The Star Spangled Banner and The Song at the Sea of Exodus 15

Reuven Kimelman

The most rousing expression of American Civil Religion is the well-known The Star-Spangled Banner[1] sung ritually at patriotic events especially on July 4. What is less known is how much the American anthem was inspired by ancient Israel’s hymn, the Song at the Sea.[2]

Both the Song at the Sea in Exodus 15 and the Anthem were triggered by a wondrous upset. As America surprisingly eluded the British effort to resubjugate them at Chesapeake Bay, so Israel miraculously eluded the Egyptian onslaught to resubjugate them at the Re[e]d Sea.

Each of these events inspired songs that liturgize the baffling reversal by compressing the past into the present, where the singers bear witness to their astonishing deliverance. More than mirroring the event, the songs re-enact it, placing singer and listener at the event.

Seeing the parallel with the ancient Israelites, Francis Scott Key composed an Anthem reverberating with echoes of the Song as he composed other biblically-nourished hymns including “Lord, with Glowing heart I’d Praise Thee” and “Before the Lord We Bow.”[3]

Both Anthem and Song begin with a double reference to visualizing the victory thereby transforming the vocalists into eyewitnesses:

The Anthem begins: “O say can you see”; “O’er the ramparts we watched”; whereas Exodus introduces the Song with “Israel saw Egypt dead on the shore of the sea” (14:30). And “Israel saw the wondrous power which God had wielded against the Egyptians” (14:31).

Both focus twice on the visibility of morning: The Anthem opens with “O say can you see, by the dawn’s early light,” and then notes synonymously in the second stanza: “Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam in full glory reflected now shines in the stream.” Similarly, the Song notes, “At the morning watch, God looked down upon the Egyptian army from a pillar of fire and cloud and threw the Egyptian army into panic” (Exod. 14:24), then noting “at dawn the sea returned to its normal state” (Exod.14:27).

Both emphasize the impact of seeing the dead on the shore:

The Anthem begins its second stanza with “On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes.” The Song says: “And that the enemy was seen dead on the shore of the sea” (Exod. 14:30). The Anthem and the Song refer to the enemy’s arrogance similarly: The Anthem says: “The foe haughty host” (second stanza); whereas the Song quotes the “foe” arrogantly screaming his sevenfold murderous intentions “I, I, I, my, I, my, my” (Exod. 15:19).

Both focus listeners’ imaginations on the waters of the deep and the blowing of the wind in describing the battle: The Anthem notes “the mists of the deep” and “the breeze … fitfully blows” (second stanza); whereas the Song states: “The deeps covered them” (Exod. 15:4); “You made Your wind blow, the sea covered them” (Exod. 15:10).

A line added to the Anthem during the Civil War underscores the ramifications of those saved: “By the millions unchained, who our birthright have gained”; whereas the middle of the Song states: “In Your love You lead the people You redeemed” (Exod. 15:13).

Finally, both paeans place their trust in a saving God. The Anthem concludes with: “Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation,” saying “our motto – “In God is our trust”; whereas the Song is introduced, proclaiming: “On that day, God saved Israel from the hand of Egypt” (Exod. 14:30) initiating the Song with: “They trusted in God” (Exod.14:31).

As the Song begins, so the Anthem ends.

Indeed, the title itself, “The Star-Spangled Banner,” harks back to Israel’s triumph over Amalek in the next scene where it states: “God is my banner” (Exod. 17:15)

Unbeknownst to the millions who have sung the Anthem. The Star-Spangled Banner serves as the American version of the liturgized biblical Song at the Sea, emblazoned in our memory and abiding on our lips.

Key Words in the Narrative of Aaron’s Death

Itamar Warhaftig

Rabbi Dr. Itamar Warhaftig is professor of Jewish law (emeritus) at Bar-Ilan University and affiliated with the Zomet Institute in Alon Shvut.

In the account of Aaron’s death (Numbers 20:22–29), several leitwort-style expressions appear—that is, words or phrases that recur at least twice. Let us trace these occurrences and examine their significance.

The phrase “Aaron shall be gathered to his people” appears in verse 24, and again in verse 26: “And Aaron shall be gathered and shall die there.”

This expression—“to be gathered to his people”—demands explanation, even aside from its repetition.

This phrase appears in the Torah in four other death-related contexts:

Regarding Abraham: “and he was gathered to his people” (Gen. 25:8);

Regarding Isaac: “and he was gathered to his people” (Gen. 35:29);

Regarding Jacob: “and he was gathered to his people” (Gen. 49:33);

Regarding Moses: “and be gathered to your people, as Aaron your brother died” (Deut. 32:50); and in that same verse, the phrase is reiterated in reference to Aaron: “as Aaron your brother died on Mount Hor and was gathered to his people.”

In other words, only the national leaders—the Patriarchs, Moses, and Aaron—were granted this particular form of epitaph.[1]

What does this expression mean? Ibn Ezra, commenting on Genesis 25:8, writes:

“He was gathered to his people”—some say this refers to the honor of the soul: as long as it is preoccupied with the body, it is as if divided or separate. When the body is separated, the honor is gathered to its people.

Others say that this is simply an idiom, meaning he followed the path of his ancestors, as in: “and you shall go to your fathers in peace” (Gen. 15:15).

The first interpretation requires further elucidation. Let us cite the explanation of R. David Zvi Hoffmann (on Genesis ad loc.), who follows Ibn Ezra:

“All of these expressions indicate that among the people of Israel, there always existed a belief in life after death. Death was not perceived as annihilation, but rather as a reunion with one’s ancestors or with members of the nation who had already departed, all of whom become united in the World of Truth. The punishment incurred by one who transgresses certain sins is: “that soul shall be cut off from his people” (Leviticus 17:9)—that is, he will no longer be united with the rest of his people after death. It is worth noting that this punishment is generally directed at the soul, whereas the aforementioned expressions concerning death do not explicitly reference the soul. It may be that this is because the punishment targets the soul in particular, whereas the body is in any case gathered to the ancestral grave. By contrast, the phrase “he was gathered to his people” pertains, from the outset, to both body and soul together.”

One may further infer from this a veiled allusion to the World to Come, in the sense of a realm of souls. Moreover, this realm of souls exists in the collective gathering of the people of Israel. There is, as it were, a kind of spiritual center of souls, into which the great leaders of the nation are especially gathered—namely, the Patriarchs, Moses, and Aaron.[2]

The second recurring expression is “Mount Hor” (Num. 20:22), repeated in verse 23: “at Mount Hor.”

Rashi comments: “A mountain atop a mountain, like a small apple atop a large one.”

It seems to me that there is here an allusion to Aaron’s persona. He is a leader elevated above his people—yet a small leader in two senses. First, he stands in the shadow of the great leader, Moses. Second, he lowered himself to the people during the episode of the Golden Calf—he seemingly joined them, for he did not want the people to descend entirely into ruin, to a point of irreparable damage (see below). As is well known, Aaron was also one who loved peace and pursued peace[3]—and for this reason the parashah concludes with the verse: “And all the house of Israel wept for Aaron for thirty days” (Num. 20:29). Rashi comments: “The men and the women, because Aaron pursued peace and instilled love between disputants and between husband and wife.”

That is, a small mountain directly joined to the larger section beneath it.

Another recurring expression is “kol ha‘edah”—“all the congregation.”

“And the children of Israel, all the congregation, came” (Num. 20:22); again in verse 27: “before the eyes of all the congregation”; and a third time in verse 29: “and all the congregation saw.”

Several questions arise here: What is the meaning of the term ‘edah (“congregation”)? What is the significance of the emphasis on “kol ha‘edah” (“all the congregation”)? And in the first verse, another difficulty emerges: what is the import of the redundancy “the children of Israel, all the congregation”?

Let us begin with the first question. The initial occurrence of this expression is in Exodus 12:3: “Speak to all the congregation of Israel, saying: On the tenth of this month, let each man take a lamb for his father’s house, a lamb for each household.”

R. Samson Raphael Hirsch explains: “‘Adat’, ‘edah’ derives from the root יעד (ya‘ad) – to designate a purpose; it denotes a collective bound together by the unity of its function.”[4]

Thus, the designation ‘edah also carries the connotation of unity. In this context, the Torah emphasizes that the entire congregation was united in accompanying Aaron at his departure, for Aaron was beloved by all—one who loved peace and pursued peace.

Rashi infers the same from the redundancy of “the children of Israel” and “the congregation”, as cited above.

Since one could already derive this from the threefold repetition of the word “all” (kol), I would like to propose a different resolution for the redundancy of “the children of Israel” and “the congregation.”

The distinction between Israel and Jacob is well known. The name Israel connotes those of distinction; the name Jacob, the less significant. Thus writes Malbim in his commentary to Isaiah 43:1:

“There is a difference between Jacob and Israel:
Jacob is used when they are in a lowly state,
Israel is used when they are elevated and conduct themselves above nature, miraculously.”

That is, with regard to their origins—which in allegory relate to the material substance of the nation—they are Jacob. But with respect to their essential form, they are Israel: princes and sovereigns over nature and its affairs.

The Torah wishes to indicate that at this moment, the death of Aaron, the children of Israel in some measure repaired the sin of the Golden Calf. Aaron had attempted to dissuade them from sinning. At first he said, “a festival to the Lord tomorrow” (Exod. 32:5). Rashi comments: “He meant to delay them… perhaps Moses would return before they served it.” When that failed and he requested the golden earrings, Rashi explains: “He said, better the sin be attached to me than to them.”

The Talmud had already noted Aaron’s self-sacrifice. In Sanhedrin 7a we read:

“R. Tanchum bar Chanilai said: This verse was said only in reference to the Golden Calf. As it is written: “And Aaron saw and built an altar before it”—what did he see?”

R. Binyamin bar Yefet said in the name of R. Elazar: He saw that Hur had been slaughtered before him. He said: If I do not obey them now, they will do to me what they did to Hur (whom they murdered), and the verse will be fulfilled in me: “Shall a priest and prophet be slain in the Temple of the Lord?”—and they will never be able to be repaired.

Better that they should serve the calf, and then perhaps they can still repent. (Targum ad loc.)

In his commentary Ha‘ameq Davar to Exodus 32:5, the Netziv explains Aaron’s thought process:

And although he knew that he would not escape judgment—having caused many people to sin in idolatry—nonetheless this righteous man gave over his soul and spirit out of love for Israel.”

Now, they remembered his kindness and came together to honor him. And they elevated themselves to the level of “Israel”. The entire congregation now came to part from Aaron—who had never parted from them, even in their hour of sin.[5]

To summarize: the Torah employs several key words and guiding expressions that are attuned to the spirit of the passage.

If I am correct, it is worth investigating whether this phenomenon recurs in other passages of the Torah.

Notes:

This article is a translation of Itamar Warhaftig, “Key Words in the Narrative of Aaron’s Death,” Daf Shvui (Bar-Ilan University), no. 1625: Parashat Chukat (5 July 2025): 3-4 (Hebrew).

[1] It is true that Ishmael too is described as being “gathered to his people” (Gen. 25:17), which perhaps intimates that he repented.
[2] In contrast to this, not only those liable for karet (spiritual excision) are excluded, as R. David Zvi Hoffmann notes, but even other sinners—for example, a priest who marries a divorcée loses his sanctity, as it is written: “He shall not defile himself as a husband among his people so as to profane himself” (Lev. 21:4); see Rashi there.
[3] Mishnah Avot 1:12: Hillel and Shammai received [the tradition] from them. Hillel says: “Be of the disciples of Aaron—one who loves peace and pursues peace, who loves all creatures and draws them near to the Torah.”
[4] In his commentary to Exodus 16:1, R. Hirsch also remarks on the phrase “all the congregation of the children of Israel”:

“The phrase kol adat benei Yisrael denotes the entirety of the Israelite public in its loftiest sense—the whole people unified in its common purpose. It is the entire nation destined to be the congregation of the Lord. The emphasis on the designation ‘edah at the outset of the narrative prepares the reader’s heart for the coming events, which are of great importance to the collective destiny of the congregation of Israel.”
[5] One should also mention that Aaron halted the plague following the sin of Korah and his assembly, by undertaking a perilous act as he ran with the incense. This deed deserves separate analysis, which is beyond the scope of this discussion.

ועשו להם ציצת – What to Make of Tzitzit

By Joseph Wertzberger [1]

ויאמר ה׳ אל משה
דבר אל־בני ישראל ואמרת אלהם ועשו להם ציצת על־כנפי בגדיהם לדרתם ונתנו על ציצת הכנף פתיל תכלת
והיה לכם לציצת וראיתם אתו וזכרתם את כל מצות ה׳ ועשיתם אתם, ולא תתורו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם אשר אתם זנים אחריהם
למען תזכרו ועשיתם את כל מצותי והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם
אני ה׳ אלקיכם אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלקים, אני ה׳ אלקיכם
במדבר ט׳׳ו, ל׳׳ז – מ׳׳א

And HaShem said to Moshe as follows.
Speak to the people of Israel and tell them they should make themselves fringes on the ends of their garments, for generations, and place on the end-fringes a techelet-thread.
And they shall serve you as glance-objects – when you see them you’ll recall all HaShem’s orders and do them, and you won’t follow your hearts’ and eyes’ explorations, after which you tend to stray.
So that you recall and perform all my orders, and are ordained to your god.
I am HaShem, your god, that took you out of the land of Egypt to be your god, I am HaShem your god.

Numbers 15, 37-41

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Archeologists recently published[2] new findings regarding the history of Tel Shiqmona, a site near present-day Haifa that was a large-scale production facility for techelet and argaman,[3] the deep blue and purple dyes used in ancient Israel and throughout the Near East during the First-Temple period and later.

Understanding techelet and its role in the ancient world can help us better appreciate how it, together with tzitzit, may have been viewed in early First-Temple Israel, and to more clearly recognize some of the ideas presented in its parsha and in related parshiot in the Torah.

Techelet was produced from the glandular excretions of the Murex trunculus sea-snail using an elaborate production method, and was the most valuable dye in the ancient Near-Eastern world — by some sources it took two-hundred and fifty thousand shells to produce one ounce of dye, which was then worth, by weight, three times the value of gold.[4] Due to its prized status and high cost, it was used in priestly vestments and royal garments[5] across the ancient Near East, including in Israel’s temple vestments.[6]

Techelet’s role in tzitzit can be understood as a signifier that, in contrast to other ancient Near-Eastern religions, in which the priestly class served as intermediaries between the people and their gods,[7] in ancient Judaism the entirety of the Jewish people and all of its members were conceived as a semi-priestly class, with each individual given direct access and communion to God, and all people required to serve him,[8] with sexual, dietary[9] and clothing rules applicable to each of them and signifying their special status.

Like the Israelite priesthood itself, which utilized techelet extensively in its raiment, and also perhaps in similitude to royal garments, individual Jews wore an article of clothing that included a small amount of techelet as a miniature priestly or royal vestment, reminding the wearer that they belong to a class of people vested with particular rules, and requiring maintenance of a higher order of behavior.[10][11][12]

Tzitzit and techelet are not simply objects randomly chosen to serve as reminders to keep the mitzvot. Rather, they signify the wearer’s membership in an elevated class of people to whom the mitzvot apply as part of class membership.

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The root-word ציץ refers to a bud or a blossom,[13] to fringes or tassels,[14] and to the act of peeking,[15][16][17][18] and in its variants can be used in both noun and verb format.[19]

Understanding this reveals the beautiful and poetic wordplay-based meaning of parshat tzitzit, which juxtaposes two conceptions of the root-word ציץ playing off each other to provide the fuller meaning of the word ציצת, and the message of the passage and of the מצוה itself.

In the word’s initial appearance in verse 38, the Jews are told to make ציצת, bud-like thread-fringes, at the ends of their garments. In the next verse, the meaning of the word based on its sentence-context changes to the noun version of the work peek – an object to peek at.[20] The tzitzit together with their techelet are symbols of Israel’s special relationship with God, and thus serve as reminder-objects to regularly look at — “They shall be for you glance-objects,[21] for when you see them, you’ll recall the commandments…”.[22][23]

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All of which adds color to our understanding of the story of Korach and his arguments against Moshe and Aharon.

The reason the incident of Korach is placed directly after the chapter of tzitzit in the Torah is because Korach’s arguments flow directly from the ideas presented in that chapter. The foundational concept in the parsha of tzitzit is that all Jews are a royal and priestly class, all are קדשים לאלקיכם – sacred and dedicated to God; that God took the Jewish people out of Egypt, להיות לכם לאלקים, to be directly a God of all of the Jewish people – אני ה׳ אלקיכם. Comes Korach and argues, if all Jews are uniquely members of a royal and priestly class in direct communion with God, then why are separate priestly and ruling classes needed to lord over them and to mediate between them and the divine. Korach notes, כי כל העדה כלם קדשים )based on והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם); ובתוכם ה׳ )paralleling אני ה׳ אלקיכם אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלקים, אני ה׳ אלקיכם) and therefore ומדוע תתנשאו על קהל ה׳. The words in Parshat Korach, and Korach’s message, directly address the words and the message in the chapter preceding it.

Many readers are now surely recalling the well-known midrash, a version of which appears in Rashi on the first verse in Parshat Korach, according to which Korach used tzitzit and techelet as a metaphor in his arguments against Moshe and the priesthood’s rule over Israel, contending that an article of clothing made entirely of techelet should not require tzitzit.[24] The meaning of the midrash is made clearer through our understanding of the parshiot. The crux of Korach’s argument is based on techelet’s inclusion in tzitzit as a symbol of priesthood and royalty, signifying the elements of priesthood and royalty carried by all Jews. The midrash elucidates this, and highlights the Korach story’s placement immediately after tzitzit, by elaborating on Korach’s arguments and their premises in the ideas behind techelet. Like a royal garment all of techelet should not need another strand of techelet to make it royal, the Jewish people, who are all part of a royal class, as signified by their own techelet, should not need another royal class to lord over them. Since all Jews have priestly status and are connected to God, what sense is there in adding another priestly appendage? Like a royal or priestly garment does not need an additional purple thread to signify and manifest its meaning, a nation that is itself entirely royal and priestly, should not need other superior and ministerial classes added to it.[25]

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To round out the discussion, let’s take a look at another midrash that discusses tzitzit and touches on many of the ideas and themes mentioned above.

ועשו להם ציצת על כנפי בגדיהם. זה שאמר הכתוב אור זרע לצדיק ולישרי לב שמחה (תהלים צ׳׳ז – י׳׳א), ה’ חפץ למען צדקו (ישעיה מ׳׳ב – כ׳׳א). זרע להם הקדוש ברוך הוא את התורה ואת המצות לישראל, כדי להנחילם חיי העולם הבא, ולא הניח דבר בעולם שלא נתן בו מצוה לישראל. יצא לחרש, לא תחרש בשור ובחמור, לזרע, לא תזרע כרמך כלאים, לקצר, כי תקצר קצירך בשדה… נתכסה בטלית, ועשו להם ציצת

תנחומא, שלח, סי׳ ט׳׳ו; רבה, במדבר, סי׳ י׳׳ז

“And they should make themselves tzitzit”: Regarding this it is written, “A light shines for the righteous, and there is joy for the straight-hearted” (Tehillim 97-11), “God desired the sake of his righteousness” (Yeshaya 42-21). God sowed Torah and mitzvot for Israel, in order that they inherit eternal life, and he did not leave a thing in the world regarding which he didn’t give a commandment to Israel. A person goes out to plow, “Don’t plow with an ox and donkey”; to sow, “Do not sow your vineyard mixed varieties”; to harvest, “When you harvest in the field”… [the midrash then mentions many other mitzvot that apply to various tasks, and ends with] he covers himself with a cloak, “they should make themselves tzitzit”.

Tanchuma Shelach 15; Rabbah Bamidbar 17.

To better understand the midrash and the significance of its two introductory verses, one needs to see the fuller context of those verses.[26]

אור זרע לצדיק ולישרי⁠ לב שמחה. שמחו צדיקים בה׳ והודו לזכר קדשו. תהלים צ׳׳ז, י׳׳א – י׳׳ב

A light is implanted for the righteous, and there is joy for the straight-hearted. Righteous, rejoice in God, and praise the recollection of his sacredness. Tehillim 97, 11-12.

החרשים שמעו והעורים הביטו לראות. מי עור כי אם⁠ עבדי וחרש כמלאכי אשלח, מי עור כמשלם ועור כעבד ה׳. ראות רבות ולא תשמר פקוח אזנים ולא ישמע. ה׳ חפץ למען צדקו יגדיל תורה ויאדיר. ישעיה מ׳׳ב, י׳׳ח – כ׳׳א

Deaf ones, listen, and blind ones, look and see. Who is blind, but only my servant, who as deaf as the messenger I send; who as blind as the wholesome, as blind as the servant of God. Seeing much and paying no heed, open-eared and hearing not. God desires the sake of his righteousness, let the directives be great, and more mighty. Isaiah 42, 18-21.

We can recognize numerous allusions and references to tzitzit, which help us understand the midrash’s message.

אור זרוע לצדיק – Mitzvot, of course, are Ohr Zarua because they are a light that guides our path, and were implanted into the activities of the world; but tzitzit, representing all of the mitzvot, are particularly so – titzit’s root-word includes an allusion to shining light, and to planted blossoms, and it protects the person from sinning, assisting to make him righteous.

ולישרי לב שמחה — In reminding the person of the mitzvot, the tzitzit assist to keep the person’s heart straight, protecting it from straying. (ולא תתורו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם אשר אתם זנים אחריהם)

שמחו צדיקים בה׳ והודו לזכר קדשו – That righteous person who thereby kept the mitzvot should praise and be grateful for the tzitzit, the reminders of sacredness – למען תזכרו ועשיתם את כל מצותי והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם.

Now on to the verses in Yeshaya…

והעורים הביטו לראות. מי עור כי אם⁠ עבדי… מי עור כמשלם ועור כעבד ה׳. ראות רבות ולא תשמר… – The midrash exposits these verses as a reference to the person who looks at and sees his tzitzit but whose eyes are at the same time blind to other temptations. As commanded in the verse in Bamidbar, he looks at his tzitzit, recalls and performs all of the mitzvot, is a servant of God, stays wholesome, and becomes righteous, while blind and paying no heed to the things that would otherwise lead him astray (והיה לכם לציצת וראיתם אתו וזכרתם את כל מצות ה׳ ועשיתם אתם, ולא תתורו אחרי… עיניכם אשר אתם זנים אחריהם.).

ה׳ חפץ למען צדקו יגדיל תורה ויאדיר – God desires the sake of righteousness,[27] and therefore he made the Torah and its commandments greater by making them more numerous and all-encompassing, so that they serve to protect us against sinning and keep us righteous.[28] And the tzitzit are what serve to remind us to keep all of those commandments – [29]למען תזכרו ועשיתם את כל מצותי.

Looking back now at the verses in the chapter on tzitzit, one notices how many of its words and ideas are presented and cross-referenced in the two passages in Tehillim and Yeshaya as exposited by the midrash: the meaning of the word Tzitzit as a blossom, and as a shining light, tzitzit assisting their wearer and seer to remain righteous, to recall all of the very many mitzvot, to serve God and keep them, to remain wholesome and righteous, not to stray after one’s heart, and not to stray after one’s eyes.

והיה לכם לציצת וראיתם אתו וזכרתם את כל מצות ה׳ ועשיתם אתם, ולא תתורו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם אשר אתם זנים אחריהם. למען תזכרו ועשיתם את כל מצותי והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם

Almost everything in these two verses on tzitzit is cross-referenced somewhere in the passages mentioned in the midrash.

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Having said all of this one cannot help but end with the well-known Mishna that closes Tractate Makot:

רבי חנניה בן עקשיא אומר רצה הקב”ה לזכות את ישראל לפיכך הרבה להם תורה ומצות שנאמר ה’ חפץ למען צדקו יגדיל תורה ויאדיר. מכות ג׳ – ט׳׳ז

In light of the midrash just discussed, we recognize that the word לזכות as used in the Mishna means to purify (rather than to provide merit, the more common contemporary translation of the word as used in the passage). The numerous mitzvot serve to keep those who perform them pure, to help stay them from sin, and to maintain their righteousness.[30]

This also helps explain the Mishna’s placement at the end of the last chapter of Makot, which is comprised of lengthy lists of sins and descriptions of their punishments. In light of that, and also so as not to close the tractate with all of that negative material, the Mishna quotes this teaching regarding how mitzvot’s abundance serves to protect us from the many sins, and leads us in their stead to good.

[1] The author is the creator of the YouTube channel, Understanding Kohelet.
[2] Shalvi G., Sukenik N., Waiman-Barak P., Dunseth Z.C., Bar S., Pinsky S., et al. (2025), Tel Shiqmona during the Iron Age: A first glimpse into an ancient Mediterranean purple dye ‘factory’, PLoS ONE 20(4): e0321082 (https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0321082); Shalvi, G., & Gilboa, A. (2023). Between Israel and Phoenicia: The Iron IIA–B Fortified Purple-dye Production Centre at Tel Shiqmona, Tel Aviv, 50(1), 75–110 (https://doi.org/10.1080/03344355.2023.2190283).

See also, Mihailo S. Zekic, The Secrets of Tel Shikmona, Let the Stones Speak Magazine, July – August 2023, (https://armstronginstitute.org/933-the-secrets-of-tel-shikmona); Lidz, Franz, In Israel, a 3,000-Year-Old Purple Factory, NYTimes, March 5, 2024, (https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/05/science/archaeology-tyrian-purple-murex.html); Margolis, Andrea, Archeologists Uncover Ancient “Factory” Used to Produce Coveted Purple Dye Mentioned in Bible, Fox News Online, May 10, 2025 (https://www.foxnews.com/travel/archaeologists-uncover-ancient-factory-used-produce-coveted-purple-dye-mentioned-bible).
[3] Argaman is also known as Tyrian purple.
[4] Zaria Gorvett, Tyrian Purple: The lost ancient pigment that was more valuable than gold, BBC Online, November 24, 2023 (https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20231122-tyrian-purple-the-lost-ancient-pigment-that-was-more-valuable-than-gold#).
[5] E.g., Esther 8-15.
[6] E.g., Shemot, Chapter 28.
[7] See, for example, Ada Taggar-Cohen, Priests and priestesses, ancient near east (June 30, 2015), in The Encyclopedia of Ancient History (https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/9781444338386.wbeah25085).
[8] ואתם תהיו לי ממלכת כהנים וגוי קדוש. שמות י׳׳ט ו׳

And you will be dedicated to me, a nation of priests, and a consecrated people. Shemot 19-6.
[9]  רמב׳׳ם, משנה תורה, סדר קדושה.
[10] This is alluded to in וראיתם אתו… ועשיתם את כל מצותי והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם, which expresses tzitzit’s role as a representative sign of the Jewish nation’s sacredness as a people dedicated to God and ordained to serve him.
[11] It may also be that fringes at the ends of garments themselves also signified royalty or the priestly class. See Stephen Bertman, Tasseled Garments in the Ancient Near East Mediterranean, The Biblical Archeologist, Vol. 24, No. 4 (Dec., 1961); Jacob Milgrom, Hems and Tassels, Biblical Archology Review, Volume IX, No. 3 (May/June 1983). Turning the weft that remained at either end of a garment into ornamental tassels would have been a way of indicating the significance of the wearer, contrasting with ordinary garments which would have had the ends of their wefts sewn into a straight hem, to make the clothing more utilitarian and also more durable. See also, Kelly Olson, Fringed Clothing in Roman iconography and written sources, Chapter 11 in Textiles in Ancient Mediterranean Iconography (Oxbow Books, 2022), and Ancient Fashion: Fringed Clothing in Roman Iconography and Written Sources, at https://brewminate.com/ancient-fashion-fringed-clothing-in-roman-iconography-and-written-sources.
[12] Another area where a parallel exists between the service of Israel’s priestly class and that of the ordinary Jewish “semi-priesthood”, is the prohibition on leaven in the Temple (Shemot, 34-25, and elsewhere), which applies to all of the Jewish people during their Pesach sacrifice and subsequent holiday.
[13] והיתה ציצת נובל צבי תפארתו, אשר על ראש גיא שמנים כבכורה בטרם קיץ, אשר יראה הראה אותה, בעודה בכפו יבלענה. ישעיה כ’’ח ד׳

הבאים ישרש יעקב, יציץ ופרח ישראל, ומלאו פני תבל תנובה. ישעיה כ’’ז ו׳
[14]  וישלח תבנית יד ויקחנו בציצת ראשי. יחזקאל ח׳ ג׳
[15] דומה דודי לצבי או לעפר האילים, הנה זה עומד אחר כתלנו, משגיח מן החלנות מציץ מן החרכים. שה’’ש ב׳ ט׳
[16] Consider also the interesting example of, .בפרח רשעים כמו עשב ויציצו כל פעלי און… ותבט עיני בשורי
[17] Of course the word ציץ‘s meanings of blossom and peek are related, since blossoms are the first peeks of a plant’s flower and color.

It’s interesting to note that just like the English word peek is used to refer both to the thing that is just barely seen peeking out of a crack, and to the person that is peeking and just barely sees something, the Hebrew word מציץ can have a similar dual use, as seen in the poetic utilization of the word מציץin the verse in Shir HaShirim referred to in note 15, where the lover peeking through the cracks in the verse can be understood as the lover looking at his beloved through the cracks (see, for example, Rashi, Rashbam and ibn Ezra), but also as the countenance of the lover just barely appearing to his beloved through the cracks (R’ Yosef Kimchi, Metzudat David and Ho’il Moshe, as well as Rashbam in Shemot 28-36) — the woman gets a glimpse of her lover, who then disappears, and later in verse 14 she beseeches him to appear again.

See also Me’or Eineyim, Bereshit and Pinchas, in the name of the Ba’al Shem Tov, that the concept of מציץ מן החרכים alludes to a person’s tendency to want to do the right thing due to the perception that people are watching and paying attention to them, and that this is in fact a manifestation of what in reality is the person’s desire to do the right thing due to their perception of God observing them. We feel and respond to our perception of human observation, but we are really perceiving God’s essence, so to speak, observing us; manifesting through our perception of humans’ perception – God is, so to speak, מציץ מן החרכים.

Here too, the Baal Shem Tov’s interpretation of the passage as reflected through this teaching can be understood as reading the word מציץ in the verse both as God observing us and watching us through the people that surround us, as well as God appearing to us through our sense of people’s observation.

The teaching contains a similar idea to the Baal Shem Tov’s well-known teaching regarding ה׳ צלך, that not only is God a shadow over the human, protecting them, but also a shadow of the human, appearing to the human as the human understands God; and is also typical of many of the Baal Shem Tov’s teachings in that it contains several layers of meaning that are related to one another and nest inside each other.
[18] With regard to the ציץ of the High Priest, there are various interpretations regarding the source of the word, for example ibn Ezra interprets it as similar to ויקחנו בציצת ראשי (see note 14), while Rashbam says it was called ציץ because it was seen, similarly to מציץ מן החרכים. It’s also possible that the source of the word was due to the shine glancing off of the ציץ, and how it added aura to the appearance of the High Priest, and made it ‘pop’, similarly to ועליו יציץ נזרו in Tehillim 132-18 (see also Chizkuni with a similar explanation). Again, of course all of these meanings are related, and it’s quite possible that the source of the word יציץ’s usage as shine and glance is itself based on light’s bursting forth from the shining object. In a similar light, R.S.R. Hirsch explains that the root word ציץ signifies something that protrudes and pops out of a surface, and that this is the source of the word’s usage for blossoms, fringes, peeking, as well as for the High Priest’s ציץ. See also Sifri, Bamidbar, 15-32, אין ציצת אלא דבר היוצא, ודבר כל שהוא, which supports to R.S.R. Hirsch’s interpretation. See also Divrei Yirmiyahu on Rambam, Mishnah Torah, Tzitzit, 1-1.

Speaking of which, it interesting to note that the ציץ, just like ציצת, incorporated a פתיל תכלת.
[19] אנושׁ כחציר ימיו, כציץ השדה כן יציץ. תהלים ק׳׳ג ט׳׳ו
[20] Rashbam and Ri Bechor Shor also note this change in the word’s meaning between verses 37 and 38. Interestingly, Rashi notes both fringes and looking as possible meanings of the word in verse 37, seemingly not taking the view that the word has different meanings in the two sentences.

The interpolation of the instruction to put techelet on the fringes coming between the two mentions of the word tzitzit, meshes well with reading a change in the word’s meaning between its two appearances, because it’s the techelet that makes the tzitzit a symbol of the Jews’ elevated status, thereby turning it in it into a handy reminder of its associated status’ accompanying behavioral requirements. ונתנו על ציצת הכנף פתיל תכלת –> והיה לכם לציצת In this reading these are not two unrelated phrases in sequence, but are in fact intended to be meaningfully read together, one related to the other.
[21] Unfortunately there is no English-language word equivalent to this concept, so I coined the word glance-object, or alternatively, look-object, somewhat similar to the word looking-glass.
[22] See also Tanchuma Bamidbar 15, Rabah Bamidbar 17-5 – והיה לכם לציצית, שתהא נראית… וראיתם אותו, פרט לכסות לילה. The word tzitzit itself already includes in its meaning the concept of being seen, even without the addition of וראיתם אותו.

Interestingly, this interpretation is first provided by the midrash in verse 38, and not in verse 37, while the Sifri’s exposition of the word tzitzit as signifying anything that protrudes, mentioned in note 18 above (and which seemingly contradicts the continuation of the midrash here in Tanchuma that provides a minimum length for tzitzit based on the requirement for it to be seen), is provided in verse 37. This seems to lend support to the idea that the meaning of the word changes between the two sentences.

Reading the first two uses of the word as fringes, and the third as referring to a larger mitzva of tzitzit with a broader meaning that encompasses both the fringe element and the techelet element works very well with the Rambam’s reading of tzitzit as two elements of one larger mitzva. Rambam, Mishnah Torah, Tzitzit, Chapter 1, Sections 1-5. Furthermore, with this perspective in mind we can also posit that the fringe element of the mitzva does not require a particular length, in accordance with the Tanchuma, while the combined fringe-techelet full mitzva of tzitzit requires a particular length, in accordance with the Sifri, since it is predicated on being seen. And in fact we must reconcile the Tanchuma and Sifri’s two readings halachically, and cannot read them as conflicting opinions, since the Sifri cites the elders of Bet Shamai and Bet Hillel as concurring on the point that tzitzit can be of any length as long as they protrude, while the Tanchuma cites a disagreement between Bet Hillel and Bet Shamai regarding different required lengths for tzitzit based on the requirement for them to be seen. In consonance with the Rambam’s reading and the explanation provided here, the two readings do not in fact contradict each other, neither halachically nor as a literary reading of the text, both of which support each other.

Incidentally, this is a case where one can follow the thread of halachic development very well. The Torah itself simply states in straightforward terms that one should create fringes at the ends of garments, and place techelet on the fringes, to have it be seen and serve as a reminder of the mitzvot. Chazal then flesh out the parameters more precisely based on the passages’ words and contextualized meanings — explaining tzitzit’s baseline concept as a simple protrusion, while noting that fulfillment of the fuller concept and its service as a seeable reminder requires a minimum that can be seen. The Rambam then forms the mitzva into a categorical set of parameterized components and rules tracking the requirements and concepts set out by Chazal. At each stage the mitzva and its details are presented using the language and conceptualization familiar to the Torah and expositors of the particular period, while expressing the same underlying ideas.
[23] Another interesting bit of wordplay in the passage is the juxtaposition of the words tzitzit and mitzvot. Both are somewhat similarly-sounding, and indeed, the tzitzit stand in as a reminder of the mitzvot.

I recall noticing as a child in shul, that when we got to the end of Keriyat Shema, you’d suddenly hear a lot of tz’s, s’s and z’s in the room, which had an interesting sound and ring to it. I used to think it was just a kind of funny random thing a child notices, but it turns out that the particularly perfusive profusion of sound in the passage is not an accident but in fact a feature of the passage’s poetry and wordplay (not dissimilar, for example, to the line צבאות צאנך יצלצלו בקול in Hakalir’s אדירי איומה, recited by Ashkenazim during shacharit on the first day of Rosh Hashana, or the line אלו ואלו בצפצוף מצפצפים in the similarly styled כל שנאני שחק, recited in the same place in the service on the second day).

And if we want to stretch the exercise further we might even say that the ז׳ in זכרתם also serves as a poetic counterpoint to the ז׳ in זנים – the tzitzit pull one back to the mitzvot, acting as a reminder to keep the mitzvot and not wander after the temptations pulling one away.
[24] The midrash is as follows, “’And Korach took…’ What is written prior to this matter, “Speak to the children of Israel and tell them to make themselves tzitzit”. Korach jumped on this point and said to Moshe, “does a garment all of techelet require tzitzit?” Moshe said to him it requires tzitzit. Said Korach, “a garment all of techelet does not exempt itself, and four threads exempt it?” Tanchuma Korach, Siman 2. Another story with a slightly different spin on how Korach arranged talitot and tzitzit to illustrate the ideas behind his argument is presented several lines later in the same midrash.

Note that the midrash also seems to be explicating the phrase “Vayikach Korach”, which is anomalous in that there is no object connected to the subject and verb. The Midrash explains that Korach “took” the chapter and the ideas that immediately precede the word “vayikach”. See also Tanchuma at the start of Siman 3, which states “ויקח קרח – לקח טליתו”, which seems to be phrasing the idea in a similar way, explicating the word “vayikach”.
[25] This is a good example of how classic midrash analyzes and identifies the literary references, and the larger ideas, meanings and messages, that underlie the Torah’s words, phrases and narratives, and their relationships and connections; and explicates and illustrates them using memorable story-form, metaphor and allegory.
[26] This is often the case with midrash. Our written versions of a particular midrashic teaching may quote only a brief snippet of the relevant verse being analyzed, while the full breadth and point of the midrash’s teaching become evident only in the light of, and often apply to, a much fuller extent of the quoted verse(s).
[27] The word צדקו in this verse also serves as a cross-reference to the word צדיק in the Tehillim verses.
[28] An additional connotation of the teaching is that the greater the Torah is (יגדיל), and the more commandments and rules it has, the mightier it is, and the more effect it has (יאדיר).
[29] The verse ה׳ חפץ למען צדקו as exposited in this midrash can also be read as a reference to the verse regarding tzitzit in Devarim 22-12, where tzitzit are called גדלים. ה׳ חפץ למען צדקו יגדיל תורה ויאדיר – in order to increase His desired righteousness, God represented the Torah and mitzvot in the gedilim, so that their wearers may perform the many mitzvot in the Torah and become great. And in fact the verseגדלים תעשה לך על ארבע כנפות כסותך in Devarim 22 – 12 comes directly after several of the other verses quoted in this midrash regarding the many and various mitzvot – the four verses directly preceding גדלים תעשה לך are all directly quoted in the midrash.
[30] This Mishna’s teaching reflects very well Chazal’s own project of building and enlarging Torah shebe’al peh as a means of clarifying, sharpening and expanding the contours of mitzvot and of the Torah, so that they serve as a stronger spiritual lattice and framework for the Jewish people, particularly after the loss of the Temple and its symbolic and ritualistic role as an identifying marker and base for Israel and for its connection to God, and following the exilic loss of the Jewish people’s identity tied to a land and a governing nation. מיום שחרב ביהמ”ק אין לו להקב”ה אלא ד’ אמות של הלכה בלבד (ברכות ח.) – the laws and rules of halacha act as a framework on which the Jewish people’s relationship with God establishes itself and is based upon, thereby serving as a space for God in this world, so to speak, in place of the Bet Hamikdash which had previously served this role.

Reuven Kimelman/Brandeis University

וְנַהֲפוֹךְ הוּא

“Why are the Books of Ruth and Esther so much alike?”

No title is more intriguing than “Why are the Books of Ruth and Esther so much alike?” for a study of two biblical books ostensibly having nothing in common besides the featuring of a heroine. Otherwise, there are hardly two narrative biblical books seemingly more unalike.[1] The Book of Ruth takes place in rural Judea, in Bethlehem, in the period of the Judges, before the establishment of the Jewish monarchy. The Book of Esther takes place in Shushan HaBirah, the fortressed-capital city of the Persian empire in the period of the Persian kings, over a half millennium later after the dissolution of the Jewish monarchy. The Book of Ruth employs classical Hebrew on the model of the Books of Samuel and Kings along with some locutions mostly found in late biblical Hebrew. The Book of Esther is of late biblical Hebrew, replete with Persian words and practices. In Ruth, a Moabite woman marries a Jew leading to the fathering of a king; in Esther, a Jewish woman marries a Gentile king with no mention of heirs. Ruth revolves around family; Esther revolves around politics. Ruth is idyllic and agrarian; Esther is hellish and urban. Esther is a story of good versus evil with villains and heroes. Ruth is a story of passivity versus activity without villains or dramatic heroism. In Ruth, the worst eventuality is the destitution of two widows. In Esther, the worst eventuality is the destruction of a people.

Even in the Bible, the two books lack linkage. In the Protestant version of the Bible, following the Septuagint, their locations conform to their historical context. Ruth is placed near the beginning of the historical section between the Book of Judges and Samuel; Esther is placed near the end between Nehemiah and Job. In the current Jewish version of the Bible, following medieval Ashkenazi manuscripts, the Books of Ruth and Esther are placed with the other three Megillot or Scrolls but not juxtaposed. The five are ordered according to their lectionary use in the synagogue, starting with the Song of Songs for Pesach, Ruth for Shavuot, Lamentations for Tishah B’Av, Ecclesiastes for Sukkot, and finally Esther for Purim. Others resorted to a presumed chronological order. The Talmud (B. Baba Batra 14b) places Ruth at the beginning of the Writings right before Psalms, likely due to the David connection.

These differences are consequential in distinguishing Ruth and Esther in terms of narrative, not in terms of narratology. A story can be analyzed by its narrative, or by its narratology. The former focuses on the content; the latter on the construction. On the surface, the Books of Ruth and Esther share little; below the surface, however, the techniques for the structuring of the plot share much. As narrative, they diverge; as narratology, they converge. Narrative consists of what is told; narratology consists of how it is told. The issue is not the storyline, but its fashioning, namely, its emplotment. Emplotment deals with the fashioning of a narrative structure or plot by connecting the various elements in a coherent manner. This involves the arrangement of the individual elements into a larger framework to create a sense of purpose within the narrative. In sum, narrative deals with plot; narratology deals with emplotment.

From the perspective of narratology, the Books of Ruth and Esther share much. The most obvious is the status of Ruth and Esther as heroes in both senses, namely, most admired and most active in moving the story forward to its conclusion. On its own, this is not that telling, as there are many biblical heroines who determine the outcome of the story from Eve to Rebecca, from Rahab to Yael, from Deborah to Abigail and then later, in the Apocrypha, Judith. In Genesis alone, the subtlety and initiative of women resolve progeny issues from Sarah to Lot’s daughters, from Rebecca and Rachel to Tamar. Nonetheless, motherhood plays a minor role in Ruth while totally absent from Esther.

More significant is the sharing of the three narrative unities of time, place, and character. Unlike the stories of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Samuel, and David which extend over a lifetime, or take place in different countries, or involve a change of characters, the Books of Ruth and Esther share a limited time, mostly a single place, and consistency of characters. Both stories take less than two years; both occur primarily in a single city, Bethlehem for Ruth, Shushan for Esther; and both begin and end with the same characters, Naomi and Ruth for one, Mordechai and Esther for the other. Each is self-contained, not part of some grand narrative as in Genesis-Exodus and Joshua-Kings.

God plays a backseat role in both; neither speaking, nor directly addressed, nor directly intervening. Still, The Book of Ruth attributes much to God positively (1:6, 4:13) and negatively (1:13, 21-22). God’s blessing is invoked (1:8-9, 2:4, 20, 3:10, 4:14) and God’s aid is evoked (1:9, 2:12). It is the coincidence of events that most points to a behind-the-scenes director, sensed starkly in the happenstance of Ruth (2:3, 2:4, 4:1) as well as throughout Esther. The absence of an explicit God is countered by the presence of an implicit God. The lack of explicit God-directedness correlates with the other historical biblical books of the Persian period such as Ezra and Nehemiah and, of course, Esther in contrast to the pronounced presence of God in Samuel and Kings of the classical biblical period.

Focusing on the pattern or structure of events produces surprising connections such as the pivotal role of marriage and family. In The Book of Ruth, a quondam non-Jewish woman (Ruth) marries a Jewish man (Boaz); in The Book of Esther, a Jewish woman (Esther) marries a non-Jewish man (Achashverosh). In Ruth, a widowed Moabite woman becomes the wife of a Jewish landowner initiating a line of future Jewish kings. In Esther, a Jewish orphan becomes the wife of a Persian king saving the Jewish people. In both cases, an outsider becomes an insider through marriage. Both marriages are of questionable propriety if not once downright prohibited.

Esther herself is the second wife of Achashverosh, having assumed the perquisites of the banished Vashti (2:17b). Boaz is the second husband of Ruth, having assumed the perquisites of the deceased Mahlon (4:9-10).

In Ruth, a distressed widow prevails upon her to-be-husband to extricate her and her mother-in-law from their plight. In Esther, a distraught queen prevails upon her husband to extricate her and her people from their plight.

Both end in unexpected succession. Ruth ends in an unexpected genealogical succession — from Ruth and Boaz to Obed and David. Esther ends in an unexpected political succession — from Haman to Esther and Mordechai.

Besides the move from outsider to insider, Ruth and Esther advance from alien to actual or potential royalty, and from dependency on others to dependency of others on them as illustrated by the reversal of roles of Naomi versus Ruth and Mordechai versus Esther discussed below.

Most significant for establishing commonality is the overlap of terminology starting off with וַיְהִי בִּימֵי, “And was in the days of.” This unique biblical opening establishes the link from the outset.[3] The linkage is tightened by the common terms employed for Esther and Ruth finding favor in the eyes of their patron, making them stand out from among the women courting the attention of their patron.

Regarding Ruth and Boaz, it says:

וַתֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו: מַדּוּעַ מָצָאתִי חֵן בְּעֵינֶיךָ לְהַכִּירֵנִי וְאָנֹכִי נׇכְרִיָּה.

“She said to him, ‘Why have I found favor in your eyes to acknowledge me, being that I am a foreigner?’ ” (2:10b).

Regarding Esther and Achashverosh, it says:

וַיֶּאֱהַב הַמֶּלֶךְ אֶת־אֶסְתֵּר מִכׇּל־הַנָּשִׁים וַתִּשָּׂא־חֵן וָחֶסֶד לְפָנָיו

“The king loved Esther more than all the other women, as she gained his favor and grace” (2:17).

Similarly,

וַיְהִי כִרְאוֹת הַמֶּלֶךְ אֶת־אֶסְתֵּר הַמַּלְכָּה עֹמֶדֶת בֶּחָצֵר נָשְׂאָה חֵן בְּעֵינָיו

“As soon as the king saw Queen Esther standing in the court, she gained his favor” (5:2).

The expression of Ruth’s for finding favor מָצָאתִי חֵן בְּעֵינֶיךָ in the eyes of Boaz is used repeatedly in Esther (5:8, 7:3, 8:5) for finding favor in the eyes of Achashverosh. The חֶסֶד also appears in both albeit of contrasting meanings. For Esther, it is her external beauty, her grace (2:9, 17); for Ruth, it is her internal beauty, her kindness (3:10) or that of God (1:8, 2:20).

Two rare Hebrew usages clinch the case for verbal linkage. The first is the term for guardian or caretaker. Naomi upon taking care of Ruth’s child is designated omenet, תְּהִי־לוֹ לְאֹמֶנֶת (4:16) while Mordechai is designated Esther’s omein, וַיְהִי אֹמֵן אֶת־הֲדַסָּה (2:7). The term usually refers to female caretakers of royalty.[3] By using a term which designates a protective woman[4] for Mordechai designates him, mutatis mutandis, Naomi’s double.

The second is the rare usage of the verb שבר for “looking forward.” Elsewhere, it appears in a religious context.[5] Here alone it applies to non-Jews in a general context. For Ruth 1:13, it is the false hope of Ruth and Orpah looking forward to grown-up children from Naomi: הֲלָהֵן תְּשַׂבֵּרְנָה עַד אֲשֶׁר יִגְדָּלוּ. For Esther 9:1, it is the false hope of the enemies of the Jews looking forward to dominating them: שִׂבְּרוּ אֹיְבֵי הַיְּהוּדִים לִשְׁלוֹט בָּהֶם וְנַהֲפוֹךְ הוּא.

The common use of קים⁶ also connects them, though it shows up elsewhere.[7] Its distinctive Hebrew use as “legally authorizing,” as in Ruth 4:7 and Esther 9:32, is matched only by the Aramaic use of Daniel 6:8.

The drinking of Boaz and Achashverosh on the verge of making a fateful decision appears in corresponding terms:

Ruth says regarding Boaz:

וַיֹּאכַל בֹּעַז וַיֵּשְׁתְּ וַיִּיטַב לִבּוֹ

“And Boaz ate and drank and got into a good mood” (3:7).

Esther says regarding Achashverosh:

כְּטוֹב לֵב־הַמֶּלֶךְ בַּיָּיִן

“When the king got into a wine-induced good mood” (1:7).

The number ten figures prominently explicitly and implicitly. Explicitly: Ruth specifies that Naomi spent ten years in Moab (1:4), and that ten men are assembled at the city’s entrance gate (4:2). Esther specifies that Esther is taken to the royal quarters on the tenth month (2:16), and that the ten sons of Haman were to be hanged, meriting four mentions (9:10-14). Implicitly: According to Ruth, the generations from Peretz to David add up to ten.[8] According Esther, the number of times the gate of the king is designated as Mordechai’s station comes to ten[9] as do the number of banquet-parties.[10]

Sensitivity to spousal parallels makes others noticeable. Both begin with the loss of a spouse: Ruth loses her husband; Achashverosh loses his wife. Coming at the beginning, both losses create an expectation of a turnaround to make up for the loss. In The Book of Ruth, Naomi resolves the issue by having Ruth marry Boaz. In The Book of Esther, Mordecai resolves the issue by having Esther marry Achashverosh. In both cases, the older relative (Naomi and Mordechai) mentors the younger relative (Ruth and Esther) by guiding the younger on turning around the situation. In both cases, the advice is accepted by the younger though adjusted by their feminine wiles to turn the tables and achieve their goal. The result is that both induce their ruling man (Boaz and Achashverosh) to intervene and save them and company.

The night is the common watershed. Ruth evokes the salvific mid-night of the Exodus by using the identical expression of the Exodus (12:29) וַיְהִי בַּחֲצִי הַלַּיְלָה saying:

וַיְהִי בַּחֲצִי הַלַּיְלָה וַיֶּחֱרַד הָאִישׁ וַיִּלָּפֵת וְהִנֵּה אִשָּׁה שֹׁכֶבֶת מַרְגְּלֹתָיו

At mid-night, the man gave a start and recoiled—behold a woman lying at his feet (3:8).

Esther says:

בַּלַּיְלָה הַהוּא נָדְדָה שְׁנַת הַמֶּלֶךְ.

That night, sleep eluded the king (6:1).

Neither Boaz nor Achashverosh get an uninterrupted night’s sleep. Indeed, the night constitutes the turnaround precipitating the denouement.

The dramatic tension grabs the reader’s attention awaiting the outcome of the heroine’s (Ruth or Esther) daring encroachment on the space of the man in control (Boaz or Achashverosh). Both Ruth (3:3) and Esther (5:1) get dressed up for the occasion. Both resolutions involve a type of exposure, admittedly somewhat distinct, at the respective deciding point: Ruth (3:6) exposes the leg of Boaz at his threshing floor; Esther exposes Haman’s plot to Achashverosh at her party. Both have a potential spoiler: “Tov” or peloni almoni in Ruth; Haman in Esther. The man in control (Boaz or Achashverosh) responds favorably to the heroine’s entreaty and resolves the issue by the disposal or circumvention of the spoiler, “Tov” (Ruth 4:4-10) or Haman (Esther 7:10).

The removal of legal obstacles smooths the way to the final resolution. For Ruth (4:4-10), a prior claim needs to be circumvented to allow Boaz to exercise his option. For Esther (8:8-11), a previous edict needs to be circumvented to allow for Jewish self-defense.

Even Orpah and Vashti have their parallels. Orpah serves as Ruth’s foil; Vashti serves as Esther’s foil. Orpah and Vashti do the sensible and vacate the stage. Ruth and Esther do the outrageous and occupy center stage.

How do Ruth and Esther implement their center-making roles? Both revise their mentors’ urgings to intervene. Ruth subtly amends Naomi’s advice. Naomi instructs Ruth to interrupt Boaz’s sleep on the threshing floor and do what he says, וְהוּא יַגִּיד לָךְ אֵת אֲשֶׁר תַּעַשִׂין (3:4b). Instead, Ruth turns the tables leading Boaz to say:

וְעַתָּה בִּתִּי אַל־תִּירְאִי
כֹּל אֲשֶׁר־תֹּאמְרִי אֶעֱשֶׂה־לָּךְ.

And now, my young lady, have no fear,
whatever you say I will do for you (3:11a).

Naomi assumed that Boaz, the wealthy landowner, would call the shots; Ruth, the destitute foreigner, proved otherwise.

Note also the parallel between Boaz and Achashverosh.

The former says to Ruth: “whatever you say I will do for you” (ibid.);

the latter says to Esther:

וּמַה־שְּׁאֵלָתֵךְ וְיִנָּתֵן לָךְ
וּמַה־בַּקָּשָׁתֵךְ עוֹד וְתֵעָשׂ

Whatever is your wish, it shall be granted.
And whatever is your request? It shall be done (9:12).

Ruth also pointedly revises Boaz’s own compliment to her about God into her directive to Boaz:

(אֲשֶׁר־בָּאת לַחֲסוֹת תַּחַת־כְּנָפָיו = “that you sought refuge under His wings” [2:12b]
וּפָרַשְׂתָּ כְנָפֶךָ עַל־אֲמָתְךָ כִּי גֹאֵל אָתָּה

Spread your wing (= corner of the garment[11]) over your handmaid, for you are the redeemer (3:9).

This expression for being taken under God’s wings indicating solicitude, as in Ruth 2:12b, is frequent in Psalms.[12] Its use at 3:9, however, in the light of Ezekiel 16:8,[13] conjures up conjugality intimating minimally eligibility if not a marriage proposal.[14] Ruth thereby instigates the process of redemption by turning the tables on the male in charge initiating the denouement.

Esther, for her part, deflects Mordechai’s rash advice to barge in on the king and plead the case of her people. Instead, she sets up Haman by inviting him to a party in her private quarters with her husband with whom she has not been for thirty days (4:11b). The impervious Haman, so full of himself (7:5b), as Achashverosh notes, falls for the trap oblivious of the repercussions of a ménage à trois.[15]

Both books record two interventions of women offering advice. In Ruth, the local women speak up twice. The first at 1:19-20 is negative regarding Naomi’s self-pitying bitterness upon her return to Judea and the irony of being called Naomi, which plays on the Hebrew for pleasantness. The second is positive regarding the birth of Obed, her new-born, as it were, grandchild:

וַתֹּאמַרְנָה הַנָּשִׁים אֶל־נׇעֳמִי
בָּרוּךְ יי אֲשֶׁר לֹא הִשְׁבִּית לָךְ גֹּאֵל הַיּוֹם
וְיִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל

And the women said to Naomi:
“Blessed be the Lord who has not deprived you of a redeemer today.
May he achieve renown in Israel” (4:14).

In Esther, the first is positive reflecting Haman’s spectacular rise:

She (Zeresh) says along with others “Let a stake be put up fifty cubits high, and in the morning ask the king to have Mordecai impaled on it. Then you can go gaily with the king to the feast” (5:14).

The second is negative projecting his spectacular fall:

His advisers and his wife Zeresh said to him, “If Mordecai, before whom you have begun to fall, is of Jewish stock, you will not prevail; you will fall before him to your ruin” (6:13).

In fact, at 7:8, Haman falls before Esther.

They also share a common historical perspective albeit reversed.

The Book of Ruth projects three generations forward to David, Boaz’s great-grandson:

וּבֹעַז הוֹלִיד אֶת־עוֹבֵדוְעֹבֵד הוֹלִיד אֶת־יִשָׁי וְיִשַׁי הוֹלִיד אֶת־דָּוִד

Boaz begot Obed, Obed begot Jesse, and Jesse begot David (4:21b-22).

The Book of Esther retrojects three generations backward to Kish, Mordechai’s great-grandfather:

אִישׁ יְהוּדִי הָיָה בְּשׁוּשַׁן הַבִּירָה וּשְׁמוֹ
מׇרְדֳּכַי בֶּן יָאִיר בֶּן־שִׁמְעִי בֶּן־קִישׁ אִישׁ יְמִינִי

In the capital Shushan lived a Jew by the name of
Mordecai, son of Jair, son of Shimei, son of Kish, a Benjaminite (2:5).

In the end, the prominence of the younger heroines, Ruth and Esther, yields to that of the older mentors, Naomi and Mordechai. The plot of The Book Ruth begins (1:2) and ends (4:17) with Naomi. Beginning as the mother of Ruth’s husband, she ends up as the mother of Ruth’s child, nearly edging Ruth out. In the middle, at the turning point, Ruth dominates. The plot of The Book of Esther begins (2:5) with Mordechai as Esther’s uncle/cousin and the dominant one. In the middle, at the turning point, Esther dominates. By the end of chapter 9, they appear as coregents albeit with a subtle variance. At 9:29, Esther’s name precedes Mordechai’s, whereas at 9:31 Mordechai’s name precedes Esther’s. True, Esther appears alone at 9:32; but by the end, Mordechai has edged out Esther as evidenced by the closing encomium to Mordechai:

For Mordecai the Jew ranked next to King Ahasuerus and was highly regarded by the Jews and popular with the multitude of his brethren; he sought the good of his people and interceded for the welfare of all his kindred (10:3).

Following suit, II Maccabees 13:42, designates Purim as “the day of Mordechai.”

Ruth ends with the birth of David (4:22), the future regent of Israel. Esther ends with the rise of Mordechai as coregent of Persia (10:3). Mordechai is the great-grandson of an exile from Jerusalem along with the last reigning descendant of King David (2:6). David is the great-grandson of Ruth who left Moab to accompany Naomi on her return to the land of Judah (1:7b).

Two tales of dizzying reversals; so different in content, yet so alike in structure. Both feature individual and collective reversals. Ruth: Individually, a Moabite childless, destitute widow becomes the Jewish spouse of a wealthy landowner and progenitress of David, the future king of Israel. Collectively, in the period of the Judges are planted the seeds of the future monarchy. Esther: Individually, an orphan Jewish girl becomes the Queen of Persia. Collectively, a people threatened with extermination emerge politically dominant and religiously attractive.[16]

Most dramatic are the reversals of Esther regarding those of Haman and Mordecai.[17] Haman — instead of hanging is hanged. Mordechai — instead of being hanged on raised gallows is raised to viceroy of Persia. Haman, seeking the king’s authorization to shame Mordecai by hanging him in public (5:14), is authorized by the king to honor him in public (6:11). Wishing to be exalted by the king (6:6b), Haman is debased by the king. Instead of riding on the king’s horse exultingly, he draws Mordecai on it humiliatingly (6:11). Finally, Mordecai displaces Haman as the king’s second getting Haman’s ring (8:2) and adorned in the royal garments, לְבוּשׁ מַלְכוּת (13:15), of Haman’s aspiration (6:8).

Esther — instead of going down with her people (7:4), becomes the savior of her people (8:5-6). As Esther assumes Vashti’s role (2:17b), so Mordechai assumes Haman’s role (8:2a). Indeed, the leitmotif וְנַהֲפוֹךְ הוּא, “reversal” (9:1, 22), epitomizes the whole book, smacking of a Divine hand. In an upside-down moral world only a reversal can set things right.

Reversals, as noted, also characterizes Ruth, most notably in the land of Israel transitioning from famine (1:1) to abundance (1:6) as Ruth transitions from barrenness to fruitfulness. What, however, is a secondary narratological technique in Ruth emerges as the dominant engine in Esther.

There are even reversals common to both. Both highlight the reversal from non-Jewishness to Jewishness. For Ruth, it involves the individual switching of ethnic and religious loyalties:

עַמֵּךְ עַמִּי וֵא-לֹהַיִךְ אֱ-לֹהָי =

Your people are my people, and your God my God (1:6).

For Esther, it involves the mass switching to Jewishness throughout the Persian empire:

ְרַבִּים מֵעַמֵּי הָאָרֶץ מִתְיַהֲדִים =

Many of the native population profess to be/act like Jews (8:17).

Ruth, who aligns with God and people, is blessed to God by her people (2:20, 3:10). Esther, who aligns with her people (8:6), saves herself and her people (8:5).

There might even be some correlation in the fact that The Book of Ruth ends with the planting of the seeds of the Jewish monarchy while The Book of Esther ends with the Jewish integration into the Persian monarchy.

Both resonate with their own peals of redemption. For The Book of Ruth, redemption is that of Israel in its land; for The Book of Esther, redemption is that of Israel outside its land. Introducing Mordechai as a descendant of Kish who was exiled from Jerusalem along with the Judean king (2:6) could have prompted a finale of the return of Israel to its land as at the end of Chronicles or the beginnings of Ezra or Nehemiah were it not for the restraints of historical verisimilitude.

The result is that The Book of Esther only features an interim redemption, dependent on the whim of a mercurial king. Lacking explicit terminology for redemption, not even a nod to any return, it stands in sharp contrast with The Book of Ruth with its use of a form of the verb שב (= “return”) some twelve times in chapter one about half of which refer to returning to the land and its repetition of the lexeme גאל (= “redeem”) twenty-one times (nine as a noun and twelve as a verb) concentrated in the last two chapters of Ruth. The repeated mention of redemption albeit of individuals and land cannot help but allude to that of the people in its land constituting real redemption. The term is just too repercussive to be contained in or restrained by its denotation especially in the light of the echoes of Exodus 20:2,

, אָנֹכִי יְי אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֲשֶׁר הוֹצֵאתִיךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם מִבֵּית עֲבָדִ͏ים

in the formulation of Ruth 3:13: וּגְאַלְתִּיךְ אָנֹכִי חַי־יְי; the redemptive allusion of Ruth 3:8 to the forecited Exodus 12:29; and the revealing double mention of the genealogical line to David (4:17b, 22) making “David” the final word. The redemptive resonances of גאל are most audible in the forecited 3:9 כִּי גֹאֵל אָתָּה and in the reverberating 4:14 –

בָּרוּךְ יְי אֲשֶׁר לֹא הִשְׁבִּית לָךְ גֹּאֵל הַיּוֹם וְיִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל

Blessed be the Lord who has not deprived you of a redeemer today. May he be renown in Israel (4:14) –

thereby intimating not so subtly the to-be Davidic role in the redemption of Israel. The combination of גֹּאֵל with וְיִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל is the clincher, as the standard way of naming is merely יִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ, whereas וְיִקָּרֵא שְׁמוֹ בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל is unique to Ruth 4:14[18] intimating that the גֹּאֵל that emerges on the horizon today is to be renown in Israel. This conforms to the usage of the comparable terminology in the redemption-oriented verse of Isaiah 54:5:

כִּי בֹעֲלַיִךְ עֹשַׂיִךְ יי צְבָאוֹת שְׁמוֹ וְגֹאֲלֵךְ קְדוֹשׁ יִשְׂרָאֵל אֱלֹהֵי כָל־הָאָרֶץ יִקָּרֵא

The Ruth reference thus far exceeds the otherwise unknown Obed. Limiting גֹּאֵל to Obed who somehow redeems Naomi, his mother’s mother-in-law, with which he has no blood relationship, is an unattested usage unable to account for either denotation or connotation. This leads to the allusive possibility that the “redemption” encompasses also the return to the Land.[19]

Esther deftly molds the various plot elements and literary strategies of Ruth into its own version of redemption. As in Ruth, female intuition and initiative engineer the redemption determining the destiny of Israel. The insights and plans of the women prevail over those of the men. Whereas the men — Achashverosh, Haman, Mordechai, and Boaz — tend to misread the situation somewhat blinded by their own set of circumstances; the women — Esther, Vashti, Zeresh, Ruth and Naomi – perceptively size up the situation knowing what to do and when to do it.

Singularly engaging in lucid Hebrew, Ruth and Esther are eminently readable, plot-based narratives, unlike the other three Megillot. Every scene advances the narrative. All purported incidental elements are integrated, nothing remains extraneous. Like a well-structured drama, each character, however introduced, ends up contributing to the plot at the appropriate time. The result is the two most self-contained yet reverberating literary gems of the Bible.

In the final analysis, the surface differences fail to mask the subsurface commonalities. Esther so echoes Ruth that the divergences of narrative pale before the convergences of narratology.[20] The correlation of the roles of Naomi and Mordechai, Boaz and Achashverosh, and — above all — Ruth and Esther seal the case. It’s the latter two that renders the midrashic observation regarding the Exodus —

בזכות נשים צדקניות… נגאלו ממצרים

“By virtue of the righteous women… Israel was redeemed from Egypt”[21] — applicable to both heroines of Shavuot and Purim[22] as we look forward to the merit of righteous woman effectuating other redemptions.[23]

[1] For a fuller treatment of the two books without raising this issue, see the introductions to The JPS Bible Commentary on Esther and Ruth, the first by Adele Berlin, 2001, and the second by Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Tikva Frymer-Kensky, 2011. The issue is somewhat touched upon by P. Meltsar, Ruth, Da’at HaMikra, amesh Megillot (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1990), pp. 21-22. The issue of the comparability of the two is taken up by Orit Avnery, Liminal Women: Belonging and Otherness in the Books of Ruth and Esther (Hebrew), Shalom Hartman Institute, Jerusalem 2015, from a speculative feminist perspective with little overlap with this study.
[2] According to ancient authorities this portends negatively for both (B. Megillah 10b).
[3] See 2 Samuel 4:4; 2 Kings 10:1, 5; Isaiah 49:12, 60:4.
[4] As confirmed by Moses’s metaphorical use in Numbers 11:12.
[5] See Psalms 104:27, 119:166, 145:15.
[6] Ruth 4:7; Esther 9:21, 29, 31, 32.
[7] See Ezekiel 13:6; Psalms 119:28, 106; Daniel 4:23; 6:8, 16, 27. The four occurrences in Daniel and Esther reflect its frequency in post-exilic Hebrew.
[8] As opposed to 1 Chronicles 2:4-15 which starts with Judah, as would be expected, and traces eleven generations to David. Ten reflects a turning point as in from Adam to Noah (Genesis 5:3-32) and from Shem to Abraham (Genesis 11:10-26), the correlation of which is made explicit in Mishnah Avot 5:2. In the latter, Shem’s father, Noah, is not mentioned just as Perez’s father, Judah, is not mentioned here making for ten in both cases. Genealogical lines climax at ten, with Noah, Abraham, and David, none of which is make explicit.
[9] See Esther 2:19, 2:21, 3;3, 4:2 (2x), 4:6, 5:9, 5:13, 6:10, 6:12.
[10] See Eskenazi, The JPS Bible Commentary Esther, xxiv-xxv.
[11] See 1 Samuel 15:27; 24:5-6, 12.
[12] Psalms 7:2, 17:8, 36:8, 91:4
[13] וָאֶעֱבֹר עָלַיִךְ וָאֶרְאֵךְ וְהִנֵּה עִתֵּךְ עֵת דֹּדִים וָאֶפְרֹשׂ כְּנָפִי עָלַיִךְ וָאֲכַסֶּה עֶרְוָתֵךְ

“When I passed over you and saw it was your time for lovemaking, I spread My garment over you and covered your nakedness.” See Deuteronomy 23:1, 27:20.
[14]For the range of possibilities, see Eskenazi, JPS Bible Commentary Ruth, p. 59.
[15] See Rashi, Esther 5:4, 6:1, along with Alshikh and Alkabetz, ad loc., in Sefaria.
[16] See Esther 8:11.
[17] See Berlin, The JPS Bible Commentary to Esther, p. xxiv.
[18] Albeit close to the related formulation of Deuteronomy 25:10.
[19] This is all the more likely were Ruth composed in the Persian period.
[20] This builds on Esther’s use of biblical motifs especially that of the Joseph story; see Berlin, The JPS Bible Commentary, pp. xxxvii, lvi-lvii. Note specifically Esther’s contraction and inversion of יֵּט אֵלָיו חָסֶד וַיִּתֵּן חִנּוֹ for Joseph (Genesis 39:21) into the unique biblical use of חֵן וָחֶסֶד for Esther (Esther 2:17).
[21] B. Sotah 11b.
[22] For the prior application to Esther, see Rashi, B. Pesahim 108b.
[23] אין הדורות נגאלים אלא בזכות נשים צדקניות שבדור (Midrash Ruth Zuta 4.11, ed. S. Buber, p. 48).

The Breadth of Rabbinic Opinion Regarding Mosaic Authorship of the Torah in the Middle Ages

By Ben Zion Katz, MD

Arguably, Orthodox theology today is much narrower than what was acceptable in the Middle Ages.  For example, ArtScroll is editing Rashbam’s (Rabbi Samuel ben Meir, ca 1080 -1174) more radical comments out of their new edition of the Rabbinic Bible (Mikraot Gedolot).[1]   In this paper, I will discuss a dramatic example of Biblical exegesis, which could even be considered within the realm of so-called “higher Biblical criticism”, and the implications of this exegesis re medieval Jewish theology.[2]

Numbers 21:1-3 describes a war between Israel and the King of Arad and involves a city named Hormah.  The verses from Numbers read as follows (my translation): (21:1) When the Canaanite King of Arad who dwelt in the Negev heard that Israel was coming by the way of Atarim, he fought Israel and took some of them prisoner.  (21:2) Then Israel made a vow to God saying “If You deliver this people into our hands, we will destroy their cities”. (21:3) God heeded Israel’s call and handed the Canaanites over, and they and their cities were destroyed, so that place was called Hormah (destruction).  

However, there is evidence from later in the Bible that Hormah was not conquered by Israel until after the time of Moses.  Joshua 12:14 states that the King of Hormah was defeated by Joshua (cf. Josh 12:7). In addition, Judges 1:17 states that the tribes of Judah and Simon defeated the Canaanites of Tzefat and renamed that destroyed city Hormah.  

Abraham Ibn Ezra (1089-1164) on Num 21:1 comments that “many believe that [therefore] Joshua (emphasis mine) wrote this passage [in the Torah]”, citing the text of Josh. 12:14 as proof.  However, Ibn Ezra goes on to refute that opinion by claiming that the Hormah mentioned in the book of Joshua and the Hormah mentioned in Numbers 21:1-3 are two different places on opposite sides of the Jordan River.  His proof is that the city West of the Jordan was originally called Tzefat (citing Judges 1:17), unlike the city mentioned in Numbers 21:3 (although the original name of Hormah is not given in Numbers 21:3).  Note that Ibn Ezra does not refer to any dogma or theology in relation to the previously cited opinion re Joshua’s authorship of three verses of the Torah; he simply refutes the argument via logic and the prooftext from Judges 1:17.       

Ramban (Nachmanides, 1194-1270), as is his wont, has a longer comment (on Num. 21:1) than Ibn Ezra.  After addressing the historical problem, he writes (my loose translation, with parenthetical comments and emphases):  “And it seems to me that this King of Arad lived in the Negev West of the Jordan in Canaan in the area of the (future) territory of Judah near Hebron.  The King of Arad heard from afar that the Israelites were coming by way of Atarim to do battle, and that is why the text emphasizes that the King dwelt in the Negev in Canaan (see also Num. 33:40) because he had to travel to do battle from his country to where the Israelites were presently located (in the desert on the East side of the Jordan).   And the Israelites made a vow (that should God allow them to succeed in battle against the King of Arad that the Israelites would consecrate all of the King of Arad’s territory to God) … and the Israelites fulfilled (or at least began to fulfill) their oath because they defeated the enemy in the days of Moses … and consecrated the booty in a sacred storehouse.   And the text of the Torah concludes the matter here by saying that the Israelites also consecrated Arad’s cities in Canaan after Joshua died as proof that they ultimately fulfilled their vow, and then they renamed [Arad’s destroyed city] Hormah (destruction) as it says in the book of Judges (1:17) … And that’s where the oath was completely fulfilled.  But the Torah wanted to conclude the matter here (aval hishlim hakatuv [emphasis mine; see below] lehazkir ha-inyan be-kaan).”  

Ramban goes on to add that there are two other places in the Torah where summary statements are made regarding matters that took place after the death of Moses. The first of these relates to how long the Israelites ate manna.  Exodus 16:35 states that the manna didn’t cease until the Israelites crossed into Canaan (as recounted in Josh. 5:12), which was after the death of Moses.  The second such instance according to the Ramban where an event that occurred after the death of Moses was included in the Torah for completeness was when the Bible stated “These are the names of the people who will divide up the land [of Canaan] for you…” (Num. 34:17-29); this too didn’t occur until after the Israelites crossed the Jordan.  

Surprisingly, Isaac Abrabanel (1437 – 1508) read Ramban as saying that these passages (Numbers 21: 1-3 and probably Exodus 16:35 which he also quotes [he does not quote Numbers 34:17-29) were written after the time of Moses, rather than conventionally understanding them as being prophecies.[3]  Abrabanel begins by stating that Ibn Ezra believed that Numbers 21:1-3 was authored by Joshua, even though Ibn Ezra’s conclusion (cited above) was that this was not the case.  Abrabanel then quotes the words of the Ramban: hishlim hakatuv (my emphasis again; see below) lehazkir kaan ha-inyan, but according to Abrabanel, this phrase does not mean that “the Torah wanted to conclude the matter here”, but rather that “he completed the matter here” with “he” referring to Joshua.  According to Abrabanel, Ramban did not explicitly state who the “he” was who completed the Torah because it was not Moses (Vehiniach hadavar bestam shehakatuv hishlimo, aval lo zachar mi hayah hakotev (my emphasis; see above), keyvan shelo hayah Moshe).  Abrabanel expresses strong condemnation that Ramban would say that Joshua wrote these verses (kelimah kastah panav = “embarrassment [should] cover his face”), but Abrabanel nevertheless believed that Ramban held this opinion, which Abrabanel believed Ramban borrowed from Ibn Ezra. 

Many things are astonishing here, some of which were already alluded to and most of which are pointed out by Chavel in his annotated edition of Ramban on the Torah.[4]  First is that Abrabanel believed that Ramban meant that a few verses of the Torah were not authored by Moses.  Second is that this does not seem to be the meaning of what Ramban actually wrote. It is of course possible that Abrabanel had a different text of Ramban, but the words he quotes (hishlim hakatuv lehazkir kaan ha-inyan) do match our text nearly exactly; perhaps he read the Ramban text as hakotev instead of hakatuv (see underlined words above), and some of the adjoining words (which he did not quote) also differed, making Abrabanel’s reading more plausible.  Finally, Abrabanel concluded that Ramban agreed with Ibn Ezra that Joshua wrote these verses. However, as noted, Ibn Ezra ultimately rejected the opinion that Joshua wrote these verses.  

Regardless of how plausible Abrabanel’s reading and understanding of Ramban and Ibn Ezra may be, Abrabanel does conclude that two great medieval rabbinic figures, Ibn Ezra and Ramban, both believed that Joshua added a few verses to the Torah in Numbers and probably (at least) in Exodus as well (16:35).  Abrabanel does express surprise at Ramban’s opinion, presumably based on dogma related to Mosaic authorship of the Torah, but he does not dismiss the opinion as theologically untenable (as did Rabbi Moses Feinstein in the 20th century when he was asked about the Torah commentary of Rabbi Yehudah Hachasid).[5]  Abrabanel does not express surprise for the similar opinion he ascribes to Ibn Ezra, perhaps because Abrabanel held Ramban in higher regard.  

It appears therefore that it was (still) acceptable in the late 15th – early 16th century (although perhaps no longer “mainstream”) to believe that Joshua could have added several verses to the Torah (besides possibly the last eight; see Baba batra 14b and my Journey Through Torah, chapter 4), and that great earlier Rabbinic figures could have held that opinion as well.  Truth be told, Ibn Ezra and others did share this view, although not concerning these verses in Numbers 21.[6]  This is all notwithstanding Maimonides’ eighth principle of faith that the whole Torah as we have it today was authored by Moses.[7]  Abrabanel again offers no explanations or excuses for Ibn Ezra and Ramban, although he is disappointed that Ramban hinted at such a position.   

The implication of this view and other similar arguments[8] (which may have been minority opinions in the Middle Ages but still seem to have been within the pale) is that there existed a greater breadth of acceptable Jewish theology regarding the authorship of the Torah at the end of the 15th – beginning of the 16th century than existed in rabbinic circles in the 20th century and that is present in many Orthodox circles today.  This is unfortunate as it tends to stifle what might be otherwise legitimate intellectual debate. [9]  

[1] MB Shapiro.  Changing the Immutable: How Orthodox Judaism Rewrites Its History.  Oxford.  Portland, Oregon.  2015. P. 59.
[2] This paper was first presented in a different form as part of a talk entitled “A Traditional Yet Modern Approach to Torat Moshe MiSinai” at the Herzl Institute 19 June 2017, Jerusalem, Israel, as part of a conference “What Does Torah From Heaven Mean?”  See also my A Journey Through Torah: A Critique of the Documentary Hypothesis. Urim.   Jerusalem.  2012. P. 85, n. 8. 
[3] Y Shaviv.  Peirushay HaTorah LeRabeinu Yitzchak Abrabanel.  Vol. 4 (Bamidbar).  Horeb. Jerusalem. 5768 (2008).  p. 181 (Hebrew).
[4] HD Chavel.  Peirushay HaTorah LeRabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban).  Vol. 2 (Vayikra-Bamidbar-Devarim). Mosad HaRav Kook. Jerusalem. 5729 (1960).  Pp 281-283 (Hebrew).
[5] See my Journey Through Torah, Chapter 7. 
[6] See my Journey Through Torah, pp. 76-85 and 91-98.
[7] See MB Shapiro The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles Reappraised.  Oxford. 2004. Chapter 7.
[8] See note 5.
[9] See my Journey Through Torah, Chapter 9.