Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac (1040–1105), known by the Hebrew acronym Rashi, authored a running commentary on almost the entire Talmud as well as one on almost all of the Hebrew Bible. Both fairly quickly became essential to all traditional Jewish study and teaching of these texts. In his recent book Rashi’s Commentary on the Torah, Eric Lawee attempts to give this work its proper place in Jewish intellectual history by examining both the commentary itself and its rabbinic admirers and detractors. Discussing the book with Alan Brill, Lawee explains Rashi’s use of midrash—rabbinic exegesis, mostly from the 4th through 7th centuries—which the sage draws on heavily, often presenting it alongside a more literal interpretation:

Rashi’s careful selection and at times decisive reformulation of midrash shaped perceptions of the Torah’s teachings. . . . On one level, Rashi uses midrashim to address countless ever-so-slight “surface irregularities” (to use the scholar James Kugel’s term) in Scripture, such as apparent redundancies. On another level, midrash infuses the commentary with a profusion of theological ideas and elements of pastoral reassurance.

For example, [living in] a medieval world . . . in which Jews lived under either Christians or Muslims as a tiny minority, and at times a persecuted one (Rashi’s lifetime coincides with the violent assaults on German Jewish communities during the First Crusade of 1096), Rashi frequently reassures his reader via his use of midrashic teachings that God’s love for Israel is eternal and that the Jews remain, despite the evidence, the “chosen people.”

[Yet] Rashi does not explain the meaning of the midrashim that he adduces, leaving readers to ponder their purport. . . . [T]hese midrashim . . . remained pliably open to interpretation. Thus the commentary has the capacity to generate a successive unfolding of meaning as the divine word is refracted through Rashi’s commentary and, in turn, the varied lenses worn by his diverse readers.

Early Friday morning, Israel attacked military installations near the Iranian cities of Isfahan and nearby Natanz, the latter being one of the hubs of the country’s nuclear program. Jerusalem is not taking credit for the attack, and none of the details are too certain, but it seems that the attack involved multiple drones, likely launched from within Iran, as well as one or more missiles fired from Syrian or Iraqi airspace. Strikes on Syrian radar systems shortly beforehand probably helped make the attack possible, and there were reportedly strikes on Iraq as well.

Iran itself is downplaying the attack, but the S-300 air-defense batteries in Isfahan appear to have been destroyed or damaged. This is a sophisticated Russian-made system positioned to protect the Natanz nuclear installation. In other words, Israel has demonstrated that Iran’s best technology can’t protect the country’s skies from the IDF. As Yossi Kuperwasser puts it, the attack, combined with the response to the assault on April 13,

clarified to the Iranians that whereas we [Israelis] are not as vulnerable as they thought, they are more vulnerable than they thought. They have difficulty hitting us, but we have no difficulty hitting them.

Nobody knows exactly how the operation was carried out. . . . It is good that a question mark hovers over . . . what exactly Israel did. Let’s keep them wondering. It is good for deniability and good for keeping the enemy uncertain.

The fact that we chose targets that were in the vicinity of a major nuclear facility but were linked to the Iranian missile and air forces was a good message. It communicated that we can reach other targets as well but, as we don’t want escalation, we chose targets nearby that were involved in the attack against Israel. I think it sends the message that if we want to, we can send a stronger message. Israel is not seeking escalation at the moment.