514) Kabbalah: From Obscurity to the Defining Essence of Judaism

First printing of the Zohar, Cremona 1558.

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor David Malkiel[1]—explores the thirteenth-century rise of Kabbalah in Spain and its subsequent peaking in sixteenth-century Safed. Since the Safed period, Kabbalah has come to be widely regarded as embodying the very essence and greatest depths of Judaism in the popular imagination. How did this transformation take place? Some would suggest that this is a natural progression towards messianic times. But any study of Jewish messianism shows that we have always believed we've been living in imminent messianic times. There may be additional ways of tracking the development of Kabbalah.

Malkiel introduces an unusual history of the rise of Kabbalah from a cultural perspective connecting it to the Rennaissance and the emerging preoccupation with ‘realism,’ which (ironically for a study on mysticism) avoids fantasy and idealism in favour of concrete reality. 

509) When authority becomes the determinator of reason, meaning and truth

An early manuscript of Meirat Einayim by the 14th century R. Yitzchak of Acre

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Eitan Fishbane[1]—examines the rabbinic notion of the authenticity of a teaching or text being reliant on the perceived authority of its transmitter or originator. In other words, the greater the rabbi the more authentic the teaching, regardless of the intrinsic value, nature and validity of the actual teaching itself. 

As a test case, we analyse the writings of a fourteenth-century Kabbalist, R. Yitzchak ben Shmuel of Acre in his Meirat Einayim which is a supercommentary (i.e., a commentary on a commentary) on Nachmanides’ Commentary on the Torah. Interestingly, R. Yitzchak of Acre—who lived at the same time as R. Moshe de Leon who had claimed to have discovered the ancient Zohar—questioned the attribution of the Zohar to the second-century Tanna, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, who lived a thousand years earlier.[2] 

496) Kabbalah: To print or not to print the ‘lost’ mystical tradition

 

The first printed edition, the "editio princeps", of the Zohar published in Mantua, Italy in 1558.

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Avraham Oriah Kelman[1] ꟷ examines the little-known crisis in Kabbalistic transmission that became evident between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries. 

The earlier Sefaradic Kabbalistic tradition, which had peaked in Spain in the thirteenth century (with the Zohar first published around 1290) had now spread to central Europe. The expulsion from Spain in 1492 can be seen as precipitating this spread of Kabbalistic influence to Europe. This was coupled with the simultaneous spread of Kabbalah from the various mystical schools of Safed, including Lurianic Kabbalah from the Ari Zal (1534-1572). By the sixteenth century, Central European Ashkenazi Jewry was well-exposed to, and keenly influenced by, Kabbalah from both its eastern and western co-religionists. But Kabbalah, although now widely disseminated and popularised, was in an internal state of crisis. This created a tension between the leadership of the mystical movement and those who were publishing mystical works, and it is to that tension and theological strain that we shall now turn. 

488) Gershom Scholem’s messianic claim

 

Introduction

This article – based extensively on the research by Professor Boaz Huss[1] and Professor Michael Brenner[2] − explores aspects of the life story and personal thought of Gershom (Gerhard) Scholem (1897-1982), the first researcher and professor of Jewish mysticism. 

Meeting with the kabbalists of Jerusalem

In 1915, while still in Berlin, a young Scholem had already met and become friends with Walter Benjamin. Benjamin was later to kill himself by an overdose of morphine tablets in 1940 rather than surrender to the Nazis. Scholem dedicated his famous work, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism, to his friend Walter Benjamin. 

456) The power (and strategy) of maintaining secret religious knowledge

 

Introduction

Over and above the traditional, theological and Halachic considerations of Judaism, one cannot help but notice an apparent increase in the use of the word ‘power’ that gets appendaged to almost every contemporary religious discourse. If a certain day falls close to Shabbat, for example, there is an extra power to that day. Tzedaka is no longer a mitzva or chiyuv or an important social responsibility, but a means of attaining power. This strategy is often employed by fundraisers. Local Challa Bakes and Amen Parties become powerful antidotes capable of negating crises on an international, universal and cosmic scale. Powerful days, events, times and prayers have taken the place of holy, Halachic and auspicious times and practices. 

455) The three-pronged mystical revolution of the 16th century

 

Seventeenth century manuscript of Eitz Chaim by R. Chaim Vital

Introduction

This article – based extensively on the research by Professor Rachel Elior[1] and Professor Zvi Werblowsky^[2] − examines the three-pronged mystical revolution of the sixteenth century that changed the face of much of subsequent Judaism. 

In general terms, it is true that despite the calamitous events of the fifteenth century which saw the expulsion of Jews from Spain in 1492: 

“[t]he majority of exiles rehabilitated themselves by pursuing a normal life, conducted according to usual mundane considerations” (Elior 2000:187). 

On the other hand, a smaller but very influential number of Jewish mystics saw the world of the sixteenth century as anything but normative. They turned to Kabbalah and mysticism as the only way to explain the trauma of the expulsion. They believed and taught that the world was on the cusp of an imminent messianic redemption. Instead of engaging with the normative world like the majority of their co-religionists which included scholars and rabbis, they sought to detach themselves from reality as they experienced what they believed were the messianic birthpangs. These circles of mystics were known as Mechashvei Kitzim (Calculators of the End). 

448) R. Yosef Karo’s unusual mystical entries in his diary

1773 edition of Magid Meisharim by  R. Yosef Karo

Introduction

R. Yosef Karo (1488-1575) is well recognised as the great codifier of Jewish law who was responsible for the Shulchan Aruch. Many are familiar with the logical and methodical nature of this legal code. For practical purposes, today, he is widely regarded as the last of the great codifiers if not the codifier par excellence. 

However, not many are aware of an extremely mystical component of his makeup. This extreme mysticism may seem rather surprising for someone so steeped in the pragmatism of legal codes. He kept a diary in which he recorded some of the mystical teachings he had acquired from an apparent spiritual or angelic being, known as a Magid (who identified as the ‘soul’ of the Mishna). These were later published in book form under the title Magid Meisharim. 

443) Mystical approaches of the early Chassidic movement

 

1772 was a year in which many bans against the Chassidim were issued. This one is from the Vilna Gaon in Vilna. Our article deals with the 1772 Brody bans.

Introduction

The early Chassidic courts are often presented as inspiring centres of fellowship, prayer, dancing and learning. This article – based extensively on the research by Dr. Mor Altshuler[1] – explores some of the more ‘cosmic’ elements and inner mystical dynamics of the Chassidic court of R. Yechiel Michal, the Magid of Zlotchov (1726-1786), a major early leader of the movement [see previous post]. 

432) How three Jewish scholars may have been motivated by personal bias.

 

Gershom Scholem studying the Zohar in his Sukka in 1925

Introduction

This article, based extensively on the research by Professor Michael Brenner,[1] shows how three Jewish scholars, Heinrich Graetz (1817-1891), Moriz Friedländer (1844-1919) and Gershom Scholem (1897-1982) developed three different approaches to the emergence of Gnosticism (an early form of mysticism). Brenner shows, however, that each may have been motivated to some degree by personal bias. 

430) Did Yehuda Halevi contribute to the theurgy of Kabbalah?

Sefer haKuzari with the Kol Yehuda commentary by R. Yehuda Moscato. 

Introduction

This article, based extensively on the research by Dr Avishai Bar-Asher,[1] examines how R. Yehuda Halevi (1075-c.1141) − the great Spanish physician, poet, philosopher and author of the Kuzari  − may not only have contributed to medieval Kabbalah but may have introduced parts of its theurgical elements. 

[Note: Theurgy is almost a magical approach to mysticism, where, by doing certain actions and rituals, or by reciting certain formulas, one can influence the Divine Being. This is as opposed to Theosophy, which is more of a theoretical study of mystical concepts without necessarily trying to influence the cosmos.] 

419) Priestly politics, Calendar wars and early Jewish mysticism

 

The Dead Sea Scrolls from around the 3rd century BCE to the 1st century CE

Introduction

The Hebrew Calendar that we use today has undergone some dramatic transformation over time. What is most interesting is it seems that control over the calendars was often directly related to control over mysticism. In this article, based extensively on the research by Professor Rachel Lior,[1] we examine some of the fascinating developments of the Hebrew Calendar. Much of this information has only come to light in relatively recent times. It must be emphasised that these are Elior's views and not everyone necessarily agrees with the position she takes. Nonetheless, her observations are of great interest.

373) Kabbalah – a product of the East or West?

 

Jews and Sufis shared music traditions

Introduction

Kabbalah, until just a few decades ago, was generally understood in as originating within a Eurocentric context. It was believed to have emerged essentially from centres like Italy, Provence (southern France), Germany and Spain. In scholarly circles, this was the result particularly of the work by Gershom Scholem,[1] who was convinced of Gnostic origins to Kabbalah: He writes that it is:

“surprising that the [Kabbalistic][2] doctrine…was deeply related to Gnosticism, but such are the dialectics of history” (Scholem 1941:286).

349) WHY BLOW 100 SHOFAR SOUNDS ON ROSH HASHANAH?

A GUEST POST BY RABBI BARUCH CLINTON:

Here's another example of the innovation-heavy Tzfas mindset at work in modern Jewish life.

The way most communities perform the mitzva of shofar on Rosh Hashana is an excellent example of the spread of the Tzfas ideology and mindset. Here, based on Shulchan Aruch Orech Chaim 590:1, is what the Torah requires:

כמה תקיעות חייב אדם לשמוע בר"ה, תשע; לפי שנאמר: תרועה ביובל ובר"ה ג' פעמים, וכל תרועה פשוטה לפניה ופשוטה לאחריה, ומפי השמועה למדו שכל תרועות של חדש השביעי אחד הן, בין בר"ה בין ביוה"כ של יובל, תשע תקיעות תוקעין בכל אחד משניהם: תר"ת, תר"ת, תר"ת

How many tekiyos must a man hear on Rosh Hashana? Nine, for it mentions the word “terua" three times (in the passages concerning) Yovel and Rosh Hashana, and each terua must have a simple sound (i.e., tekiya) both before and after it. And from tradition we learn that all teruos during the seventh month (i.e., Tishrei) are the same…tekiya-terua-tekiya; tekiya-terua-tekiya; tekiya-terua-tekiya.

305) THE EARLIEST VIEWS ON THE ORIGINS OF KABBALAH:

 

First edition of R. Menachem Recanati's commentary on the Torah (Venice, 1523)

INTRODUCTION:

We have previously looked at the origins of the Zohar, one of (modern[1]) Kabbalah’s foundational works, which first emerged around 1290.  The traditional view is that it was authored by R. Shimon bar Yochai, a second-century Tannaic sage; whereas historical evidence, as well as some rabbinic sources, point to its author being R. Moshe de León (1240-1305). The latter claimed to have found the writings of R. Shimon bar Yochai from a thousand years earlier and simply published[2] them in the Zohar. Either way, the Zohar only surfaced at around 1290.

This article, based extensively on the research of Professor Oded Yisraeli^[3] explores how three of the earliest mystics explained the origins of the Kabbalah in general.

Yisraeli takes an interesting tack because instead of relying on later scholarship, he focuses on early contemporaneous mystical sources which attempt to explain the origins of Kabbalah to other mystics. His research led him to uncover three primary yet divergent views on when and where Kabbalah originated.

276) MAGICAL PAPYRI TEXTS AND EARLY JEWISH MYSTICISM:

A Greek magical papyrus text.

- A SHARED MAGICAL TRADITION -

INTRODUCTION:

In this article, we will explore some ancient non-Jewish (pagan) papyrus magical texts which are, surprisingly, interwoven with early rabbinical magic themes. We will see how some obscure magical spells in these pagan papyri texts – ironically – can only be understood through a knowledge of corresponding themes in early Jewish mystical[1] literature.

I have drawn from Rabbi Professor Daniel Sperber[2] who is a Talmud professor at Bar Ilan University, who gives us a window into the 3^rd-century world of Jewish mysticism.

PAGAN INFLUENCE ON EARLY JEWISH MYSTICAL LITERATURE:

A number of Greek, Coptic and Gnostic papyrus texts dealing with magical charms and incantations have been discovered. The interesting thing about this discovery is that Jewish names and rabbinic themes were interwoven with pagan names and themes - as if a common magical culture existed.

Sperber writes:

“One of the outstanding features of this material is the welter of Jewish and pagan names which are used almost interchangeably, indicating the degree to which Jews and pagans were profoundly influencing one another...

[Furthermore] elements of Hellenistic magical lore penetrated the Jewish world, leaving their traces in Rabbinic literature, most especially in the early Jewish mystical literature.”

This interwovenness, according to Sperber, is so profound that clearer pagan texts can sometimes explain difficult and unclear rabbinic mystical texts – as can these rabbinic texts elaborate on obscure pagan texts. This leads one to the conclusion that Jews and non-Jews shared the same cultural magic and mystical tradition. 

Not only did they apparently share mystical traditions but Sperber even maintains he may have uncovered some 'lost' rabbinic writings scattered within these pagan texts! We will analyse two such examples in Part 1 and 2 which follow.

PART 1:

INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN RABBINIC TEXTS AND POPULAR MAGICAL TEXTS:

Here is one example of how an existing rabbinic text can shed light on one of these difficult popular magical texts dealing with various spells. In the collection of papyri housed in the Paris Library[3] there is a spell which reads:

“For I adjure thee by him that revealed the hundred and forty tongues and divided them by his command.”

Secular scholars were at a loss to explain this text. 

They assumed it referred to 140 languages which were somehow divided by G-d’s command. They assumed, based on a reading of Genesis Ch. 10, that after the flood, the generation of Noah’s descendants numbered seventy and spoke seventy languages becoming the 'Seventy Nations of the World'. But why not just say 70 instead of 140 being divided by 2?

Fascinatingly, there is a rabbinic text which can explain this obscure papyrus text. A rabbinic textual tradition in the Sifre[4], dating back to the second century CE, maintains that there were 140 nations of the world (not 70 as commonly understood)!

This Sifre is later discussed in Shir haShirim Rabba[5]:

“Seventy of them [i.e., the nations of the world] know their paternal ancestry but not their maternal ancestry, and seventy of them know their maternal ancestry but not their paternal ancestry...”

This is why 140 is divided by 2 to make 70. Evidently, the Shir haShirim Rabba text is an attempt at reconciling the common understanding that there are 70 nations of the world with the earlier Sifre claiming that there are 140.

A LOST RABBINIC TEXT?

Sperber suggests that this Paris text may, in fact, be a lost rabbinic text:

“It would appear that our passage from the Paris papyrus is based upon a (lost) homily which similarly grappled with the apparent contradiction between the two sets of numbers.”

Amazingly, this papyrus text seems to be dealing with exactly the same problem as, and presents the same solution to, that expressed in the Shir haShirim Rabba.

If this text is indeed a lost piece of rabbinic magical tradition, it is interesting that it comfortably formed part of the general pagan magical literature. This shows just how interconnected some of these early Jewish and non-Jewish magical texts were. There does appear to have been a common mystical tradition or certainly one which overlapped in multiple areas.

PART 2:

ANOTHER LOST MIDRASH?

Following similar patterns, Sperber continues with the suggestion that we can trace another lost rabbinic statement, in another spell mentioned in the Paris texts.

THE ‘SEAL’ ON THE TONGUE:

The same section of our magical papyrus text contains the following spell which also confounded the scholars:

“For I adjure thee by the seal which Solomon laid upon the tongue of Jeremiah and he spake.”

One scholar, Adolf Deissmann (d. 1937), a German Protestant theologian who specialized in the ancient Greek language writes:

“I do not know what this refers to. The tradition is probably connected with the LXX Jer. 1:6-10."[6]

[The LXX is a reference to the Septuagint, which means ‘seventy’ or in Roman numerals LXX, after the 70 (or 72) scholars who translated the Torah into Greek.]

Sperber explains that it does indeed correspond to a reference in the Book of Jeremiah (although not to the Septuagint version[7]). The reference is to the prophet Jeremiah’s inauguration into the world of prophecy, where a ‘seal’ of some sort was placed on his tongue.

According to rabbinic tradition, this ‘seal’ or 'signet ring' alludes to the renowned ‘seal of Solomon’[9] which is alleged to have had the power to produce prophetic oracles.

Sperber writes:

“If our reconstruction be correct, we have here the traces of a lost Midrash...”

Sperber, interestingly, goes on to suggest that while the verse in Jeremiah 1:9 actually states:

"Then the Lord put forth his hand and touched my [i.e., Jeremiah’s] mouth."

However, there were rabbis who were uncomfortable with the anthropomorphic innuendo that G-d has a ‘hand’ and, instead, explained that G-d had sent an angel to touch the mouth of Jeremiah. This was quite a common technique whereby the rabbis often reworked uncomfortable anthropomorphic texts.

[See Reading Rabbinic Texts through Modern ‘Filters’ and The Notion that G-d has a Body.]

The Paris papyrus text may be an example of this very trend. Hence the concept of the ‘seal of Solomon’ placed in Jeremiah's mouth, possibly brought by an angel (or by Solomon[8] as the text implies) but certainly with no reference to  G-d’s hand, is a better alternative. Sperber suggests that this papyrus text, therefore, may indeed be a lost Midrash from the anti-anthropomorphic rabbinic school.

THE ARRAY OF RABBINIC REFERENCES TO A MAGICAL ITEM PLACED IN THE MOUTH:

As further support for Sperber's interpretation, we will now look at an array of parallel rabbinic teachings concerning the placing of ‘magical’ items on the tongue to produce some form of prophecy or supernatural outcome.

1) PLACING AMULETS ON (OR UNDER) THE TONGUE:

Placing amulets on (or under) the tongue to achieve certain required outcomes became a common custom in the Jewish mystical world.

In one instance we read about a practice to send dreams to one's neighbour by writing a spell “upon a plate of silver” and placing in the mouth of a rooster.[10]

2) PLACING A RING IN THE MOUTH:

According to Sefer haRazim, sometimes a special ring was placed in a person’s mouth to achieve certain results.[11]

3) HOW TO MAKE ‘TERAFIM’:

When Yakov and Rachel (Leah, Bilah and Zilpah) left Lavan’s house to return to Canaan, Rachel took (stole) her father’s (Lavan’s) terafim[12] while he was out. These terafim, also referred to as ‘household goods’ were in fact idols. The common reason given for taking her father’s idols is that she didn’t want him to worship them.[13]

The Midrash Tanchuma[14] describes how these terafim were made:

“And how did they make [them]? They would bring a first-born man, slaughter him, and salt him with salt and oils. Then they wrote on a golden plate the name of an unclean spirit, and placed the plate with magic under his tongue. Then they placed him in (a niche in?) a wall, and lit before him candles, and prostrated themselves before him, and he would speak with them in oracles – (or: in a magical manner).”

The Targum Yerushalmi[15] states that the golden plate which was placed under the tongue was endowed with ‘kismin’ or ‘magic powers’.  

This Midrash and Targum, again, indicate the widespread and common belief held by Jews and non-Jews that golden and silver plates and certain ‘seals’ or rings placed in the mouth can produce supernatural outcomes.

4) NEBUCHADNEZZAR’S AMULET:

According to Shir haShirim Rabba[16], Nebuchadnezzar who destroyed the First Temple, also used a similar technique:

“What did that wicked man (Nebuchadnezzar) do? He took the diadem [headpiece] of the High Priest and placed it into the mouth (of the idol - cf. Daniel 3:1), and it began to speak [saying]: I am the Lord, thy God...”

The Zohar[17] writes similarly:

“[Nebuchadnezzar] took a vessel of the Temple vessels on which was engraved the Holy Name, and placed it in the mouth of the idol, and from that moment it began to speak wondrous things...”

As does the Tikkunei Zohar[18]:

 “[A]nd afterwards they would place the Ineffable Name (Shem haMeforash) in the mouths of the images (of the zodiacal constellations-the Mazzalot), and they would speak...”

From all these sources it is clear that it was commonly believed that placing a ‘magic item’ in the mouth could cause a person or object to speak in an oracular or prophetic manner. 

However, based on the Paris papyri, we now know that this was not just a rabbinic idea but one held to be similarly true by the general non-Jewish mystical culture at that time.

Thus Sperber is able to speculatively reconstruct two lost rabbinic homilies positioned comfortably within a general papyrus text of pagan magic.

ANALYSIS:

Sperber’s research is fascinating although even he admits that he has not conclusively shown beyond a shadow of a doubt that he discovered lost rabbinic teachings.

Nevertheless, regardless of how one chooses to read Sperber, what we do see and what is abundantly evident is that there were large swathes of common areas of overlap between the early rabbinic position on magic and that of the Greek, Coptic and Gnostic pagan world. 

This muddies the waters and makes it extremely difficult to know the difference between an original Jewish idea and that stemming from the outside pagan magical and mystical community.

Jewish mysticism, as presented today, is a far cry from the original style of mysticism and magic as presented in the older Jewish texts. Today’s mysticism is portrayed as a clean and sophisticated philosophical system of lofty spiritual ideas and concepts - but this wasn’t always the case.

At some point, the system was radically changed from a very raw and folk-rooted magical and superstitious tradition common to the non-Jewish world, to the well-polished theosophy which we find today.

Rambam (1135-1204) was against mysticism and, as we know, presented an alternate system of spiritual rationalism. This began a series of religious controversies which still continue to this day because, despite the theological makeover, we still see an unwillingness to let go of elements of basic theurgy (magic) as was practiced in earlier times.

Thus, for example, the manner in which we teach our children about angels in our contemporary Torah schools, stands in sharp contradistinction to way Rambam understood them. In his view, angels did not manifest as supernatural beings but were rather states of human perception.

Rambam did not believe that the Jewish mystical tradition (as practiced in his day and by extension, certainly thereafter) went all the way back to Sinai. This was to become one of the main points of mystical contention between Maimonides and Nachmanides who did believe that the mystical roots originated at Sinai. [See Who Owned the Early Kabbalah?]

Rambam believed that he knew the origins of Jewish mysticism and that he understood that, to a large extent, it simply reflected some of the common superstitions of the ancient world.

One of the great ironies of the Maimonidean controversies is that it is Rambam himself who the mystics accuse of misrepresenting Judaism by incorporating an overly Greek (Aristotelian) worldview.

FURTHER READING:

Angels in Rabbinic Literature.

Mutually Exclusive Attitudes Towards Kabbalah.

Chasidei Ashkenaz – These Are Not Superstitions.

---

[1] I intentionally use the terms ‘magical’ and ‘mystical’ interchangeably with reference to earlier theosophy.  Today the separation between ‘theoretical’ and ‘practical’ mysticism is said to be somewhat more distinct. One could argue, however, that even today, when (innocent) attempts are made to manipulate mystical knowledge or ‘direct’ it, it is no longer in the category of theoretical theosophy but has technically crossed back over to theurgy (magic).

[2] Daniel Sperber, Some Rabbinic Themes in Magical Papyri.

[3] Bibliothèque Nationale, Suppl. grec. no. 574.11.

[4] Sifre Devarim, 311.

[5] Shir haShirim Rabba, 6:8.

[6] Adolf Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East, transl. Strachan (London, 1927), pp. 255-66.

[7] The Septuagint verses read in English translation: “And the Lord stretched out his hand to me and touched my mouth, and the Lord said to me, “Behold, I have given my words to your mouth.”

[8] Sperber also suggests that the original text had been corrupted and should read the “by the seal of Solomon” and not “by the seal which Solomon laid...”

[9] See Gittin 68a. In Arabic lore "Bism Illâh" (=in the name of God) is both on the tongue of Jesus and on the seal of Solomon.  E. A. Wallis Budge, Amulets and Talismans (1961 ed.), p. 70. It is possible that the Muslims begin their sermons with this reference in order to take advantage of the ‘seal’ and thus speak in ‘prophecy’. The 'seal' is known as Khātam Sulaymān and refers to the signet ring of King Solomon.

[10] M. Gaster , The Sword of Moses, (London 1898), p. 39 no. 70.

[11] Sefer ha-Razim, ed. M. Margalioth (Jerusalem 1966), pp. 105-06.

[12] Similar objects are also referenced in Judges 17:5, 2 Kings 23:24 and Zecharia 10:2.

[13] Other reasons are that by possessing these terafim, she could claim her father’s inheritance and also use them as fertility amulets.

[14] Tanchuma, Vayetzei 12.

[15] Bereishit, 31:19.

[16] Shir haShirim, Rabba 7:9.

[17] Zohar, Terumah 2, fol. 175b. 

[18] Tikkunei Zohar, Tikkun 66, fol. 97b.