When philosophers take an interest in nonphilosophy (religion, art, politics), it is presupposed that philosophy does not stand apart from and to side of that which is other to it, that philosophical problems are best approached from points both inside and outside their own formal parameters. Once subjected to an extra-philosophical competence, philosophical judgment is as good as most current scholarship guiding it. The claim in this essay-that rabbinic Judaism provides a platform from which to explore spatial motility, religious iconicity, and non-realist, plastic expression-is itself only a recent scholarly possibility with which to stretch philosophy. Our attention goes in particular to holy space, though not for any religious reason per se. God will make no appearance, nor will any of God's surrogates in recent postmodern theology (event, gift, face of Other). Without recourse to any point of absolute transcendence, holiness will be understood as phenomenal space opened out by special rules negotiating difference between inside/outside, pure/ impure. These rules define a Temple-system, which after destruction of its physical site by Romans in 70 CE retains its status as a pseudo-place in rabbinic memory and imagination. Talmud brings to philosophical phenomenology and to phenomenology of religion an architecture based on bent space and movement, an embodied presence in a world that is no longer present at hand. The cliche regarding Judaism in contemporary theoretical circles (from Adorno through Lyotard and Derrida to Zizek and Badiou) assumes that the is hostile to plastic representation and to all representation tout court. The Judaism upon which this cliche rests is not without Jewish support, just as Kant construed his anti-Judaism on good authority of Spinoza and Mendelssohn. As observed by Kalman Bland in The Artless Jew, notion that Judaism is aniconic was a conceit, embraced warmly by Jewish thinkers imbued with intellectual elan of German Idealism. One finds it expressed by eminent historian Heinrich Graetz in nineteenth century and by Marburg neo-Kantian philosopher Hermann Cohen at start of twentieth. The counter-image of Judaic law that I will offer in this essay belongs more to plastic art and to late twentieth century scholar-theorists at work in pre-modern Jewish source material.1 It draws on Leviticus and ritual more than prophecy and revelation. Fixed upon bodies that are at once concrete and imaginai, this analysis runs alongside Merleau-Ponty and phenomenology of perception. My aim is to pull Jewish philosophy and philosophy of religion away from Levinasian Judaism and new apophatic theology, to tug them back into platonic cave, what Baudrillard called the seductions of space.2 The difference between Jewish and Christian iconicity lie in form as well as in content. Christian icons are luminous, self-centered shapes. For Jean-Luc Marion, they comprise a physical presence saturated by an infinite meaning that is surplus to it. Viewed more prosaically, Christian icon is a physical copy of a copy of a copy. Icons of Jesus, Mary, and saints proliferate. There is no one single original image, apart from Son, i.e., image of Father. In contrast, Judaism suggests a model of iconicity without icons. By this I mean organization of being around a specialized, spatial configuration with no visible image, object, or person position at its center. Pre-ceding figure of Jesus Christ, Tabernacle and first and second Temple (first qua physical site, then qua image) constitute this configuration in classical Judaism. Not figure of God, not image of God, not God as an object of worship, it is rather architectural frame, a three-dimensional place of worship, that constitutes icon which first draws eye.3 The Order of Holy Things in Mishna and Talmud provides one such example. …