Pharaoh’ remains unnamed) but two heroic ‘Hebrew midwives’ (who are named in v.15). Their role in facilitating Israelite births successfully dismantles Pharaoh’s murderous plans, and they are twice praised as being ‘God-fearing’ (vv. 17, 21). What else caught your attention in this chapter? Recall God’s command—‘be fruitful and multiply’—to Adam and Eve (Gen. 1:28) and to Noah (Gen. 9:7). Recall, too, God’s promise to the patriarchs that their descendants would be as numerous as the stars (Gen. 15:5) and as the dust of the earth (13:16). The Exodus story tells the story not only of a growing community of people, but of the unfolding of a covenantal relationship. God blesses his people and holds out a future of great promise. Indeed, they live, grow and thrive in great numbers! And not only do they thrive, they do so amidst oppressive conditions and despite the systematic attempts of Pharaoh to destroy their male young. What can we conclude? Right from the start, the book of Exodus presents a dramatic confrontation between the powers of life and death, between the living God of the children of Israel and the deathly paranoia of an earthly king. This is the backdrop against which Moses, as a defenseless baby, enters the picture (Exodus 2), survives against all odds, and is destined to become a savior, a liberator to his people. Continue to ponder this Torah portion, sharing your insights and questions. Reflect upon a painful period of your life in which, despite hardships, you were able to recognize God’s enduring, lifegiving presence. How were you shaped by this experience? Bibliography: Friedman, Commentary on the Torah (New York, 2001). Scripture: Richard Elliott Friedman’s translation. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website.

In the Book of Exodus we find a sequence of tense encounters between Pharaoh and the two Hebrew brothers, Moses and Aaron. The encounters have a larger stage too, for this is really a dramatic confrontation between the egotistic powers of Pharaoh, king of Egypt, versus the Lord God, King of the universe (of whom Moses and Aaron are agents). As the story unfolds in chapters 5 and 6, Pharaoh and God lock horns: Pharaoh to Moses: “Who is the LORD that I should heed Him and let Israel go? I do not know the LORD, nor will I let Israel go” (5:2). The LORD to Moses: I am the LORD. I will free you from the labors of the Egyptians and deliver you from their bondage” (6:6). Pharaoh poses a question. The Lord provides an answer. And both boldly declare their intentions. Imaginatively and prayerfully ponder these statements. Read the verses around them. What do you notice? How does the text speak to you? Creatively envisage the scenes, the tone of the speakers, the electricity of each moment. In the midrash (ancient Jewish storytelling traditions), an imaginative and insightful story is woven around these verses. According to this midrash, after asking “Who is the LORD?” Pharaoh says, “I will search my records.” And he went into his archives and brought out a list of divinities... “The god of Moab, the god of Ammon, the god of Zidon”... Finally he decreed, “You see, I looked for the name of your God in my archives, and did not find it.” .... Moses and Aaron said to Pharaoh, “Utter fool that you are! Are the living to be sought among the dead? The divinities in your records are dead. But our God is a living God, the King of the universe.” 1 Pharaoh is ignorant, but does he really want to learn the truth? How difficult it can be to embrace a new idea when it threatens our power base or takes us beyond our comfort zone. Pharaoh’s resistance helps us to appreciate the great leap that Moses, himself raised as an Egyptian prince, took in embracing the revelation of the divine name. Pharaoh’s refusal to free the Israelites is bad enough, but Moses also has to contend with rejection from his own people. “They would not listen to Moses, their spirits crushed by cruel bondage” (6:9). A devastating story forms the backdrop to this verse (pause to revisit it in chapter 5 of Exodus) where Moses’ efforts actually lead to greater suffering for his kinsfolk. Have you ever been in a circumstance where your best efforts not only were unsuccessful, but it seemed that you actually made the situation worse? Here the sacred text is magnificent: “I am the Lord. I have heard the cries of my people. I have remembered my covenant. I will redeem them with an outstretched arm. They will be my people and I will be their God” (6:5-8). Can you taste the power of divine reassurance in this dark moment? Can you allow it to touch a dark moment of your own life? Why not, right now, create a prayerful pause in your day. Call out to God in prayer and remember God’s promise in Exodus 6:5-8. Make an act of trust in our living and liberating God. • 1. The Book of Legends, 64-65. Sources: Bialik & Ravnitzky, eds., The Book of Legends (New York, 1992); Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot (Jerusalem, 1996). Scripture: JPS. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of the Light of Torah website.