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In 2021, the one-day Jewish festival of Purim commences at sundown on 25th February. Learning about another’s religion is always enlightening. However, when it comes to Christians learning about Judaism, the blessings are magnified indeed, given the deep links between the two traditions. This certainly rings true in my own faith experience as a Catholic. Since I began paying attention to the Jewish liturgical calendar I have often been led to parts of my Bible which previously escaped my attention. Since I began paying attention to the Jewish liturgical calendar I have been led to parts of my Bible which previously escaped my attention. Take, for example, the celebration of the Jewish festival of Purim. Purim celebrates an event of deliverance-from-evil told in the Book of Esther. It is the melodramatic tale of how the beautiful Queen Esther, herself a Jew living in an ancient Persian empire, saved her people from a massacre at the hands of a villain named Haman. These days, Purim has the character of a fun-filled victory celebration. The rejoicing of Jewish communities has a carnival atmosphere: costumes, masquerades, plays, parodies and plenty of wine! Food baskets given as gifts for friends and for the poor are also part of Purim activities. However, the primary commandment related to Purim is to hear the reading of the Scroll of Esther (the Megillat Esther). This reading calls for active participation from Jewish congregants. Engaging with the biblical story, playfully (yet respectfully), it is customary to boo, hiss and make loud noises at the mention of Haman’s name, ‘to blot out the name of Haman.’ Of course, the Book of Esther is integral to my own Catholic faith tradition; I find it in my Bible* and hear it proclaimed as part of the lectionary. It has been preserved as a divinely inspired sacred text, the word of God. And yet, in my experience, this lively biblical story does not usually attract much attention in Catholic parishes or classrooms. In a spirit of learning from the Jewish people, Purim is a fitting time to discover, or rediscover, this part of our Scriptures (and to cheer the heroine Queen Esther!) as part of our own Catholic biblical formation. Along with the joyful character of Purim, a sombre note sounds. In the Jewish calendar the Sabbath prior to Purim is called Shabbat Zachor, ‘Sabbath of Remembrance.’ On this day an added reading from Exodus tells of Amalek, traditionally identified as a biblical character of cruelty and an ancestor of Haman. Thus, while Purim brings to mind a moment of salvation for the Jewish people, the ever-present reality of human suffering and the commitment to resist evil are also remembered on Shabbat Zachor. On the day (or a few days) prior to Purim observant Jews observe the Fast of Esther recalling Queen Esther’s personal fast and that of the Jewish community prior to Esther’s intervention on behalf of her people (Esther 4:16). Purim closes with friends and family gathering for a special afternoon meal. If you have Jewish friends, neighbours or colleagues, ask them to teach you more about Purim. Invite conversation based on your reading of the Book of Esther. Allow this ancient story, packed with timeless meaning, to enliven your biblical and interfaith sensibilities. * Note: Catholic Bibles include certain textual differences and additions compared to the Jewish Bible, which trace back to use of the ancient Greek version of the Hebrew Scriptures. © Teresa Pirola, 2011 lightoftorah.net Reproduction permitted for non-commercial use with acknowledgement of website.

Join in this Torah reflection with Light of Torah readers exploring the Exodus story. . . Having received the stone tablets inscribed with the Decalogue (‘ten commandments’), in chapters 25-27 of the Book of Exodus the Israelites now receive from God the task of building the Tabernacle: a portable shrine that will house the precious stone tablets. Unless you are an architect with an interest in ancient temple structures, at first glance the details in this part of the Torah may test your patience! But let’s stay with the sacred text, empowered by rabbinic insight, and see if we can unlock meaning for our lives. Read as much of these chapters as you can, then let’s focus on a single verse: 25:2. Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved” (25:2, JPS). Note how three other translations express this: “...from all whose hearts prompt them to give” (25:2, NRSV). “...from every man whose heart makes-him-willing” (25:2, Fox). “...from every man whose heart motivates him” (25:2 Stone ed., Mesorah). What do you read in your bible? A close reading of this verse has led Torah commentators to view it as shedding light on the whole Torah portion. Can you see why? Following Rashi (11th century Torah scholar) we note that this building task is not only dedicated to the Lord’s name, it is to be a voluntary effort, an expression of goodwill. It does not involve coercion, guilt or competition but hearts willingly moved, rightly motivated. How different is this work to the forced labour under Pharaoh’s rule! As a work of love, it is to be lifegiving, uniting the Israelites in a common goal, forming them as a people dedicated to the Lord’s service. We are reminded that the gift of self, freely given, is at the heart of faith. An ethos of community service is a hallmark of both Judaism and Christianity. When someone or something is precious to us, we tend to be aware of intricate details. “I love the way that lock of hair falls in the middle of her forehead,” says the romantic lover. “Note how the pattern on the tiles has a subtle ‘tree’ motif,” says the proud homeowner. Details overlooked as irrelevant by an ‘outsider’ are the mark of specialness to the ‘insider’ who is intimately connected with and applies significance to those details. In this light, can we start to hear the Torah text not as a tedious list of construction ingredients, but as a hymn of praise to the Living God? As the people are called to willingly gather, pool their offerings, contribute their skills and expend their energies, a sacred focal point will emerge in their midst which will have enduring significance for ages to come. Note the interpenetration of ordinary earthly tasks and an extraordinary spiritual perspective. Reflection Reflect on the gift of a willing heart. Think of a time when your heart was ‘so moved’ to undertake a great labour of love. What intricate details were part of that experience? Are there rituals/works in your life that were once a delight but are now undertaken with a sense of joyless obligation? What steps can you take to rediscover the original reason and enthusiasm for your giving? Bibliography: Freedman & Simon, eds., Midrash Rabbah: Exodus (New York: Soncino, 1983); Herczeg, ed., trans. Rashi: Commentary on the Torah (New York: Mesorah, 1999); Schorsch, Canon Without Closure (New York, 2007). © Teresa Pirola, 2012. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of the Light of Torah website.

Lent and Holy Week are times for Christian teachers and preachers to be particularly vigilant in their handling of the lectionary readings, in order to avoid subtle messages that do harm to the Jewish people and their traditions. For example, where the Gospel depicts Jesus as saying, "Do not imitate the hypocrites" (Mt 6:16), we can take care to avoid sweeping statements that suggest the 'hypocrisy' of ancient Judaism (this would be a serious misuse of the text), and instead point out that Jesus critiques elements of his own tradition, from within, as a faithful Jew. All religions are prone to the ‘hypocrisy’ described by this text. We can also highlight the positive ways Jewish society is depicted in the Gospels. For example: “But when you give alms, your left hand must not know what your right hand is doing; your almsgiving must be secret, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you” (Mt 6:3-4). Prayer, fasting and almsgiving are traditionally part of the Church’s season of Lent. All three are mentioned in the Gospel of Ash Wednesday (6:1-6,16-18). Presented there is a picture of the Jewish community to which Jesus belongs, a community which takes for granted the importance of prayer, fasting and almsgiving. Jesus calls for these actions to be undertaken in a spirit of humility. This teaching was, and continues to be, integral to Jewish understanding. For instance, in the Talmud we read: ‘One who gives charity in secret is greater than Moses’ (Baba Bathra 9b). ‘Humility is the greatest virtue of all’ (Abodah Zara 20b). Recall, too, a theme resounding in the Hebrew scriptures: ‘True sacrifice to God is a contrite spirit’ (Psalm 51:17).

"When you come upon your enemy’s ox or donkey going astray, you shall bring it back. When you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden and you would hold back from setting it free, you must help to set it free” (Exodus 23:4-5). These verses from the Book of Exodus resonate with the teaching of Jesus to ‘love your enemies.’ Examine them carefully. Read them aloud. Ponder the detail of the text. Note its setting: amidst rules against slander and the perversion of justice (23:1-3, 6-8) and concluding with a verse about protection of the stranger (23:9). Discuss your observations with a friend. Why would these verses appear here? Perhaps because personal animosity has a tendency to lead to slander and false witness. Likewise, the stranger, the ‘outsider,’ is vulnerable to being treated as an enemy. Note how this teaching is phrased as a case study. It is not a general prohibition against mistreatment of another; it calls for an active response of returning good for evil and offers two concrete examples. The second example is especially pointed. Returning a stray beast (v.4) could be done via a third party while avoiding any contact with its owner. Raising the felled beast (v.5), however, requires direct contact with its owner as both parties engage in a common task for good. Rabbinic commentators compare “When you come upon...” (v.4) with “When you see...” (v.5). Even if your enemy’s plight is seen from a distance you must leave your path and make your way to him to give assistance. The phrase ‘‘and you would hold back” (v.5) also comes under the sages’ microscope. To overcome within oneself the instinct for evil is the moral task of every person. A just society is built on lifegiving deeds, enacted even when one’s feelings dictate otherwise. In Jewish legal tradition we find this case: If a friend requires help unloading his donkey, and an enemy requires help loading his—our first duty is to attend to our enemy in order to discipline our instincts. [1] Clearly, compassion for enemies is by no means unique to Christian teaching; it is embedded in Judaism. For example, in the story of the crossing of the Red Sea the Torah celebrates victory over Pharaoh's army, the oppressor of Israel. But an oft-quoted rabbinic commentary on this text describes the scene thus: “The ministering angels wanted to sing a hymn at the destruction of the Egyptians, but God said, ‘My creatures are drowning and you are busy with song?’” [2] Reflection In the light of today’s Torah discussion reflect on your understanding of the teaching of Jesus to ‘love your enemies’ (Mt. 5:44). What in particular caught your attention in the interpretative insights of the Jewish sages, and how does it enrich your biblical awareness as a Christian? 1. Bava Mezia 32b. 2. Megillah10b. Bibliography: Larsson, Bound for Freedom (Mass., 1999); Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot (New York, 1996); Montefiore & Loewe, A Rabbinic Anthology (New York, 1974). Scripture: NRSV. A note on the Gospel In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy’” (5:43). In fact, the saying that Jesus quotes is not found in the Jewish Scriptures. It appears, however, in texts that form part of the Dead Sea Scrolls (ancient manuscripts discovered last century at Qumran, near the Dead Sea).

“Now Mount Sinai was all in smoke, for the Eternal had come down upon it in fire...and the whole mountain trembled violently. The blare of the horn grew louder and louder. As Moses spoke, God answered him in thunder.” (Exodus 19:18-19) Moses’ reception of the Decalogue (‘Ten Commandments’) on Mt Sinai, in the sight and hearing of the people gathered, is a powerful biblical scene. The Book of Exodus describes this moment as theophany. There, in the presence of the whole community, God reveals the Torah, the divine teaching that welds the God-Israel relationship into an everlasting covenant. God who is beyond all things draws his people into the Divine Presence in a new way. Reading Exodus 19, one can’t help but notice the amount of preparation involved in the lead-up to the Decalogue: the public gathering, sights and sounds, sense of awe, the solemnity of Moses’ approach... Before the Lord actually speaks the Ten Commandments, what is the text trying to tell us about this moment? As the Jewish sages of old ponder this event they note that the text speaks of fire, smoke, thunder before and after the Decalogue, but there is no mention of them during the Decalogue itself. Says the creative storytelling of the Midrash, when God speaks the earth falls silent: "When God gave the Torah, no bird twittered, no fowl flew, no ox lowed, the Seraphim did not say ‘Holy Holy,’ the sea did not roar... The whole world was hushed into breathless silence and the Voice went forth.” (1) Amidst the celestial drama the sages detect an exquisite thread of loving intimacy as God draws close to his people in an unprecedented way. It’s not just ‘what’ is said in the celebrated Ten Commandments, it is ‘how’. Even silence can be interpreted. According to Rashi, when the text says that ‘Moses led the people out of the camp toward God’ (19:17), it suggests the meeting of lovers. (2) As Israel goes out toward God, God goes forth to meet Israel like a bridegroom going out to greet his beloved. Likewise, the Talmud connects the Sinai revelation with the day of the Sabbath since in the Jewish understanding this is the day of intimate union—for wives and husbands, and for human beings and their Creator. So convinced are the sages of the radical depths of the relationship forged between God and Israel through the gift of Torah that in the Midrash we find the angels appalled at the idea! “When Moses ascended to heaven, the angels complained... ‘What is a mere mortal doing here in our midst?’ God replied, ‘He has come to receive the Torah.’ The angels replied... ‘It is fitting that you give Torah to us in heaven. Why? Because we are holy and pure and it is pure and holy... far better that it remain with us.’” (3) Abraham Heschel (4) observes that in Jewish sacred writings Torah’s heavenly essence is personified: Torah is God’s darling daughter whose splendour never wanes, even after she departs from the divine domain to be among mortals. While not to be equated with the Christian doctrine of the Incarnation, Christians will note a certain resonance here with their own belief in the divine Son. Heschel himself remarks on this “as a striking example of similarity-with-difference between Judaism and Christianity.” (5) There is much to ponder in this Torah text as interpreted by Jewish tradition, which can enrich our own Christian view of the Ten Commandments and help us to better grasp why we refer to Jesus as the ‘Living Word/Torah.’ 1. Exodus Rabbah 29:9 2. Rashi: 11th century Torah scholar, France. 3. Midrash on Psalms 8:2 4. Heschel, 20th century Jewish theologian. 5. Heschel, Heavenly Torah, 323. Sources: Freedman and Simon, eds., Midrash Rabbah: Exodus (London/New York: Soncino, 1983); Herczeg, ed., Rashi: Commentary on the Torah (New York, 1999); Heschel, Heavenly Torah, (New York, 1996); Munk, The Call of the Torah (New York, 1994). Scripture: JPS. © Teresa Pirola, 2012. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website: lightoftorah.net

In the Book of Exodus two biblical masterpieces conclude the account of the liberation from Egypt. Chapter 14 tells of the crossing of the Red Sea. Chapter 15 is a song of victory. Our focus here will be Chapter 14. Read Chapter 14 of Exodus. The battle imagery is blatant, isn’t it? The whole chapter reads like a war scene: advancing armies, entrapped camps, chariots, leaders issuing strategic orders and battle-cries. Even God appears as a kind of warlord. We needn’t be surprised by this. The Bible’s historical context reflects the views of ancient cultures which understood their deities in war-like terms. Our interest here, however, is the creative analysis of the Jewish sages who dug deeply into the biblical story seeking meaning for their lives. We might begin by asking: if it is a battle, why don’t the 600,000 strong Hebrew slaves turn around and fight for their lives? Here Ibn Ezra [1] leads us to consider the inner turmoil of the Israelites. Despite their ‘defiance’ (v.8), so traumatized were the Israelites by their years of captivity that they were psychologically incapable of mounting a fight. With this in mind, re-read 14:6-14. They “caught sight of the Egyptians” (Exodus 14:10). What did they see? Six hundred chariots? Or something more? One can sense that Israel is mentally overpowered by the very sight of Egypt. Egypt! An empire of wealth, culture, might; an ancient super power! Continue to ponder the text, staying close to its detail, and share your observations with a friend. A further suggestion along these lines is that the Israelites harboured ambiguous feelings towards Egypt. Yes, it was a place of bondage, but it was also a land where they were fed! Note the repetition of the name ‘Egypt’ in 14:11-12. Rabbinic commentary will often hear the repetition of a name (e.g., ‘Abraham! Abraham! in Genesis 22:11) as a sign of deep affection. And the name ‘Egypt’ occurs no less than five times here, like the sound of babies crying for their mother’s milk! Is this the distorted affection of the victim for the oppressor? No wonder the Lord has to take matters into divine hands and perform miracles to pull this people through! Still, let’s not overlook the signs of hope: the Israelites have marched out of Egypt and begun to grasp, however tentatively, a new life of freedom. In Jewish tradition we find this comment: “R. Eliezer said: This reflects great credit on Israel. For when Moses said to them: ‘Arise and go forth,” they did not say: How can we go forth into the wilderness when we have no sustenance for the way? But they had faith and went after Moses.”[2] Table-topic: Sometimes we prefer the familiarity of captivity to the terrifying work of freedom. Discuss. Share an insight that you take from Exodus 14. 1. 12th C Torah scholar, Spain. 2. Cited by Leibowitz, 240. Bibliography: Fox, The Five Books of Moses (New York: 1995); Leibowitz, New Studies in Shemot (New York, 1996); Sarna, JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia, 1991). Scripture: JPS. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net. Reproduction for non-commercial use permitted with acknowledgement of website.

We Remember the Six Million. We remember each one, a unique person, with an irreplaceable story. We remember all who died and suffered. Add your name to the IRemember Wall. Go to Yad Vashem Holocaust Remembrance Center. More On International Holocaust Remembrance Day 2021, Facebook announced a new tool to combat Holocaust denial. Read more...

"We are nurtured by deep roots, as far back as Abraham and Sarah; we reach upwards to the heavens while standing firmly on the ground; and when we do all this right, we produce fruits that benefit the world - namely our good deeds.” (judaism.about.com) From sundown 27 January to nightfall 28th January 2021, Jewish communities celebrate the minor festival of Tu B’Shevat. What’s that about? And what can Christians learn? At one level, Tu B’Shevat is a festival celebrating the ‘birthday’ of trees and their fruits. Originating in agricultural and tithing practices in ancient Israel, it is a celebration of the gift of creation, looking forward to the spring (northern hemisphere) as seeds swell with hidden life and prepare to burst forth with fruit. At another level, Tu B’Shevat is a reminder of our call to spiritual growth. When our lives put down roots deep in God’s Word they bear the fruit of good deeds. Tu B’Shevat is also viewed as a call to ecological responsibility. And it is a symbol of the hope of salvation after the suffering of exile. How might a Christian take inspiration from Tu B’Shevat, the New Year for Trees? Next time you explore the ecological themes expressed in Pope Francis’ encyclical "Laudato Si’" (Care For Our Common Home), you might give thought to the ecological contributions of Jewish tradition as well. Suggestions follow for leading a small group in a reflection inspired by Tu B'Shevat. Symbols: Prepare a simple arrangement of fruits (with seeds) and a green branch. Opening reflection Access to the enjoyment of the beauties of nature—meadows full of flowers, majestic mountains, flowing rivers—strengthens us in service to God. For all these contribute to the spiritual development of even the holiest of people. (Rabbi Abraham ben Maimonides). Pause. Silence, as we prepare to listen to God’s Word. Scripture Jeremiah 17:7-8: But I will bless the person who puts his trust in me. He is like a tree growing near a stream and sending out roots to the water. It is not afraid when hot weather comes, because its leaves stay green; it has no worries when there is no rain; it keeps on bearing fruit. Luke 13:18-29: Jesus asked: ‘What is the kingdom of God like? What shall I compare it with? It is like this. A man takes a mustard seed and plants it in his field. The plant grows and it becomes a tree, and the birds make their nests in its branches.’ Pause. Silence, as we ponder God’s Word. Sharing In what way is the tree a symbol of your life as a son/daughter of God, as a disciple of Jesus? E.g., Think of your family tree, and your faith family tree reaching right back to Abraham & Sarah. For what/whom are you most grateful at this moment? Share a point of growth in your faith life. Is your life currently about sowing seeds? Sprouting new shoots? Bearing fruit? Drawing close to a stream? Surviving a drought? Additional points for reflection The Jewish sages discussed the question: Why is Torah (God’s Word/teachings) compared to the fig tree? Discuss this question in the light of the following: 1) You cannot pick all the figs at once, but only gradually, over a long season. Similarly, you cannot learn the whole Torah at once, but only gradually, little by little, over an entire lifetime. (Midrash Numbers Rabbah 12,9; 21,15) 2) Whenever you go to the fig tree, you are likely to find ripe fruit to eat. Similarly, when you go to the Torah, you will find nourishment for the spirit. (Babylonian Talmud, Eruvin 54a,b) Recall a time when you turned to Scripture and drew strength, nourishment, life. A blessing from Jewish tradition Over Fruit that Grows on Trees: Blessed are you, Lord our God, sovereign of the universe, who has created the fruit of the tree. A blessing from Catholic tradition For the Sprouting Seed: To you, O Lord, we pray: bless the sprouting seed, strengthen it in the gentle movement of soft winds, refresh it with the dew of heaven, and let it grow to full maturity for the good of body and soul. A closing prayer Creator God, bless our lives, and the life of our family/community. May we be fertile ground for the seed of your love to be sown and to grow to fullness. May we rise up like a sturdy tree, sinking roots deeply into the gift of your Word and into the gift of your people. May we never be afraid to grow. Further Reading: A Handbook For the New Year of the Tree published by Livnot.org [Resources / Jewish holidays]

Exodus 10-13 tells of dramatic events. Three more plagues exhibit the power of the Lord. The tug-of-war continues between Pharaoh and Moses as God’s agent. The Passover ritual is prescribed and the greatest event of all takes place: the Israelites are liberated from Egypt! Amidst all this breathtaking activity our chosen text for reflection is brief: just one verse: 12:42. “That was for the Lord a night of vigil to bring them out of the land of Egypt; that same night is the Lord’s, one of vigil for all the children of Israel throughout the ages” (Exodus 12:42). In his commentary, the 11th century Torah scholar Rashi says: “It is a night of keepings... For the Holy One, Blessed is He, was keeping it in mind and looking forward to it in order to fulfill His promise to take them out of the land of Egypt.” Ponder the detail (e.g., repetition, time of day, context) of the Torah verse, as well as Rashi’s comment. Does the sacred text speak to you? How? The verse is powerfully understated. It immediately follows a statement about the length of time (430 years) that the Israelites had spent in Egypt... until this night. Can’t we all point to a moment when our lives underwent irrevocable change. Think of ‘a night’ (literally or figuratively) when God’s liberating love entered your life, changing you forever. As we enter the Exodus story, can we sense the intimacy between God and the Hebrews as communicated by this one verse? On this night the Lord watches over his people, thus the people will remember this night which belongs to the Lord. Because it is precious to the Lord, it remains precious to his people. Continue to ponder this verse, sharing your insights and questions. God‘s people are safeguarded, and God’s special night is kept holy in return. This ancient text finds contemporary ritual expression in the Jewish seder meal held in the home at Passover. From generation to generation the seder commemorates the Exodus event and is central to the Jewish Passover festival. A Talmudic interpretation describes Passover as “a night ever under protection from malevolent beings.”[1] This text carries tragic irony when we recall that in Europe of the Middle Ages the commemoration of ‘this night’ of the Lord’s watch was a night when Jews were least protected by the surrounding Christian culture. Christian passion plays were known to stir up hatred towards the so-called ‘Christ-killers’ to the point of violence inflicted upon local Jews. The hysteria was fed by a bizarre accusation that Jews were using the blood of Christian children in their Passover ritual (the ‘blood libel’ charge). It is painful for Christians to hear this chapter of their history, yet it is all part of coming to terms with the past and embracing today’s new era of reconciliation between Christians and Jews. Faith & Liturgy So much of Christian liturgy is grounded in Jewish story and ritual. During the Easter Triduum we gather on the night of Holy Thursday and read from the same passage we have visited in today’s Torah portion. On the night of the Easter vigil we gather and listen to readings from the Torah and the Prophets, remembering the events of the Exodus and anticipating the dawn of Easter Sunday. 1. Pes. 109b, RH 11b quoted in JPS Torah Commentary. Bibliography: Larsson, Bound for Freedom (Mass., 1999); Sarna, JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia, 1991); Scherman, Zlotowitz, eds., Rashi: Commentary on the Torah (New York: Mesorah, 1999). Scripture: JPS. © Teresa Pirola, 2013. lightoftorah.net

Today’s Torah portion appears to bring the saga of Jacob’s sons to a happy conclusion. In a tearful reunion, Joseph reveals himself as their brother and immediately arranges that Jacob be brought to Egypt along with his entire progeny. In this way, the family will find protection and survive the famine. Jacob is overjoyed to learn that Joseph is alive and eagerly makes his way to him. Read the story in chapters 45 and 46. During the journey to Egypt, however, God speaks to Jacob in a dream. God’s message is one of reassurance... or is it? Read carefully 46:1-7, then join in conversation with the Jewish sages. God addressed Israel in a night vision, saying, “Jacob! Jacob! ... I am God, the God of your father; do not be afraid to go down to Egypt” (Gen. 46:2-3). Abravanel (15th c. Torah commentator) poses the question: Why would God say “Do not be afraid” when there is no suggestion that Jacob was fearful about going to Egypt? Indeed, the text mentions only his joyful eagerness to be reunited with Joseph. How might you respond to Abravanel’s question? Says one student of Torah: “After all the tragedy endured by Jacob, including the way Joseph has been ‘toying’ with his family, it is not surprising that Jacob might be fearful of their future in Egypt.” We can wonder, too, why Joseph, for all his emotion and familial concern, doesn’t make the trek to Canaan to greet his elderly father. But if these factors cause Jacob anxiety, why doesn’t the text explicitly portray his fear? Are we being reminded that God knows what lies deep and unspoken in the heart of the believer? An alternative approach can be taken by exploring the reference to Jacob’s father, Isaac (verses 1, 3). It prompts us to recall a previous passage (Genesis 26:2) where God explicitly tells Isaac NOT to go to Egypt. In this view, Jacob is afraid of dishonoring the memory of his father’s obedience to God. Is this interpretation convincing to you? A further interpretation emerges in a 13th century Jewish commentary (Hizkuni) echoing a midrash: “Jacob was afraid and said: Now that I am about to go down to Egypt the days are at hand foretold by my forefathers regarding the decree of bondage and affliction on my seed in a land not their own.” [1] We know previously from Gen.15:13-14, as well as from the drama to follow in the Book of Exodus, that what began as a survival plan and family reunion in Egypt will amount, 400 years later, to the slavery of the Hebrews under Egyptian rule. It will take God’s intervention through Moses to bring the descendants of Jacob back to Canaan, the land of their ancestors. Perhaps, then, the Torah alludes to Jacob’s ‘greater vision’. He sees beyond the joy of family reunion and the comforts of Egypt, and is concerned for the destiny of his people, their fidelity to God, their ties with their God-given homeland. As Rashi (11th c.) puts it: Jacob “was distressed because he had been obliged to leave the homeland.” [2] Continue to discuss in the light of this interpretation. As I contemplate the future, what fears do I harbor, for my children, grandchildren, my community, my church? Do I allow God to speak to these fears in my life of prayer? • 1) Quoted in Leibowitz, 501. 2) ibid. Bibliography: Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit (New York: Lambda. 1994); Plaut, ed., The Torah: A Modern Commentary (URJ Press, 2006). Scripture: Plaut.

Have you ever been placed in a situation where your life, career or a relationship hung in the balance? A moment when your next choice of words or behavior could have dire consequences? That’s the kind of moment that Joseph finds himself in Genesis 41. Sold into slavery by his brothers and imprisoned in an Egyptian dungeon, suddenly Joseph finds himself with a chance at freedom. His talent for dream-interpretation has been noticed, and he has been brought before Pharaoh to interpret a dream which has been troubling the Egyptian king. There is no doubt that this is a critical moment for Joseph. So much is at risk! Will he find favor with Pharaoh and save his skin? Or will he be returned to jail? Read their interaction in Genesis 41:14-36. Can you sense the pressure of the moment? Look carefully at Joseph’s reply to Pharaoh in 41:16, 25-32. A recurring theme threads its way through the text. Repetition catches the attention of traditional Jewish interpreters who ponder its significance. In this case it leads some commentators to conclude that this is a fine moment in Joseph’s life. Why? Because he stands in the midst of an antagonistic, pagan environment and courageously invokes the name of God. Can you pick the repetition? Verse 16: “Not I,” Joseph replied to Pharaoh, “God will give Pharaoh a favorable answer.” Verse 26: “God has revealed to Pharaoh what he is going to do.” Verse 28: “God has revealed to Pharaoh what he is going to do.” Verse 32: “...the event is already determined by God, and God will shortly bring it about.” Clearly, for Joseph, God is active and center stage. God is the one who does, who reveals, who determines and who brings to pass. But is Joseph displaying strong faith or simply being a smart strategist? If we delve a little further back into this story we find our thread of repetition in other situations as well: To his master’s wife who tries to seduce him Joseph says: “How could I do anything so wicked, and sin against God?” (39:9). And to his fellow prisoners who are troubled by their dreams he says, “Are not interpretations God’s business?” (40:8). It can be argued, then, that Joseph is a God-fearing Israelite, who chooses to openly proclaim the God of his people in the presence of Pharaoh. Fortunately for Joseph, his reply meets with Pharaoh’s favor (“Can we find anyone else endowed with the spirit of God, like him?” 41:38). It even brings Pharaoh to a certain recognition of the God of Israel, for he now approaches Joseph not simply as an expert on dreams but as a collaborator with God. (“Since God has given you knowledge of all this...” 41:39). The king of Egypt for the first time defers to the King of kings. Think about it: · How difficult is it to bear witness to your faith, to your church, or simply to be true to yourself, in a potentially hostile environment? · Share an experience where you were faced with a ‘Joseph before Pharaoh’ moment. · What are some of the ordinary ways you ‘invoke the name of God’ in daily life? • Sources: Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit (New York, 1994); Goldstein, ed., The Women’s Torah Commentary (Woodstock, 2000). Scripture: NJB.

In December both Christians and Jews hold candle-lighting rituals. Christian families light the Advent wreath candles on the Sundays leading to Christmas, while Jewish families light a candle for each of the eight days of Hanukkah. Christians are familiar with Advent candles. But why do Jews light candles at Hanukkah, and why should we Christians be interested in this practice? Is it simply a case of building good relations with people of other religions (always an important task) or is there something more that speaks to us in our life of faith? Hanukkah means ‘dedication.’ This festival takes us back to the 2nd century BCE and recalls the re-dedication of the Jerusalem temple following the Maccabean uprising. The books of 1 & 2 Maccabees tell this story as the persecution of the Jewish population: forced conversions, brutal punishments, and defilement of the temple as a powerful Greek Hellenistic culture threatened to suppress Judaism. The text includes the gripping tales of Maccabean resistance and heroic martyrs, such as a Jewish mother and her seven sons who accepted torture and death rather than renounce the religious practices of their ancestors (2 Maccabees 7). According to rabbinic tradition, when the Maccabeans reclaimed the temple and lit the temple menorah (lamp stand), a miracle occurred: amidst the ruins they could find only a small quantity of pure oil, enough for one day of light, yet the menorah stayed alight for eight days. In the miracle of the cruse of oil, commentators note the courage of the Jews to attempt to light the menorah in the first place. Why bother when it seemed that the oil would not last beyond a day? The act of lamp-lighting indicates resilient hope and persistent faith. In Hanukkah there is much to inspire Christians. We might ponder the idea that were it not for the reality that Hanukkah represents, had not the Jewish people prevailed time and again in history in the face of forces bent on their destruction, there would be no Jewish communities to carry on the traditions of their faith, to be a light to the nations. There would be no child Jesus born and raised in the teachings of the Torah. There would be no Christmas. At a time of year when we Christians remember the coming of Christ, the nearness of a Jewish festival (Hanukkah) can remind us that the little family in Bethlehem 2,000 years ago were faithful Jews who celebrated the festivals of their tradition according to the customs of their day. Each in its unique way, Advent and Hanukkah engender a spirit of renewal. Remembering the re-dedication of the ancient temple, Jews today approach Hanukkah as a time for spiritual re-dedication of their lives. Meanwhile, Christians at Advent prepare their hearts to celebrate the sacred mysteries of the Christmas season. Jewish-Christian reconciliation was a key teaching of the Second Vatican Council. To respect the significance of our Jewish friends lighting Hanukkah candles, while we Christians light Advent candles, is one expression of this ongoing call to renewal.