503) Sebastianism: Crossover messianism that predated Sabbatianism

 

A Chumash printed by R. Menashe ben Yisrael in Amsterdam. Note the interesting way he presents the date.

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Professor Matt Goldish[1] ꟷ examines the unusual notion of messianic crossover between Jews, Christians and Muslims that developed around the sixteenth century. What is even more unusual, from a Jewish perspective, is that the rabbis who participated in such enterprises were always Kabbalists and often respected Halachists as well.

 

Early forms of ‘messianic crossover’

An early example of messianic crossover may have early Christianity where Paul of Tarsus “deliberately engineered or changed” symbols and messages of his messianic movement (Christianity) to “appeal to people outside that tradition” (Goldish 2018:124). This successful methodology was adopted by Paul and he indeed brought many Gentiles under the wings of Christianity. 

502) Moshe haGoleh of Kiev: a critical devotee of Avraham Ibn Ezra

 

An early manuscript of Moshe haGoleh's Kabbalistic work, Shoshan Sodot.

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Professor Eric Lawee[1] ꟷ examines a little-known and somewhat neglected exegete and commentator, R. Moshe ben Yakov (1448-1520) who compiled a super-commentary (i.e., a commentary on a commentary) based on R. Avraham Ibn Ezra (1089-1164) who had preceded him by almost four centuries. Moshe ben Yakov is also known as Moshe haGoleh (the ‘exile’) miKiev.^[2] 

Very few have ever heard of Moshe haGoleh, nor of the commentary he authored on Ibn Ezra entitled Otzar Nechmad, but he had some interesting things to say about Ibn Ezra and his relationship to Halacha, and to his 'opponent' Rashi. Moshe haGoleh also shed some light on the existence of diverse Rashi manuscripts. Additionally, he embarked upon a mission to convert Karaites to Rabbinic Judaism. Surprisingly, although Moshe haGoleh was an outspoken supporter of the rationalist Torah commentary of Ibn Ezra and engaged in the sciences and astronomy, he personally remained a Kabbalist. As an exegete, he was able to maintain a level-headed and even critical approach towards his ‘rabbi,’ Ibn Ezra. He is the only known Kabbalist to have written a super-commentary on Ibn Ezra. Yet, he remains: 

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!

500) Mining Chassidic stories for kernels of historicity

 

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Professor Glynn Dynner[1] ꟷ examines a possible methodology to extract aspects of historical truths from the often exaggerated and venerating style of Chassidic storytelling. Even within Chassidic circles the ‘Chassidishe Maaseh,’ or Chassidic story, is sometimes acknowledged as a questionable source of information, but this is not always the case. The presentation style of Chassidic stories is often referred to as hagiography as opposed to historiography. Sometimes Chassidic hagiography is so dense and detailed that Ada Rapoport-Albert has coined the phrase “Hagiography with footnotes.”[2] As detailed as the hagiography may be, it is still hard to define Chassidic stories as accurate history. Nevertheless, Dynner asks: 

“Can elements of certain tales stand on their own as historical sources?” (Dynner 2009:655).

 

499) The debate over the authenticity of the portrait of R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi

From the Abraham Schwadron Portrait Collection, National Library of Israel archive

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Professor Wojciech Tworek[1] ꟷ examines the debate over the authenticity of one of the best-known portraits in Chassidic iconography; that of the Alter Rebbe, R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Chabad Rebbe. 

Unlike the iconic portrait of the Baal Shem Tov which has conclusively been shown to be not of the Baal Shem Tov of Medzhebuzh (c.1700-1760) but rather of the Baal Shem of London (1708-1782) ꟷ  there is much controversy over the portrait of R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812). 

The portrait of R. Shneur Zalman is published in the haTamim (vol. 2 p. 755) anthology of the sixth Rebbe of Chabad, R. Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson, under the title “תמונת תואר פני קדש הקדשים, The picture of the image of the Holy of Holies...” 

498) Did the Babylonian Talmud create the authoritative rabbi and the passive Jew?

 

Coins from the Bar Kochba era

Introduction

This article – based extensively on the research by Rabbi Dr Amir Mashiach[1] − explores the emergence of the rabbinic class after the failed Jewish revolts against the Romans during the first two centuries CE. Up to that point, the rabbis did not feature in leadership positions. On assuming power immediately after the failed military campaigns and revolts, the rabbis (and the Babylonian rabbis particularly) began to intensely promote passivity as the hallmark of the Torah Jew. Too many Jews had been killed during the wars and the rabbis saw passivity as the only way forward for Jewish survival into the future. 

497) Language as incubators of theological ideas

 

Introduction

This article – based extensively on the research by Professor Edward Ullendorff (1920-2011) – examines languages as distinct incubators of theological ideas. In other words, we are going to see to what extent “different languages reflect different realities” (Ullendorff 1966:273) which, in turn, reflect different theologies; and how translations, in this case from the Hebrew of the Torah into English, can project different meanings from those of the original language. I then take this a step further and propose that sometimes the reflected theologies can impose themselves back onto the original source language, creating a double distortion. 

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. 

495) Benjamin Franklin as a ‘Founding Father’ of the Musar Movement

 

The 1844 edition of Cheshbon haNefesh by R. Menachem Mendel Lefin of Satanów (first published anonymously in 1808).

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Shai Afsai[1] ꟷ examines how Benjamin Franklin (1706–1790), Founding Father of the United States and drafter and signer of the Declaration of Independence, made an unexpected, under-reported, yet significant contribution to the ethical philosophy of R. Menachem Mendel Lefin of Satanów (1749–1826). 

These ethical principles were then later adopted by the Lithuanian Musar movement under R. Yisrael Lipkin Salanter (1810–1883). 

“Leading members of the Lithuanian Musar movement loved Rabbi Menahem Mendel Lefin of Satanów’s method of character refinement” (Afsai 2019:55). 

However, neither R. Lefin nor R. Salanter made any indications that these ethical contributions originated with Benjamin Franklin. Nevertheless, these methods of character refinement were included in R. Lefin’s work, Cheshbon haNefesh, which became a key source for R. Yisrael Salanter’s Musar movement which was intended to be an alternative to Chassidism.  

494) Inverted hierarchies: Humans making G-d more moral

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Professor Dov Weiss[1] ꟷ examines how late Palestinian Midrashim, particularly the Tanchuma Yelamedeinu (fourth to ninth centuries CE), depict humans challenging G-d over morally problematic issues expressed in the Torah. In these cases, biblical figures are audaciously portrayed as both teaching and counselling G-d, as it were, convincing Him to adopt a more moral and ethical approach. The Midrashic work, Tanchuma Yelamedeinu exhibits about fifty examples of humans making G-d ‘more moral.’ 

493) Carrying on Shabbat: From Jeremiah to the Mishna

Jerusalem began trading on the silk route from around 200 BCE

Introduction

This article ꟷ based extensively on the research by Professor Alex P. Jassen[1] ꟷ examines how four pre-Mishnaic texts show evidence of the origin and expansion of the prohibition against carrying on Shabbat. The specific textual prohibition against carrying on Shabbat first begins with Yirmiyahu’s (Jeremiah’s) prohibition against carrying a ‘load’ (מַשָּׂא֙, massa), for trade and commercial purposes, and only in Jerusalem. It then underwent a process of expansion during Second Temple times as it passed through the four texts of Nechemiah (Nehemiah), the Book of Jubilees, the Dead Sea Scrolls and finally became the Mishna’s general Halachic prohibition, as we know it today, against carrying ‘anything’ to or from ‘any’ domain. We shall trace and map this textual progression. Our focus is on the textual trail, as the oral tradition (which we briefly discuss at the conclusion) is not possible to track in the same way. 

492) Are Halachic rulings (Piskei Halacha) open to critical analysis or do they represent Divine Will?

    The varying faces of Piskei Halacha:

A Psak Din from R. Henkin 1934 regarding an inheritance

A Psak Din signed by 250 rabbis declaring the Lubavitcher Rebbe the Messiah

Introduction

This article – based extensively on the research by Professor Adiel Schremer[1] − takes an in-depth and forthright look at the sometimes mysterious process of Halachic decision-making as practised by the Posek (Halachic judge or decisor). The Torah teaches that if any matter of law shall arise in the future that is too difficult for people to determine by themselves, then they must approach the “judge who shall be in those days” (Deut. 17:8-11) for adjudication:

וּבָאתָ֗ אֶל־הַכֹּהֲנִים֙ הַלְוִיִּ֔ם וְאֶ֨ל־הַשֹּׁפֵ֔ט אֲשֶׁ֥ר יִהְיֶ֖ה בַּיָּמִ֣ים הָהֵ֑ם וְדָרַשְׁתָּ֙ וְהִגִּ֣ידוּ לְךָ֔ אֵ֖ת דְּבַ֥ר הַמִּשְׁפָּֽט

However, the Torah is silent on exactly how the judge is to go about deciding the law: 

“Scripture offers no answer, and surprisingly it is neither discussed by later classical Jewish tradition, nor addressed by modern students of Jewish law” (Schremer 2010:5). 

In practice, we all know that the simple answer is to ‘ask a rabbi,’ or, under more pressing circumstances, to ‘ask a Posek’ (an authoritative Halachic decisor). The question, though, in light of the silence on the matter, is what specific process or methodology (if any) does the Posek (have to) follow?  Various interest groups sometimes propose direct or indirect 'guidelines,' but, as we shall see, that only contributes to the problem.