Rashbam

The shift in biblical exegesis from homiletic readings to literary, contextual commentaries has its roots in Charlemagne's 9th century Carolingian Revolution. It comes to the fore only in the 11th century with Rashi's quasi-peshat commentary, soon followed by the peshat approach of R. Joseph Kara and Rashbam.

When Joseph reveals himself to his brothers, he says, “I am your brother, whom you sold into Egypt” (Gen 45:4). Tradition takes for granted that Joseph’s brothers were indeed the ones who sold him. However, as Rashbam and Shadal note, a straightforward peshat reading of events once Joseph is thrown into the pit reveals a different conclusion.

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.

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 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.

The term לשוח is a hapax legomenon (a term that appears only once in the Bible). What does it mean?

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?

After the shocking death of Nadav and Avihu, Moses says to Aaron that this is what God meant when he said, “through those near to me I will sanctify Myself.”  Rashi, Rashbam, and Nahmanides struggle to understand the meaning of Moses’ message.

The significance of Rashbam’s surprising observation about Kohelet for understanding introductions and conclusions to biblical books.

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

Moses' control over prophecy is successfully challenged.

At stake is Ibn Ezra’s curse: “May your tongue stick to your palate… may your arm dry up and your right eye go blind.” 

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.

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. 

In a polemical response to Christian and Jewish allegorical interpretation of the Torah’s laws, Bekhor Shor writes that just as God speaks to Moses “clearly and without riddles” (Num 12:8), so too the Torah is clear and means what it says, and should not be interpreted allegorically.^[1]

Rashbam’s New Peshat