Jackson Gardner
The role which mysticism, specifically kabbalah, played in the writings of Ramban is well-known. Phrases such as derekh ha-emet, found throughout his Torah commentary, signal to the reader that he is now dealing with mysticism. However, the notion of acknowledging mystical influence in the writings of Rambam, particularly Moreh HaNevukhim, is a relatively new one in contemporary literature.[1] This can produce tension for those who instinctually view Rambam as a pure rationalist. However, this tension results from failing to understand what sod can mean when it is not constrained by the later kabbalistic definition, and that there are key differences which separate today’s mysticism, which largely stems from Ramban, from Rambam’s form. In truth, a wide gap exists between them, particularly in the realm of textuality.
Explaining the mysticism that Rambam transmitted requires beginning with the associated word itself: sod. Sod often means an intimate counsel, as in the verse, “I have not sat in the counsel (sod) of scoffers…”.[2] The linkage of this word to mysticism is that it lies intimately at the heart of sacred texts, providing answers to the deepest, most fundamental questions which only revelations from God can reveal, such as providence, prophecy, and how God runs the world. It waits for the talented student to plumb its depths and extract it. Rambam’s work on sod, Moreh HaNevukhim, was intended to give its readers this ability by serving as the definitive culmination of prior Geonic and Andalusian sod traditions: “the Andalusians among our people all hold to the Philosophers’ tenets and favor their views, so long as they do not contradict biblical principles… on many issues, you’ll find that they hold positions like mine in this work.”[3] As an example from this work, Rambam critiqued the notion that amulets are a legitimate sod topic, or that they hold any power, noting that, “they hid away these works…in short, a simple soul will believe anything.” (Mishlei 14:15)[4] This exact phrasing was borrowed from Rav Hayye Gaon when he was asked about sod: “the general rule of this is that a simpleton will believe anything, and if these matters were true they would not be disproven or hidden, and we impose upon you to not believe in them.”[5] Rambam outlines for the reader of Moreh HaNevukhim that they will be discussing the two biggest sodot of Scripture which Hazal identified,[6] Ma’aseh Bereshit, which covers the opening revelation of Bereshit on the Creation of the World, and Ma’aseh Merkavah, which involves the revelation of God’s chariot that the prophet Yehezkel described.[7] If one begins to study the Moreh with the assumption that its purpose lies in rational philosophy, then one would expect it to begin with fundamental philosophy, or perhaps deeper metaphysics. Instead, Rambam spends the majority of Part One defining all the words in Scripture which are ascribed to God, and how someone should read them in relation to Him, saying: “my advice here is the key to this work and others.”[8] These chapters consist of analyses of Scriptural verses, pointing out the precise distinctions between similar words.[9] Most importantly, Rambam spends these chapters showing that words in association with God cannot be corporeal or literal, and he does so not with philosophical proofs but rather with clear demonstrations of how Scripture at the peshat level already uses language figuratively: “demut (likeness), however, is a noun derived from DMH, to be like. Here too, the likeness is conceptual: The Psalmist says, I am like a pelican in the desert (102:7) – not that he has wings and feathers like a pelican, but that he is as desolate [as a pelican].”[10]
For the Jews of Al-Andalus, the start of any deeper analysis of Scripture begins with knowing how to properly read the words of the text,[11] alongside understanding grammar.[12] Many imagine that these rules are only important for understanding the peshat, but nothing else. This view derives from the popular concept that there are four levels to scripture: peshat, midrash, remez, and sod.[13] For this view, each represents a separate, unrelated, strand of the text. In contrast to this, the Andalusian methodology sees peshat, midrash, and sod as layers which build upon each other. Grammar is crucial for moving from peshat to midrash, where Hazal utilize these textual skills to generate new, creative messages and teachings for the public. Take, for example, the verse “ushmartem et hamatzot” (“you shall watch over the matzot”)[14] which warns the Israelites against allowing their bread to leaven. In the Mekhilta de-Ribbi Yishmael, R. Yoshiya says to re-read matzot as mitzvot, which involves creatively rereading the same consonants with new vowels,[15] and then linking the two terms via the verse’s peshat message: just as with matzot you must ensure that it does not spoil into leaven, so too when a mitzva arrives you must hasten to perform it, lest the opportunity “spoil.” Just as with midrash, a true understanding of sod for the Andalusian Jews must also be built alphabetically, generated from the peshat text itself. This group understood that the Scriptural texts represent revelational information from God to the historical prophets. These prophets processed the divine information via the imagery and linguistic maps which their specific minds were accustomed to: “they saw this divine world, without a doubt, with the inner eye, and their imagination thus showed them symbols according to [the person’s] natural [surroundings] and what they were accustomed to [seeing].”[16] Therefore, the key to understanding sod is to carefully examine the peshat language which they wrote with, in order to uncover the revelational sod which they received. Sod thus does not begin with knowing metaphysical concepts of cosmic structures, philosophical speculations, or theological positions which lie outside the revealed text; Rambam often rejects those arguments based on their refutation by the peshat reading of Scriptural verses, “nor should the inquirer who studies this work of mine fault me for waxing rhetorical here on behalf of the world’s genesis… if Aristotle can prop up his stance (on eternity) with pagan ravings, why should we not support our views with the words of Moses and Abraham and all that they entail,”[17] just as he noted that his fellow Andalusians only accept philosophical models if “they do not contradict biblical principles” i.e. Scriptural peshat teachings.[18] This is also why Hazal always discussed sod starting from within a carefully read Scriptural text, and is why their two biggest sodot were named after specific passages of the text. Thus, for example, when R. Elazar ben Arakh requested to expound on Ma’aseh Merkava to R. Yohanan ben Zakkai, he began with a formal introduction (petihah) of the text, which served as the prologue for generating the subsequent exposition of the text (derasha): “immediately R. Elazar ben Arakh opened (patah) with [the text of] Ma’aseh Merkava and expounded (darash).”[19]
Because sod is built on decoding the particular linguistics of the author, it is crucial to know that words are based on semantics and contain different meanings in different contexts. As Rabbi Akiva warns his fellows when entering the mystical Pardes, “when you reach pure marble stones do not say ‘water, water,’,”, meaning do not mistakenly assume that when the word mayim is linguistically used for the heavens, it means the same as when used for the earthly waters.[20] This is why Rambam, through the initial chapters of the Moreh, first trains the student to master the many linguistic terms which they encounter in the text, and how they could interpret them. Later, when he begins examining different textual sodot, he expects the reader to recall these semantic nuances.[21] Only after the student knows the peshat and can appreciate linguistic analysis can the deeper sod begin. This importance of literary analysis and decoding of metaphor is why Rambam specifically studied and praised his chief student’s poetic abilities before he began writing the Moreh for him, as this indicated that he might be ready to engage in sod: “I admired your zest for inquiry and the hearty appetite for ideas I could see in your poetry. Your essays and artful prose pieces arrived from Alexandria before I could assay your thinking firsthand…”.[22] Only someone who is capable of encoding their own messages within the symbolism of poetry can decode those which are found in Scripture.
Only after spending significant time on the refinement of these skills does Rambam provide any of his esoteric analyses.[23] One such analysis is about the book of Iyyov, which contains many important topics involving providence and the nature of evil. His analysis is entirely based on the linguistics and metaphoric analyses which come from the study of the peshat: “my own belief, which I shall tell you now, about this core idea of providence is not based on proof but is drawn from what seems to me the plain sense of God’s book and those of the Prophets.”[24] In the opening section between God and Ha-Satan on testing Iyyov, Rambam notes that Iyyov 1:6 and 2:1 both say, “the divine beings presented themselves before the Lord, and Ha-Satan came along with them”[25] – because the verse listed Ha-Satan in a separate clause, “tagging along,” this highlights that there is a difference between the angels and Ha-Satan. He also approvingly notes the metaphorical meaning of the term Ha-Satan, as taught by Reish Lakish, “Ha-Satan, Yetzer Ha-Ra, and the Angel of Death are one and the same being.”[26] These, when combined, generate the sod for Rambam that Iyyov’s Ha-Satan represents the material suffering of humanity which can mislead their perspective on the world around them.[27] Notably, Rambam never produced a full commentary on Iyyov, nor on any Scriptural text; he noted in his preface that to do so would be to either reveal the full sod to everyone, which would defeat the purpose of concealment, or to replace one literary symbol with another in the interest of protecting them, which would also accomplish nothing. Instead, in writing the Moreh’s chapters, he provided the student with the “chapter headings” (roshei perakim) on these subjects and texts, intending to present all the literary tools which someone needs in order to go further on their own – this was in accordance with Hazal’s pedagogical restrictions on teaching sod.[28] Hazal’s restriction of only teaching the chapter headings also preserved another key aspect of sod: the independence of the individual student. Just as they noted that the prophets Yeshayahu and Yehezkel saw the same divine vision, yet experienced and described it very differently,[29] Rambam notes in his preface that there is a subjective, personal aspect to sod, which language can only attempt to capture based on the speaker’s mind.[30] Much like how midrash represents an individual’s creative re-reading of the text’s wording, sod is also up to the trained individual to generate, based on how they personally interpret the foundational messages of the text; both techniques are anchored by adherence to peshat, yet still present a remarkable freedom in literary interpretation. Hazal even recorded an instance in which a particularly talented child uncovered a sod from Ma’aseh Merkava while reading the text in school: “there was a case of a child who was reading the book of Yehezkel in the home of his teacher, and he understood about the [sod of the] hashmal.”[31] When writing about Ma’aseh Merkavah, Rambam notes, “my thoughts here reflect my own intuition and surmise. No divine inspiration has come to teach me what these things mean. Nor have I drawn my beliefs about this from any teacher. I take my lead from the Torah’s text, the Sages’ discussions, and the premises reason tells me must hold. But I could be wrong; the intent might be quite otherwise.”[32] Rambam’s sod on Ma’aseh Merkava was generated from his own reading of the foundational peshat texts and what they signified to him on a deeper level. His admittance that there might be a different, better understanding highlights that sod often lacks an objective, “authoritative,” teaching, and is instead generated by the individual based on the foundational peshat teachings. Thus, when discussing the sod of God’s presence “passing” before Moshe, Rambam notes that once the student is anchored by the textual peshat that God is incorporeal, they may “choose the view you please… the whole point is that you should not believe that passed here means what it does in pass before the people (Shemot 17:5). God is not a body…”.[33] While all agreed that the peshat does not represent a literal “passing” of God, Rambam himself chose to read this verse as signifying a purely intellectual vision, while Onkelos and R. Sa’adya Gaon felt that there was a created light which God passed before Moshe.[34] None were “wrong” in their choice, they all merely chose the sod which spoke to them.
Armed with the right literary tools, the foundational understandings that peshat teaches, and a sound mind, the student will be able to dig deeper on their own. This is how the Moreh functions for its student, presenting examples of how to study words and Scriptural verses, and how to investigate their symbolic meanings; by the end of the work, now armed with the proper literary tools and having been given initial guidance, it concludes with a final call for silent meditation and mystical reflection on the sodot that they must ponder.[35] Thus, the student has to continue to develop their mystical knowledge on their own terms; this goal is already hinted at by Rambam’s original Arabic title, Dalalat Al-HaIrin, where the word dalalat means a road-side “signpost” which can point someone who stands at a crossroads in a certain direction. However, they must still read that sign and choose to walk the rest of the path themselves.
In moving to a brief examination of Ramban’s system, which hails from Provence,[36] mysticism (sod), is not just something to be concealed, but is something which can never be textually decoded. As Ramban forcefully announces in the preface to his Torah commentary regarding sodot, “my words will not be comprehended nor known at all by any reasoning or contemplation, except from the mouth of a wise kabbalist speaking into the ear of an understanding recipient.”[37] Unlike Rambam who begins with textual analysis skills, Ramban’s warning immediately precludes the uninitiated reader from performing any form of textual analysis based on his mystical comments: “reasoning about them is foolishness; an emerging thought increases damage and prevents benefit.”[38] Instead, his mystical teachings must first be orally received from a verified teacher, “from the mouth of a wise kabbalist speaking into the ear of an understanding recipient.” Only then can the person understand his comments. One could therefore wonder why Ramban even included sod in his Torah commentary, rather than leaving it as the domain of purely oral instruction. Ramban’s primary motive for including sod in his Torah commentary seems to have been in response to the wave of textually published sodot which he felt were wrong; by producing a cryptic alternative to these sodot he could stop people from studying these other incorrect comments, while still preventing anyone from understanding his own sodot without the required authoritative instruction.
These mystical refutations were primarily aimed against the popular Andalusian sodot which Ibn Ezra’s famous commentary had promoted: “now, had the commentator who self-glorifies in his ‘secrets’ known this, his lips would have been shut from mocking the words of our Rabbis. Therefore, I wrote this [sod comment] to shut the mouth of the one who slanders the righteous ones of old.”[39] This comment on Bereshit 24:1 was directed at Ibn Ezra, who had commented that a midrashic teaching about Avraham’s children could not possibly be in line with the peshat text grammatically; Ramban used this as a dual opportunity to both argue that Ibn Ezra lacked any actual sod while also penning his own cryptic sod about this now significant midrash. For another example of this, in the introduction to his Torah commentary, Ibn Ezra critiqued commentators who merely list a myriad of different midrashim on Bereshit 1:1 instead of examining the peshat, thus forcing Ramban to cite them all and weave them together into a greater sod: “this midrash of our Rabbis is very hidden and secret, for there are many things the Rabbis found that are called reishit and concerning which they gave midrashic interpretations, and those wanting in faith (Ibn Ezra) [merely] count their multitude…. I have mentioned [all] this in order to close the mouths of those wanting in faith and of little wisdom, who scoff at the words of our Rabbis.”[40]
Focusing now on the deeper rationale for why Ramban’s sod first requires oral instruction, it is because this version is analphabetic, meaning it is a system which does not begin with reading literature and practicing the skills of textual analysis to generate meaning. Instead, the student must first orally receive an authorized system of metaphysical truths from an approved teacher before they can creatively examine the texts: “this is one of the secrets of the Torah which is hidden from all but those who are worthy of receiving them through the oral tradition (kabbalah); it is prohibited to explain them in writing, and hints are useless.”[41] This is why the term kabbalah was used by figures such as Ramban: kabbalah is something which must be precisely “heard” from an authority, rather than something which can be read from a text.[42] Because this system begins from outside of the text, this allows the initiate to creatively displace the peshat of the text using their acquired metaphysics. For example, one of Ramban’s biggest mystical teachings on the Torah comes in the preface, where Ramban asserts that the opening verse, normally read as, “be-resihit, bara Elohim”, (At first, God created…) be reread as “be-rosh yitbara Elohim” (At first, God created Himself). This creative reading allows Ramban to harmonize the text’s creation narrative with the sefirotic system that he inherited, in which the Ein Sof (God) generates a Godhead (Himself) that is composed of different sefirot such as Bina, Hokhma, etc.[43] However, in doing so, Ramban must first ignore the peshat of the text by rearranging the grouping of consonants and vowels, also rendering the second half of the verse, “et ha-shamayim ve’et ha’aretz” (the heavens and the earth) unreadable, save perhaps from panentheistic connotations.[44] Thus, Ramban’s primary starting point here for sod is the sefirotic metaphysics which he orally received from his teachers; now armed with this system, he desires to read them into the text regardless of what happens to the original structure or peshat message. This rearrangement of the text also does not mirror the rearrangements and teachings seen in classical Rabbinic midrash, because Rabbinic midrash begins with, and remains anchored in, peshat teachings,[45] particularly regarding the peshat that God is not definable in any literal sense, “to whom then can you liken God, with what form can you make comparison?”[46] This foundational peshat leads to many midrashim pointing out that descriptions of God are only intended to teach a symbolic message about His actions rather than His “metaphysical essence.” “A jealous God – is there jealousy before Him?! And does He exact punishment using jealousy?! Behold, [it means] He does not exact punishment with a stone or an arrow or a spear…”.[47] Like Ramban, Hazal also creatively examined the curious phrasing of Bereishit 1:1, yet their teaching from this observation was as follows: “a flesh and blood [king] recalls his name first and then his praises. But the Holy One Blessed is He is not like this, rather He recalls His name after creating the world’s needs, [as the verse says] ‘bereishit bara,’ and then ‘Elohim’.”[48] Hazal thus preserved the original verse’s structure and its peshat message, while still adding to its depth with this midrash.
Another feature of Ramban’s sod is to turn specific words from the text into mystical codewords which represent different sefirot; unlike Rambam who shows the semantic shifting of words from within the textual peshat, Ramban simply replaces the peshat words with fixed mystical meanings which he learned from outside of the text. This also generates meanings which are often at odds with the peshat. A most surprising example is his statement, “if you comprehend what I have written, you will understand the accursed woman’s statement that ‘ever since we stopped raising incense to the Queen of Heaven (Shekhinah in Ramban’s system), we have lacked All (Kol, a specific attribute in Ramban’s system)[49] … you will apprehend obscure matters.”[50] The peshat presents Yirmiyahu’s struggle with those claiming that their recent lack of offerings to a false deity are responsible for their dire straits in exile.[51] Yet, Ramban has creatively reread this heresy as a truthful statement about God, which he argues may also now be applied elsewhere in the text if the student has the requisite oral instruction. Thus, sod, in this school, does not represent the literary foundation behind peshat, but rather stems from a set of received metaphysical concepts, which can displace that foundation when deemed appropriate by the authoritatively trained individual; put another way by Ramban, “the Torah is not empty like its peshat alone, but it has a soul which I (God) blew into the Torah, and it is the main point.”[52] Since they are no longer built on one another, this is perhaps responsible for the eventually common view that peshat and sod readings are totally separate forms of analysis. Since peshat analysis no longer matters for generating sod, and since all agree that sod is the highest goal of one’s studies,[53] a later Kabbalistic work took the mystical irrelevance of peshat to a logical conclusion by arguing that the 3 students who failed in the mystical Pardes, including Aher who became a heretic, failed due to finding peshat, midrash, or remez, rather than sod.[54] Generating the system of sod from pure textual study is simply a false promise for the student, and even a barrier to hearing true sod from a teacher. Ramban argued that no one can understand or analyze these topics in writing unless they have received direct instruction from a master kabbalist because without being told these metaphysical concepts, they would not be able to linguistically decode them from within the texts.
In summation, Rambam’s school of sod is one of linguistics, metaphors, and teaching the student to reach their full, unique potential from within the textual peshat. Ramban’s is a school in which outside metaphysical meanings are given to the approved student to reread the text with, hence why Ramban refers to these teachings with the term derekh ha-emet (way of the truth), which signals that he views this teaching as the objectively true mystical meaning without dispute. This stands in contrast to Rambam’s admittance that his own expositions on Ma’aseh Merkava are based on textual study and reasoned thinking, but may not be the ultimate understanding. Both systems, of course, caution the ill-prepared student about entering into the study of sod. As Hazal noted, Aher was led to heresy due to his dangerous techniques in entering and examining the Pardes.[55] For Ramban, the way to prevent this is to lock the truthful metaphysics away, thus requiring the student to approach an authority when they are deemed ready. However, without a peshat to anchor these teachings, and due to their primacy over the text itself, they may lead to even a trained student taking them into dangerous new modes of thinking, such as Shabbetai Tzevi.[56] Most readers of Ramban’s comments today simply skip these teachings or admit defeat, believing that mysticism lies beyond textual study and human reasoning. For Rambam, however, sod is not something to be locked away, it is simply a field of study which requires that the student first master peshat and other foundational teachings: “and I say, that it is not proper to stroll in the Pardes except for the individual who has filled his belly with bread and meat, and this bread and meat is the knowledge of the forbidden and the permitted, and similar matters from the other mitzvot.”[57] That being said, due to the Andalusian sod placing extreme emphasis on proper readings of Scripture which are grounded in peshat teachings, such as God being incorporeal, and the emphasis that midrash and sod never displace that peshat, even the unprepared reader is left relatively unharmed. As Rambam notes in his preface to the Moreh, “I feel assured that those of my readers who have not studied philosophy will still derive profit from many a chapter.”[58] At the very least, this student will leave with a better understanding of God’s incorporeality, and a deeper knowledge in the fundamental principles of Judaism which are contained within Scripture. However, for the student who properly trains themselves, the Moreh serves as an important step in allowing them to expand their mystical knowledge, until they may “clear [their] mind of anything else when reciting the Shema, or [their] prayers… guard those precious moments and turn your thoughts solely to intellectual worship of this kind, which brings you close to God, standing in His presence.”[59] Such mystical worship preserves the student’s reasoning, and infuses their textual study with a deeper awareness of the divine, which may have been weaker only moments before.
[1] See for example R. Yamin Levy’s, The Mysticism of Andalusia: Exploring HaRambam’s Mystical Tradition, Maimonides Heritage Center Press, 2023, which stands in contrast to prior authors such as Menachem Kellner, who paint Rambam as a staunch rationalist who opposed all mysticism (see Maimonides’ Confrontation with Mysticism, Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2006). This rationalistic view was also adopted by Moshe Halbertal in Maimonides: Life and Thought, Princeton University Press, 2014. Credit must be given to prior kabbalistic thinkers, who often recognized the mystical strata within Rambam, despite mistakenly equating it with kabbalah.
[2] Yirmiyahu 15:17. Translations are my own unless noted.
[3] Moreh HaNevukhim 1:71. All English translations of Moreh HaNevukhim are taken from Goodman and Lieberman, The Guide to the Perplexed: A New Translation (Stanford University Press, 2024).
For a detailed analysis of how Rambam’s traditions, both legal and mystical, represented such a culmination, see Rabbi Dr. José Faur, The Horizontal Society: Understanding the Covenant and Alphabetic Judaism, Academic Studies Press, 2010, Section V as well as his work, Homo Mysticus: A Guide to Maimonides’s Guide for the Perplexed, Syracuse University Press, 1999.
[4] Moreh HaNevukhim 1:62.
[5] Lewin, Otzar HaGeonim, Hagiga 14b, 20. See also Ibn Ezra on Shemot 28:6 where he invokes this teshuvah.
[6] See Mishnah Haggiga 2:1 for the restrictions on teaching these two sod subjects to others, as well as Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Yesodei HaTorah 4:10-11.
[7] Moreh HaNevukhim, Preface. I do not precisely define either of these two terms in this article, due to Ḥazal’s cautions against explicating these matters overtly, in addition to the fact that many prior commentators have misread them. (See Faur, Homo Mysticus: A Guide to Maimonides’s Guide for the Perplexed, Syracuse University Press, 1999, 18).
[8] Moreh HaNevukhim 1:8. Part One is composed of 76 total chapters which are mostly focused on linguistics. 35 of them exclusively analyze vocabulary.
[9] See Moreh HaNevukhim 1:3 for the subtle distinction between the words tavnit and temuna.
[10] Moreh HaNevukhim 1:1.
[11] This included using the ta’amim, which provide crucial information on the verse’s punctuation See Ibn Ezra on Shemot 34:6; For an example of another Andalusian figure who uses peshat to develop sod, see Ibn Ezra on Bereshit 1:1.
[12] Texts on grammar by acclaimed Andalusian figures such as Yonah ibn Janah were highly lauded in the broader Jewish world. See also Rashbam on Devarim 7:14, where he corrects his Torah scroll based on the superior grammatical fidelity of the Spanish scrolls.
[13] This fourfold division appears in later medieval sources such as Zohar Hadash, Sifra Tanina 104.
[15] Midrash often involves changing the unwritten vowels/punctuation while keeping the same written consonants. For more on Peshat versus Midrash, see my book, Understanding Peshat, Da’at Press 2025.
[17] Moreh HaNevukhim 2:23; for other examples of rejecting a philosophical model based on Scripture, see ibid 2:32 and 3:17.
[18] Moreh HaNevukhim 1:71
[19] Haggiga 14b. See also Homo Mysticus, 25, note 36.
[20] Haggiga 14b. for an analysis of this anecdote, see Moreh HaNevukhim 2:30
[21] See for instance his pointing attention in 2:43 to the semantic meaning of the words described in Zekhariah’s prophecy, which the reader must remember when they study Yehezkel’s vision in the beginning of Part Three.
[22] Moreh HaNevukhim Preface.
[23] The first esoteric text, Ma’aseh Bereshit, is not expounded until around 2:30.
[24] Moreh HaNevukhim 3:17.
[25] Translation from NJPS, with modifications.
[27] See Moreh HaNevukhim 3:22. Unlike in popular culture, Christian literature, and Zoharic mysticism, Ha-Satan is not a divine angel. Others in Rambam’s tradition rejected this notion as well, such as Rav Saadya Gaon (see Ibn Ezra on Iyyov 1:6). Ibn Ezra’s own hinted view on the sod of Ha-Satan is in accordance with Rambam’s view (ibid).
[28] Mishna Haggiga 2:1
[30] Moreh HaNevukhim, Preface.
[32] Moreh HaNevukhim 3:Preface
[33] Moreh HaNevukhim 1:21
[34] See Targum Onkelos on Shemot 34:6 and Sefer HaNivkhar be’Emunot ve’be’Deot 2:11
[35] See Moreh HaNevukhim 3:51-52
[36] Ramban’s mystical training was linked to the Provencal school of Yitzhak the Blind, the son of Ra’avad (see Moshe Halbertal, Nachmanides: Law and Mysticism, Yale University Press 2020).
[37] Ramban’s Introduction to his Torah commentary, translation from Charles B. Chavel, Shilo Pub. House, 1971-1976
[38] Ramban’s Introduction to his Torah commentary, my translation.
[39] Ramban’s commentary to Bereshit 24:1, my translation.
[40] Ramban’s commentary to Bereshit 1:1, translation from Chavel based on analysis by Moshe Halbertal, Concealment and Revelation: Esotericism in Jewish Thought and Its Philosophical Implications, Princeton University Press, 2007, 86-88.
[41] Kitve HaRamban 2:279, Mossad HaRav Kook edition, translation taken from Halbertal, Concealment and Revelation, 88.
[42] The term kabbalah in Geonic-Andalusian parlance meant the authentic transmission of the Oral Torah legal teachings from an approved figure in the post-Talmudic era; in contrast, mysticism and aggadot were flexible and dependent on a person’s specific understandings and studies of such topics (see José Faur, The Horizontal Society, Chapter 57).
[43] “[T]he word bereshit hints to the [sefirah] called hokhma, which is the first (reshit) of all beginnings, as I have mentioned…[Additionally], the word is adorned with a crown (keter) on the letter bet.” (Ramban on Bereshit 1:1; Chavel translation from Sefaria with slight modifications)
[44] The verse might now equate the heavens and earth with God’s “self-creation” through literary parallelism; such a notion was explicitly adopted by later kabbalistic thinkers such as the Ba’al HaTanya. (see Tanya, Sha’ar HaYihud 6:8) Contrast this position with R. Se’adya Gaon: “the one who says that the Creator of corporeal materials created them from Himself… these people, may God have mercy, are more foolish than the [proponents of the world’s eternity]. (Sefer HaNivhar be’Emunot ve’be’Deot 1:3, my translation).
[45] See Shabbat 63a for the principle that a verse never departs from its peshat. This principle is for when a person proposes a derasha, and thus was counted as one of the many techniques used for midrashim by R. Sherira Gaon (see Iggeret HaRav Sherira Gaon, Mishor Publishing, 2013, 198-199).
[46] Yeshayahu 40:18
[47] Midrash HaGadol Shemot 20:5, my translation.
[48] Bereshit Rabba 1:1, this author’s translation.
[49] The meaning of these terms for Ramban’s mystical system are based on the analyses brought by Halbertal in Nachmanides: Law and Mysticism
[50] Ramban’s commentary to Bereshit 24:1, translation from Halbertal, Nachmanides: Law and Mysticism, 301.
[51] “Thereupon they answered Yirmiyahu, all the men who knew that their wives made offerings to other gods… On the contrary, we will do everything that we have vowed – to make offerings to the Queen of Heaven and to pour libations to her, as we used to do, we and our ancestors, our kings and our officials, in the towns of Judah and the streets of Yerushalayim. For then we had plenty to eat, we were well-off and suffered no misfortune. But ever since we stopped making offerings to the Queen of Heaven and pouring libations to her, we have lacked everything, and we have been consumed by the sword and by famine.” (Yirmiyahu 44:15-18)
[52] Kitvei HaRamban vol. II, Mossad HaRav Kook, 468, my translation.
[53] “A great matter – Ma’aseh Merkavah. A small matter – the debates of Abaye and Rava.” (Sukkah 28a)
[54] See Zohar Hadash Tikuna Kadma’ah 26
[55] See Haggiga 15a, where Aher’s underprepared mind, and lack of linguistic savvy, cause him to suspect that there are two deities, paving the road to his heresy.
[56] For a different example of dangerous conclusions from this school, see Teshuvot HaRivash 157.
[57] MT, Hilkhot Yesode HaTorah 4:13, my translation. This teaching is based on the advice of Rav Hayye Gaon, which is found cited in Kitve Ramban, vol I, Mossad HaRav Kook, 349-350.
[58] Moreh HaNevukhim, Preface.
[59] Moreh HaNevukhim 3:51.
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