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Sunday, 15 February 2026

542) Zoharic Kabbalah as mystical resistance to Christianity


 Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Hartley Lachter[1]examines how Medieval Kabbalists constructed a theology of resistance in response to negative Christian portrayals of (particularly) the male Jewish body, as flawed, inferior and weak. In response, the Kabbalists advanced a counter-narrative that framed Jewish bodies as sacred, resilient and transcendent of time. This Kabbalistic interpretation also allowed Jews to see themselves as instrumental in a redemptive history, turning accusations of faithlessness by rejecting Jesus into affirmations of faithfulness to divine mystery. They were no longer inferior, but through Kabbalah—indeed superior. 

Background

Early Jewish mystical and philosophical traditions developed in Islamic cultural settings, particularly in al-Andalus (in Muslim southern Spain) and other centres of Jewish life under Islamic rule. These traditions absorbed and reworked ideas from Aristotelian philosophy, Neoplatonism [Kotzk Blog: 527) Neoplatonic echoes in Chassidic Mysticism], and Sufi mysticism [Kotzk Blog: 151) ‘CHOVOT HALEVAVOT’ – A SUFI CONNECTION?], which were transmitted through Arabic texts and translations. 

Later Jewish mysticism, emerging around the time of the Zoharwhich first appeared around 1290developed in Christian Europe, particularly in Provence and northern Spain. Considering this predominantly Christian geography, it may be worthwhile to understand possible Christian influences, or more specifically, reactions to Christianity as found in Zoharic Kabbalah. In this sense, Zoharic Kabbalah should be read not only as a continuation of earlier Jewish mystical traditions but also as a response to Christian cultural pressuresparticularly persecutions. 

Christian portrayals of the male Jewish body

Medieval Christian discourse often constructed the male Jewish body as a site of difference, weakness, and even pathology, designed to reinforce Christian superiority and Jewish marginalisation. Christian theology frequently depicted Jewish males as plagued by bodily flaws and weakness. This was explained as a punishment for the sin of deicide (the killing of G-d). 

Some Christian sources feminised Jewish males and projected the notion of them suffering from monthly male menstruation. This was their punishment for shedding the blood of Jesus (Resnik 2012:185).[2] Christian polemics contrasted the virile, chaste “soldier of Christ” with the feminised or deviant Jewish male. Jewish males were also portrayed as morally corrupt. 

To deal with such negative and degrading imagery emerging from Christian polemics, Jewish mysticism developed a powerful counter-theology intended to reconstruct the image of the Jew, and particularly the Jewish male. Thirteenth and fourteenth century Zoharic Kabbalah exhibits redefining imagery of the Jewparticularly the persecuted and subaltern Jewish maleas powerful “inversions of Christian depictions of Jewish maleness” (Lachter 2018:123). 

This reconstruction of the Jewish male identity adds nuance to discussions of Judaism as a patriarchal society. While patriarchy certainly shaped Jewish social structures, Kabbalah introduced an additional layera mystical reassertion of the male image in response to external Christian polemics. The mystical response was a claim of “secret knowledge about the hidden power of Jewish male bodies” (Lachter 2018:123). 

In Christian ecclesiastical literature, Christian malesespecially in the clergywere depicted as elevated and “rarefied spiritual beings” (Lachter 2018:123). By contrast, Jewish males were frequently characterised as carnal and effeminate, while Christian art rendered them as grotesque figures. These characterisations circulated not only in Christian polemical works but also in medical treatises, which projected such perceived deficiencies onto Jewish bodies (Lachter 2018:124). 

“[Jews] do not make use of arms and also like women every month they suffer, and for this it is written, ‘The Lord struck them in [their] posteriors and gave them eternal opprobrium [disgrace-GM]’—which is to say God struck them in [their] shameful parts and gave them perpetual reproach—because since they killed their brother, the true Abel, Jesus Christ, they are made vagabond and broken throughout the lands like the cursed Cain, they have a trembling head, which is to say, a fearful heart, shaking night and day, and they do not believe at all in their own lives” (Jacques de Vitry, 13th century, La traduction de l’Historia Orientalis, chapter 81, 129). 

Many universities at that time emphasised physiognomy, and the Jewish (particularly male) ‘otherness’ became an important focus of study. 

Jewish women

Sara Lipton, in an aptly titled article, “Where are the Gothic Jewish women?” shows that Jews—and Jewish males in particular—were construed as “ugly.” This perception was rooted in the claim that their excessive preoccupation with the minutiae of religious law prevented them from apprehending the spiritual expansiveness of Christian thought as embodied in Jesus (Lipton 2008:151).[3] Notably, however, when Jewish women were depicted, they were not presented as being different from Christian women. 

Rabbinic reaction

Earlier Talmudic and Halachic sources did polemicise against Christianity, but usually in legal terms. They debated whether Christians were to be defined as idolaters and how they should be treated socially and economically within Jewish communities. 

Kabbalistic reaction

The Kabbalists went one step further, and rather than legally redefining the non-Jew, they reimagined, particularly the Jewish male, as the very embodiment of the Divine. The female, however, remained associated with impurity—a characterisation they continued to share with their Christian counterparts. With their focus on the male, the Kabbalists redirected the discourse from the earlier legal framework to a symbolic-mystical construction of Jewish identity, producing a counter-image and counter-theology in which only the circumcised Jewish male was representative of G-d. 

“For the kabbalists, the most sacred bodies are those of Jewish men that are endowed with a divine soul and that perform the mandates of Jewish law” (Lachter 2018:125). 

Appropriation of incarnation

This conceptualisation of the sacredness of the Jewish male body may also be understood as a “counter-theological appropriation of the Christian doctrine of incarnation” (Lachter 2018:126), insofar as, in a Kabbalistic sense, the Divine is incarnated into man. Crucially, however, it is the Jewish man—not Jesus—who embodies this incarnation. Through Kabbalah, Jewish male identity was reconfigured and no longer cast as the target of Christian persecution and defilement. It was elevated to become the locus of Divine embodiment. According to a thirteenth or fourteenth Kabbalistic text: 

“This is [a matter] from the great traditions of the Kabbalah. Know that man has been made in the image of the supernal sefirot. This is as scripture states, ‘let us make man in our image, according to our likeness,’ for there are supernal powers called ‘hand’ and ‘foot,’ ‘eye’ and ‘head’ as you will find in many places in scripture… And thus you will find that many kabbalists refer to the sefirot as the supernal man (‘adam ha-elyon), and when the lower man sanctifies his limbs and he does not stray after transgression, then his limbs are entwined with and connected to the limbs of the supernal man, and he himself is called holy . . . but if one . . . defiles his limbs, either all or some of them, it is as though he has caused a flaw in the supernal man” (Oxford Bodleian Opp. 487, 28v–29r; JTS 1896, 8b–9b). 

Today, the notion that human beings both reflect and influence the Divine is a wellestablished mystical concept, prominently expressed in later currents such as Chassidut, where the Sefirotic structure is understood to mirror the human form and inner life. Yet its origins, situated in the period of the Zohar’s emergenceamid intense anti-Jewish Christian polemicsprovide a striking theological and historical context for its development that is often overlooked in contemporary discussions. 

Mystical emphasis on anti-celibacy

Although the Torah in Genesis, as well as later rabbinic literature, discussed the importance of procreation, the Kabbalists placed particular weight on this theme, aligning it with their anti-Christian polemic against the celibacy promoted by the Church. Late thirteenth-century Spanish Kabbalistic writers like Yosef Hamadan emphasised the Talmudic notion of partnering with G-d in the act of creation, “There are three partners in a person: G-d, the father, and the mother” (b. Nidda 31a). Yosef Hamadan, however, elevated this notion of partnership above a legal requirement, polemicised it and transformed a Halachicethical idea into a mysticaltheological one. He reimagined the Jewish male not just as a partner but as the embodiment of divine creativity itself. He writes that the male becomes G-d’s “collaborator” who also “creates worlds” and “sustains the emanative chain (shalshelet)” (Meier 1974:256).[4] Through a process of theological inversion, this Kabbalistic narrative completely negated the Christian valorisation of celibacy, ascetic detachment from the material world, and monastic lifetransforming procreation into a sanctified site of power, holiness if not G-dly embodiment and incarnation. It also served to squarely confront Christian depictions of Jewish males as weak and effeminate, as well as respond to the Christian notion of G-d’s incarnation in just one man, Jesus. 

Yosef Hamadan is not regarded as one of the contributors to the Zohar itself, but he is generally situated within the broader circle of Zoharic Kabbalists, whose writings emerged in the same cultural and intellectual milieu as the Zohar and reflect similar mystical themes. 

Dietary Laws

Some Christian polemicists claimed that Jews kept their dietary laws reinforce their desire for carnality, appetiete and materialism. This kept them away from the purity, ascetic and spiritual focus offered by Christianity. The Kabbalists developed a counter-theology that the Jew’s involvement in the material realm offered unique opportunities to perfect and purify the cosmos. Jews can consume food and engage with materiality because the “fire” and “sanctity” within their souls have the power to burn away physical impurities and elevate them into the realm of spirituality and holiness. Once again, Yosef Hamadan writes in a style characteristic of Kabbalistic argumentation and logic: 

“Foreign peoples [i.e., non-Jews] have no sanctity in them whatsoever, and they have no flame in their souls that consumes the impurity; rather, they draw it to them selves, and thus they eat impure foods in order to draw the impurity to themselves… Happy are we and fortunate is our lot that God…desires us and gave us his Torah and granted us impurity and purity, for it is the perfection of the world. It is impossible to have one without the other. This is the secret of judgment and mercy, the good inclination and the evil inclination, and impurity truly is what purifies Israel” (Yosef Hamadan, in Meier, A Critical Edition of Sefer Ta’amey ha-Mitzvot, 149). 

Accordingly, Kabbalistic thought introduces a counternotion in which direct engagement with the material realm is not merely permitted but required, since only through such interaction can the physical be elevated and transformed into a lofty spiritual end. It should be noted once again that ideas like elevating the physical to spiritual ends existed earlier in Jewish tradition, but in the Zoharic period, it was intensified, systematised, and polemically sharpened as a response to Christian attacks. 

Weak Jews, strong souls

As noted, thirteenthcentury Christian polemicists portrayed Jewish males as effeminate and weak. The anonymous author of Midrash haNe’elam, one of the earliest works within the Zoharic corpus, develops a mystical counter-narrative. Non-Jews may indeed appear stronger than Jews. This is because their power derives from their bodies and not their souls. Jews are powerful in a spiritual sense because their power derives from their souls and the Divine realm. 

Jewish prayer is ineffective

Some thirteenth-century Christian polemicists claimed Jewish prayer was clearly ineffective because Jews were few in number, in exile and scattered like scavengers throughout the other nations of the world. Most importantly, they were still waiting for the Messiah, who had not yet arrived. Christian prayers, on the other hand, were effective because the Messiah had already come. 

Lachter explains that the accusation of ineffective prayer may have been the challenge that most unsettled the Kabbalists, more than any of the other polemical charges. Consequently, we find mystical writings from this period that emphasise the power and efficacy of Jewish prayer, presenting it as a force capable of sustaining Divine Presence and cosmic order and not just about political or messianic agency. Prayer now became the proclivity of Jewish men who were portrayed to have a direct impact on “the divine realm, uniting the sefirot and drawing divine overflow into the world” (Lachter 2018:130). 

Dying for your religion

Going one step further, the Zohar describes Jewish prayer as so holy that the worshiper actually [Mammesh] “dies” after each prayer service, having sustained the universe through their devotion: 

“Once a man performs his worship in the proper manner, in both performance and utterance, and he binds the bond of unification, it is by his actions that the upper and lower entities are blessed. Thus, a man must regard himself after he completes the Amidah prayer as though he has died…and he gathers his legs into the tree of death… And thus, he gives himself over to death, truly [mammash]… like one who has truly departed from the world” (Zohar 3:120b–121a). 

Christians claimed that Jesus died for the sins of humanity and was subsequently resurrected. In contrast, the Zohar offers a mystical counternarrative in which every Jewish male worshiper undergoes a death three times daily and is continually resurrected to reenter the cycle of prayer. 

Depiction of R. Shimon bar Yochai’s death and marriage to the Shechina

In the section of the Zohar known as the Idra Zuta, a dramatic scene unfolds in which R. Shimon is said to have revealed esoteric secrets of the Divine anatomy and the sexual union between the male and female aspects of the Godhead. The passage then “culminates in the ecstatic death of R. Shimon and his union with—literally marriage to—the Shekhinah” (Lachter 2018:131). R. Shimon is presented as describing and being in control of his own death. He speaks of a “crown” for his head: 

“Now I testify that all the days I have existed, I yearned to see this day [of my death- GM], though my desire was not attained. For with this crown, this day [of my death] is adorned…for all of them crown my head…for the whole day [of my death] is in my control” (Zohar 3:291b). 

Thus, unlike Jesus, who died at the hands of others and against his will, R. Shimon is in control of his own death. R. Shimon teaches that the unification of male and female aspects of the Divine are mirrored in the union between male and female on earth, again countering the Christian notion of celibacy, which only results in half a body: 

“Here, too, when the male joins with the female, all is one body; and all worlds are joyful, for they are blessed by a complete body” (Zohar 3:296a). 

Thus, this Zoharic depiction appears to be an inversion of the Christian story of the death of Jesus as well as an inversion of notions of sexual sanctity. It depicts inverted imagery similar to the Christian story: 

“Rather than wear a thorny crown, he [R. Shimon bar Yochai] adorns himself with a crown of words woven from his own revelation of divine mysteries. And in place of a celibate Christ, the Zoharic text underscores the notion that only married men like R. Shimon truly reflect the image of God” (Lachter 2018:132). 

Inversion of Eucharistic theology

R. Abba is then said to have entered the house where R. Shimon had passed away, following a fiery manifestation that broke out as R. Shimon delivered his final teaching. He finds R. Shimon lying on his right side, smiling. R. Abba is recorded as saying, “As for me, I licked the dust beneath his feet.” R. Shimon’s son, R. Elazar, took his father’s hands and kissed them. The other companions eventually cried. Then: 

“Rabbi Elazar his son flung himself down three times but could not open his mouth. Finally he opened, saying, ‘Father, Father! Three there were; into one they have turned… and the companions are all drinking blood” (Zohar 3:296b). 

These are images that closely parallel those found in Christian discourse about the Trinity and the death of Jesus. The “licking the dust from beneath his feet” and the companions “drinking blood” resonate with the Christian practice of the Eucharist established in 1215 (the Zohar came out just decades later in 1290), in which the body and blood of Jesus are miraculously “transubstantiated” into the communion wafer and wine and then consumed. But instead of a suffering Jesus, the Jewish hero of R. Shimon bar Yochai emerges smiling and superior (Lachter 2018:132). 

Shem Tov Ibn Shem Tov on persecution and reincarnation

Shem Tov Ibn Shem Tov, a late fourteenth-century Kabbalist, continued along similar lines. He lived at a time when the massacres against the Jews in 1391 had killed off a third of the Jewish population, and there were many forced conversions to Christianity. To dispel Christian accusations of the wretchedness of the Jews, he promoted the idea of Gilgul (Reincarnation). Thus, the Jews have not been abandoned but have been reincarnated since the earliest of times, and this is a necessary process that has to be completed to bring about the arrival of the true Messiah: 

“Each experience of violence, expulsion, and oppression serves to purge the collective Jewish community of souls of their impurities and transgressions” (Lachter 2018:136). 

This way, Ibn Shem Tov continues the polemic. Using Jewish mysticism, he dispels the negative claims of those Christians who used the tribulations of Jewish history to denigrate the role of Jews in history. He explains through Gilgul, that not only despite the upheavals of Jewish history, but because of them, Jews had a future role of cosmic and messianic significance. Despite depictions of an inferior, flawed and persecuted Jewish body, even that body can traverse time and effect cosmic repair. 

Conclusion

The thirteenth and fourteenth-century Kabbalists had a lived experience ofand responded toChristian polemics not merely with refutation but with profound theological creativity. By appropriating and inverting Christian claims—about efficacy of Jewish prayer, masculinity, materialism, incarnation, redemption and even Jesus’ death—they constructed a mystical framework in which negative Jewish experiences and vulnerability became the very means of cosmic repair. Where Christianity exalted the singular, universal and redemptive role of Jesus, Kabbalah responded and elevated the collective of ordinary Jewish men as indispensable agents of divine restoration, crucial to sustaining the universe. 

Analysis

This study has sought to illustrate how mystical theology can serve as a vehicle for cultural and political resilience. At the same time, it raises the possibility that certain Kabbalistic notions—later celebrated as timeless revelations—may have been shaped, at least in part, by the polemical pressures of their historical moment. 

In this light—perhaps ironically—Christian polemics may have provided not only a context but even an impetus for the articulation of ideas that were later reinterpreted, in unrelated settings, as enduring mystical truths.



[1] Lachter, H., 2018, Jewish Bodies in Divine Form: Jewish Difference and Historical Consciousness in Medieval Kabbalah, Journal of Jewish Identities, vol. 11 no. 1, 123-142.

[2] Resnik, I. M., 2012, Marks of Distinction: Christian Perceptions of Jews in the High Middle Ages Catholic University of America Press, Washington DC, 185.

[3] Lipton, S., 2008, “Where are the Gothic Jewish Women? On the Non-Iconography of the Jewess in the Cantigas de Santa Maria,” Jewish History, vol.22, 151.

[4] Menahem Meier, ed., ‘A Critical Edition of Sefer Ta’amey ha-Mitzvot’, by Joseph of Hamadan (PhD diss., Brandeis University, 1974).


I thank Dr Avi Harel for these sources:

אידל, משה, "תוספות להערות בשולי הוויכוח היהודי נוצרי בימי הביניים: עוד על מידת החסד", מתוך: מרומי ירושלים 4 (ירושלים: המכון למדעי היהדות ע"ש מנדל, 1985), עמ' 22–219.

דן, יוסף, על גרשם שלום: תריסר מאמרים (ירושלים: מרכז זלמן שזר לחקר תולדות העם היהודי, 2010).
דן, יוסף, "תורת הקבלה של יוהנס רויכלין ומשמעותה ההיסטורית", מתוך: מרומי ירושלים 14 (ירושלים: המכון למדעי היהדות ע"ש מנדל, 1998), עמ' 455–485.
הערך "קבלה נוצרית", האנציקלופדיה העברית, כרך כט, עמ' 130–132, מהדורת 1980.
וירשובסקי, חיים, מקובל נוצרי קורא בתורה (ירושלים: מוסד ביאליק, 1977).
וירשובסקי, חיים, שלושה פרקים בתולדות הקבלה הנוצרית (ירושלים: מוסד ביאליק, 1985).
לימור, אורה ורז-קרקוצקין, אמנון, בין נוצרים ליהודים (תל אביב: בית ההוצאה לאור של האוניברסיטה הפתוחה, 1997).
וייס, יהודית, משיח נוצרי-קבלי ברנסאנס: גיום פוסטל וספר הזוהר (תל אביב: הקיבוץ המאוחד,2016)


Sunday, 8 February 2026

541) Romancing the Manuscript: The politics of knowledge in Chatam Sofer’s rejection of print.

Manuscript fragment of Toledot Yeshu
Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Maoz Kahana[1]—examines R. Moshe Schreiber (known as Chatam Sofer, 1762-1839) and his ambivalent stance toward the well-established print culture of Jewish books, which had flourished since its beginnings three centuries earlier in 1475. In place of embracing print as the dominant medium, he issued a striking call for a return to manuscripts. Chatam Sofer is a major rabbinic figure who “carries the aura of a founding figure in the sociological fabric of modern Judaism” (Kahana 2025:300). 

By privileging manuscripts, Chatam Sofer reinforced rabbinic control over textual transmission, resisting the democratisation of knowledge that print enabled. As opposed to mechanical printing, manuscripts circulated in smaller, more controlled circles, limiting exposure to the unorthodox ideas that sometimes sprouted from the Enlightenment movement (Haskalah), whichsignificantlyused print aggressively to promote its agenda. 

Sunday, 1 February 2026

540) Theo-politics of early rabbinic printing and the race for first publication


Levush haOrah by R. Mordechai Jaffe first published in 1603

Introduction

This articledrawing extensively on the research of Professor Eric Laweeexamines the publication of rabbinic texts during the Late Medieval and Early Modern Periods,[1] in the aftermath of the invention of the printing press around 1450. It focuses on the printing struggles of R. Mordechai Jaffe (c.1530–1612)—also known as the Levush, or Baal haLevushim—and especially on the personal reflections contained in the epilogue to his Levush haOra. 

The first Hebrew books were printed in Rome around 1470. Rabbinic books (sefarim) were not always selfless, intellectual and spiritual contributions for the edification of the People of Israel. The reality of rabbinic publishing was far more complicated. Publishing was not just about scholarship, but also about authority, the tension between tradition and innovation, and the practical challenges of getting a manuscript into print. It was about survival in a crowded marketplace of ideas, where every published gloss and commentary bore the promise of Chashivutlegitimacy, influence, power and authorityfor its author. But behind the finished published product sometimes lay a hidden world of rivalry, negotiation, polemics and politics. 

Sunday, 25 January 2026

539) The new Rebbe of Thieves

Resisei Laila given to me by R. Shlomo Carlebach

Introduction

I recently experienced a brief lapse back into my earlier self, when I was totally captivated by the romance of Chassidism, which included a diversion into the magnetism of R. Shlomo Carlebach, his music and teachings. I once asked R. Shlomo what I needed to do to become his Chassid. He smiled and said (typically), “But I want to be a Chassid of you!” I replied, “No, seriously...” He then told me to go to the Mikveh just before Shabbos and to read Resisei Leilah by R. Zadok haCohen. I went to the Mikveh, but I could never find a copy of Resisei Leilah. Years later, someone unexpectedly gave me a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. When I opened it, it was the well-used personal copy of Resisei Leilah that R. Shlomo carried around with him. Apparently, he met someone at the airport, heard they were going to South Africa and gave them his book to give to me. I was overwhelmed and felt like I was living in one of the Chassidic stories he used to tell. Years have passed, times have changed, and my interests and pursuits have moved on, but that little worn blue book remains one of my prized possessions. 

Sunday, 18 January 2026

538) Rules for writing a Sefer Torah: Rabbinic innovation or reflection of an existing scribal tradition?

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Emanuel Tov, former Editor-in-Chief of the Dead Sea Scrolls Publication Project[1]—examines the rabbinic rules for writing a Sefer Torah. These laws are among the most detailed and revered in rabbinic literature. Every letter, margin, and column is prescribed with precision, creating the impression of a system wholly devised by the rabbis to safeguard the sanctity of the text. Yet the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls has complicated this picture. As Emanuel Tov has shown, many of these rabbinic instructions echo standard and common practices already in use among scribes in the Judean Desert centuries earlier. Thus, what previously may have seemed like a unique rabbinic innovation in scribal law now appears, at least in part, to be the codification of an existing scribal traditionif not a form of acculturation.[2] 

Sunday, 4 January 2026

537) When Did We All Start Ignoring the "Sealing of the Talmud"?


This post, by Boruch Clinton, originally appeared on the B'chol D'rachecha site.

It’s popularly understood that the completion of the Talmud around 1,500 years ago marked a critical transition in halachic history. From that point on, halachic conclusions found in the Talmud were binding on all Jews everywhere and for all time.

Sunday, 28 December 2025

536) ‘Halachic Fiction’ and ex post facto justification in the modern Halachic process

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Marc Shapiro examines the term ‘Halachic fiction.’ It is used to describe legal constructs in Halacha (Jewish law) that are not literally true, but serve as mechanisms to reconcile the demands of Halacha with the realities of lived experience. In other words, there is a category of Halacha—popular during the post Shulchan Aruch period (from the sixteenth century to this day)—where the “community’s ritual instinct” (Halbertal 2002:166, citing Jacob Katz), as well as custom, determine the law, sometimes to a greater extent than the rabbis.   

Sunday, 21 December 2025

535) Suspending Judaism between depth and accessibility: Maimonides and Yeshaya of Trani

Piskei haRid and Piskei haRiaz. Rid (grandfather) and Riaz (grandson) published together in one volume, although their worldviews were very different.

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Marc Shapiro[1]—asks whether the Italian commentator and Talmudist, R. Yeshaya di Trani (known as Riaz) had a larger influence on future Judaism than Maimonides. Riaz was one of the rabbis who vigorously opposed Maimonides during the Maimonidean Controversies that consumed the rabbinic world in the centuries after Maimonides’ passing in 1204. It seems that the rabbis were not ready for the radical expansiveness of Maimonidean thought, and under the leadership of Riaz—the great antiMaimonidean polemicist—refused to allow Judaism to be subjected to philosophical creed or inquiry. Maimonides’ towering philosophical system threatened to redefine Judaism as a religion of creed and rational inquiry. Not all rabbis were prepared to accept this radical shift, and Riaz emerged as one of the most forceful voices of resistance, rejecting the binding nature of Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles of Faith as well as his rationalism. Instead, he argued for a simpler, unsophisticated and non-dogmatic faith based solely on Halachic observance. 

Sunday, 14 December 2025

534) Between Law and Magic: The Mezuzah as a test case in shifting cosmologies


Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Oded Yisraeli—examines references to the mezuzah from both before and after the emergence of the Zohar in the late thirteenth century, in order to trace shifting cosmologies. To map these changing approaches, we shall examine successive periods of Jewish literature from the third century to our times, each marked by distinct emphases and developments in the evolving mystical cosmology of the mezuzah. 

Sunday, 7 December 2025

533) The Seven Laws of Noah: Then and now

 

Jan Jansson's Duo Tituli Thalmudici Sanhedrin et Maccoth (Amsterdam, 1629)

Introduction

This articlebased extensively on the research by Yaacov Amar Rothsteinidentifies two distinct layers in the development of the Seven Laws of Noah, comprising an early rabbinic conception, and a later reinterpretation. In the Talmud and classical rabbinic sources, the Sheva Mitzvot Bnei Noach were not envisioned as a comprehensive universal religion for non‑Jews, but rather as a minimal legal frameworka baseline of obligations incumbent upon humanity with clear consequences for their violation. The difference between these two layers of perception is immense. The modern idea of a Noahide religion, presented as the original biblical faith intended for all non‑Jews, does not originate in rabbinic tradition. Surprisingly, it first emerged within Medieval Christian polemics and Early Modern[1] European thought. It was only as recently as about one hundred and fifty years ago that this universalist reading was taken up within Jewish discourse, most notably by R. Elia Benamozegh (d.1900), and later expanded upon by contemporary figures such as the Lubavitcher Rebbe and R. Adin Steinsaltz. [See: Kotzk Blog: 523) Radical rabbinic models of universalism and Kotzk Blog: 522) Italian letters: The battle over the Zohar]. 

Sunday, 30 November 2025

532) Dialogues of vision: How we view Maimonides and how he might view us (Part II)

 

Secrets of the Guide by Dr Micha Goodman

How Maimonides might view us

Introduction

Part I examined the reception of Maimonidean thought in rabbinic Judaism. Part II now turns the focus on its head and examines, theoretically, how Maimonides might view contemporary Judaism as we know it. 

We begin with an overview of the essence of Moreh Nevuchim (Guide for the Perplexed) in an attempt to understand what it means by ‘secrets.’ 

‘Secrets’

There are two bodies of knowledge that Maimonides describes as Maaseh Bereishit and Maaseh Merkavah, which together form the Pardes (Orchard of esoteric wisdom) into which the four sages entered (b. Chagiga 14b). This knowledge (yeda), he maintains, once existed among the prophets and sages until a tragedy occurred, and that knowledge was lost. Maimonides understands a real prophet asnot someone who experiences visionsbut rather as a composite of perfected intellect, ethics and ability to imagine (Goodman 2015:39). Maimonides believed that the greatest loss to Judaism was not the destruction of the Temple or its rituals, but the loss of knowledge. Maimonides (Introduction to Moreh Nevuchim, section 3) writes that he managed to re-establish the hidden secret that our Masoret (Tradition) had lost. He did this, not through revelation or prophecy but through the capacity of the mind. 

Sunday, 23 November 2025

531) Dialogues of Vision: How we view Maimonides and how he might view us (Part I)

R. Yihye Kafich (1850-1931), leader of the rationalist Yemenite group Dardaim.

Introduction

This two-part series series—based extensively on the research by Professor Marc B. Shapiro and Dr Micha Goodman—engages in a dialogue of vision: Part I examines how we view Maimonides and the reception of Maimonidean thought in rabbinic Judaism, particularly over the past two and a half centuries. Although arguably the greatest Jewish thinker, the rabbinic world has always had an ambivalent relationship with Maimonides, beginning with centuries of opposition—known as the Maimonidean Controversies—to a partial acceptance of selected writings of Maimonides only in relatively recent times. Part II turns the focus on its head and examines, theoretically, how Maimonides might view contemporary Judaism as we know it. 

How we view Maimonides

Enlightenment

Shapiro(2023:168) explains that over the last two and a half centuries, rabbinic interest has been resurgent in Maimonides, ironically as a result of the rise of the Enlightenment movement in late eighteenth-century Germany. Faced with increasing engagement with Maimonides’ philosophical writings by the maskilim (secular members of the Enlightenment), the rabbis formulated different responses to a renewed problem that—although always there—had lain dormant for so long.