Rabbinic Material Research Articles

Death and Salvation in Paul and Ancient Judaism (1 Corinthians 5:5)

Abstract In 1 Cor 5:5, Paul responds to a matter of church discipline by commanding the Corinthians to “hand this man over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh so that the spirit might be saved on the day of the Lord.” One intransigent problem in this verse is the causal relationship at its heart: how can “destruction of the flesh” result in “salvation of the spirit”? In 1972, Göran Forkman suggested the rabbinic notion of atoning death—that death, plus confession, provides atonement for individual sin—might illuminate Paul’s logic. The man’s punishment expiates his crime and permits him to share in eternal life. Forkman’s suggestion has not gained wide acceptance: the rabbinic texts are late; they require confession for death to have expiatory value; moreover, expiatory death seems impossible to reconcile with Pauline thought. I reexamine this possibility in three parts. First, the rabbinic material is far more diverse than Forkman realized: death, physical suffering, and shameful burial all have expiatory value without confession. Second, expiatory death and suffering also appear in earlier Second Temple texts. Finally, since Paul invokes individual expiatory death and suffering elsewhere, it is a viable interpretation for this passage as well.

Afterlife and Resurrection Beliefs in the Pseudepigrapha by Jan A. Sigvartsen

Reviewed by: Afterlife and Resurrection Beliefs in the Pseudepigrapha by Jan A. Sigvartsen Glenn B. Siniscalchi jan a. sigvartsen, Afterlife and Resurrection Beliefs in the Pseudepigrapha (Jewish and Christian Texts in Contexts and Related Studies 31; London: T&T Clark, 2019). Pp. xxiv + 331. $39.95. This volume was deliberately written as a companion to Sigvartsen's earlier book, Afterlife and Resurrection Beliefs in the Apocrypha and Apocryphal Literature (see preceding review). Together these books constitute two of the most penetrating studies on the ways in which Jews of the Second Temple era understood the afterlife; they also help to bring the study of Jewish eschatological visions (including the resurrection) to center stage as a major area of biblical scholarship. S.'s books should also be consulted by NT specialists for information about the religious background for the earliest Christians' belief in Jesus's resurrection. The origins of mainstream belief in the resurrection are often traced back to the Second Temple period. During this time, after the Jews came into contact with surrounding religious cultures, they began to synthesize and amalgamate different views of the afterlife as part of their own religious framework. Thus, "multiple afterlife beliefs developed and appeared in their literature, in an attempt to solve the problem of theodicy. By the end of this period, a belief in bodily resurrection had become the mainstream belief in both surviving strands of Second Temple Judaism" (p. 3). In particular, S. exposits the Pseudepigrapha for the purposes of understanding ancient Judaism, resurrection, and the afterlife. These writings include all books of the Second Temple period apart from the Dead Sea Scrolls, Philo, Josephus, the NT, and other rabbinic material. They are characterized as Testaments, expansions on the Tanakh, wisdom and philosophical literature, prayers, psalms, and odes. Apocryphal writings might also be considered pseudepigraphical, but S. covered these writings in his previous volume. In the first few chapters, S. observes that pseudepigraphical writings that either state or imply a belief in the resurrection refer or allude to the Tanakh as the basis of their faith. Jews rephrased, reshaped, and repurposed the Hebrew Bible to clarify and expand their belief in resurrection. This pattern is found repeatedly throughout the pseudepigraphical writings. S. also considers the ways in which Jews conceived of the posthumous body and how their understandings compare with those in the NT. Sigvartsen is highly organized in outlining the relevant passages that speak about the afterlife and eschatological resurrection. For example, "Each literary work containing a 'life-after-death' view seems to present a unique perspective. … This study identified eighteen distinct and complete views" (p. 209). To be sure, the book provides the reader with several tables to organize the various Jewish understandings of the afterlife. The thesis is that "there is no progression from a basic to a more complex death and resurrection view as multiple levels of complexity are attested throughout this period. … [T]here is no linear [End Page 339] development of the resurrection belief; rather, multiple views co-existed, although an eschatological bodily resurrection belief became the central tenet for both Rabbinic Judaism and the Christian Church" (p. 209). This book is extremely helpful in organizing ancient Jewish conceptions of the afterlife (including the resurrection). One is bound to develop a comprehensive grasp of the entire panoply of Jewish viewpoints concerning the afterlife after reading S.'s two books. Glenn B. Siniscalchi Saint Meinrad Seminary and Graduate School of Theology, Rockport, IN 47577 Copyright © 2022 The Catholic Biblical Association of America

Jews on the Move: Catherine Hezser’s Jewish Travel in Antiquity

As part of NTT JTSR’s series on Key Texts, the present article discusses Catherine Hezser’s monograph Jewish Travel in Antiquity (2011). We demonstrate that Hezser’s work has been groundbreaking in its challenge of the predominantly sedentary characterisation of Jews in much of previous scholarship. In reaction to this image of Jews in the first five centuries of the common era, Hezser shows that travel played an extensive role in late-antique Jewish life. Hezser argues, for instance, that the travels of rabbis were a pivotal factor in the development of the social structure of the rabbinic movement. Notwithstanding the innovative nature of Hezser’s argument, her focus on the rabbinic movement means that her discussion of pre-rabbinic Jewish material tends to remain somewhat superficial. What is more, Hezser’s historicising reading of the rabbinic material can be challenged on the ground of the different genres and literary formulations represented in the rabbinic writings. In short, therefore, Hezser’s work has been instrumental in placing Jewish travel solidly on the scholarly agenda, but it has not provided the final word on the topic.

Usury and Poverty: A Case Study of the Post-Rabbinic Moment in Midrash and Piyyut

AbstractThe Hebrew Bible prohibits lending at interest. This is usually linked to care for the poor. A similar connection is found in post-biblical literature as well. In Deut 23:20–21, however, usury is disconnected from the poverty laws. Classical rabbinic literature (second to sixth centuries) follows Deuteronomy in sharply de-coupling usury from poverty: the usury prohibition in that corpus regulates commerce and property, and is not intended to benefit the poor. In a sharp break with classical rabbinic tradition, the usury prohibition is reassociated with the poor in piyyut and in the Tanhuma midrashim, two late antique genres of Jewish literature associated but not entirely contiguous with classical rabbinic literature. Both genres bring this tradition to the fore through the use of earlier rabbinic materials, which do not espouse it. This combination of usury and care for the poor mirrors fourth-century Christian writings on usury.

Rebuke, Lending, and Love: An Early Exegetical Tradition on Leviticus 19:17–18

In this article I posit the presence of an early Jewish exegesis of Lev 19:17–18 preserved in the Tannaitic midrash known as Sifra, which is inverted and amplified in Did. 1:3–5, Q 6:27–35, Luke 6:27–35, and Matt 5:38–44. Identifying shared terminology and a sequence of themes in these passages, I argue that these commonalities testify to the existence of a shared exegetical tradition. By analyzing the later rabbinic material I delineate the contours of this Second Temple period interpretation and augment our understanding of the construction of these early Christian pericopae. In commenting on Lev 19:17, Sifra articulates three permissible modes of rebuke: cursing, hitting, and slapping. In its gloss on the subsequent verse, Sifra exemplifies the biblical injunction against vengeance and bearing a grudge through the case of lending and borrowing from one’s neighbor. The Didache, Matthew, and Luke invert the first interpretation by presenting Jesus as recommending a passive response to being cursed or slapped, and they amplify the second interpretation by commanding one to give and lend freely to all who ask. The similar juxtaposition of these two ideas and the shared terminology between Sifra and these New Testament period texts suggest a common source. By reading these early Christian sources in light of this later rabbinic work I advance our understanding of the formation of these well-known passages and illustrate the advantages of cautiously employing rabbinic material for reading earlier Christian works.

Rebuke, Lending, and Love: An Early Exegetical Tradition on Leviticus 19:17–18

In this article I posit the presence of an early Jewish exegesis of Lev 19:17–18 preserved in the Tannaitic midrash known as Sifra, which is inverted and amplified in Did. 1:3–5, Q 6:27–35, Luke 6:27–35, and Matt 5:38–44. Identifying shared terminology and a sequence of themes in these passages, I argue that these commonalities testify to the existence of a shared exegetical tradition. By analyzing the later rabbinic material I delineate the contours of this Second Temple period interpretation and augment our understanding of the construction of these early Christian pericopae. In commenting on Lev 19:17, Sifra articulates three permissible modes of rebuke: cursing, hitting, and slapping. In its gloss on the subsequent verse, Sifra exemplifies the biblical injunction against vengeance and bearing a grudge through the case of lending and borrowing from one's neighbor. The Didache, Matthew, and Luke invert the first interpretation by presenting Jesus as recommending a passive response to being cursed or slapped, and they amplify the second interpretation by commanding one to give and lend freely to all who ask. The similar juxtaposition of these two ideas and the shared terminology between Sifra and these New Testament period texts suggest a common source. By reading these early Christian sources in light of this later rabbinic work I advance our understanding of the formation of these well-known passages and illustrate the advantages of cautiously employing rabbinic material for reading earlier Christian works.

ACHSAH GUIBBORY, Christian Identity, Jews, and Israel in Seventeenth-Century England.

ACCORDING to the standard narrative of literary criticism, Christianity and Judaism represent one of the greatest examples of binary dualism in early modern England. Yet such an approach collapses the range of English attitudes towards Jews. More recent criticism resists an over-simplified grand narrative in which Jews and Israel were respectively treated as outsiders—the ‘Other’—and without influence in Christian identity. In the past twenty years, then, a number of valuable historical philo-semitic studies have built upon the early work of scholars—including David S. Katz and Kitty Cohen—in order to demonstrate nuanced and complex relationships between Christianity and Judaism. Representing a scholarly shift in this perception is the writing of Jason Rosenblatt, Jeffrey Shoulson, Christopher Hill, and Sharon Achinstein. Achsah Guibbory's Christian Identity, Jews, and Israel in Seventeenth-Century England continues an expanding historiography that is concerned with Christian encounters with Jews. Her book explores the various ways that early modern Christians put to use perceptions of Jews, Judaism, and biblical Israel in an effort to legitimize the nation-state and its institutions. As such, Guibbory's concern is with English engagement with the Hebrew Bible (or Old Testament), rather than with rabbinic material, the Semitic languages or the Jewish race. Concepts of Jewishness and Israel became especially resonant following the Reformation: Guibbory argues that, post- Reformation, the Hebrew Bible was ‘foundational to English Protestant Christianity,’ a tool of ‘both the powerful and the powerless—helping to imagine a nation’ and inspire ‘ideals of justice and equality’ (295). This argument may begin to explain why so many early modern sermons, political pamphlets, and texts such as Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan refer, often extensively, to Jewish sources.

גנזי חז"ל בספרות הקראית בימי הביניים (Rabbinic excerpts in medieval Karaite literature) (review)

Reviewed by: גנזי חז"ל בספרות הקראית בימי הביניים (Rabbinic excerpts in medieval Karaite literature) Ahouva Shulman גנזי חז"ל בספרות הקראית בימי הביניים (Rabbinic excerpts in medieval Karaite literature). By Ofra Tirosh-Becker. Vol.1 Philological and Linguistic Studies; Vol. 2, A Critical and Annotated Scientific Edition of the Texts. Pp. Vol. 1, כב + 465 ; Vol. 2, טו + 814. Jerusalem: The Bialik Institute, 2011. Cloth. This comprehensive work is an invaluable contribution to the study of rabbinic literature. It provides an additional corpus of rabbinic literature, the rabbinic material cited in the writings of the Karaites. Rabbinic Excerpts in Medieval Karaite Literature is the result of very extensive research of approximately 200 Karaite manuscripts, written by fifteen Karaite scholars in Arabic and Hebrew from the ninth to the eleventh century. Karaite scholars were familiar with rabbinic literature, and in spite of their objection to the Oral Law, they often incorporated excerpts from it in their works. Rabbinic Excerpts in Medieval Karaite Literature reveals for the first time the scope of the Karaites' practice of including rabbinic passages in their writings, and the wide range of rabbinic sources from which they were taken. The book studies these excerpts and presents them in a scientific edition. The first volume is a philological and linguistic study of the rabbinic excerpts embedded in the Karaite manuscripts. The second volume is a critical and annotated scientific edition of these excerpts. The first volume consists of fourteen chapters. In chapters 1 to 11, Tirosh-Becker discusses and thoroughly analyzes the Karaite manuscripts. In the last three chapters, she explains the methodology of her research, reviews the manuscripts used in the scientific edition, and describes the process and methods of preparing the scientific edition. Rabbinic Excerpts in Medieval Karaite Literature contains a wealth of important and useful information about the rabbinic excerpts embedded in Karaite literature. It begins with a general discussion of the main periods of the Karaite movement, which was established in the ninth century, and experienced its "golden age" during the tenth and eleventh centuries. It introduces the Karaite scholars, their activities and their extensive works, which consists of diverse literary genres, such as biblical commentary, theological [End Page 416] and philosophical essays, grammars and more, written mostly in Arabic (chap. 1). The book also discusses the Karaites' attitude toward incorporation of rabbinic literature in their writings (chap. 2). Although their ideology was based on the centrality of the Hebrew Bible, and in spite of the ideological rivalry between the Karaites and the Rabbinate, the Karaites read rabbinic literature and studied it in order to fully understand their philosophical rivals, and in order to explain their own opinions to the Karaite community. Tirosh-Becker discusses the Karaite scholars' motivation to cite a great number of rabbinic passages in their writings, and she suggests four motives: 1). As evidence to support their own arguments in the debate with the Rabbinate; 2). They wanted to present a wide range of opinions about a specific question; 3). Sometimes the rabbinic source is the only evidence for matters that are not found in the Bible or in any other source; 4). The softening of the rivalry between the Karaites and the rabbis at the end of the eleventh century facilitated the Karaites' study and use of early rabbinic literature. Tirosh-Becker concludes that the Karaite scholars had many rabbinic manuscripts in their possession, as well as access to information through contacts with heads of the rabbinic communities. Chapter 3 deals with the origin, language, and script of the Karaite manuscripts. Most of the manuscripts used in this research are from two important libraries, the British Library in London and the Firkovitz Collection in the national Russian Library in Saint Petersburg. The manuscripts were written in Arabic and in Hebrew. Tirosh-Becker notes that the Karaites' Arabic manuscripts were written in Arabic letters, which was unusual at the time, and in contradiction to the common practice of the rabbis who used to write their Arabic essays in Hebrew letters. Another unusual practice was transliterating the Holy Bible into Arabic letters. According to Tirosh-Becker it was done in order to reflect the proper pronunciation of the biblical text, either for learning purposes or to enable those who were not familiar with the Hebrew script...

The Origins of Jewish Mysticism (review)

Reviewed by: The Origins of Jewish Mysticism Eliezer Segal The Origins of Jewish Mysticism, by Peter Schäfer. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009. 398 pp. €99.00. The Mishnah (Hagigah 2:1) identified a number of topics in the rabbinic curriculum that could not be taught openly, among which the most secret was "the work of the chariot," the Ma'aseh Merkavah. It is clear that this esoteric discipline revolves around the extraordinary vision related in the first two chapters of Ezekiel in which the prophet saw a human-like figure enthroned upon a fantastic vehicle that was composed of and drawn by an assortment of supernatural beings. Consistent with the Mishnah's insistence on secrecy—though, to be sure, that was the policy of the school of Rabbi Akiva and was not shared by the school of Rabbi Ishmael—rabbinic literature provides very little actual information about the contents of the Ma'aseh Merkavah, and in the talmudic narratives the expositions are accompanied by an aura of supernatural special effects. The issue has been confused considerably by the fact that major schools of medieval Jewish religious thought, including both Maimonides' Aristotelianism and the Kabbalah, claimed to be rooted in the ancient Work of the Chariot. The central question in much of classic academic analysis of rabbinic esotericism was how, if at all, it connected to the late rabbinic or early medieval "Hekhalot" texts that described mystical ascents of pseudepigraphic ancient rabbis through multiple levels of palaces until they were vouchsafed a vision of the divine "chariot." Recent generations of scholars have enriched the discussion with the inclusion of a larger number of relevant texts (especially [End Page 158] the new material from Qumran), a more sophisticated understanding of the redactional and textual complexities of rabbinic literature, better editions of the Hekhalot texts (for which we are especially indebted to Prof. Schäfer), and more nuanced methodological formulations of the religious concepts of mysticism and esotericism. It is therefore most fitting that these issues be addressed again by a scholar with proven mastery of the discipline. Schäfer's method here generally involves reading each of the relevant primary texts very cautiously with a focus on those features that could define it as "mystical," notably, whether or not it speaks of humans having a close experience or encounter with God. The introductory chapter surveys the more prominent theoretical approaches to defining the category of mysticism and its specific Jewish versions. Schäfer finds flaws in all these theories and does not really offer a definition of his own, opting instead for a pragmatic and flexible approach that would emerge organically from the texts rather than being imposed by scholarly fiat. Allowing the texts to speak for themselves encourages a receptiveness to patterns that were overlooked by previous scholars, such as the "restorative" tendency of many of the texts that are concerned with bringing back an intimacy with God that was severed by the destruction or defiling of the holy Temple. Especially when assessing the rabbinic material, Schäfer consistently places the burden of proof on those who would claim that a given text conveys a mystical experience; or (if the passage is undeniably mystical) then, on those who would argue for a more intimate degree of mystical encounter—e.g., describing a "union" rather than mere "communion" with the divine. When dealing with rabbinic traditions, especially those emanating from the tannaitic era, this approach brings him to an assessment that is very close to the one proposed by David Halperin in his The Merkabah in Rabbinic Literature, according to which the Work of the Chariot ought to be perceived as an exegetical activity rather than an experiential mysticism. Accordingly, Schäfer argues that the rabbis' trepidations about public dissemination of the exegesis stemmed not so much from their fears of the psychological or spiritual injuries that might be caused by the intense experience, but from their desire to avoid disrespectful over-familiarity with the Almighty. In this connection, it was surprising to note that Schäfer made almost no reference to E. Urbach's 1968 study of esoteric traditions in the tannaitic era which took a very similar critical approach...

The Hebrew republic: Jewish sources and the transformation of European political thought

According to a commonplace narrative, the rise of modern political thought in the West resulted from secularization - the exclusion of religious arguments from political discourse. But in this pathbreaking work, Eric Nelson argues that this familiar story is wrong. Instead, he contends, political thought in early-modern Europe became less, not more, secular with time, and it was the Christian encounter with Hebrew sources that provoked this radical transformation. During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Christian scholars began to regard the Hebrew Bible as a political constitution designed by God for the children of Israel. Newly available rabbinic materials became authoritative guides to the institutions and practices of the perfect republic. This thinking resulted in a sweeping reorientation of political commitments. In the book's central chapters, Nelson identifies three transformative claims introduced into European political theory by the Hebrew revival: the argument that republics are the only legitimate regimes; the idea that the state should coercively maintain an egalitarian distribution of property; and, the belief that a godly republic would tolerate religious diversity. One major consequence of Nelson's work is that the revolutionary politics of John Milton, James Harrington, and Thomas Hobbes appear in a brand-new light. Nelson demonstrates that central features of modern political thought emerged from an attempt to emulate a constitution designed by God. This paradox, a reminder that while we may live in a secular age, we owe our politics to an age of religious fervor, in turn illuminates fault lines in contemporary political discourse.

Frames of War: When is Life Grievable? by Judith Butler

866 Reviews draw attention to theological inconsistencies, or, in the instances ofWinterson, Diski, and Diamant, subvert patriarchal interpretations of Scripture. If each of these novelists plunders the chapters of Genesis for trope, symbol, and character, it is not clear that a single one anticipates anything like illumination or spiritual instruction. However, Wright establishes that all of his chosen writers had, at the very least, a basic knowledge ofMidrash and, in certain cases, they 'incorporated substantial amounts of rabbinic material into their novels' (p. 169). Each ofWright's case studies is engaging and will be especially valuable for readers who have a good knowledge of the fiction under review but who are less familiar with the complex web of religious references that are woven through the novels. For example, although Winterson's readers would have to tryhard to avoid the biblical allusions in her work, Wright demonstrates the subtle ways in which she remains indebted to Christian thought: she rebels against Evangelical literalism but her fictionmight be more unconventionally devotional than even the novelist herself recognizes. Although there are no weak links in the study, the strongest chapters, inmy view, are the readings of Twain, Steinbeck, and Mann. Wright's critical sensitivity isparticularly acute in his analysis of Twain's savagely subversive' private writing. The study is, on occasion, a little too gentle with these combative novelists and Iwould have welcomed more exploration of themodern assumptions that inform their critical rewritings. Are these new narratives always free from the traces of prejudice and irrationality that they frequently find in the biblical stories? The book might also have benefited from the inclusion of a more orthodox writer alongside thedisbelievers. Ifeffortless scepticism is common amongst serious modern writers, biblical rewritings are surely not the preserve of either disbelievers or fundamentalists? Yet these are minor criticisms of a book thatmakes an extremely valuable contribution to the fieldof literature, theory, and theology. Lancaster University Andrew Tate Frames ofWar: When is Life Grievable? By Judith Butler. London and New York: Verso. 2009. viii+193 pp. ?14.99. ISBN 978-1-84467-333-9. 'Precariousness', JudithButler writes in the introductory chapter of her new book, grounds [. . .] positive social obligations (paradoxically because precariousness is a kind of "ungrounding" that constitutes a generalized condition for the hu man animal) at the same time that the aim of such obligations is to minimize precariousness and itsunequal distribution' (p. 22). This sentence?dense, direct, and rigorously targeted at real-life conditions?stands for the key qualities of this impressive volume of essays. The sentence also demands, commendably, a serious effortof attentive engagement from the reader; itsown framing of a double paradox (precariousness grounds and is an ungrounding; precariousness entails aminimiz ing of itself) is an instance of Butlers standing in a great essayistic tradition. The presence and influence of Simone de Beauvoir, George Orwell, and, perhaps more MLRy 105.3, 2oio 867 surprisingly,Henry James (onwhom Butler wrote two elegant and trenchant essays a fewyears ago) are all in evidence. Like all of these figures,Butler uses writing with a rewarding vividness as a way of thinking through difficult situations. Like many great essayists, she provides textured claritywithout pat resolution. Reading her work is an act of participation: it is to share in the alive unfolding of this beautiful and necessary process. Butlers charged eloquence addresses a range of difficult situations inFrames of War. She argues for a politics based on mutual recognition of a shared precarious life. The relationship between life and precariousness is to be imagined, Butler insists, as a conditioned process; she also views this relationship in anti-monadic terms and inways that arewisely wary of anthropocentrism. For Butler the exces sive valuing ofmonadic entities?persons, cultures, and states?is all too operative in scenarios of contemporary war and nation-state perpetuation. But the operation of current global wars is also based, she argues, on powerful but, in their perpetu ation, sometimes fragile frameswhich decide that some lives count as lives and are grievable and some do not (hence the book's terse yet vast subtitling question). If these questions pertain to the global, they also touch on (and destroy) fragile and intimate spheres. Butler explores them in...

Converts, Heretics, and Lepers: Maimonides and the Outsider (review)

Reviewed by: Converts, Heretics, and Lepers: Maimonides and the Outsider Menachem Kellner Converts, Heretics, and Lepers: Maimonides and the Outsider, by James A. Diamond. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007. 360 pp. $35.00. When University of Notre Dame Press asked me for a blurb for this remarkable book, I responded that it consisted of “a series of extraordinarily close readings of core texts of Maimonides’, readings which illuminate the delicate interplay between philosophical and religious ideas in Maimonides. In his previous work, Diamond convincingly illustrated the way in which Maimonides carefully chooses, subtly interprets, and circumspectly weaves together rabbinic materials to address philosophers and talmudists alike, each in their own idiom. This book is a further expression of Diamond’s mastery of this intricate methodology and is a work to be studied and re-studied.” Asked now to write a full-fledged review of the book, I find myself in a quandary: Diamond’s book is indeed a major contribution to Maimonides [End Page 150] studies, but its value lies primarily in its detailed reading of discrete texts, readings which can hardly be summarized here. Indeed, Maimonides himself faced a similar quandary. Desiring to write a commentary explicating the inner, esoteric (philosophical) meaning of rabbinic aggadot, he realized that if he explained their meaning, he would be going against the will of the Sages, who, after all, wrote esoterically for a reason; if, on the other hand, he replaced one philosophical allegory with another, of what use would be his book? Wanting to be faithful to Diamond and useful to the reader of this review, I shall therefore restrict myself to summarizing some of his main conclusions, while urging all readers of Shofar to study this fine book itself—is that not after all the point of a rave review? In separate chapters Diamond focuses on Maimonides’ treatment of “outsiders”: proselytes, lepers, heretics, kings, philosophers, and, the ultimate “outsider,” God. Proselytes come from the outside and seek to enter the inner precincts of Judaism and the Jewish people; lepers are forced outside the camp, while heretics force themselves outside of it; kings (who ought to be philosophers) are set over and against the rest of the House of Israel, while philosophers (who ought to be invited to be kings) set themselves apart from the rest of the House of Israel while assiduously pretending not to. Maimonides’ sharply transcendent God is, of course, the ultimate other, an other, however, which is said to be always present (which necessitates a distinct but connected chapter on the notion of Shekhinah). A final chapter on the Sabbath, as “temporal outsider,” rounds out this noteworthy book. Through his insistence on dogmatic orthodoxy, Maimonides turns Judaism into a church of true believers (my language, not Diamond’s); it is thus no surprise that through a subtle reading of Maimonides’ letter to R. Obadiah the Proselyte, Diamond shows us how Maimonides “construct[s] a model of the convert as the only authentic Jew” (p. 31). In Diamond’s talented hands, Maimonides is shown to transform the rabbinic reading of the Biblical leper as someone punished (not by Hansen’s disease, but by a divine malady) for humanly damaging misuse of language (lashon ha-ra) into a metaphor, a metaphor for the consequence of the misuse, not of language, but of what makes language possible, the intellect (ha-ko’ ah ha-meddabber in medieval philosophic Hebrew). There is no way that I can describe in this short review the subtlety of Diamond’s analysis of Maimonides’ use of verses and rabbinic proof-texts in these and the other chapters of this book. Diamond takes a linguistic pebble and throws it into the sea of Maimonides’ thought, following the ripples where they lead: verses connect to verses and to rabbinic glosses upon them, which in turn lead to further exegetical and philosophical ripples. There is always [End Page 151] the danger of “over-reading,” of seeing more in the text than Maimonides’ intended. This reader, for one, is convinced that Diamond avoids that danger, although, to be honest, it may be because he and I read the same Rambam, as it were. A reader whose...

SEEKING TO SEE HIM AT THE FESTIVAL OF PASCHA: GLORY-SOTERIOLOGY IN EARLY CHRISTIAN PASCHAL MATERIALS AND RABBINIC LITERATURE

Two of the oldest Christian Paschal homilies, one by Melito of Sardis and the other of unknown origin (preserved under the names of Hippolytus of Rome and John Chrysostom), testify to the expectation of the descent of the divine and salvific glory during the Paschal night. I would call the theological doctrine behind this liturgical practice glory-soteriology or kabod-soteriology. Rabbinic materials such as the targums Neofiti 1 and Pseudo-Jonathan attest to a similar expectation on the night of the festival of Pesach. The salvific power of this glory seems to constitute the first rationale for this expectation, and the Festival of Pascha the privileged time for the divine descent and manifestation. Since further investigation identifies similar elements in the writings of Philo of Alexandria, the present study proposes what might be called a «two-branched» theory: one might reasonably suppose that both the Christian and the Jewish-rabbinic expectations of the descent of the salvific glory of Pascha may constitute two different developments of a common matrix in the Second Temple festival of Passover. Major doctrinal and ritual shifts emerge in Christian worship where Jesus Christ took the place of Yahweh or of his Word.

RESURRECTION OF ADAM'S BODY: THE REDEEMING ROLE OF ENOCH-METATRON IN 2 (SLAVONIC) ENOCH

The study investigates the ritual of anointing with the oil of the resurrection found in 2 Enoch. 2 Enoch 22:9 portrays the archangel Michael anointing Enoch with delightful oil, the ointment of glory which transforms the patriarch into a celestial creature. According to some rabbinic materials this oil of the resurrection which is responsible for the change of human mortal nature into the glorious state of a celestial being will come at the eschatological time from the head of the Deity.

Wrestling with God & Men: Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition (review)

Reviewed by: Wrestling with God & Men: Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition Saul M. Olyan Wrestling with God & Men: Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition, by Steven Greenberg. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2004. 304 pp. $35.00. This interesting and unusual book, written by Steven Greenberg, an openly gay modern Orthodox rabbi known previously for his writing in Tikkun Magazine under the pseudonym Yaakov Levado and for his brief appearance in the documentary Trembling Before G-d, combines autobiographical narrative with exegesis of biblical and traditional Jewish texts which deal with, or allegedly deal with, homoeroticism. Its bold purpose: to fashion an "Orthodox argument" for the "inclusion of gay and lesbian Jews in the Orthodox community" (pp. 10, 29). Through his analysis, the author seeks "to clarify how both identities, gay and Orthodox, can engage each other in conversation in new and productive ways" (p. 16). He predicts that just as feminism has begun to have a concrete impact on modern Orthodoxy, so one day will internal debates about sexuality: "Just as with women, gay people's presence in Orthodox environments, as faithful committed members, will move the system in its own time and its own way" (p. 15). Ultimately, the focus of the book is the proscriptions of Lev. 18:22 and 20:13. Greenberg believes that the present halakhic understanding of these pivotal texts "is in error" (p. 13). Observing that Halakhah has changed over time and will continue to change, he offers a counter-reading that he hopes will be adopted within Orthodox circles: that the biblical prohibitions refer not to the consensual sexual acts of loving couples, but to sex based on domination: "Sex for the conquest, for shoring up the ego, for self-aggrandizement, or worse, for the perverse pleasure of demeaning another man is prohibited. This is an abomination" (p. 206). Such a reading, for Greenberg, "offers gay people a way to reconnect to God, Torah, and the Jewish people" (p. 206). The book is divided into four parts: a survey of relevant Torah passages ("Sacred Texts"); an examination of other texts that concern homoeroticism, including biblical texts outside of the Torah, rabbinic materials, medieval poetry, and responsa literature ("Evidence"); a discussion of four possible explanations for the proscriptions of Lev. 18:22 and 20:13 ("Rationales"); and a final section ("Conversations") in which the author seeks to develop a practical methodology for Orthodox rabbis and their gay and lesbian congregants "to begin talking about policy despite their sharply differing subjective experiences" (p. 38). These are preceded by a helpful introduction that includes a brief overview of classical Jewish texts for the uninitiated. Intended for a mixed audience of Orthodox rabbis, Orthodox lay people (both heterosexual and gay and lesbian), and others who might be interested (e.g., conservative Christians), the book is clearly written and should appeal [End Page 195] to anyone who follows contemporary debate about homosexuality in Judaism. For those outside of the Orthodox community, it will provide an entry to texts and traditional arguments that are not otherwise easily accessible. In fact, one of the strengths of this book is its collection of disparate and often recondite material. Another is the nicely imagined final section addressed to rabbis and their congregants. There are problems, however. Greenberg tends to consult academic scholarship only sporadically, particularly when it suits his argument, ignoring it when it does not (e.g., regarding the love language in the David and Jonathan prose narratives, which scholars have long understood in a covenant framework, a point unacknowledged by the author). The book's subtitle, Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition, is misleading, given the author's exclusive focus on Orthodoxy. Though much of Greenberg's presentation and analysis of Lev. 18:22 and 20:13 is dependent on my own published work (Journal of the History of Sexuality 5 [1994]: 179–206), this fact is not sufficiently acknowledged. Finally, the author's central argument that Lev. 18:22 and 20:13 ought to be read as prohibiting only sex that demonstrates power and lacks a love motive is problematic. There is no evidence for this interpretation in the Leviticus passages themselves (no language of coercion is used, e.g...

Ibn Ezra and Rashbam on Qohelet: Two Perspectives in Contrast

The purpose of this article is to analyze Abraham ibn Ezra's and Rashbam's commentaries on the book of Qohelet, and to contrast their respective methodologies. Both commentators use Biblical and Rabbinic Hebrew to explain the meaning of the words of Qohelet, but the tendency to refer to Rabbinic Hebrew is more evident in Rashbam. Although both commentators have recourse to philological principles, Abraham ibn Ezra uses them more extensively providing more details and specifications. Both commentators also employ parallelism as an exegetical tool, but there are differences in the extensive use of this method. Differences between both commentaries can be traced in the quotation of interpretations of previous commentators, and specifically of the rabbinic material, and in the utilization of scientific and moralistic explanations. Special attention is paid to differences in their use of terminology. The analysis of these commentaries also implies the contrast of two different traditions: the tradition of the school of Northern France and the tradition of the Spanish school.

The Dependence of Rabbi David Kimhi (Radak) on Rashi in His Quotation of Midrashic Traditions

This article demonstrates that the 13th-century exegete Rabbi David Kimhi (Radak) relied on Rashi as a source for midrashic traditions, in addition to his known use of Rashi as a resource for exegetical interpretations. This reliance shows that Radak viewed Rashi as an authoritative source for midrashic material and formulations. Furthermore, Radak's use of Rashi as a source reveals Rashi's influence on Radak's thought. It suggests that Radak learned the exegetical and pedagogical value of the quotation of rabbinic material from Rashi. Radak's dependence on Rashi can in turn be applied broadly to suggest that Radak did not check all original sources, but rather relied at times on his own memory in conjunction with Rashi's record of certain aggadic interpretations. Radak's quotation of midrashic material from Rashi demonstrates the extent of the availability of Rashi's commentaries on the Prophets and Hagiographa in Radak's environment. While Rashi's commentary on the Pentateuch was widely known, the commentaries on other biblical books were less popular. Specific instances of Radak's use of Rashi as a source for midrashic traditions are investigated and offered as evidence of heavier use by Radak of Rashi's commentaries than has previously been documented.

The Jewish Philosophy Reader (review)

Reviewed by: The Jewish Philosophy Reader Norman Solomon The Jewish Philosophy Reader, edited by Daniel H. Frank, Oliver Leaman and Charles H. Manekin. New York: Routledge, 2000. 618 pp. $100.00. This Reader is intended as a source book to accompany the History of Jewish Philosophy, edited by Frank and Leaman and published by Routledge in 1997. “Jewish philosophy,” in both of these works, is not “philosophy done by Jews,” nor some distinctive way of philosophizing, but rather, as they put it (p. xi), the “creative reworking of regnant philosophical categories, Platonic, Aristotelian, Kantian, Hegelian, existentialist, for purposes of explicating Judaism.” It would be interesting to know how, if at all, this activity is to be distinguished from “theology”; the problem is not addressed by the editors, though it shows up in Leo Strauss’s rather dated essay “The Mutual Influence of Theology and Philosophy,” reproduced as Chapter 32. It would also be instructive to learn why no one appears to have “creatively reworked” Judaism [End Page 162] in terms of the philosophy which has dominated British and many American universities since the days of logical positivism; there is certainly no shortage of practitioners such as Putnam and Kripke who cherish their Jewish identity. The volume covers fully two thousand years, from Philo to the present day, in a little over a hundred extracts. How can all this material be organized? The editors compromise between the thematic and chronological approaches. There are four main heads, though arguably five sections. The first head, “Foundations and First Principles,” falls into two parts. The first of these, “The Bible and Philosophical Exegesis,” is thematic. The problematic of each theme is presented through a biblical passage, and followed by later treatments of the theme; for instance, sections of Exodus in which the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart is described are followed by passages from Maimonides and David Shatz on freedom and responsibility. The second section of “Foundations and First Principles” is headed “Talmud, Mishnah and Midrash as Sources for Philosophical Reflection.” There are no key rabbinic citations in the manner of the biblical ones in the previous section, but simply a selection of medieval and modern writings in which authors utilize rabbinic material for their own agendas. The remaining three heads follow a chronological plan. Chapters 11–17 cover Medieval and Renaissance Jewish Philosophy; 18–22 constitute Modern Jewish Thought, which apparently came to an end round about 1900; 23–33 are Contemporary Jewish Philosophy, but not very contemporary, since the core material is Cohen, Buber, and Rosenzweig, with a dash of Kook, Baeck, and Soloveitchik; much of the best recent material is in fact to be found in the first part. The uneasy arrangement of material means that if you wish to follow a particular theme, or a particular author, you have to jump around the book. For instance, for Covenant you would have to read Hartman (Chapter 1); Novak (Chapter 8); Rosenzweig and Baeck (Chapter 29). For Evil and Suffering you might think you had a fair sample of Jewish views through the Job extracts and the five essays in Chapter 4; but no, Cohen, Kook, and Leibowitz have their say in Chapter 27, and there are still two Holocaust essays and an elegant if characteristically vague page of Levinas to contend with in Chapter 30. Maimonides is spread even more widely through Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 9, 10, and 14, with numerous further references throughout. But these are minor inconveniences, and with a little practice and the aid of the excellent indexes you can enjoy navigating the book to pursue your interest. Browsing your way through, as in a well-stocked supermarket, you will be rewarded by the discovery of unsuspected delights of Jewish thought. One of the strengths of the volume is the inclusion of extracts from works not easily accessible to the English reader, or not readily available in the average Jewish studies library; amongst those that caught my attention were the newly translated extract from the fifteenth-century Spanish philosopher Abraham Bibago’s “Way of Faith,” and the original English of Steven Schwartzschild’s provocative 1962 essay on Rationalism. [End Page 163] Should Spinoza be regarded as...

<strong>Kosher Adultery?</strong> The Mordecai-Esther-Ahasuerus Triangle in Midrash and Exegesis

T he Book of Esther presented a challenge for Jewish religious leaders in the Second Temple and Rabbinic periods. Its lack of religious sentiment, mention of religious practices, or any reference to God raised serious questions about its suitability for inclusion in the biblical canon.1 Indeed it has been suggested by some that its unreligious nature is the very reason why a copy of the book has never been found among the Dead Sea Scrolls at Qumran.2 In order to make the book more religiously acceptable, authors of various communities undertook to rewrite it, making appropriate additions which make explicit God's intervening hand in orchestrating the events of the story, and which present Mordecai and Esther as pious Jews who fast, pray, and observe the commandments. This tendency is especially prevalent in the Greek version of Esther, but is also manifest in various midrashic treatments of the story. Bearing in mind this tendency of the Sages to judaicize the Esther story, in this essay I would like to deal with one remarkable aspect of the rabbinic treatment of Esther's union with Ahasuerus, which I believe has not received the attention it deservesÐthe tradition that Esther was married to Mordecai before being taken to the king's palace and becoming queen. After analyzing the rabbinic material surrounding this tradition, we will see how it was treated in the Middle Ages and beyond, focussing especially on two very di2erent post-rabbinic treatmentsÐthose of Rashi, the famous eleventh-century exegete, and Solomon Halevi Alkabetz, the sixteenth-century Safed kabbalist. One of the most troubling issues for the Sages was the idea that Esther, presumably a nice Jewish girl, married a gentile and had sexual relations with him.3

Silence is Deadly: Judaism Confronts Wifebeating (review)

Silence is Deadly: Judaism Confronts Wifebeating, by Naomi GraetzNaomi Graetz has written fascinating, instructive, and important book which provides an exciting example of the application of rabbinic scholarship and of feminist analysis to the study of contemporary social problem in the Jewish community. In the process, she has developed methodology for approaching the multiplicity of voices found in rabbinic literature.Jews have wanted to believe that they constitute kinder and gentler people, often, as Nietzsche pointed out, confusing degraded circumstances for superiority while denying their own abusive and dysfunctional behavior. The fact remains that beyond the myths, Jewish leaders, especially rabbis, have continually concerned themselves with questions of their own authority and expressed willingness to enforce it with physical coercion, and have allowed members of the Jewish community to use similar means to impose their will upon others.Accordingly, Graetz locates violence at the core of Jewish values, starting with the Bible itself. Although there are no specific cases of wifebeating in the Bible, Graetz amply supports her assertion that the biblical family was a very tough neighborhood to grow up in, providing particularly compelling study of the violent metaphor against women found in the prophecy of Hosea.More than the writings of most professional halakhic scholars and other feminist writers, Graetz's book will serve to put many of the long-neglected classics of rabbinic scholarship on the agenda for popular discussion. It will also enrich feminist discourse by bridging the gap in discussions which often leap from the Bible to generalizations about the Talmud to modern women writers and activists.Graetz cites not only the major texts of rabbinic literature, such as Mishnah, Tosefta, Talmud, Geonim, Maimonides, and Shulhan Arukh, but also figures such as Meir of Rothenburg, Simhah of Speyer, Jonah of Gerona, Solomon Adret, David ibn Avi Zimra, Solomon Hakohen, Hayim Palaggi, Abraham Papema, Eliezer Papu, David Pipano, Eliezer Waldenberg, Moses Feinstein, and Ovadia Joseph, now daily proof that the realm of distinguished rabbinic scholarship is not cut off from partisan politics in the Jewish community.Experts, particularly those intent on maintaining the inaccessibility of the field of rabbinic studies and especially those who reject Graetz's conclusions concerning the potential for violence within the Jewish tradition, will direct themselves exclusively to slips in citation, translation, and interpretation. However, having examined every text that she mentioned, I find that when she errs, her reading usually minimizes the potential for violence against women.For example, an even stronger case for the impact of biblical metaphorical violence against women can be made by invoking Ezekiel 16, where God's behavior is described as jealous, violent, bloody rage against his metaphoric adulterous bride, the people of Israel. Also the image of the adulterous wife's nose being cut off in Ezekiel 23 remained feature of rabbinic halakhic discourse throughout the generations.Graetz brings abundant evidence to prove her point that rabbinic texts offered formative laws and principles in support of wife-beating, but there is much more available. For example, to strengthen the conclusions she reached concerning the citation from the Tosefta Baba Kama 9 could also be added Niddah 1:6. Here husband's beating his wife is casually mentioned as one of the reasons that woman could experience vaginal bleeding prior to onset of her menstrual period, along with being sick, jumping, or carrying heavy load, non-judgmental rabbinic recognition of the fact that wife-beating could be regular aspect of life for Jewish woman.In fact, in the chapter in which she offers the rabbinic materials opposed to wifebeating, on several occasions she reads materials against wife-beating which actually approve of it. …