501) Were some early Spanish Kabbalists defending a Maimonidean position?

An image believed to be that of R. Yitzchak the Blind occupied with the Sefirot

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Professor Tzahi Weiss[1] ꟷ examines an interesting and unusual approach to understanding how thirteenth-century Kabbalah suddenly emerged in Provence (southern France) and Catalonia (northeastern Spain). With this emergence, there was now a rapid interest in, and wide reception of, the notion of Sefirot (Divine emanations). Although the term ‘Sefirot’ was used in the earlier mystical work of the Bahir, it suddenly took on a specific meaning in thirteenth-century Spanish Zoharic Kabbalah. 

Weiss, a professor of Jewish mysticism, offers a unique interpretation as to why the Spanish Kabbalists reworked and redefined the older existing notion of Sefirot.  While the Spanish Kabbalists are usually depicted as radical mystics in direct conflict with Maimonidean rationalism ꟷ Weiss fascinatingly sees these Kabbalists as having more in common with some aspects of Maimonides’ Halachic writings (Mishneh Torah) and his philosophical writings (Moreh Nevuchim or Guide for the Perplexed) than usually imagined!

454) Reconstructing the story of a Maimonidean student:

 

Introduction

This article − based extensively on the research by Dr Reimund Leicht – examines the story of R. Yosef ben Yehuda ibn Shimon, a student of Maimonides (1138-1204).[1] He could not have been an insignificant student because Maimonides chose to dedicate his philosophical work, Moreh Nevuchim (Guide of the Perplexed), to him. Very little is known about Yosef ibn Shimon. However, based on available historical evidence, Leicht reconstructs his life story and shows how he may have played a pivotal role in supporting his teacher during the Maimonidean Controversies that broke out after the passing of Maimonides. We are also presented with a fascinating window into some details about Maimonides the individual, and some of his practical directives about rabbinic independence and not teaching Torah for money. 

449) Maimonides on the authority of the rabbis

A 13th to 14th century manuscript of Moreh Nevuchim from Yemen.

Introduction

This article − based extensively on the research by Professor Menachem Kellner[1] − explores Maimonides (1135-1204) as a democratiser of Jewish law. Maimonides’ theology and worldview have been interpreted in so many ways, many of which are mutually exclusive. The problem is that by just reading his Code of Law, known as Mishneh Torah, he comes across as a dedicated jurist and Halachist. On the other hand, by just reading his Guide of the Perplexed, or Moreh Nevuchim, he emerges as a radical philosopher. Thus, to some, Maimonides is simply a legal Halachist who essentially despised philosophy  (either because they never read Moreh Nevuchim or they claimed it was a forgery). To others, he becomes the Great Philosopher whose deepest thoughts were in grave conflict with normative Judaism. To still others, he becomes a secret mystic who later in his life turns against philosophy and adopts Kabbalah.[2] And there are even those who believe he was a secret Karaite.[3] 

372) R. Yitzchak Arama and the subtle demise of Jewish rationalism

 

Introduction

Many people, including rabbis, are surprised to discover that the concept of a rationalist Maimonidean Judaism exists. Maimonides’ thought is not the Maimonides of the Mishna Torah compiled around 1180 which many are familiar with (and which, by Maimonides’ own description, was just his summary of the Talmud) - but rather the philosophical Maimonides of the Moreh Nevuchim or Guide of the Perplexed, compiled later in 1190. The personal hashkafa or worldview of Rambam can only be seen in the latter work. Although Rambam passed away about eighty years before the Zohar was first published in 1290, he presented a strong rationalist worldview and deeply opposed the mystical thought that was brewing during his lifetime. The mystics repressed his rationalist ideology during the following few centuries when Kabbalah became dominant (and they continue to do so today), and his rationalist thought was essentially eradicated from Judaism.

360) Why was The Guide For The Perplexed intended to be a secret document?

 

 

Introduction

 

Rambam (Maimonides, 1135-1204) places tremendous importance on the meaning and usage of words. He dedicates major sections of his Moreh Nevuchim (Guide For The Perplexed[1]) to explain how words are used in the Torah. He believed that most of the rabbinic world during his time misunderstood and misrepresented many basic words, especially those used in relation to G-d. Yet, for some reason, he also wanted this writing to remain hidden. This article explores some readings selected from early sections of the Moreh Nevuchim.

316) PATTERNS IN THE SUPERCOMMENTARIES ON RASHI:

 

b. Yevamot 63a.

INTRODUCTION:

Rashi’s commentaries on the Torah are well known. However, the commentaries on his commentaries - known as supercommentaries - are less known, even “wholly neglected”. These supercommentaries or Parshanei Rashi number in the dozens by conservative estimates and possibly even in the hundreds.[1]

In this article, based extensively in the research by Professor Eric Lawee[2] of Bar Illan University, we shall explore a sample of different supercommentaries on one single Rashi commentary on a verse in Genesis.

NOTE: The quotation from Rashi upon which this article is based may upset sensitive readers. The intention, however, is not to focus on the subject but rather on the patterns which emerge in the supercommentaries which deal with it.

 

286) GENIZA DOCUMENT REVEALS FIRST STIRRINGS OF ANTI-MAIMONIDEAN SENTIMENT IN EGYPT:

Professor Paul B. Fenton from the Sorbonne - an authority on Geniza manuscripts.

MAIMONIDEAN CONTROVERSIES PART IV:

INTRODUCTION:

It is always fascinating to see how new documents - concerning earlier rabbinic periods we thought we knew - surface from time to time, reminding us that rabbinic personalities, themes and ideas are never stagnant.

This is the story of the discovery of historical documents describing, first hand, events and counter events relating and contemporaneous to Maimonides (1135-1204).

I have drawn extensively from the research[1] of Professor Paul B. Fenton, Co-Director of Hebrew studies at the Université Paris-Sorbonne and an authority on Medieval Hebrew and Arabic manuscripts. He is a graduate of Yeshivat Eitz Chaim and has also taught at Yeshiva University.

PART I:

THE STORY:

Just over a century ago, the German Orientalist[2] Eugen Mittwoch (1876-1942) published a text found in the Cairo Geniza. It was a unique description of Maimonides by an unknown contemporary who lived in Cairo in around 1200. 

Mittwoch had purchased the original text in Cairo during his visit to that city in 1899, just three years after the discovery of Cairo Geniza.

For some reason, at that time the text attracted scant attention from the scholarly world. 

Mittwoch was a professor at Berlin University and despite the Nazi rise to power, he managed to eventually escape to England. During the turmoil, this text was lost.

Almost seventy years later - in 2004 – Professor Paul Fenton was analysing texts from the Institute for Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts in Jerusalem. These texts were from the little-known Sofer Collection in London, which includes some Geniza fragments.

One text caught his eye. Amazingly, Fenton recognized the distinctive 800-year-old handwriting of R. Chananel ben Shmuel al-Amshati the Judge (circa 1170-1250), from his previous study of other Geniza fragments.

The text that Fenton was reading was a contemporary description of, and testimony about, Maimonides – and Fenton soon realized that he had re-discovered the original lost Mittwoch manuscript which went missing during the Nazi era. It had somehow made its way into the Sofer Collection - only now the author was no longer unknown but identified as R. Chananel al-Amshati.

THE MITTWOCH MANUSCRIPT:

The Mittwoch manuscript is an important one as it was written by R. Chananel who was in very close contact with Maimonides and it reveals some of his personal details. It also sheds light on the Egyptian origins of what was to become the great Maimonidean Controversies – and particularly on the stirrings of the objections to Maimonides’ interest in Philosophy.

The Mittwoch manuscript was just a part of a larger emerging collection of texts describing the polarization of the Egyptian Jewish community into supporters of Maimonides and fierce opponents. Surprisingly many of the opponents were close members of Maimonides’ own family. From this and other Geniza documents, we get a picture of protest movements beginning to take root in both directions - for and against Maimonides.

PART II:

THE TEXTS:

THE PROTEST MOVEMENT AGAINST AVRAHAM BEN HARAMBAM:

A Geniza document[3] describes the formation of a protest movement in favour of Maimonides but against Maimonides’ son, Avraham ben haRambam, and his growing camp which had mystical tendencies and was involved in a form of Jewish Sufism.

Fenton writes:

“Maimonides’ descendants were the champions of this Judaeo-Sufi tendency.”

[See Rambam’s Only Son – Another Sufi Connection? and ‘Chovot Halevavot’ – A Sufi Connection?]

In this document, we are introduced to the important figure, R. Chananel al-Amshati, mentioned earlier. R. Chananel is described as supporting Avraham ben haRambam and his mystical Sufi circle. Fenton shows how R. Chananel composed his own mystical writings in stark contrast to the rationalist and philosophical teachings of Maimonides. There is no question that R. Chananel was a mystic and an ardent anti-rationalist.

The document also reveals a telling piece of information that both R. Chananel and Avraham ben haRambam together attended the posthumous sale of the personal library of a fellow member of this Egyptian mystical Sufi circle, R. Avraham heChasid who passed away in 1223. This sale (or auction?) took place in the Palestinian Synagogue in Cairo, and was even attended by prospective Muslim buyers, which bespeaks the Sufi connection.

THE PROTEST MOVEMENT AGAINST MAIMONIDES:

The larger and more formidable protest movements, however, were against Maimonides and were led by Maimonides’ son, Avraham ben haRambam and R. Chananel.

WHO WAS R. CHANANEL?

Members of the mystical group of Avraham ben haRambam received the title ‘heChasid’. R. Chananel also received that appellation as he is referred to as R. Chananel heChasid haDayan, clearly indicating he was a prominent member of the mystical group.

R. Chananel was the Chief Judge of Cairo and possibly the father-in-law of Avraham ben haRambam. This would have made him an in-law to Maimonides himself.[4]

Maimonides makes reference to a certain ‘pious judge’ (haDayan heChasid) in three instances in his letters, and it is likely that he was referring to R. Chananel.[5] R. Chananel was very close to Maimonides. Fenton suggests that around 1200, R. Chananel was commissioned to copy part of Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed for R. Yosef Ibn Shamun. R. Chananel, also having an Andalusian[6] handwriting style[7] would have been well suited to deciphering Maimonides’ distinctive Andalusian cursive.

R. CHANANEL AL-AMSHATI BECOMES MAIMONIDES’ FIRST COMMENTATOR:

R. Chananel, becomes the first commentator on Maimonides’, and the albeit sparse record of his writings are largely concerned with his commentary on Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah.

R. CHANANEL BECOMES AN ARDENT OPPONENT OF MAIMONIDES:

But R. Chananel also becomes one of Maimonides’ first outspoken opponents.

Fenton is quick to point out that although R. Chananel copied Maimonides’ writings and commentated on his texts, he was far from a devoted adherent to Maimonides’ thoughts and philosophies. In fact, quite to the contrary, as evidenced by R. Chananel writing his own version of Sefer haMitzvot (originally penned by Maimonides). He also parts ways with Maimonides on a number of issues including the counting of the commandments (i.e., which commandments are officially included within the 613 mitzvot).

It seems that he chose the same title for the work as Maimonides in order to outdo him. 

Fenton explains that whereas Maimonides was often concise, R. Chananel:

“...provides a fully-fledged exposition for each mizvah, involving a definition of the precept, its scriptural source, its rabbinic sources, its sub-categories, and a full halakhic discussion of the topic.”

Additionally, R. Chananel took issue with Maimonides’ reliance on philosophy and rationalism, as Fenton writes:

“...for fear that its study may lead the uninitiated into irreligion and heresy.”

Thus R. Chananel’s ideas were clearly at odds with those of Maimonides on so many levels.

The more we read about R. Chananel, the more we see that he emerges as an outright opponent of Maimonides. 

R. Chananel does not neglect to remind us that Maimonides’ own father - R. Maymun - was also opposed to the study of philosophy and rationalism.

According to a text found in the Cairo Geniza:

“[Maimonides’] father, our master Maymun...had never delved into these [philosophical or rational] disciplines, not even for a day, despite his [having]...beheld the discourse of the compositions of our Master [Maimonides][8].”[9]

This indicates that Maimonides’ father refused to even read the philosophical writings of his own son.

CRITICISM OF MAIMONIDES’ VIEW ON PROVIDENCE:

R. Avraham ben haRambam joins in the opposition and writes how he opposes philosophy and how he disagrees with, amongst many other issues, his father’s view on Providence where Maimonides flirts with the idea that G-d does not always actively control everything.

[See A Leaf Falls from a Tree – Accident or Providence?]

Between Avraham ben haRambam and R. Chananel we now have the rumblings of what was to become a strong anti-Maimonidean movement in Egypt. These were the beginnings of two very distinct movements within Judaism which would shape much of its future debate and scholarship: the mystics versus the rationalists.

R. Chananel unambiguously takes the side of the Judaeo-Sufis and mystics of Egypt. He aligns himself with Avraham ben haRambam who writes:

“God has enabled (the true adherents of the Law who have grasped its secret meaning), to understand by means of His Law what the scientists and philosophers do not understand, and He has established for them, by means of His signs and miracles, proof for what the latter deny apropos His knowledge...of particulars and His regard for the conditions of men and His personal providence for every individual person...just as He provides for every individual species among the species of nature...”[10]

This is a very significant piece of writing because it shows how Maimonides made a distinction between Hashgacha Peratit (where G-d is said to take care of every single individual down to the most minuscule detail) and Hashgacha Kelalit (where G-d is said to take care only of the general species in the broadest of terms).

Some question whether Maimonides applied the principle of Hashgacha Kelalit to humans or only to the non-human species within nature[11]. From Avraham ben haRambam’s writings, it is apparent that he believed his father sometimes applied Hashgacha Kelalit even to humans.

This was obviously a point of great contention because Avraham ben haRambam wrote on the same issue in another work:

“Aristotle [whose teachings influenced Maimonides]...considered...the Creator to be ignorant of particulars and suchlike [in other words Aristotle and by extension Maimonides negated the principle of Hashgacha Peratit][12], and therefore...just as he is mistaken in these beliefs, so is he mistaken in all his statements.”[13]

CRITICISM OF MAIMONIDES’ VIEW OF PROPHECY:

Fenton also discovered another relevant but anonymous text which harshly criticises Maimonides’ view on prophecy which, again, is typically downplayed by him (Maimonides).

Maimonides believed that:

"[A]ll prophecy is a function of the prophet's divinely inspired imagination. Every appearance of God and His surrogates in Scripture is to be understood as an imaginative construction, not to be taken literally. The events depicted did not occur other than in the prophet's imagination." [19]

The text, from the Firkovic Collection, criticizes that view and states:

“Goodness, how weak is their [the school of Maimonides] statement but how great its harm to the soul! 

Had they just stated that...God transmits his influence to his saints in a manner whose essence we mortals do not know, their claim would have had a more salutary effect upon the soul...

However, they have led men astray...”[14]

ORIGINS OF ANTI-PHILOSOPHY TENDENCIES:

Fenton describes the historical influences behind the rise in anti-Maimonidean sentiment:

“The anti-philosophical stand of Maimonides’ close successors must be seen in the light of the change of intellectual climate in the wake of the decline of philosophy in the Muslim world and, in the immediate case of Egypt, the vigorous spread of Sufism in that land, and its hostility towards profane science and philosophy.”

MAIMONIDES TURNS TO SOUTHERN FRANCE FOR SUPPORT:

In a profoundly moving letter from Maimonides to R. Yonatan haCohen of Lunel in southern France - which became a bastion of Maimonidean support - he writes:

“My colleagues at this difficult time, you and those that reside in your region are the only ones that hold aloft the banner of Moses[15]. While you study the Talmud, you cultivate the other sciences, whereas here in the East [i.e., Egypt][16], men of wisdom diminish and disappear. Thus salvation will only come to us through you.”[17]

THE ANTI-MAIMONIDEAN MOVEMENT GROWS:

Just nineteen years after Maimonides’ passing, Daniel Ibn al-Mashati haBavli joins the large anti-Maimonidean movement and writes that Maimonides had created an 'alternate Torah'. Daniel Ibn al-Mashati advocated a return to mysticism which he called ‘Chasidut’ and an abandonment of the evils of Maimonidean philosophy.

Daniel al-Mashati writes:

“[Maimonides decided to give] an allegorical interpretation to the words of the Torah so that they would be in keeping with philosophical speculation. Thus he interpreted the biblical and rabbinic texts in an unprecedented manner, expressly stating that he had derived the latter from his own mind and had not learned them from a master. He paid no attention to the beliefs and explanations current among the nation...

Verily the Torah has become as two laws indicating a divergency which goes beyond the gap between each’s beliefs, its negative opinion of the other and its attribution to them of ignorance and heresy.”[18]

This sharp piece of writing underscores the vitriol which was to become the hallmark of the growing Maimonidean Controversies.

ANALYSIS:

Were it not for the discovery of such revealing texts from the Cairo Geniza, we may never have fully understood the genesis of the Maimonidean Controversies in Egypt.

The theological schism which began within the confines of Maimonides’ own family, overflowed to, and was reflected in, the rivalry between the rationalists and Judaeo-Sufis of Egypt. 

It then spread to the West manifesting in a universal controversy between the philosophers and mystics in general. That great theological controversy continues to this day.

As we see particularly in the last text (by Daniel al-Mashati), Maimonides is accused of bringing a foreign, non-Jewish element to Judaism, which had no precedent whatsoever within previous rabbinic thought, and which he did not ‘learn from a (Jewish) master’.

He is accused of ignoring an imagined authoritative mainstream which was determined solely on the basis of ‘current’ Jewish thought and not on the basis of historical investigation. 

[For an example of possible earlier rabbinic precedents for Maimonidean theology, see Two Diverse Midrashic Conceptions of G-d.]

And, most importantly, he is accused of irreconcilably creating ‘two laws’ - or two religions - from what was presented as having been an alleged long continuum of monolithic and homogenous theology but was instead only extrapolated from the then ‘current’ trends.

A student of contemporary Judaism, who understands how these undercurrents continue to play out today, will immediately recognize that not much has changed since them.

FURTHER READING:

For more on the Maimonidean Controversies, see: 

Between Provence and Barcelona. 

The Politics Behind the Piety 

Displacing Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah. 

The South Will Rise Again?. 

How Rashi was Used as ‘Leverage’ During the Maimonidean Controversies.]

---

[1] Paul B. Fenton, A Re-Discovered Description of Maimonides by a Contemporary.

[2] An Orientalist is defined as someone from the West who studies the language, culture, history or customs of countries in eastern Asia.

[3] See Goitein as in previous note.

[4] However, in one Geniza document, R. Chananel is referenced as being the father-in-law to Maimonides: S. D, Goitein, New documents from the Cairo Geniza, p. 717. It has also been suggested the R. Chananel may have been a student of Maimonides: M. Friedman, The Family of Ibn al-Amshati, p. 271-297. This is evidenced by details of R. Chananel attending lectures by Maimonides.

[5] However, D. Baneth identifies the ‘pious judge’ with R. Yitzchak ben Sasson, a permanent member of Rambam’s Beit Din.

[6] Andalusia is the historical region of southern Spain.

[7] Even though R. Chananel’s family had been in Egypt for four generations, it is common for Maghrebi (North-Western African) Jews, known as Magrebim, to proudly have held on to their distinctive handwriting style. The Jews of Andalusia adopted the Maghrebi style of handwriting.

[8] Parentheses mine.

[9] London, Collection Soffer, Geniza 29.

[10] Abraham Maimonides, High Ways to Perfection, ed. Rosenblatt, vol. II, 133.

[11] Maimonides’ writings in Mishneh Torah often contradict his writings in his Guide of the Perplexed, so there is some uncertainty in this matter. (See Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Ta'anit 1:1-3.)

[12] Parentheses mine.

[13] Abraham Maimonides, Ma’amar al Darshot Chazal, in R. Margulies Milchamot Hashem (Jerusalem 1953), 86.

[14] P. Fenton, Criticism of Maimonides in a Pietist Text from the Genizah, Ginzey Qedem 1 (2005): 158-160.

[15] This may be a reference to the biblical Moses but it is more likely a reference to Moses Maimonides himself.

[16] Parenthesis mine.

[17] Iggerot haRambam, ed. Y. Shailat vol. II (Jerusalem 1987) p. 559.

[18] Taqwim al-adyan. 2^nd Firkovic Collection I. 3132, Fols. 76b-77a. Saint Petersburg, Russian National Library.
[19] Alfred L. Ivri, The Weight of Midrash on Rashi and Maimonides, p. 314. 

263) THE POLITICS BEHIND THE PIETY - BRINGING THE BATTLE INTO THE SIDDUR:

King James I of Aragon intervenes on behalf of the Kabbalists to unseat the Maimonidean Rationalists.

MAIMONIDEAN CONTROVERSIES PART IV:

INTRODUCTION:

The intellectual and spiritual rationalism[1] of Maimonides (Rambam, 1135-1204) sparked a series of intense religious confrontations, known as the Maimonidean Controversies. It is widely held that the emergence of Kabbalah in the years following Rambam’s passing was a direct reaction to his extreme rationalism. This renewed interest in mysticism culminated in the publishing of the Zohar in around 1280.

[For more on the intensity of these Maimonidean Controversies, see Part I, Part II and Part III.]

In this article, we are going to show how the battle between the mystics and the rationalists may have resulted in a subtle change in the text of the Siddur (Prayer Book).

We will also take a fascinating inside look into the oftentimes ruthless politics behind the piety of 13^th-century Spain.

I have drawn extensively from Professor (Emeritus) Bernard Septimus[2], a specialist in Jewish History and Sephardic Civilization, at Harvard University.

BARCELONA’S JEWISH ‘CIVIL WAR’:

Around 1240, the Barcelona Jewish community found itself in the midst of three historic conflicts:

One was political; an internal Jewish struggle for communal power. 

The other two were theological; Rambam’s rationalism and philosophical approach to Judaism was considered dangerous and the rising mystics were attempting to displace it.

And, thirdly, this emerging interest in Kabbalah was hotly debated for its legitimacy and authenticity.

THE POLITICAL REVOLT:

Jewish Barcelona was in the hands of the followers of Mainonidean rationalism, known as the Nesi'in (lit.  princes). But this did not last for long.

A political struggle ensued between the Jewish leadership of Barcelona resulting in a revolt against the former Nesi’im who had enmeshed themselves in positions of aristocratic power - and the rabbinical scholarly elite, which included figures like Nachmanides (Ramban) and R. Yonah Gerondi, who as Septimus puts it; “thought power [was] the prerogative of pious scholars.”

The political establishment was comprised of the aristocratic Nesi’im, who were followers of Rambam’s rationalism and philosophy. They condemned the emerging Kabbalistic thought which was becoming popular under the influence of Nachmanides. One of the Nesi’im’s early leaders was Sheshet Benveniste whose fiery defence of Rambam portrayed a “fierce rationalistic spirituality” so typical of the followers of Maimonides.

The rebels, on the other hand, who sought to unseat the Nesi’im, were illustrious scholars like Nachmanides, R. Yonah Gerondi and R. Shmuel haSardi[3], and they were just as steadfast in their mystical agenda. They were led by a mystical and somewhat elusive poet, R. Isaac Castellón.

It is this mystical poet and rebel leader, R. Isaac Castellón that we are going to turn our attention to.

THE LETTER FROM THE RATIONALISTS:

The mystics’ rebellion against the rationalist establishment was bitter with both sides pulling no punches.

Septimus explains that it is most likely that R. Isaac Castellón is the subject of a letter[4] written by the rationalists condemning the mystical rebels and their leader who is described as “a faithless teacher who worships a weird mixture of angels and idols.”

This is a clear reference to the emerging Kabbalists who were regarded as following a type of polytheism because of their system of Sefirot (spheres or energies) which the rationalists considered to contradict the unity and Oneness of G-d. 

R. Isaac Castellón seems to be this ‘faithless’ rebel leader.

The same letter goes on to make some very serious accusations against the Jewish lineage of some of the other mystical leaders like R. Yonah Gerondi and even the Nachmanides himself (the two were cousins). It also seems that R. Isaac Castellón too, was also included in the category of those of suspected impure lineage.

KING JAMES I INTERVENES:

The dispute became so vitriolic that King James I of Aragon (not to be confused with the later King James of England) decided to intervene. 

However, he took the side of the Kabbbalists.

In 1241, the king issued a document calling for the “good men” (i.e., the mystics) of Barcelona to fine or expel those who slandered them (i.e., the rationalist Nesi’im). This started a process whereby eventually the Maimonidean rationalists were unseated from their positions of power which now became the prerogative of the Kabbalists. The Kabbalists now controlled Jewish Barcelona.

As Septimus puts it:

“This document marks the defeat of the nesi’im, and the end of their regime.”

Symbolically the King’s document of 1241 - thirty-seven years after Rambam’s passing - came to represent the beginning of the end for the Maimonidean rationalists who now had to move over and make way for the nascent Kabbalists, whose ideas were to dominate the future of Judaism and largely become it’s mainstream.

R. ISAAC CASTELLÓN IN NACHMANIDES’S LETTERS:

Interestingly, two other documents survive[5] which indicate that Nachmanides himself had a role in informing that fateful decision of the King of Aragon.

Also, in these documents, the mystical poet R. Isaac Castellón emerges as one of the heroes of the rebellion which brought down the authority of the Maimonidean rationalists.

As an example of how bitter and fierce the controversy was, Nachmanides writes with equal but opposing vitriol that his aim is to:

“...refute the Epicurean [the hedonists – which is how he referred to the Maimonidean rationalists][6] and shut the mouths of the reprobates [morally corrupt][7] who project their own blemishes onto others, casting blemish upon the holy...

[For] there has now risen up a brood of sinful men...soiled with every transgression in the Torah, the lightest of which is adultery and lying with menstruant women.

Their prince (nasi) sullies himself with all these abominations. Father and son resort to the same girl with intent to profane.

[They are] utter informers [who deserve] to be lowered into a pit, who slandered noble families in the kingdom of Barcelona and Gerona...”

The document mentions the names of R. Yonah Gerondi and Nachmaindes[8] but, of interest to our discussion is the inclusion of the name R. Isaac Castellón:

“And second to them was the saint (Hasid – a title often referring to Kabbalists)...and poet, R. Isaac [of] Castellón...

Because these masters were most jealous for God, blessed be He, [it transpired][9] that violent, sinful men were called by the title ‘prince’ (nasi), and reduced them in accordance with the law, [(i.e.), they were slandered]...”

R. ISAAC CASTELÓN IN RESPONSA LITERATURE:

Things begin to take an interesting turn because some time after this letter, R. Isaac Castellón’s name appears in a set of unpublished Responsa (Halachic Questions and Answers or She’eilot uTeshuvot) literature.

Questions about the purity of lineage of R. Isaac Castellón began to resurface seventy-five years after the rebellion and Halachic clarity was sought to finally put this matter to rest. 

The Responsa texts indicate that descendants of the Castellón family married into influential families like that of R. Shlomo ibn Aderet (Rashba, 1235-1310). This obviously mitigated in favour of the purity of the Castellón Jewish lineage.

But, the Responsa also show that some families may have intentionally not intermarried with the Castellón descendants to avoid taking any chances with the purity of their lineage.[10]

The Responsa texts then reveal that as many as twenty-one Catalan (Spanish) rabbis wrote to the rabbis of Northern France and Provence (Southern France) and refuted the allegations of impure lineage which had been levelled against R. Isaac Castellón and R. Yonah Gerondi and claimed it was part of the malicious propaganda of earlier rationalists.

THE ROYAL COURT GETS INVOLVED, AGAIN:

Amazingly, for a second time, the King[11] of Aragon intervenes on behalf of mystics. This time, the royal court demanded that the matter of purity of lineage of the Castellón’s descendants be resolved for once and for all.

Septimus writes:

“The king’s decree demanded responses from the entire elite of the Catalan halakhic establishment, attention well beyond what the question would ordinarily have received. By having the full weight of current authority behind them, the family, no doubt, hoped for a decisive vindication...

The king’s order is forceful: it even sets deadlines before which the specified scholars must present their written decisions. I wonder how welcome this intrusion was: the respondents, though asked, as experts, to rule on the basis of Jewish law, cannot have been unaware of the king’s preferred answer...

Royal demand for a halakhic ruling was not unprecedented and is a phenomenon that deserves further exploration.”

All in all, one can only surmise whether the history of the Kabbalist rebellion against the Maimonidean rationalist establishment in Barcelona, would have turned out any different without the intervention of the Spanish royals.

R. ISAAC CASTELÓN’S POEMS (PIYUTIM):

R. Isaac Castellón’s poems are informative as they show how the emergence of a new Kabbalistic style and way of thinking was beginning to embed itself within the tradition.

His poems were deep and meaningful.

This is how Septimus explains one particular poem:

“The opening (‘My mind knows that it knows not...’) appropriates the language of Neoplatonic ‘negative theology.’

The entire first stanza is reminiscent of Bahya ibn Paquda’s remark that ‘the ultimate knowledge of [God] is your acknowledgment and certainty that you are ignorant of His true essence,’ which he links to this prayer: ‘My Lord, where do I find You? But where do I not find You? You are veiled, unseen, yet You pervade All.” 

The stanza also echoes Halevi’s lines: ‘Lord, where do I find You ,Your place is high and hidden. But where do I not find You, Your Glory fills the universe.’

It thus proclaims a twofold paradox: Awareness of one’s ignorance is the true knowledge of God, Who is at once transcendent and immanent.”

ADJUSTING OR SUBVERTING?

Judaism has long had a mystical tradition. However it underwent different stages in its development. At around this period, the mystical tradition was transforming from the older Heichalot and Merkavah literature [see A Window into Pre-Zoharic Mystical Literature] to a new Kabbalah of the Zohar (first published around 1280) which spoke of Sefirot and unifications etc.

Septimus explains:

“Castellón shows himself a master of the Andalusian [southern Spanish][12] tradition, who is adjusting (his opponents might have said subverting) its spiritual orientation. The shift is barely perceptible because he skillfully uses traditional techniques and themes to project a sense of literary and spiritual continuity.”

A ‘PIYUT’ INSERTION IN BLESSING BEFORE THE SHEMA:

One of R. Isaac Castellón’s liturgical poems (piyitim) is known as an Ahavah - after Ahavah Rabbah which is the prayer recited just before the morning Shema.

The prayer ends with the blessing ‘habocher be’amo Yisrael be’ahavah’ (that G-d chooses Israel out of love).

Septimus writes:

“[But] Castellón’s ahavah is unusual: it concludes not with the love between God and Israel that gives the genre its name, but with God’s unity. It transitions, in other words, not to [be’ahavah] 

but to [le’yachedecha][13]

and the first verse of the Shema itself. This anomaly, we shall see, is significant.”

In other words, we suddenly have an insertion of the word le’yachedecha (to unify You). The reason why this is significant is because one of the allegations the rationalists levelled against the Kabbalists was that the emergent system of Sefirot (spheres) was a form of polytheism where G-d is no longer a monotheistic G-d but rather a composite of various energies.[14]

In R. Isaac Castellón’s poem, these Sefirot are referred to a Sodecha, or Your secrets.

According to Septimus:

“This plurality was what rendered kabbalists vulnerable to the charge of polytheism, a charge that, we have seen, was prominent in the polemic against the Barcelona rebels.”

To counter this charge, it was deemed to be very important to point out that all these Sefirot and spiritual energies and realms were able to unite in a Oneness.

The worshipper would reach a state where:

“He causes his thought to ascend through mystical kavvanah, attaching it to the divine and bringing the sefirot into harmonious balance.”

Hence the importance of the insertion of the word le’yachedecha (to unify You), particularly just before the Shema where G-d’s Oneness is proclaimed.

“The liturgical framing of the Shema with a kabbalistic conception of God’s unity, even if subtly stated, is no small thing; for it constitutes a communal embrace of kabbalistic theology.”

A ‘POLITICAL ACT’:

This prayer had become part of the Spanish prayer service in some places in Catalan.

Septimus puts it most poignantly:

“All this may seem quintessentially apolitical; but it was not, in fact, irrelevant to the rebellion in which [R. Isaac][15]the Castellón participated: the final stanza, after all, rejects a charge hurled at the rebel camp.

The poem has a well-defined liturgical function: to augment the berakhah before the Shema in its synagogue recitation.

Any poet who proposes a thematically charged piyyut for public prayer is engaged in a political act. All the more so if it intervenes on an issue that has already entered political discourse...

Public recitation in its pristine version would have signaled a decisive rejection of the old order of the nesi’im.”

The insertion of le’yechedecah was clearly a huge issue because some later versions of the prayer, apparently from 15^th-century southern Italy (in a Spanish hand), expunged that reference.

Another version, this time found in a Machzor (Holiday prayer book) also in a Spanish hand and from the same time similarly ‘dekabbalizers’ the text.

CONCLUSION:

I did some research and found (as far as I can tell) that all versions (nuscha’ot) of this prayer Ahavah Rabbah as they occur in our common siddurim today, conclude with le’yachedecha – but with one exception.

Significantly, it is the prayer book used by the rationalist Yemenites who follow the Maimonidean traditions. Their prayer nusach or liturgy is known as Baladi.

In this version, there is no reference to le’y‎achedecha as, in their Maimonidean system, they had no need to reconcile a notion of plurality with Oneness.

Ashkenazi Nusach with le'yachedecha highlighted.

Baladi Nusach, following Maimonides with no mention of any Unifications.

[See A Traditional School of Yemenite Rationalism and R. Yosef Kapach – The Suppression of a Rationalist Tradition and The Search for the Most Accurate Maimonidean Texts.

---

[1] It is interesting to see that Bernard Septimus seems to have coined the phrase ‘spiritual rationalism of Maimonides’ to counter the popular notion that only the mystical approach is spiritual.

[2]  Bernard Septimus, Isaac de Castellón: Poet, Kabbalist, Communal Combatant.

[3] Samuel haSardi wrote the Sefer haTerumot which heavily influenced large parts of R. Yaakov ben Asher’s (also known as the Baal haTurim) Tur Choshen Mishpat, and, through it, subsequent Jewish civil law. [For more on the mystics attempts (and success) at controlling future Halacha see Displacing Maimonides’s Mishneh Torah.]

[4] Klein, Jews, Christian Society, and Royal Power, 121ff.

[5] Septimus, “Piety and Power,” 204.

[6] Parenthesis mine.

[7] Parenthesis mine.

[8] The letters was recorded by an unknown editor apparently quite soon after the events so it is unclear (to me at least) whether Nachmanides was writing about himself or if this was the work of the editor.

[9] Parenthesis mine.

[10] See Bodleian, MS Reggio32, 247a, 252b, 259b.

[11] This would not have been the same King James I of Aragon as he died in 1276.

[12] Parenthesis mine.

[13] Parentheses mine.

[14] The Kabbalists would explain that there is a difference ‘before’ and ‘after’ the tzimtzum (contractions).

[15] Parenthesis mine.