“Let us make humankind” (Genesis 1:26)—whom is God addressing? Across Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, some interpreters have identified God’s audience as the angels but have assigned them strikingly different roles in humanity’s creation: collaborators, creators, or critics who question the wisdom of bringing humans and their corruption into existence.
Paul’s (ca. 5-67 C.E.) portrayal of Jesus as an exalted ruler may seem to challenge Jewish monotheism. Yet the idea of a human king ruling on God’s behalf is already found in the Bible. Reading Paul alongside Jewish traditions of divine kingship shows how his claims about Jesus remain consistent with exclusive allegiance to one God.
On the road to Meron, where the Safed kabbalists believe Jesus is buried, R. Hayyim Vital (16th cent.) encounters a dangerous spirit, who overpowers him in a moment of spiritual weakness. The spirit later tosses him in the air and exhausts him nearly to death, but Vital makes it to his master, the great R. Isaac Luria, the Arizal, who, fearing the spirit will kill Vital and thwart his plans to bring about the messianic age, exorcises it.
The products of a period in which Judaism was considered to have been superseded by Christianity and Jews were treated as inferiors, the Talmud and Toledot Yeshu literature developed a biting, farcical retelling of Jesus’ story, which, at the same time, reveals the Jewish struggle to explain his massive impact on world religion. Yet, medieval rabbis also responded to Jesus’ death in a serious way, noting that ultimately, things turned out for the best: Jesus always planned to be crucified, and Jesus asked God to forgive everyone involved.
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all include accounts of women discovering Jesus’ tomb empty three days after his crucifixion that share a common structure, but vary considerably in their details. Christians reading the story at Easter experience vicariously the women’s fear and awe, just as Jews re-experience the Exodus through the Haggadah.
The nativity stories in Matthew and Luke are deeply rooted in Jewish Scripture and Second Temple Judaism. Nevertheless, over the centuries they have accumulated interpretations that portray Jews as cruel, greedy, impure, or spiritually blind. A closer look at familiar claims—from Mary’s supposed threat of being stoned to the caricature of shepherds as social outcasts—shows how antisemitism often enters the Christmas story not through the Gospels themselves, but through their interpretation.
Sarah is absent from the biblical account of Isaac’s binding, and there’s no indication that Abraham even discussed God’s command with her. Would she have been an active participant, a faithful supporter, or a grief-stricken mother? Later interpreters filled in her role according to their religious and cultural contexts.
In the 2nd century C.E., when Christianity emerged as a religion, theologians such as Justin and Chrysostom interpreted Paul’s letters to mean that Christians with faith in Jesus are Abraham’s spiritual descendants through Sarah. Jews, in contrast, are only his flesh descendants, banished like Hagar. Genesis Rabbah responds that after Sarah’s death, Abraham remarried Hagar—now called Keturah, “adorned” (kitra) with commandments and good deeds—and had many more children with her than he did with Sarah.
Originally, Deuteronomy presented itself as the torah, and even after its incorporation into the Pentateuch, it retains a distinct identity, which is why the Septuagint translates mishneh torah (Deuteronomy 17:18) as deuteronomium, “Second Torah.” At the same time, with the canonization of the Pentateuch, the role of the “second Torah” was claimed by: Jubilees, some Dead Sea Scrolls, Philo, early Christians, and ultimately the rabbis, culminating in the composition of the Mishnah. A millennium later, Maimonides presented his Mishneh Torah as the (so-far) complete and final embodiment of that second revelation.
The precise origins of the practice of reading from the prophets in the synagogue are unknown, but early evidence can be seen in the story of Jesus visiting the synagogue in his hometown on Shabbat and reading from Isaiah (Luke 4:16–19). Yet the process of making prophetic scripture relevant to a contemporary audience began even earlier, as we see in the second-century B.C.E. book of Baruch.
Origen (3rd century C.E.) read the Song of Songs as an allegory expressing the love between Christ and his “bride,” and many Christian interpreters followed suit. Rashi (11th century C.E.), utilizing his two-pronged method of midrash aligned with peshat, developed a consistent Jewish allegory for the Song: Israel is an exiled wife, who pines for the time of her youthful love with God. Could Rashi have been contending with the Christian interpretation?
Muslim scholars like Qadi Abd al-Jabbar, Ibn Hazm (11th c.), and Salih b. al-Husayn al-Gafari (13th c.), and Jewish scholars like Ibn Ezra, Joseph Kimchi (12th c.), Hasdai Crescas, and Profiat Duran (14th c.) viewed the Trinity as a troubling departure from pure monotheism. Spurred by religious competition that was often intertwined with political competition or coercion, they sought to refute it, drawing on philosophy, the Hebrew Bible, and even the New Testament.
Justin Martyr, an early Church Father (c. 100–165 C.E.), interprets the strange appearance of the LORD to Abraham at Mamre as an early instantiation of God the Son, i.e., Jesus. While Rashbam obviously rejected this belief, he learned from this Christian interpretation and suggests that here, the name YHWH refers to an angel, which explains why YHWH speaks about YHWH in this story in the third person.
In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus challenges the talion law of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” instructing his followers to turn the other cheek. While this may be admirable as a personal practice, society requires a policy for protecting its people. Positioned between the extremes of total annihilation of the enemy and passive acceptance of aggression, the principle of talion law advocates for measured justice.
In medieval Latin Christendom, the Psalms were highly beloved, with commentators interpreting them as prophecies about Christ and the Church. Aware of this prevailing interpretation, Rashi often deviates from the plain meaning of the text to read the Psalms as a reflection of the Jewish people’s experience and suffering in his own time.
The gospels present Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator, condemning Jesus to death, and his soldiers crucifying Jesus at the behest of the priests and the Jewish crowd. How, then, did the claim—found even in the Talmud—that the Jews physically crucified Jesus develop?
The Haggadah’s insistence that God, without an intermediary, saved the Israelites from Egypt is a veiled retort to the Christian belief that God relied on Jesus as an agent of redemption. Moreover, the midrash replaces the Arma Christi tradition of recounting the weapons Jesus used to save humanity during the Crucifixion with its own distinctively Jewish arsenal of redemption: pestilence, a sword, the Shechinah, the staff, and blood.
Nativity scenes are peaceful and idyllic. However, Matthew’s story of the magi bringing gifts to the newborn Jesus, set in the time of King Herod, foreshadows the gospel’s themes of political rivalry, violence, and the death of Jesus.
To meet Yofiel, the angel of Torah, to ward off the devil, or to pronounce God's name are some reasons for ascetic fasting. But beware: Publicizing your fast not only negates your act of piety but can bring down divine wrath. Just ask Miriam daughter of Onion Leaf.
Blood has a significant role in many biblical stories and rituals, most prominently in the atonement sacrifices of Leviticus. With the destruction of the Temple and the loss of sacrifices, Judaism and Christianity took very different paths to achieving atonement.
The manner in which Haman’s execution was depicted had real world consequences.
YHWH declares to the Davidic king, “You are my son; today I have begotten you” (Psalm 2:7). For the New Testament, this verse is a prooftext for Jesus’s divinity, but what did it mean in its original context, and how did Jewish interpreters understand it?
The historical John, יוחנן, was a thoroughly Jewish religious preacher, who had little if any relation to Jesus and his movement. Here is the story of how John and his central rite, baptism, became part of Christianity.
When the Temple was destroyed by the Romans in the summer of 70 C.E., the Jews lost their religious and political center. Practically speaking, this did not adversely affect Jesus’s followers, who continued to grow and flourish in this period. But what did they feel about the Temple’s destruction?
The biblical precept “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” has long been understood in Jewish and Christian circles as universal, a transcendent principle encompassing the whole Torah. However, in Leviticus, it is actually one of many action-oriented commandments focused on Israelite social cohesion.
A midrash imagines Queen Esther reciting Psalm 22 the moment she was about to enter Ahasuerus' inner court. Are the rabbis responding to the Passion Narrative, in which Jesus, in his final moments, recites this lament on the cross?
The narratives of Jesus’ conception and birth as presented in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke echo Jewish history and cite Jewish prophecy. In that sense, the Christmas story can be said to have Jewish origins.
Biblical prohibitions against preparing food on Shabbat are further developed in the Second Temple and rabbinic periods. At the same time, a new emphasis emerges: celebrating Shabbat with festive meals.
Set against the Pharaonic Solomon, Jeroboam frees Israel from servitude and founds the Northern Kingdom. Hadad plays a similar role on behalf of the Edomites. Why are these two “rebels” depicted as heroes?
“The Lord visited Sarah” (Genesis 21:1) – When God (and his angels) appears to Abraham to announce the birth of Isaac, the text implies a hidden visit to Sarah. Does this mean, as both Philo and Paul claim, that Isaac was born from a divine conception?
Jesus is famously associated with the holiday of Passover. However, according to the Gospel of John, Jesus makes his debut and final visit at the temple on Sukkot, while the Book of Revelation uses Sukkot imagery to describe Jesus’ future appearance on earth. These repurposings of Sukkot and its rituals highlight Sukkot’s eschatological significance for Jews in Second Temple times (Zechariah 14).
According to Deuteronomy, a false prophet who has no message from God, and advocates worshiping other gods, can still successfully perform miracles and predict the future.
Early rabbinic interpretation connected the curse of child eating (Leviticus 26:29; Deuteronomy 28:53-57) with the description of the Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem in Lamentations (2:20 and 4:10) and the Roman destruction of the Second Temple. In the Middle Ages, however, Jewish commentators de-emphasize this connection. The reason for this lies in the 12th c. development of Christian Bible commentary.
In English, to covet means to desire someone or something obsessively, wrongfully, and/or without due regard for the rights/feelings of others. It is a strong emotion, to be avoided. But does “covet” capture the meaning of the Hebrew verb חמד?
God promised Abraham that Isaac would be his heir, yet God asked Abraham to offer Isaac as a sacrifice. What did Abraham believe that allowed him to reconcile this divine contradiction?
Deuteronomy gives broad permission to eat your fill from a neighbor’s vineyard and grain field, so long as you don’t gather in a vessel or cut with an implement. Famously, the disciples of Jesus gather grain on the Sabbath, earning the Pharisees’ wrath not for theft but for violating Shabbat. Commentators debate the reason for this law and whether it has any limits.
Ancient Jewish interpreters imagined Balaam as the prototypical Gentile seducer. This trope was used by John of Patmos, the author of the book of Revelation and himself a Jew, to polemicize against his rivals among the early Christians.
How Jews responded to the celebration of Jesus’ birth by creating a cynical version of Christmas Eve lampooning him.
Maʿoz Tzur is an intense anti-Christian text reflecting the mood and experience of Ashkenazi Jews during the Crusades, when dozens of Jewish communities were slaughtered in the name of the cross.
Why Melchizedek, a minor biblical character, became so significant in Jewish and Christian interpretation.
The golden calf is a Jewish version of the “fall” of Adam and Eve in Christian tradition.
The Mourner’s Kaddish strengthens the connection of living Jews with their deceased relatives. The custom was developed by twelfth century Ashkenazi Jews as a way of saving their loved ones from Gehenna (hell) and making heaven available to all.
As late as the Second Temple period, Passover and Chag HaMatzot were viewed as two separate holidays. What was the final impetus to concretize the synthesis of these holidays into one?
“May the All-Merciful One reestablish the fallen sukkah of [King] David” הרחמן הוא יקים לנו את סוכת דוד הנופלת — from the Grace after Meals of Sukkot.
