Judith 10:6–10

Judith 10:6 — The Threshold Moment Judith and her maidservant do not slip away unnoticed; they go directly to the city gate, the liminal space between safety and danger, the known and the unknown. The gate in ancient Israelite life was the civic heart of a city — the seat of legal authority and communal discernment (cf. Ruth 4:1; Prov 31:23). That the elders — Ozias, Chabris, and Charmis — are specifically named here lends the scene legal and covenantal weight. These are not bystanders but the recognized stewards of the community's welfare, the very men who had earlier despaired and proposed surrender (Jdt 7:30–31). Judith is not acting as a lone renegade; she presents herself before legitimate authority and moves through the proper channels of communal life.

Judith 10:7 — Beauty as Transformation and Sign The elders' astonishment is double: her "countenance was altered and her apparel was changed." The preceding chapter (Jdt 10:1–5) narrated Judith's meticulous preparation — she removed her widow's garments, bathed, anointed herself with costly perfume, arranged her hair, and dressed in her finest attire. This is no mere cosmetic improvement. The Greek verb underlying "altered" (μετεβλήθη) suggests a profound change of state, not simply appearance. The elders recognize that something has happened to Judith, not just on her. In the interpretive tradition, this transformation echoes the preparation of a bride or a warrior. She is neither exactly; she is something harder to categorize — a holy instrument of divine purpose, adorned for a sacred mission. Her beauty is not a seduction of the elders but a sign to them. The community perceives in her altered face the mark of divine favor before they even speak it.

Judith 10:8 — The Blessing: A Liturgical Commissioning The elders' words ("May the God of our fathers give you favor, and accomplish your purposes to the glory of the children of Israel, and to the exaltation of Jerusalem") function as a formal blessing — a berakhah — invoking the God of the covenant ("the God of our fathers," the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob). This is not a vague wish of good fortune; it is a liturgical act that places Judith's mission within Israel's entire salvific history. The phrase "to the exaltation of Jerusalem" is particularly significant: Jerusalem, the city of the Temple, is the ultimate stake of the battle. The elders do not yet know Judith's plan, yet their blessing prophetically frames it in the grandest possible terms. They bless what they cannot fully see, which is itself an act of faith.

Judith 10:9 — Judith's Authority: Command, Not Request There is a striking reversal here: Judith does not petition the gate to be opened — she commands it. "Command that they open the gate of the city for me." This is the language of one who carries delegated authority. Though Ozias is the sitting ruler of Bethulia, Judith speaks with a higher commission. Her voice is assured, her grammar imperative. This inversion of social hierarchy — a widow commanding the elders of a city — is a signature motif of the Book of Judith and echoes the broader biblical pattern in which God chooses the lowly to confound the powerful (cf. 1 Cor 1:27). Earlier, Judith had rebuked the elders sharply for their presumption in setting a five-day deadline for God (Jdt 8:11–17); now that rebuke has become action. She moves.

Judith 10:10 — Obedience and the Opening of the Way The terse "and they did so" is one of the most theologically dense phrases in the passage. The elders of a besieged city — men who controlled access to the walls, men who had been paralyzed by fear — immediately and silently comply with the widow's command. There is no debate, no committee, no second-guessing. The gate opens. This gate-opening is the physical counterpart to Judith's interior resolution. What God has opened in her heart, the elders now open in the wall. The way is made clear for divine action to enter history.

Catholic tradition reads Judith as one of Scripture's most powerful prefigurations of the Virgin Mary, and this passage is a locus classicus for that typology. The Church Fathers, including St. Jerome (who translated the Book of Judith into the Vulgate canon, defending its inspiration), saw in Judith a type of the woman who crushes the enemy's head — an echo of Genesis 3:15 and, proleptically, of Mary's role in salvation history. The Second Vatican Council's Lumen Gentium (§55) speaks of Mary as the one in whom the long expectation of the covenant finds its fulfillment; Judith's mission, blessed by the elders of Israel at the city gate, prefigures the Annunciation, where Mary sets forth under divine commission to become the instrument of Israel's ultimate salvation.

The altered countenance and changed apparel of verse 7 resonates with the Catholic theology of sanctifying grace transforming the soul. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§1999) teaches that grace is "a participation in the life of God," a genuine ontological change — not cosmetic but constitutive. Judith's visible transformation is a sacramental type of what interior grace accomplishes invisibly.

The blessing in verse 8 anticipates the Church's liturgical tradition of sending forth: the Mass itself closes with a missio — "Go forth" — that sends the baptized into the world as Judith is sent. St. Ambrose in De Viduis (On Widows) holds Judith up explicitly as the model of the holy widow: continent, courageous, and utterly surrendered to God's purpose. For Ambrose, Judith demonstrates that chastity does not close off engagement with the world but rather empowers it with a fearless clarity.

This passage challenges contemporary Catholics to examine how they receive and enact their own commissioning. Every Catholic has been blessed and sent — at Baptism, at Confirmation, at Mass — and yet many wait passively for permission or perfect conditions before acting on that commission. Judith does not wait. She prepares herself seriously (her grooming is an act of spiritual discipline, not vanity), presents herself to legitimate authority for blessing, and then commands the gate open. She does not ask whether she might be wrong or whether the timing is right.

For Catholics discerning a vocation, a difficult conversation, a prophetic witness in a secular workplace, or an act of charity requiring sacrifice, Judith's departure models a crucial sequence: interior preparation → community accountability → decisive action. The blessing of the elders also reminds us that missions undertaken in isolation, without the Church's blessing or the counsel of wise others, lack the communal ratification that strengthens and legitimizes them. Ask for blessing before you go through the gate.