The Israelite men are commanded to separate from their wives before the revelation at Sinai. The rabbis learn from this that Moses permanently separated from his wife (Num 12), to be available to speak with God at all times. Joseph ibn Kaspi (14th c.), however, claims that this distorts the plain meaning of the text and that celibacy is an affront to Jewish values.

A midrash on the phrase venikdash bikhevodi, “and it shall be sanctified by my glory” (Exod 29:43) suggests that God is unusually strict when He punishes those who are close to Him. Rashbam strenuously objected to this popular midrash.

Rashi (Rabbi Solomon b. Isaac) wrote the most famous Jewish Bible commentary in history. Over 900 years later, scholars still argue about the nature of the commentary: Is it an attempt to explain peshat, the plain meaning of the biblical text, or is it an anthology of midrash?

Ibn Ezra gives a surprising non-explanation for why Deuteronomy’s version of the Decalogue differs from that of Exodus: Is it really such a problem if Moses changed the words a little as long as he got the point right?

Leviticus’ list of conjugally-forbidden relations was extensive for its time. While the Karaites expanded the list greatly, the rabbis did so only slightly, leaving modern-day rabbinic Judaism with more relatives permitted for marriage than most western societies.

For the first nine hundred years after the writing of the Mishnah in the early third century, Jews thought that laws about bailees or custodians (שומרים) in the Mishnah and in the Talmud corresponded closely to the plain meaning (peshat) of the Torah. But in the Middle Ages, Rashbam challenged that assumption, proposing an understanding of the Torah that contradicted Jewish law.

The Torah reading on the afternoon of Yom Kippur consists of the list of forbidden sexual relations (Leviticus 18).  How do these laws connect to Yom Kippur? 

Do the rabbis believe that the scribes changed the wording of some verses in the Bible? A look at how the great medieval rabbi, Rashi, reacted to one “correction” sheds light on the history of the Jewish belief in the inviolability of the Torah text.

Abraham’s servant says that his master told him to take a wife for Isaac from his family, but Abraham said no such thing. Why does the servant say this and why did medieval pashtanim ignore this blatant discrepancy?^[1]

Esau kisses Jacob upon the latter’s return from Haran. Famously, in the Torah scroll, the word kiss is dotted, implying that his kiss may have been more (or less) than just a kiss. Nevertheless, perhaps in this case, “a kiss is but a kiss.”

The Torah mentions the ephod as something the high priest would wear, but never describes it clearly, and neither do the Talmudic sages. Medieval scholars like Rashi and Rashbam use their creativity and analytical skill to try to tease this out from the biblical text.

Although incest taboos are found in the majority of cultures, medieval Jewish thinkers found this to be an insufficient explanation for the Torah’s prohibitions. 

Philosophically inclined rabbis, such as Maimonides, attempted to understand the mitzvah to love God in Aristotelian terms, imagining God as a non-anthropomorphic abstract being. Shadal argues that this elitist approach twists both Torah and philosophy, and in its place, he offers a moralistic approach that can be achieved by all Jews.

The Approaches of Chazal and the Pashtanim

The book of Esther is a study in antisemitism. It is the only biblical book that portrays antisemitism, and itself has been the subject of criticism with antisemitic overtones. 

The need for medieval exegetes to suggest a plausible alternative to the Christian exegesis of this ritual.

Deuteronomy 13 discusses the case of a false prophet who does not have a message from God, but advocates worshiping other gods. Oddly enough, the false prophet can successfully perform miracles, or is able to predict the future.  How is this possible?

On Chanukah we celebrate the miraculous military victories of the “few over the many,” and of Jewish culture over Greek.  Ironically, however, Chanukah has also bequeathed to us a new genre of Jewish literature, one that has been in frequent use ever since: Greek-style stories of bravery in defeat and dying for the cause.

What is it about tzitzit that “recalls all the commandments of God and makes you observe them” (Num 15:39)? While the rabbis emphasize the importance of tzitzit, academic scholarship sheds light on what such a feature would have meant in an Ancient Near Eastern context.

Impurity is transferred through physical contact. Theologically speaking, could the same be true for holiness?

We sit in the sukkah to remind us that “I (God) made the Israelites live in sukkot when I brought them out of the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 23:43). Accordingly, why isn’t Sukkot celebrated in the month of Nissan, when we left Egypt?

What does the root רצח actually mean: to kill or to murder? A look at Rashbam’s attempted (and failed?) solution highlights the ethical ramifications of Bible translation.

The law of the eglah arufah (the heifer whose neck is broken) has puzzled both traditional and modern commentators. What is it meant to accomplish? How does it work?

In Avinu Malkeinu, we say, “Our Father, our King, act for us for the sake of Your name.” Is God still worried about His reputation? 

A medieval non-traditional interpretation of arami oved avi and the push-back against it. 

The works of medieval exegetes such as Maimonides, Rashbam and Ibn Ezra demonstrate that Judaism has a long-standing tradition of studying the Torah critically.

Leviticus 19:13 and Deuteronomy 24:14 insist that workers be paid without delay. The Talmud, however, interprets these two verses in a way that actually delays paying the workers. Rashbam and Ramban, reassert the peshat (plain meaning), thereby preserving the intent of the law.

Rashbam’s New Peshat