This week’s Torah reading of T’rumah, with its detailed descriptions of the construction of the Tabernacle, has daunted many readers over the years. It has also given rise to a variety of allegorical, philosophic, and mystical interpretations. Among them is that of Rabbi Levi ben Gershom, also known as Ralbag or Gersonides (1288–1344). Menachem Kellner provides some background on this extraordinary Provençal scholar:

Heavily influenced by Aristotelian philosophy, he is often considered a radical thinker. Gersonides wrote important and often groundbreaking works in biblical exegesis and halakhah, astronomy, astrology, geometry, logic, mathematics, philosophy, and philosophical theology. He also wrote extensive supercommentaries on the commentaries of Averroes (ibn Rushd, 1126–1198) on Aristotle.

Gersonides worked with Christian astronomers and astrologers and apparently enjoyed a cordial relationship with them. His reputation in the wider world was such that a very large number of his scientific and philosophical works were translated into Latin and his astronomical tables were sought after by Johannes Kepler.

It is this knowledge, and Aristotelian philosophy in particular, that Gersonides brings to bear in his allegorical exegesis of the Tabernacle, which leads Kellner to conclude:

Reading him today, we find a great talmudist and a great philosopher struggling to make sense of the sanctuary in the wilderness and, by implication, of the Temple in Jerusalem. Yet his reading is not one that crosses the threshold easily from his Aristotelian world into our own.

This may be true of certain details, but is it really the case, say, with the following comment, rendered by Kellner into English?

Now, the lesson shared in this passage [by all its elements] is that it directs one to believe that there exists a God, Master of all, worthy of worship, since everything comes from Him. We are therefore obliged to honor Him with our wealth, in that He is the ultimate in greatness and honor. Thus, [we are commanded] to make this sanctuary, marvelous in beauty, decoration, in the best way possible.

Examining the effects of Iran’s decision to launch nearly 200 ballistic missiles at Israel on October 1, Benny Morris takes stock of the Jewish state’s strategic situation:

The massive Iranian attack has turned what began as a local war in and around the Gaza Strip and then expanded into a Hamas–Hizballah–Houthi–Israeli war [into] a regional war with wide and possibly calamitous international repercussions.

Before the Iranians launched their attack, Washington warned Tehran to desist (“don’t,” in President Biden’s phrase), and Israel itself had reportedly cautioned the Iranians secretly that such an attack would trigger a devastating Israeli counterstrike. But a much-humiliated Iran went ahead, nonetheless.

For Israel, the way forward seems to lie in an expansion of the war—in the north or south or both—until the country attains some sort of victory, or a diplomatic settlement is reached. A “victory” would mean forcing Hizballah to cease fire in exchange, say, for a cessation of the IDF bombing campaign and withdrawal to the international border, or forcing Iran, after suffering real pain from IDF attacks, to cease its attacks and rein in its proxies: Hizballah, Hamas, and the Houthis.

At the same time, writes Morris, a victory along such lines would still have its limits:

An IDF withdrawal from southern Lebanon and a cessation of Israeli air-force bombing would result in Hizballah’s resurgence and its re-investment of southern Lebanon down to the border. Neither the Americans nor the French nor the UN nor the Lebanese army—many of whose troops are Shiites who support Hizballah—would fight them.