Just recently, the so-called "hill youth" - an extreme and violent posse of youngsters who appropriate empty hillocks throughout Judea and Samaria for the purpose of illegal settlement - issued a list of curses for their members to use as the need arises. When attacked by border policemen, they now have precise formulations by which to fend off the foe - in the same way Harry Potter might ward off Muggles or other dark powers with his magic wand.
Chanucah is a post-prophetic festival, whose history is found in the Apocrypha and the Talmud. It recalls the Greeks' occupation of Israel and their attempt, under the Syrian king Antiochus Epiphanes, to assimilate the Jewish people into oblivion around 167 BCE. We celebrate the Maccabees' reassertion of Jewish control over the land of Israel, and the miracle of the Temple menorah, which only had one night's worth of pure olive oil but which shone for eight nights until more oil could be procured.
In October, Barack Obama, in response to a recent spike in suicides among America's gay teenagers, launched a video speaking out against homosexual bullying. In the same month, Shmuley Boteach, the "Hollywood Rabbi", wrote an article for the Wall Street Journal criticising the harsh view taken of gays in most Orthodox congregations in the USA. Both events beg the same question: how do we square the biblical prohibition against homosexuality with modern notions of equality?
When some 256 Jewish communities in 45 countries take part in a Global Day of Jewish Learning on Sunday, they will enact a modern miracle that brings together ancient wisdom and contemporary communications technology. The object of the day is to celebrate a historic event in the annals of Jewish studies: the completion of the Steinsaltz Talmud.
Timbuktu: the name is so steeped in mystique that many people think it is an imaginary rather than a real place. Historically, the city in the republic of Mali has been a centre of Islamic civilisation in Africa. It is also home to an emerging Jewish community.
According to local lore, some of the Jewish traders who crossed the Sahara centuries ago settled there but their descendants were forcibly converted to Islam. Now a new generation wants to return to their roots and openly identify as Jews. They have taken the Hebrew name Zakhor, "remember".
The furore over American Pastor Terry Jones's suggestion to hold a "Burn a Koran Day" was quickly overshadowed by the desecration of a mosque in Beit Fajjar near Bethlehem. The graffiti on the walls suggested that it was the work of extremist Jewish settlers.
At first glance, it might seem that Judaism supports this belligerent approach towards our Muslim neighbours. God's instructions to Moses as the Israelites prepare to conquer the Land of Israel offer little in the way of liberal, pluralist sentiment.
Chief Rabbi Jakobovits was a champion of Jewish education, so it was natural that when visiting schools, he would try to engage with the pupils and inspire them with a love of their religion. Legend has it that on one visit to a provincial Jewish school, he had a surprise. "Who painted this beautiful picture of a chanukiah?" he asked. "Mohammed" came the reply. Undeterred, the rabbi tried again. "Who drew this lovely plate of latkes?" he asked: "Ahmed" was the response.
The haftarah for Shemini Atzeret in the diaspora recalls the ceremony mounted by King Solomon for the inauguration of the First Temple. In this it provides a fitting climax to the careers not only of Solomon but also of his father, King David, who, in the parallel text in the Book of Chronicles, planned and devised almost every detail of its complex architecture. The amount of words lavished on the building's design in both sources only emphasises its supreme importance in the annals of ancient Israel's history.
"It's concentrated poison." That was the bitter assessment on my proffered home-made etrog jam. Not because it tasted so bad, but because this particular guest was an avowed "greenie". As he put it, eating a batch of post-Succot etrog jam was equivalent to dipping one's liver in a barrel of weed-killer.