2011. május 4., szerda

Sensus communis and The Art of a common sense. Hermeneutical nature In the geschichte of cultural sciences (Ph.D)

The Common sense, The Demiurges, and The Poesies (ποίησις)

1.1 (The common sense and Eco’s medieval) As well known, the people in the middle ages simply could not integrate the metaphysical category of beauty (daemon) with the clear technical classification of art (pratein), which ones, like acts that not correlate to each other (correlation) manifested in the collective sensual taste of their human ideas.

Whether, in the collectives mentality (that we labeled medieval), why have to coincide the beauty with the goodness and with the verity; respectively defined in the popular sense like the attributes of divine existence? Might be this momentum is the mental heritage ( alike a dual thinking) of the last great prophet after Jesus, Mani, who was up and doing in the state of first Sahpur; which momentum could adapted in the spreaded popular (wölkisch) startification easily, like a simple diagram of judge-thinking?

Though the religion filosophical texts of Qumran’s community testify similar imprints like Mani’s heritage, for example the traditional script: the war between the children of light against the children of darkness. But these texts directly not even impinged on such a big effect on later middle ages mentality, like some of Josephus Flavius’s corpus-es, who was up and doing under the umbrella of Vespasianus. Unless if we not value the Qumran’s territory like premise of Jesus Christianity, like the fusion of christian and jewish historical horizonts (and here I’m not thinking about the new vawe of Twenty Century esoterical christianity).

And why wouldn’t we do that?

2008. december 27., szombat

Gadamer, Theories of ART

1. What is art? The word “art” has had its current meaning only in the last 200 years
Production vs. mechanical arts (Aristotle’s distinction; distorted)
“art is possible because the formative activity of nature leaves open productions of the human spirit” [Hegelian influence]
Art intends the universal (13). What does he mean by “universal”?
Art intensifies our feeling for life [Kant]. The play of form and color: what is the relationship between play and meaning, purpose, learning?
“In the case of art…we always find ourselves held between the pure aspect of visibility presented to the viewer by the ‘in-sight’ (Anbild), as we called it, and the meaning that our understanding dimly senses in the work of art. And we recognize this meaning through the import that every encounter has for us. Where does this meaning come from? Genius (20-21)
Art is the creation of something exemplary which is not simply produced by following rules (21). [Longinus would agree, but a different view of reality.]
“Kant’s great achievement…lay in his advance over the mere formalism of the ‘pure judgment of taste’ in favor of the ‘standpoint of genius’ (21)…Taste was also characterized as a similar play of the imagination and the understanding. It is, with a different emphasis, the same free play as that encountered in the creation of the work of art. Only here the significant content is articulated through the creative activity of the imagination, so that it dawns on the understanding, or, as Kant puts it, allows us ‘to go on to think much that cannot be said’ (21).”
“art is the containment of sense, so that it does not run away or escape from us, but is secured and sheltered in the ordered composure of the creation…Heidegger…enabled us to perceive the ontological plenitude or the truth that addresses us in art through the twofold movement of revealing, unconcealing, and manifesting, on the one hand, and concealing and sheltering, on the other (34)….This philosophical insight, which sets limits to any idealism claiming a total recovery of meaning, implies that there is more to the work of art than a meaning that is experienced only in an indeterminate way (34).”
Art is always symbolic, and “the symbol is that other fragment that has always been sought in order to complete and make whole our own fragmentary life”(32).
“the symbolic in general, and especially the symbolic in art, rests upon an intricate interplay of showing and concealing…the meaning of the work of art lies in the fact that it is there...we should replace the word ‘work’ by the word’ creation’ (33)”
[art as imitation] it is characteristic of art that what is represented…calls us to dwell upon it and give our assent in an act of recognition. We shall have to show how this characteristic defines the task that the art of past and present lays upon each of us. And this means learning how to listen to what art has to say” (36).
“Art demands constructive activity” (vs. idealism) (37).
Play, symbolic, festival

2. Non-art: objects of production with a practical purpose: technology and manufacture.
Intoxication vs. communication; mass media makes people passive

3. Art vs. bad art/ pseudo-art:
kitsch: enjoyed because familiar;
connoisseurship: focus on performance and/or performers rather than the unconcealment, the ontological dimension of art.

4. “The work of art signifies an increase in being.”
“If we really have had a genuine experience of art, then the world has become both brighter and less burdensome” (26).

“the work seems to possess a kind of center. Similarly, we understand a living organism as a being that bears its center within itself in such a way that the various parts are not subordinated to any particular external purposek, but simply serve the self-preservation of the organism as a living being. This ‘ purposiveness without purpose,’ as Kant so well described it, is as characteristic a feature of the organism as it clearly is of the work of art…Aristotle says that t hing is beautiful ‘if nothing can be added and nothing can be taken away’…the work of art does resemble a living organism with its internally structured unity..it too displays autonomous temporality” (43).

5. Beauty: “The expression ‘beautiful ethical life’ still preserves the memory of the Greek ethico-political world which German idealism contrasted with the soulless mechanism of the modern state (Schiller, Hegel)…the ethical life of the people found expression in all forms of communal life, giving shape to the whole and so allowing men to recognize themselves in their own world. Even for us the beautiful is convincingly defined as something that enjoys universal recognition and assent. Thus it belongs to our natural sense of the beautiful that we cannot ask why it pleases us. We cannot expect any advantage from the beautiful since it serves no purpose. The beautiful fulfills itself in a kind of self-determination and enjoys its own self-representation” (14).

“In the beautiful presented in nature and art, we experience this convincing illumination of truth and harmony, which compels the admission: ‘This is true…The ontological function of the beautiful is to bridge the chasm between the ideal and the real” (15). [But how do you define “ideal” and “real”?]

6. The creative process: “this creation is not something that we can imagine being
deliberately made by someone…someone who has produced a work of art stands before the creation of his hands in just the same way that anyone else does. There is a leap between the planning and the executing on the one hand and the successful achievement on the other. The thing now ‘stands’ and thereby is ‘there’ once and for all, ready to be encountered by anyone who meets it and to be perceived in its own ‘quality.’ This leap distinguishes the work of art in its uniqueness and irreplaceability...the aura of the work of art [Walter Benjamin] (33-34).”

7. Artist and work of art:
[focus is not on the artist’s source of inspiration, but on effect on audience; what Collingwood would call craft, psychological art, not real art at all]

“One of the basic impulses of modern art has been the desire to break down the distance separating the audience, the ‘consumers,’ and the public from the work of art…
The hermeneutic identity of the work is much more deeply grounded…
it is the hermeneutic identity that establishes the unity of the work…
there cannot be any kind of artistic production that does not similarly intend what it produces [effect on audience] to be what it is” (25) i.e. bottlerack

8. Relation between the artist/work of art and audience:
focus is not on the source of inspiration of the artist, but on the effect of the work of art, not of the artist, on the audience, the aesthetic experience [Kantian].

[the purpose of aesthetics is to supply an answer to the question of what is relevant about the fact that] cognitio sensitiva means that in the apparent particularity of sensuous experience, which we always attempt to relate to the universal, there is something in our experience of the beautiful that arrests us and compels us to dwell upon the individual appearance itself” (16).

“We are seized and uplifted by the profound harmony and rightness of a work.” (8)

“What is called spirit lies in the ability to move within the horizon of an open future and an unrepeatable past” (10).

“In any encounter with art, it is not the particular, but rather the totality of the experienceable world, man’s ontological place in it, and above all his finitude before that which transcends him, that is brought to experience (33).

“learning to listen means rising above the universal leveling process in which we cease to notice anything—a process encouraged by a civilization that dispenses increasingly powerful stimuli” (36).

“The work issues a challenge which expects to be met. It requires an answer…The participant belong to the play…If we really have had a genuine experience of art, then the world has become both brighter and less burdensome” (26).

All art (ancient and modern): “some reflective and intellectual accomplishment involved” (28). “we take the construction of the work upon ourselves as a task” (28).

“What is presented to the senses is seen and taken as something…’aesthetic non-differentiation’…cooperative play between imagination and understanding…a free play and not directed towards a concept…free play between the faculties of imagination and conceptual understanding” (29). (not natural imitation)

“in the experience of art we must learn how to dwell upon the work in a specific way. When we dwell upon the work, there is no tedium involved, for the longer we allow ourselves, the more it displays its manifold riches to us. The essence of our temporal experience of art is in l earning how to tarry in this way. And perhaps it is the only way that is granted to us finite beings to relate to what we call eternity” (45).

9. Purpose of aesthetics: [#8 above: explain relation between work and audience and why that is relevant/important]
Baumgarten:
“recognized for the first time the experience of art and beauty as a philosophical question in its own right…its does not simply express a subjective reaction of taste” (18)…

[the purpose of aesthetics is to supply an answer to the question of what is relevant about the fact that] cognitio sensitiva means that in the apparent particularity of sensuous experience, which we always attempt to relate to the universal, there is something in our experience of the beautiful that arrests us and compels us to dwell upon the individual appearance itself” (16).

aesthetics is “the art of thinking beautifully;’ anology with the ‘art of speaking well’ or rhetoric. “Rhetoric is the universal form of human communication, which even today determines our social life in an incomparably more profound fashion than does science” (17).

10. Art and nature:
“ we learn how to perceive beauty in nature under the guidance of the artist’s eye and his works” [agrees with Hegel] (31)

Kant “creationist theology” led to a view of natural beauty; Gadamer: natural beauty is indeterminate, an indeterminate feeling of solitude; we see nature through culture

Modern landscapes are symbolic and intended to be; art is symbolic, not imitative

11. Art and culture:
Aesthetic experience is uniquely human, beyond nature (#10 above). Festivals.

Aesthetics is a kind of rhetoric which has an effect on culture:
aesthetics is “the art of thinking beautifully;’ anology with the ‘art of speaking well’ or rhetoric. “Rhetoric is the universal form of human communication, which even today determines our social life in an incomparably more profound fashion than does science” (17).

12. Art and science:
“Kant’s definition of the autonomy of the aesthetic, in relation to practical reason on the one hand and theoretical reason on the other” (19).
Art: sensuous cognition vs. rational cognition

13. Art and politics/community
Earlier: art had a place in society, reinforced collective worldview; now-pluralism:
19th century artist seen as a social outsider; a new savior, rejected bourgeois religion and ritual expression; new kind of solidarity and communication.

“A festival is an experience of community and represents community in its most perfect form. A festival is meant for everyone” (39).

[there are] Two fundamental ways of experiencing time…These two extremes of bustle and boredom both represent time in the same way: we fill out time with something or we have nothing to do…There is…a totally different experience of time…’fulfilled’ or ‘autonomous’ time…the festival fulfills every moment of its duration…” (42).

14. Art and religion: we don’t use the word the same way anymore; no relation
Art and philosophy: art reveals being
Art rejects bourgeois religion and empty ritual observation

15. Art and education or manipulation:
Art as play: [anthropological foundation/justification] elemental, free impulse, repeated movement, no goal, leeway, self-motion is basic to human nature; self-representation, human impose self-discipline and order when playing, reason set rules with no ultimate purpose (23)

Relation between work of art and audience is a kind of free play of the imagination and “aesthetic nondifferentiation” done without practical purpose but which reveals something of being in the process (see above, #8)

“we have seen play’s excess to be not only the real ground of our creative production and reception of art, but also the more profound anthropological dimension that bestows permanence. This is the unique character of human play and of the play of art in particular, distinguishing it from all other forms of play in the realm of nature” (47).

Art as symbol: example: Aristophanes’ speech in Symposium
Greeks: recognize something already known (something broken, halves brought back together after a period of time)

“The work of art compels us to recognize this fact. ‘There is no place which fails to see you. You must change your life.’ The peculiar nature of our experience of art lies in the impact by which it overwhelms us…The symbolic does not simply point toward a meaning, but rather allows that meaning to present itself. The symbolic represents meaning”(34).

“the symbol allows us to recognize something…Recognition means knowing something as that with which we are already acquainted…Recognition always implies that we have come to know something more authentically than we were able to do when caught up in our first encounter with it. Recognition elicits the permanent from the transient. It is the proper function of the symbol and of the symbolic content of the language of art in general to accomplish this.

16. Art and ethics: Is the increase in being, unconcealing, etc. either positively good or
else never evil? Could this theory be used by a sophist/used to justify irrational motives, such as Naziism?

17. Art and reason: Accepts Kant’s distinctions and definition of reason

18. Art and emotion: sensuous cognition: a deeper level of perception; festivals unite
people, different foundation for community; not much discussion of any specific emotions, i.e. pride, greed, lust, sloth, envy, anger, gluttony/drunkenness.
Play is pleasant, even necessary to maintain a balanced life, but no theory of emotion

19. Art and psychology: Blank slate/historicist consciousness such as Hegel’s, or a
theory of unchanging aspects of consciousness which is what is recognized and brought back together through symbols? Needs more explanation; non-trivial.

20. Art and truth: art unconceals Being, which would imply it is a way to increase
Being, hence increase truth and meaning. But how can one tell if it is increasing a capacity for good or evil? What is real Being vs. unreal Being?

21. Aesthetic experience vs. all other kinds of experience: (see above)

Does he leave himself open for misunderstanding?
Do modern artists have to work on their souls in order to maintain the ability to create meaningful works of art which reveal being? Or do they focus on the effects of their works on audiences, and from where do they get any notion of what sort of effects they should have on audiences other than whatever comes to mind, or whatever elicits the most extreme response? How can this theory avoid exhibitionism among artists?

Compare to Collingwood as the foundation from which we went through the texts in the first half of the class. Gadamer’s essay brings up the major issues, positions and problems of modern art and modern aesthetics.

2008. október 18., szombat

Moshe David Herr, GENESIS RABBAH

Title
The earlier title of the Midrash was apparently Bereshit de-Rabbi Oshaya Rabbah (Genesis of R. Oshaya Rabbah) so named after its opening sentence, "R. Oshaya Rabbah took up the text..." (Gen. R. 1:1), this being later abbreviated to Genesis Rabbah. It has however been suggested that it was so called in order to distinguish it from the biblical Book of Genesis of which it is an expansion (rabbah means "great").
Structure
Genesis Rabbah is an exegetical Midrash which gives a consecutive exposition of the Book of Genesis, chapter by chapter, verse by verse, and often even word for word. It is a compilation of varying expositions, assembled by the editor of the Midrash. The work is divided into 101 sections (according to the superior manuscript, which is in the Vatican library; other manuscripts and the printed versions have minor variations in the number of sections). Often the division into sections was fixed according to the open and closed paragraphs of the Torah (see Masorah), and at times according to the triennial cycle of the weekly readings in the Torah in Erez Israel which had been customary in earlier times. All of the sections, with seven exceptions, are introduced by one or several proems, one section having as many as nine. The total for the entire work is 246. The proems are of the classical type common to amoraic Midrashim, opening with an extraneous verse which is then connected with the verse expounded at the beginning of the section. Most (199) of the proems in Genesis Rabbah are based on verses from the Hagiographa (principally Psalms and Proverbs), only a small number being from the Prophets (37) and the Pentateuch (10). The proems are largely anonymous and in most instances commence without any of the conventional introductory formulae or termini technici. Those that are ascribed to the authors are mostly amoraic, only two being tannaitic. Generally, the sections have no formal ending, but some conclude with the verse with which the following section begins, thus providing a transition. On rare occasions the ending carries a message of consolation. Characteristic of Genesis Rabbah, as of the other early amoraic Midrashim, tannaitic literature, and the two Talmuds, are its repetitions. An exposition or story is often transferred in the Midrash where an expression appears in more than one context.
Language
The language of Genesis Rabbah closely resembles that of the Jerusalem Talmud. It is mostly written in mishnaic Hebrew with some Galilean Aramaic. The latter is used especially for the stories and parables, in which many Greek terms and expressions are also interspersed.
The Redaction of the Midrash
In the early Middle Ages, some scholars ascribed the work to the author of the opening proem of the Midrash, Oshaya, of the first generation of Palestinian amoraim. The fact, however, that Genesis Rabbah mentions the last group of Palestinian amoraim who flourished in the second half of the fourth century C.E. (about 150 years after Oshaya) shows this ascription to be erroneous.
The editor used early Aramaic and Greek translations of the Bible (the translation of Aquila is quoted three times in the Midrash), but was unacquainted with Targum Onkelos on the Pentateuch, which was edited apparently in the fifth century C.E. He used the Mishnah and the beraitot, but not the Tosefta, the extant Midreshei halakhah, or Avot de-Rabbi Nathan, these having been unknown to him, as was Seder Olam Rabbah. Although there are many parallel passages in Genesis Rabbah and the Jerusalem Talmud, a careful examination reveals that the latter was not the source of the former. The aggadot which occur in both Genesis Rabbah and the Jerusalem Talmud were sometimes derived from earlier common sources (probably from oral traditions). The halakhot in Genesis Rabbah were either incorporated in the aggadot in the earlier sources or originated close to the period of the Mishnah, in which case they were derived from an edition of the Jerusalem Talmud different from the extant one, but which was also redacted and arranged not later than 425 C.E. Genesis Rabbah, too, was apparently edited at about the same time. On the basis of its language, of the names of sages mentioned in it (most of whom were Palestinian amoraim), and of various historical allusions, it is clear that the work was edited in Erez Israel. Genesis Rabbah is thus the earliest amoraic aggadic Midrash extant; it is also the largest and the most important. The other amoraic aggadic Midrashim, including Leviticus Rabbah and Lamentations Rabbah, already made use of it. The first explicit reference to the work, however, occurs in Halakhot Gedolot.
The editor drew upon both written and oral sources. Ben (or Bar) Sira is mentioned four times in Genesis Rabbah, on one occasion being introduced by the phrase, "As it is written in the book of Ben Sira" (Gen. R. 91:4). Genesis Rabbah contains many aggadot which also occur in the other Apocrypha, the Pseudepigrapha, and in the works of Philo and Josephus. No conclusions, however, are to be drawn from this regarding any relation between Genesis Rabbah and these works, it being highly probable that they drew upon a common source or early oral traditions. In addition, aggadot and ideas from Jewish-Hellenistic literature often reached the sages through indirect channels. In addition to amoraic statements, Genesis Rabbah naturally contains much tannaitic aggadic material. Having assembled all of this material, the editor arranged it according to the order of the verses in the Book of Genesis, abbreviating, or modifying as he saw fit.
Later Additions
In Genesis Rabbah there are several parts (in 75, 84, 88, 91, 93, 95ff.) whose language, style, and exegetical character do not form an integral part of the original Midrash but are later additions. In most manuscripts the original expositions on the end of the pentateuchal portion of Va-Yiggash and the beginning of that of Va-Yehi are omitted and replaced by others of later origin and which belong to a type of Tanhuma Yelammedenu Midrash.
Editions
Genesis Rabbah was first published in Constantinople in 1512 together with four other Midrashim on the other books of the Pentateuch, though these latter have nothing in common, as regards style and date of editing, with Genesis Rabbah. This edition and Midrashim on the five scrolls (which were previously published separately) were reprinted in Venice in 1545 and reissued several times.
Genesis Rabbah has appeared in a scholarly, critical edition based on manuscripts and containing variant textual readings and comprehensive commentary. This edition is one of the finest such works of modern rabbinic scholarship. It was begun by J. Theodor in 1903 and completed in 1936 by H. Albeck, who also wrote the introduction. From the numerous manuscripts at his disposal, Theodor chose the London manuscript, written about the middle of the 12th century. Careful examination of the manuscripts by Albeck, however, established the manuscript Vatican 30, copied in the 11th century, as superior. The London manuscript is probably a later formulation of the same tradition recorded in the Vatican manuscript. This conclusion has been subsequently confirmed by Y. Kutscher'sr linguistic studies of the Vatican manuscript which have shown it to represent an accurate archetype of Galilean Aramaic. Genesis Rabbah was translated into English in the Soncino series by M. Friedman (1939).
[Moshe David Herr]

2008. szeptember 3., szerda

Alexander Carlebach, HOMILETIC LITERATURE

The scope of this article extends from the Middle Ages to modern times (for the talmudic period see Midrash, Aggadah, and Preaching) and deals with the nature of the homily and works in the sphere of homiletic literature. For a discussion of the history and art of preaching see Preaching.
Middle Ages
DEVELOPMENT
Medieval Hebrew homiletic literature was not a direct continuation of the homiletic literature of the midrashic-talmudic period. Contemporaneous social and cultural conditions were basic to its development. Medieval homiletic forms therefore vary in many aspects from those of the older homiletic literature, though in some respects it is still in the tradition of the Midrash. The darshan (preacher) might have considered the midrashic form ideal but it no longer answered medieval needs.
With the exception of the great corpus of halakhic writings, homiletic literature is the richest and most extensive medieval literary form. Collections of sermons are found in the wealth of works written by rabbis throughout the Middle Ages. The homily was central to both Eastern and Western Jewries, and was used also in philosophical and kabbalistic literature. Homiletic literature appealed to all social and intellectual levels, and persons from different stations in life perpetuated it. Financially, some preachers were only slightly better off than the kabzanim (itinerant beggars) and wandered from one small town to the next to preach for a very small fee. Others were among those rabbis who achieved great fame, wealth, and influence. While the Middle Ages produced comprehensive collections of homilies centered on accepted Jewish norms, the sermon was also a means through which profound and revolutionary medieval ideas were introduced into Judaism.
Homiletic literature, a genre within ethical literature, mainly aims to educate the public toward moral and religious behavior in everyday life and during times of crisis. It differs from other ethical literary forms in that it appeals directly to its audience. It is in fact a product of the direct confrontation between the public and the teacher and has therefore a much more immediate effect. During the Middle Ages, the sermon exerted great influence on Jewish ideology and historical development; it was the most effective tool in forging abstract ideas into a historical force. Homiletic literature is also the most continous and widespread form of ethical literature. There is hardly a Jewish community in Eastern Europe or the East which from the 16th century did not produce preachers whose sermons were written down and often printed. Since the 12th century, with the exception of halakhic writings, homiletic literature is the only Hebrew literary form to enjoy uninterrupted development.
FUNCTION
For the medieval listener the homily fulfilled the functions of a newspaper, the theater, the television and radio, a good work of fiction, didactic writings, and political treatises. A good sermon had to be informative, educational, and entertaining. It served as a platform to disseminate information and news, whether local or of distant lands. To the listener the sermon was also a behavioral guide for every situation with which he might be confronted. At the same time, however, he enjoyed it from an artistic point of view. The art of rhetoric, which flourished during the Middle Ages, found its keenest expression in the sermon. As far as may be discerned from extant medieval literary documents, the medieval listener reacted to the preacher first and foremost as an artist, and judged the sermon aesthetically: the didactic and informative elements were secondary. It is, however, difficult to evaluate the role of rhetoric in the medieval sermons at hand since the aesthetic value of their rhetoric can only be fully appreciated in the oral form. The sermon which was committed to writing either by the preacher or his disciples usually concentrated on didactic elements rather than on the rhetorical and artistic techniques used in the oral presentation. The vast body of extant homiletic works, either in printed form or in manuscripts, should therefore be seen only as the partial realization of a literary form, rather than its fullest aesthetic expression.
TRADITIONAL FORM OF THE HOMILY
The traditionality inherent in homiletic literature made it a popular form of education and artistic enjoyment. The listeners were at least partially acquainted with the vast body of homiletic works which tradition had bequeathed to medieval Jewish society and on which the preacher drew. The great rabbis who had formulated the halakhah had also dealt with homiletics. Their homiletic sayings, and occasionally parts of their sermons, are incorporated in talmudic and midrashic literature which every medieval Jew studied. Knowledge of homiletic literature was regarded as one of the highest social and cultural virtues. No other medieval literary form, except the halakhah, was held in such high esteem. The medieval darshan was seen as a descendant of the sages of the Midrash (an integral part of the Mishnah and the Talmud) and his role was therefore hallowed by tradition. The traditionality in homiletics has its roots not only in the history of the Jewish homily but is based on the inner character of the Hebrew sermon. Homiletic literature is essentially a traditionalistic art form where ancient and holy texts are the point of departure for a discussion of contemporary problems, thus showing that the old tradition is relevant to contemporary times.
In midrashic literature, it is frequently difficult to distinguish between exegesis and homiletics. The point of distinction between these two literary forms is the inclination of the writer: if he is primarily concerned with the ancient text, the work will be regarded as exegetical; but if he focuses mainly on contemporary problems (if it is in the form of a sermon) it will be regarded as homiletic. Hardly any ancient homiletic works are fully extant, and those on hand are compiled according to the biblical verses they dwell upon. It would therefore seem that for the medieval reader ancient homiletic writings assumed the appearance of exegetical works, even though he knew them to be sermons, and homiletic in character. As a result the medieval darshan was regarded not only as a preacher, but also as the disciple of the ancient sages whose exegesis of the Bible was accepted as the one and true interpretation. The confusion between medieval exegesis and homiletics is underscored by the fact that to the Jew of the Middle Ages all of talmudic-midrashic literature, as well as the Bible, was considered holy and to be used as a starting point of a sermon. (This fact is essential to the understanding of medieval homiletic literature.) Accordingly, medieval sermons frequently do not start with a biblical verse, but with a talmudic saying (e.g., in the homiletic works of Judah Loew b. Bezalel of Prague, the Ma-Ha-Ra-L), which the darshan interprets to suit his homiletic purpose. In most medieval Hebrew homiletical works, the interpretation of biblical verses and rabbinic sayings are interwoven in the fabric of the sermon and the medieval darshanim repeatedly showed that the same meaning was hidden within the words of these two ancient literatures. Jewish and Christian sermons differ in many respects, the most important being the attitude of the preacher toward his chosen text. The Christian sermon usually starts with a verse from the Bible, followed by a lecture whose style and form are in accordance with classical rhetoric, especially that of the Latin rhetoricians. While the Christian sermon tries to show a close connection between the meaning of the biblical verse and the lecture, it seldom gives an interpretation of the actual words, probably because the preacher did not take the verse from an original text, but from a translation. Thus the Christian sermon is not exegetical in character. The Jewish sermon, however, primarily attempts an accurate verbal interpretation of the biblical verse or rabbinic saying and to convince the listeners that it is the only true interpretation, farfetched though it may seem. The preacher is required in his sermon to prove that his understanding of the Hebrew text is linguistically correct, or at least possible. Thus the Jewish darshan closely relates to the ancient text while the Christian preacher, because of the linguistic barrier, is further removed.
The medieval Hebrew sermon drew on the Midrash for most of its literary devices and, like the ancient Hebrew homily, was filled to overflowing with verses and sayings. One of the main aims of the darshan was to make his idea the dominant concept in the sermon and to show through numerous quotations that it is frequently found in the ancient tradition. It was customary to cite or quote the Bible to which the darshan would add at least two rabbinic sayings to substantiate his argument. The biblical and rabbinic references formed one section of the homily and were aimed at showing one particular detail of the whole thesis of the darshan. It created the impression that the sermon was entirely within the traditional Jewish context and that nothing new had been said in the derashah; that the darshan had merely expressed and emphasized in a new form certain ideas imbedded in the ancient texts which were really well-known to the public. Even philosophers, kabbalists, Shabbateans, and Hasidim couched their most revolutionary ideas in traditional terminology and delivered sermons whose language was readily acceptable to their listeners. Homiletics thus helped to smooth the way for the introduction of new ideas into traditional Judaism. Moreover, homiletics was the great popularizing agent in Hebrew literature, for the appearance of a new idea in a homily helped to gain it widespread acceptance.
HOMILETICS AND ETHICAL LITERATURE
Medieval homiletic literature was an integral part of Hebrew ethical literature and some of the most important ethical works were written in the form of homilies, e.g., Hegyon ha-Nefesh by Abraham bar Hiyya (12th century Spain); Kad Ha-Kemah by Bahya b. Asher b. Hlava (late 13th century). In addition, important innovations in ethical theory, ideas of Judah Loew b. Bezalel, Ephraim Solomon ben Aaron of Luntschitz, and the ethical formulations of the hasidic movement, were first expressed in homiletic form. There is a close relationship between homiletics and ethics in that both aimed at teaching the community new moral and theological ideas through aesthetic means. In both forms new ideas were expressed in a traditionalistic manner, though the sermon could generally do this far better than the ethical treatise. The darshan drew on all earlier respected sources, of which the best known and most widely read were to be found in ethical literature in general, and in earlier homiletic literature in particular. Thus during the Middle Ages and early modern period the literary treasure-house on which the preacher drew for his quotations grew from generation to generation. Continually quoted were the homilies of Maimonides, Saadiah b. Joseph Gaon, Jonah b. Abraham Gerondi, Nahmanides, Bahya b. Joseph ibn Paquda, the Zohar, Moses Alshekh, Solomon b. Moses Alkabez, Judah Loew b. Bezalel, and Moses Hayyim b. Luzzatto. The darshan even drew upon the sayings of writers whose outlook was different from his own. Thus Bahya b. Joseph ibn Paquda, a philosopher and rationalist, was quoted by kabbalists, rabbinical thinkers, and Hasidim who essentially disagreed with his main ideas, as well as by preachers who shared his philosophical views. At a time when a biblical verse could be interpreted in as many ways as the preacher wished, it was usual for statements by early medieval thinkers to be taken out of context and brought as proof of an idea which that thinker would not have accepted. The phenomenon is undoubtedly part of the traditionalistic character of the homily which utilized all Jewish literature and thought as legitimate sources to substantiate its validity. Even ancient ideological conflicts were forgotten so that the preacher might use the sayings of both sides to demonstrate his own concept which might differ from either earlier theory. In relation to the homily, Judaism was ideologically unified in support of the ideas of the preacher. Homiletic literature has served an important role in the history of Jewish thought. It helped to mitigate the sharpness of ideological conflict and change, and to form a body of accepted, traditional or pseudo-traditional ideas common to all Jews. Often ideas and books rejected either by most Jews or all were reinterpreted in a homiletical way which enabled them to remain within the fabric of Jewish culture. Thus homiletics was instrumental in making Jewish medieval culture a continuous whole.
Structure of Sermon
The Hebrew sermon in medieval and early modern times was not constructed as a single homiletic entity. The preacher divided the homily into two parts, the "large" sermon and the "small," each requiring its own norms, formulas, and artistic values. The "large" sermon comprised the overall structure of the homily, which was usually based upon either a verse or verses from the weekly portion of the Torah, one of the festivals, a marriage, bar mitzvah or commemoration of the death of a communal leader or a famous rabbi. The sermon was regarded as an artistic unit with a beginning, middle, and end, whose structure was influenced by the accepted rhetorical norms of the time. It usually took about a half hour to deliver, which in print covers from five to ten pages. The second part of the sermon, the "small" homiletic unit—the derush—is the basic element from which the sermon was constructed. The derush, toward which the preacher directed most of his creative capacity, has no exact parallel in the Christian or Muslim sermon. Essentially exegetical in character, the derush was derived from the ancient Midrash. Whereas the "large" homiletic unit was didactic, either moralistic or ideological, the "small" unit was exegetic—an independent homily on a biblical verse or a talmudic saying. The artistic unity of the sermon depended upon the ability of the preacher to weave a long series of derushim into a whole. The methods used to construct the derush were largely influenced by midrashic literature. Preachers did not try to reveal the simple meaning of the biblical verse, but rather to show that the verse contained unimagined depths, open to multiple interpretation. Medieval preachers, unlike midrashic sages, used grammatical and linguistic methods not to discover the true meaning of the language, but to find an exegesis suitable to their didactic and homiletical purposes. Similarly, other methods, especially the various forms of gematria and notarikon, were used to prove that the verse under consideration had meanings unconnected to the literal meaning of its words. After the 16th century (see below) such methods became paramount, preachers drawing further away from the simple, literal meaning of their chosen texts.
Preachers and listeners, however, knew and regarded the literal meaning of the ancient texts. But listeners did not come to the derashah for an exegesis of the Bible in order to understand it better. That could be accomplished at home by studying well-known biblical and talmudic commentaries. It was expected that the derashah would show the contemporary relevance of the ancient texts. Further, the derashah was expected to be an artistic performance where seemingly unconnected ideas were suddenly shown to be related. It was accepted that the exegetical part of the sermon was, to some extent, a verbal game at which the preacher had to prove his mastery. He could, therefore, use any means of exegesis justified by tradition. In a sense, then, the congregation did not necessarily "believe" the darshan's exegesis, but they enjoyed listening to it unfold.
During the Renaissance some preachers read Cicero and other, usually Latin, classical writers and the "large" sermon, or the derashah as a whole, absorbed certain classical rhetorical teachings. For example, the structure of the homily was divided into an introduction, a thesis and its development, and a conclusion. But the impact of classical writers upon the Hebrew homily was slight and superficial, the predominant influence remaining the midrashic tradition. Because classical rhetorical theory offered no methods for adhering closely to an ancient text, which was the basis of the Hebrew sermon, the Hebrew homily developed independently, although other parts of Hebrew literature accepted forms and structural ideas from non-Jewish sources. The classical speeches of Cicero and others could not replace the sermon from Leviticus Rabbah as the ideal. However, when Jews preached in other languages, in Italian for instance, they used classical rhetorical forms extensively. Similarly, the modern Jewish sermon in German, English, or French is not essentially different in form from Christian sermons in those languages. Only in languages other than Hebrew did Jewish preachers share significantly the more universal norms of classical rhetoric.
Aesthetics of Sermon
The artistic value of the sermon was based upon one rhetorical device: surprise, universally employed by Hebrew homilists throughout the Middle Ages. But the element of surprise was difficult to achieve. On the one hand, the texts used by the Hebrew homilist were well-known to his listeners, who were usually able to recite verses by heart and were familiar with the talmudic and midrashic sayings. (The opposite was true of medieval Christians who were usually ignorant of both the Old and New Testaments.) On the other hand, the didactic content of the sermon could not be startlingly new. Moralistic preaching intended to reprove the listeners and guide them toward correct behavior but did not reveal any ideas unknown to the community. Preachers who used new theological ideas, philosophical or kabbalistic, did not present them as novel, but rather as traditional ideas found in the ancient literature and used by former teachers and homilists. Yet surprise was the element the preacher strove to achieve in his homily; it was also what the congregation expected, and the basis on which his artistic prowess was assessed. Surprise was achieved in only one way: by creating an unexpected connection between the text and the theme of the sermon. In a good sermon, the well-known text was revealed in a totally new light. That every listener knew the preacher's text, its context, its accepted interpretation, and usually the main commentaries, and some of its aggadic and midrashic exegesis, actually served the preacher's artistic method. Interest in the sermon was created by the fact that the listeners were anxious to learn what the preacher saw in verses whose interpretation they already knew. The artistry of the preacher was revealed in demonstrating that the text had unsuspected depths, and that it could be connected to the theme of the sermon, though initially there had apparently been no link between them.
The method of surprise was practiced in different ways. If the sermon was dedicated to Hanukkah, for example, the preacher quoted a text in which there was no mention of anything connected with that holiday. Then he would proceed to prove that the text was directly connected with the occasion, thus surprising the audience with his homiletical artistry. Another practice, common in the opening of ancient homilies, was to cite two texts or two verses which seemed to have nothing in common, and which were far removed from the thesis of the sermon, and to demonstrate their unsuspected connection.
This technique was utilized throughout the homily. Often a preacher quoted a text, explained it in a surprising manner, then, seemingly forgetting it, he treated other texts only to unexpectedly show their relationship to the first text. The skillful darshan, who revealed surprising meaning within an ancient text, used the text as a unifying theme throughout the sermon. The method outlined above achieved the following: it brought the sacred text to life and proved it to be relevant to contemporary circumstances and problems; it enabled the preacher to extricate new ideas from the ancient texts; it gave unity to the sermon, enabling the listeners to remember its main points; and, above all—the artfulness of the preacher was a source of enjoyment to the congregation.
Although the artistic ideal discussed above was seldom achieved, most preachers attempted some approximation of it. Often the intensity of the didactic motive within the sermon and the preacher prevented this ideal from being realized. In fact, the artistic development of the sermon diminished as the didactic intensity of the preacher increased. When angered by some breach in moral behavior, the preacher devoted himself to correcting that evil and gave little attention to artistic considerations. Rather the preacher quoted text after text, each clearly related to the moral problem at hand; the demand for clarity superseding the demand for artistry. Similarly, when the preacher was teaching a philosophical idea unfamiliar to his listeners he presented texts which directly and literally proved his thesis. Only when the didactic impulse was not so strong was the artistic element allowed to shape the sermon.
The aesthetic element in the medieval sermon is not always obvious to the modern reader, principally because of the special cultural tradition shared by the preacher and his listeners. The preacher expressed his ideas in the form most understandable to a specific community at a specific time in its history. Thus, the modern reader finds it difficult to follow gematriyya'ot, which were commonplace to the medieval listener. The more intense the cultural tradition within a certain community, the more difficult it is for outsiders to follow the artistry of the preacher.
Some rhetorical devices used by most preachers were not deleted even when a powerful didactic tension existed between the preacher and his listeners. Such devices included the classical rhetorical techniques of ethical literature like the story, the fable, the joke, and the epigram. However, the aesthetic value of the medieval sermon rested mainly on the element of surprise.
Another important reason why the rhetorical artistry of the medieval homily remains obscure to the modern reader is that few sermons of that period have survived in the form in which they were delivered. The process of committing a sermon to writing usually resulted in changing its structure and even its purpose. In a written sermon, and more so in a printed one, the content was not confined to an immediate problem of interest only to one community. In writing down his sermon the preacher gave the problems wider meaning and a more general applicability, but at the cost of losing the immediacy of impact of the oral version. Obviously, in a written sermon most of the rhetorical devices lose much of their effect. Because a book must be written in a form that bears repeated reading, the element of surprise, the most important rhetorical device of the oral sermon, was superfluous and meaningless. Accordingly, it is impossible to judge the artistry of the oral sermon by those which have come down to us in writing.
In writing down their sermons, some preachers remained relatively faithful to the original texts delivered orally. Others departed so completely from the oral form that the written sermon is almost a different work. Most of the sermons that survive are between these two types, i.e., they preserve the main elements of the oral form but have lost their original structure, rhetorical devices, and special didactic themes. Many ancient homiletic works did not reach the Middle Ages in their original form, but were arranged in an exegetical manner where each verse is explained. Medieval writers followed the tradition of the ancient sages and left a large body of literature whose character is somewhere between the homiletic and the exegetic. This category includes some of the most significant medieval works, such as those of Isaac b. Moses Arama in Spain, Moses Alshekh and Solomon Alkabez in Safed, and Judah Loew b. Bezalel of Prague. Medieval homiletic literature falls into two groups: that based upon oral preaching, and that based purely upon written exegesis. The major distinction is that exegetic works comment successively upon every verse without establishing a connection between the commentaries. Homiletic exegesis chooses problems from the Torah and comments upon them at length. This selectivity of both text and theme separates homiletic works from purely exegetic works. Homilies such as these, however, have little to do with oral preaching and rhetorical art.
History
No other body of Hebrew literature has received so little attention from modern scholars as homiletic literature. There is not even a comprehensive study of the field; and only a few critical editions of important works exist. Most homiletic works remain in manuscript, and those that were printed lack scholarly bibliography. There are very few studies of individual homilists, biographically or bibliographically. At present it is therefore impossible to give a detailed history of the Hebrew homily. Nevertheless a rough outline is possible.
In the early Middle Ages oral homilies were delivered, but preachers usually did not write down their sermons, which were thereby lost. During the gaonic period, vast literary work was done in homiletics, but as a continuation of early midrashic literature. Most of the extant midrashic works were compiled during that period, with medieval editors adding new material to the old. A few such works are Exodus Rabbah, Numbers Rabba, Genesis Rabbati, Midrash ha-Gadol, and later, anthologies like the famous Yalkut Shimoni. Some original works, for example Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer, were written in a manner similar to the ancient homiletic tradition. Apparently, during this period rearranging and editing old homiletic material was a sufficient substitute for creative work, at least in the area of writing.
The first example of original medieval homiletic work is found in She'iltot by Aha of Shabha. Modern studies have shown this to be a collection of homilies, delivered orally and then written down, whose main aim was halakhic elucidation but which also dealt with aggadic, moral, and ethical problems. She'iltot has a definite rhetorical structure, based upon a thesis, a question, an answer, an exposition, and a conclusion. This literature flourished in Babylonia in the gaonic period, and was transmitted to Palestine. She'iltot was translated or edited from the Aramaic into Hebrew in the form of the Sefer ve-Hizhir (1880), which may also be only a surviving remnant of a greater body of homiletic literature.
In Europe the growth of homiletic literature proper (excluding editing of old midrashic material) is closely connected with the flourishing of Jewish philosophy. The first such homiletic work extant is Abraham bar Hiyya's Hegyon ha-Nefesh, a collection of four sermons, whose common theme is repentance. Abraham bar Hiyya was followed by Jacob Anatoli and other philosophical homilists who created a school of homilists that continued to develop until the expulsion of the Jews from Spain (Isaac Arama, the author of Akedat Yizhak, being one of the last of this school). The philosophical homilist faced a new series of problems, i.e., the formulation of a homiletic connection between biblical verses, whose simple meaning he could not accept, and philosophical ideas, derived from Plato or Aristotle, which have no basis in the Bible. The artistry of the philosophical homilist was demonstrated when he succeeded in proving that seemingly foreign philosophical ideas, if interpreted in the right homiletic manner, have a basis in the Scriptures.
At about the same time, another school of homilists was developing among the Hasidei Ashkenaz in Germany. Sefer Hasidim, the main ethical work of this movement, contains hundreds of long and short homilies on ethical themes, extensively used by subsequent moralists and homilists, first in Germany and then in Safed and in Eastern Europe. The esoteric theological literature of this movement also contains much homiletic material. However, the main contribution of the Hasidei Ashkenaz to Hebrew homiletics was the formulation of hermeneutical methods of homiletic interpretation of verses from the Bible, prayers, and piyyutim. These methods, based upon study of the letters in each section of the sacred literature, checking their meaning in notarikon and counting their numerical value, among dozens of other devices, served the later Hebrew homilists especially in Eastern Europe.
To a large extent kabbalistic literature was also based on homiletic works. Some, like the Zohar and the Sefer ha-Bahir, were pseudepigraphical and written in the manner of early midrashim. In these works medieval homiletics were expressed in the language of the tannaitic period. However, some kabbalists, like Bahya ben Asher in his homiletic exegesis of the Torah, also developed contemporary homiletics, using the accepted medieval norms. Many kabbalists, for example, Nahmanides and Bahya b. Asher in Kad ha-Kemah, also wrote quasi-rabbinic sermons in which they did not reveal, or did not stress, their kabbalistic teachings. Kabbalistic homiletic literature penetrated to new depths the symbolic significance of the ancient texts and later generations have made use of their hermeneutical methods.
One of the peaks in the development of Hebrew homiletic literature was reached in Italy during the Renaissance and the 17th century. Some of the greatest Hebrew homilists—Judah Moscato, Azariah Figo, Leone of Modena—lived in those periods. The general cultural atmosphere and the influence of classical Latin rhetoric on Jewish scholars in Italy encouraged preachers to devote more thought to the aesthetic aspects of the homily. Ideological controversies and moral admonishing were transmuted by a new concentration on the beauty of the sermon. All of the methods developed earlier—including those of the kabbalists—were used in a new and more aesthetic way. Nevertheless, this influence was not very great because the major source of 16th century Hebrew homiletic literature was Safed.
After the expulsion from Spain, new centers of Jewish learning were established in other countries, especially Turkey (Salonika, Smyrna) and Palestine. In these areas homiletic literature was infused with new vigor; and the foundation for later and even modern homiletics was laid. Most of the important preachers were of the school of Joseph Taitazak, and the most important among them was Moses Alshekh. In his monumental collection of homilies, Moses treated every portion of the Torah in depth, raising numerous homiletical problems and developing exemplary literary homilies about each portion. Other writers in Safed, among them Solomon Alkabez, contributed to the city's fame as a homiletical center. During this period in the Ottoman Empire in general and Salonika, Smyrna, and Safed in particular, there was also an increase in the quantity of creative work in homiletics. Eastern Europe, although the population center of Jewry and soon to be the cultural center as well, came completely under the influence of the East. Many works of the hundreds of preachers in the East were lost or remained in manuscripts, but those which survived became the major source for later Hebrew homilists.
During the 17th and 18th centuries, homiletics became the most developed branch of Jewish literature with the exception of halakhic writings. The number of homiletic collections compiled at this time probably reached into the thousands. All ideological conflicts of the period were recorded, or sometimes initiated, in the works of great writers and socially sensitive men like Judah Loew b. Bezalel or Ephraim Solomon ben Aaron of Luntschitz. The Shabbatean movement also produced homiletic literature; in fact, some of the greatest homiletic works of the period were written by believers in Shabbetai Zevi who only hinted at this belief in their writings. Among them were Elijah ha-Kohen of Smyrna (Shevet Musar), Jonathan Eybeschuetz, and the anonymous author of the important collection, Hemdat Yamim, one of the period's best homiletic works in Hebrew.
Hasidic literature of the 18th and 19th centuries is, from the point of view of literary forms, a direct continuation of the homiletic literature produced in Eastern Europe by preceding generations. Like most homiletic works, hasidic homilies are kabbalistic in ideology and moralistic in expression. Hasidism, however, is the only religious movement in Judaism which made homiletic literature its dominant, and for a long time, almost exclusive means of expression. Few hasidic works were written as ethical works, and since 1815 some collections of stories are found in hasidic literature; but collections of homilies were the only writings produced by early and most important hasidic teachers—Jacob Joseph of Polonnoye, Dov Baer of Mezhirich, Levi Isaac of Berdichev, Elimelech of Lyzhansk, Nahman of Bratslav, and even Shneur Zalman of Lyady (whose Tanya is written in the manner of an ethical book). In the court of the hasidic rabbi, the Sabbath sermon acquired new importance because it became the rabbi's chief means of teaching the theology of the new movement to his disciples. Studying the homiletic teachings of the rabbi became in some cases more important than the study of halakhah. Even today, hasidic rabbis publish their teachings in the form of homilies.
[Joseph Dan]

Modern Period
The modern sermon, traditional derashah, has a tendency to find its way into print, though by definition its efficacy lay in the spoken word. Not only did preachers themselves publish their sermons, but also relatives, friends, and admirers frequently did so as an act of posthumous respect, accompanied by the apologetic statement "by public demand." Sometimes sermons were published by listeners who wrote out from memory sermons they had heard. The sermon stands midway between the derashah and the lecture, the dividing line, particularly in their published form, not always being very clear. As with the derashah, sermonic literature can be an important source for the social and religious history of a given period.
HISTORY
Modern homiletic literature begins in the 19th century (see Preaching), but its antecedents lie in the 17th and 18th centuries. Refugees from Spain and Portugal brought with them to Amsterdam, London, Hamburg, Bordeaux, Bayonne and elsewhere a tradition of sermons in the vernacular—probably influenced by the Church (see the bibliography of Spanish and Portuguese sermons in M. Kayserling's supplements to his Bibliothek juedischer Kanzelredner, 1870–72, 2 vols.; C. Roth, Mag. Bibl. 322 ff.). In the 18th century sermons delivered in synagogues on patriotic occasions were usually published, some of them in translation from the original Hebrew or Yiddish. Moses Mendelssohn wrote the sermon which David Fraenkel delivered in Berlin on the occasion of the victories of Frederick II at Rossbach and Leuthen during the Seven Years' War (1757, published by M. Kayserling, Zum Siegesfeste, 1866; see also Rosenbach, An American Jewish Bibliography (1926), no. 36; also in English, C. Roth, ibid., 324; Rosenbach, ibid., nos. 35, 37, 38, 42). Similarly, Mendelssohn composed a sermon for Aaron Moses on the occasion of the Peace of Hubertusburg (1763). A sermon written in Hebrew on the death of Frederick II in 1786 by N. H. Wessely was translated into German by L. Bendavid (for England see C. Roth, ibid.; for an 18th-century example in the U.S. see Rosenbach ibid., no. 80, cf. Roth, ibid., 325, no. 26). On the occasion of the coronation of Franz I as emperor of Austria (1792), Moses Muenz preached a sermon in Vienna which was published in German translation; and David Sinzheim devoted one to the "glorious victories" of Napoleon in 1805. The Napoleonic Wars also occasioned sermons by Prussian rabbis as when special services were held for Jews who volunteered for the Prussian forces (cf. S.M. Weyl's sermon Hoffnung und Vertrauen held in Berlin on March 28, 1813, translated from the Hebrew by I. L. Auerbach; and L. J. Saalschuetz, Rede und Gebet, Koenigsberg, 1815). The coming of peace in 1814 was celebrated by Herz Homberg in a sermon in Vienna, and by M. Benlevi in Hildesheim.
THE SERMON IN THE AGE OF REFORM
While the patriotic sermon continued to occupy an important place in the modern preacher's repertory (see below: Subjects and Titles), the age of emancipation and synagogue reform brought to the fore the regular Sabbath and festival sermon in the vernacular, which have since constituted the bulk of homiletic literature. The traditionalists at first opposed the new sermon as much as other reforms, and for a time its use was restricted to its innovators. The consistorial system introduced by Napoleon in France and its dependencies in other European countries, included a provision which required the rabbi to deliver his sermon in the vernacular. In Germany such sermons were first delivered, among other places, in I. Jacobson's school in Seesen, the Philanthropin school in Frankfort, the private Reform services held in Berlin, the new Temple in Hamburg, and the improvised services arranged at the Leipzig fairs. In his Die Gottesdienstlichen Vortraege der Juden (1832), L. Zunz, one of the early preachers, showed the antiquity of the Jewish homily in the vernacular. His sermons at the Reform services in Berlin, two of which appeared separately in 1817 and 1820, were published in 1823. Others among the early preachers whose sermons were published either singly or in collections were Joseph b. Wolf, Dessau; Israel Jacobson, Seesen and Berlin; I. L. Auerbach, Leipzig; David Friedlaender, E. Kley, and G. Salomon, Berlin and Hamburg; and Joseph von Maier, Stuttgart. In Vienna, I. N. Mannheimer introduced German sermons in 1821. Some Orthodox rabbis, such as J. Ettlinger, I. Bernays, S. R. Hirsch, Z. B. Auerbach, and S. Plessner soon recognized the futility of opposing such a useful vehicle of religious influence and instruction and published sermons of their own. Before the middle of the 19th century, men like M. Creizenach, M. Jost, S. Herxheimer, S. Formstecher, A. Geiger, L. Philippsohn, J. L. Saalschuetz, and M. Sachs occupied pulpits in German synagogues and published their sermons in book form or in special periodicals (see below).
SERMONS IN EUROPE 1850–
The printed sermon became a well-established genre of Jewish literature in Europe by the middle of the 19th century, a time in which Protestant sermonic literature flourished in Victorian England in particular. In Germany, Reform rabbis like Samuel Holdheim, A. Geiger, the historian Levi Herzfeld, scholars M. Joel and J. Perles, N. and A. Bruell, and Marcus Horovitz, and prominent preachers L. Stein, S. Maybaum, D. Leindoerfer had their sermons published. Congregations in Austria and the German-speaking parts of Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, Slovakia, and even Galicia and Romania offered their pulpits to preachers from Germany and vice versa. Thus A. Jellinek was active both in Leipzig and Vienna; A. Schwarz in Karlsruhe and Vienna; David Kaufmann in Berlin and Budapest as was Joel Mueller. To Vienna belong the sermons of M. Guedemann, A. Schmiedl, D. Feuchtwang, and H. P. Chajes; the latter's sermons appeared both in German and Italian (from his Florence and Trieste period). In Hungary, too, Reform produced a sermonic literature in German and Hungarian by such prominent scholars and preachers as H. B. Fassel; L. and J. Loew, S. Hevesi, A. Perls, and A. Kiss. Even in Poland and Russia the first attempts at Reform were accompanied by sermons in German as exemplified by those published by W. Tugendhaft (Vilna, 1843), S. A. Schwabacher (Odessa, 1875, 1884) and I. W. Olschwanger (St. Petersburg, 1879). Early sermons in the U. S. (see below) were also preached and printed in German. Prominent preachers in the early 20th century who published sermons were C. Seligmann and L. Baeck among Reform rabbis, S. Breuer and N. A. Nobel among the Orthodox.
ENGLAND
In England, from the middle of the 19th century, both Orthodox and Reform synagogue sermons began to be published: A. Belais (Biblical Expositions, English and Hebrew, 1844); Raphael Meldola (1844), I. Albu (A Word in Due Season, 1853); M. H. Bresslau (1858); of mild or radical Reform tendencies are those of D. W. Marks (1851, 1862, 1865); M. Joseph (1893, 1906, 1930), Israel Abrahams and Claude G. Montefiore (18952, 1906) I. I. Mattuck (1937); A. A. Green (1935); and several volumes by Ignaz Maybaum (1951, 1962, 1965) dealing with the theological problems arising from the Holocaust. Sermons were published by four successive chief rabbis of Great Britain: N. M. and H. Adler, J. H. Hertz, and I. Brodie. Other rabbis whose sermons were published included: H. Gollancz (1909, 1916, 1924), E. Levine (1935), S. L. Lehrman (1957), and A. Cohen (1960). The chief rabbis in South Africa, J. L. Landau (1936) and L. I. Rabinowitz (19522, 1955) had their sermons printed, as did J. Newman (1958). Earlier, some German sermons had been translated into English (cf. G. Solomon, Twelve Sermons, 1893).
FRANCE AND OTHER EUROPEAN COUNTRIES
In France the outstanding preacher in the 19th century was Chief Rabbi Zadoc Kahn, several volumes of whose sermons were published (1875, 1878, 1886–96). Also published were the sermons of chief rabbis J. W. Klein (1863); Alfred Levy (1896); M. A. Weil (1880), B. Lipman (1928), and J. Kaplan. Many sermons in Dutch appeared in print (see Kayserling, Bibliothek Juedischer Kanzelredner 2 (1872), 69–70). Some of the Danish sermons by J. N. Mannheimer (1819), who was Danish by birth and served as preacher in Copenhagen (1816–21), were printed. The sermons of A. A. Wolff, who preached in Danish, French, and German, and more recently, of M. Melchior and W. S. Jacobson (1941) were published as were the Swedish sermons of M. Ehrenpreis (see Kayserling, ibid. 70–71). Among the printed sermons of Italian preachers are those of Lelio della Torre (1834, 1869, 1879, 1904), Marco Tedeschi (1866, 1929), S. D. Luzzatto (1857), S. H. Margulies (1891, 1956), E. Benamozegh (1886), D. Prato (1950), and D. A. Vivanti (1929). Early Spanish or Portuguese sermons have already been mentioned; those by the Portuguese rabbi and scholar M. B. Amzalak were published in 1927. There is also a homiletical literature in Ladino. Sermons in Russian, Polish, and Rumanian were preached and published by the few modern, usually government-appointed rabbis in these countries, such as M. Jastrow, S. Poznanski, and M. Schorr. Some sermons have even been translated into Marathi (H. Alder, 1878; B. S. Ashtumker, The Jewish Pulpit and Sermons, Bombay, 1878).
YIDDISH AND HEBREW SERMONS
The arrival of large numbers of East European immigrants in England and the U.S., where Yiddish remained their language for at least one generation, resulted in additional homiletical literature in that language. In those countries collections of Yiddish sermons were published more as an aid to preachers than for the general public (see below). There is little original modern sermonic literature in Hebrew. In 1812–13 six sermons in German by Joseph b. Wolf of Dessau appeared with a Hebrew translation. Sermons by I. N. Mannheimer were translated into Hebrew (1865) as were those by A. Jellinek (1861, 1891, 1906, 1930). For the sermons of N. A. Nobel see Hagut ve-Halakhah (1969). Some Orthodox rabbis adopted the new medium, such as M. A. Amiel (Derashot el-Ammi, 1924, and Hegyonot el-Ammi, 1933–36); J. L. Zirelsohn (Ma'arkhei Lev, 1932); and A. Lewin (Ha-Derash ve-ha-Iyyun, 1928).
SUBJECTS AND TITLES
Collections of sermons often contain material for all occasions by the same author, or such material by different authors arranged according to subjects: Sabbath (Pentateuch readings), festivals—or the two combined; bar and bat mitzvah; weddings and funerals; rabbis' inaugural and farewell; consecrations of synagogues, cemeteries, and other communal institutions; and various anniversaries and jubilees. The Russian pogroms of 1903 and after produced many protest sermons. Patriotic sermons included those given on the occasion of national holidays, the restoration of peace, sovereign's birthday or death, wars and victories—which represent the least commendable category, especially when preachers indulged in chauvinistic sentiments and addressed volunteers or draftees.
A curiosity is a sermon preached for duelling students at Vienna. Sermons to children and youth, such as those by Charlotte de Rothschild (also translated into German) and Simeon Singer (1908), also constitute a special category. The title, especially of individual sermons, reflect the subject of the address. Collections often appear under such titles as Sabbath Sermons, Festival Sermons or just Sermons; but more fanciful names are also found, e.g., My Religion, Oaks and Acorns, Reaching for the Moon, God on Trial, Hear, Oh Israel, and Short and Sweet. Some sermons, published in languages other than Hebrew, have secondary Hebrew titles which are not always identical with the main title. Occasionally preachers devote a series of sermons to a particular subject (M. Horovitz, Der Talmud, 1883; S. Carlebach, Das Gebet des R. Nechunjoh b. Hakkonoh, 1903; Ehad mi Yode'a, 1896; S. Hirsch, Die Messiaslehre der Juden in Kanzel vortraegen, 1843). Others wrote philosophical lectures (cf. R. Lewin, Mose und Kant, 1924).
FORM AND STYLE
Sermons, of course, reflect the literary ability of the preacher. Some sermons are written in a magnificent style, others are hardly readable. Nineteenth-century preachers produced an extremely ornate sermonic style, while modern preachers use a more sober and simple idiom. Sermons vary greatly in Jewish substance, ranging from the more or less original exposition of Bible and Midrash, with morals applied to contemporary problems, to the development of philosophical themes and the declamation of humanistic and ethical ideals as the essence of Judaism. Some sermons are long, having required at least an hour to deliver, others are short and pithy expositions which must have held the attention of the congregation to the end. There is even a sermon in verse (M. Jacobson, 1894).
FORM OF PUBLICATION
Some authors have published general collections of sermons. Others have published, either singly or in small groups, sermons delivered on special occasions. There are also collections of general or occasional sermons edited by different authors. These collections, along with periodicals devoted to sermonic literature, were intended mainly for the "professional" preacher. Among the collections of sermons the following should be mentioned: in German, S. L. Liepmannssohn's Israelitische Predigtbibliothek, 1842; W. Levy's collection of the same name in 1916; and, above all, M. Kayserling's Bibliothek juedischer Kanzelredner (2 vols., 1870, 1872). In English, Best Jewish Sermons (ed. I. Teplitz); G. Zelikovitch's Der Idish-Amerikaner Redner (521 sermons in English, Hebrew, and Yiddish, 19224); the Manuals of...Sermons published since 1943 by the Rabbinical Council of America; the I. Bettan Memorial volume published by the Central Conference of American Rabbis, 1961; and The American Rabbi, 1961–62. For collections of Yiddish sermons see above. Sermonic periodicals included S. H. Sonneschein's Homiletische Monatsschrift fuer Rabbiner (1868); L. Philippson's Israelitisches Predigtund Schulmagazin (1834–36); Katheder und Kanzel (1894); and Homiletische Zeitschrift (Yein Levanon, 1912–13). For English periodicals see U.S. below. There were also homiletical journals in Hungarian.
A related type of literature are the collections of homiletic material, of which there are many in Hebrew and Yiddish, and which can also be found in handbooks for rabbis. An early work of this kind is A. Ehrenteil's Ha-Maggid—Der juedische Prediger (1854).
HOMILETICS
Many works, mostly lectures given at rabbinical seminaries, have been published as teaching manuals for student teachers and as contributions to homiletics as a branch of Jewish learning. Other works, like Zunz' famous Gottesdienstliche Vortraege, describe the history of the synagogue sermon. Between 1844 and 1856 E. Kley published his Predigt-Skizzen, Beitrage zu einer kuenftigen Homiletik (2 vols.). Also of importance are S. Maybaum's Juedische Homiletik (with texts and themes, 1890); L. Philippson's Die Rhetorik und juedische Homiletik of the same year; and J. Wohlgemuth's Beitraege zu einer juedischen Homiletik (1903–64). In French there is M. Weill's La Parole de Dieu; ou, La Chaire israMlite ancienne et moderne (1880); and in English, A. Cohen's Jewish Homiletics (1937); S. B. Freehof's Modern Jewish Preaching (1941); and Aspects of Homiletics (HUC-JIR, 1957). In Hebrew mention should be made of S. J. Glickberg's Ha-Derashah be-Yisrael (1940) and Torat ha-Derashah (1948).
IN THE U.S.
The first Jewish sermon printed in the U.S. was one delivered by R. H. I. Karigal at Newport, R. I., in 1773. However, recognition of the sermon as an integral part of the synagogue service only came after Isaac Leeser obtained the right to preach regularly in 1843. Leeser published his sermons which were delivered in English to an Orthodox congregation, in Discourses—Argumentative and Devotional (2 vols. 1837) and Discourses on the Jewish Religion (10 vols. 1866–67).
During the mid-19th century the Reform movement, predominantly under German influence, gained strength. The sermon as an essential feature of the service was a Reform innovation and the pulpit was an important means of expounding Reform ideas. For some time during the 19th century the most renowned Jewish preachers in the U.S. spoke in German, and many of their discourses were printed in that language (see HJ, 7, 1945, 103). Inevitably the use of German declined, especially after 1833, when Hebrew Union College began to ordain English-speaking rabbis. At this time the Sunday service became an institution of the Reform avant-garde. Such services were usually a mere framework for the rabbi's address, many of which were printed, e.g., the series of 36 delivered by Joseph Krauskopf. The Sunday service declined after World War I, though it was continued by such prominent figures as Abba Hillel Silver and Solomon B. Freehof.
Whether delivered in English or German, the Jewish sermon exhibited the influence of the contemporary Protestant sermon. After 1880, there arose a large Yiddish-speaking community whose rabbis and maggidim used the mode of textual exposition long developed among Jews. One of the most famous of the maggidim of this period was Zevi Hirsch Masliansky, some of whose addresses were issued, either in Yiddish or in translation. A distinguished Conservative preacher, I. H. Levinthal, exemplifies the successful marriage of "derush" and the style of the English pulpit. Although pulpit oratory has declined in significance, the output of printed sermons is considerable, whether in the form of single addresses or collections published by individual rabbis or rabbinical associations.
Recording devices, which are readily available, have made the perpetuation of the pulpit message easier. Likewise, there is copious material on the art of preaching. Rabbinic periodicals present texts and subjects, and even compilations of sentences and phrases, classified and indexed, intended to provide preachers with oratorical sparkle.
[Alexander Carlebach]

2008. június 16., hétfő

Encyclopaedia Judaica, Maimonides

MAIMONIDES, MOSES (Moses ben Maimon; known in rabbinical literature as "Rambam"; from the acronym Rabbi Moses Ben Maimon; 1135–1204), rabbinic authority, codifier, philosopher, and royal physician.
BIOGRAPHY
The most illustrious figure in Judaism in the post-talmudic era, and one of the greatest of all time, Maimonides was born in Cordoba, Spain, to his father Maimon, dayyan of Cordoba and himself a renowned scholar and pupil of Joseph ibn Migash. He continues his genealogy, "the son of the learned Joseph, son of Isaac the dayyan, son of Joseph the dayyan, son of Obadiah the dayyan, son of the rabbi Solomon, son of Obadiah" (end of commentary to Mishnah); traditions extend the genealogy to R. Judah ha-Nasi. Posterity even recorded the day and hour and even minute of his birth, "On the eve of Passover (the 14th of Nisan) which was a Sabbath, an hour and a third after midday, in the year 4895 (1135) of the Creation" (Sefer Yuhasin). Maimonides' grandson David gives the same day and year without the hour (at the beginning of his commentary to tractate Rosh Ha-Shanah).
As a result of the fall of Cordoba to the Almohads in May or June, 1148, when Moses had just reached his 13th birthday, and the consequent religious persecution, Maimon was obliged to leave Cordoba with his family and all trace of them is lost for the next eight or nine years, which they spent wandering from place to place in Spain (and possibly Provence) until in 1160 they settled in Fez. Yet it was during those years of wandering, which Maimonides himself describes as a period "while my mind was troubled, and amid divinely ordained exiles, on journeys by land and tossed on the tempests of the sea" (end of commentary to Mishnah) that he laid the strong foundations of his vast and varied learning and even began his literary work. Not only did he begin the draft of the Siraj, his important commentary on the Mishnah, in 1158, but in that same year, at the request of a friend, he wrote a short treatise on the Jewish calendar (Ma'amar ha-Ibbur) and one on logic (Millot Higgayon) and had completed writing notes for a commentary on a number of tractates of the Babylonian Talmud, and a work whose aim was to extract the halakhah from the Jerusalem Talmud (see below Maimonides as halakhist). According to Muslim authorities the family became formally converted to Islam somewhere in the period between 1150 and 1160. But Saadiah ibn Danan (Z. Edelmann (ed.), Hemdah Genuzah (1856), 16a) relates that the Muslims maintain the same about many Jewish scholars, among them Dunash ibn Tamim, Hasdai b. Hasdai, and others. In any case in the year 1160 Maimon and his sons, Moses and David, and a daughter, were in Fez. In his old age Abd al-Mu$min, the Almohad ruler, somewhat changed his attitude to the Jews, becoming more moderate toward those who were living in the central, Moroccan, part of his realm. It was probably on account of this that in 1159 or early in 1160 Maimon deemed it worthwhile to emigrate with his family to Morocco and settle in Fez. Living in Fez at that time was R. Judah ha-Kohen ibn Susan, whose fame for learning and piety had spread to Spain, and Maimonides, then 25, studied under him. Many Jews had outwardly adopted Islam and their consciences were troubling them, and this prompted Maimon to write his Iggeret ha-Nehamah ("Letter of Consolation") assuring them that he who says his prayers even in their shortest form and who does good works remains a Jew (Hemdah Genuzah, pp. LXXIV–LXXXII). Meantime his son worked at his commentary on the Mishnah and also continued his general studies, particularly medicine; in his medical works he frequently refers to the knowledge and experience he gained among the Muslims in North Africa (see Maimonides as physician). Here also he wrote his Iggeret ha-Shemad ("Letter on Forced Conversion") also called Iggeret Kiddush ha-Shem ("Letter of the Sanctification of the Divine Name"). These letters of father and son, as well as Maimonides' utterances after leaving Morocco, do not point to outrages and bloody persecutions. Although Maimonides in the opening lines of the Iggeret ha-Shemad most strongly deprecates the condemnation of the forced converts by "the self-styled sage who has never experienced what so many Jewish communities experienced in the way of persecution," his conclusion is that a Jew must leave the country where he is forced to transgress the divine law: "He should not remain in the realm of that king; he should sit in his house until he emigrates..." And once more, with greater insistence: "He should on no account remain in a place of forced conversion; whoever remains in such a place desecrates the Divine Name and is nearly as bad as a willful sinner; as for those who beguile themselves, saying that they will remain until the Messiah comes to the Maghreb and leads them to Jerusalem, I do not know how he is to cleanse them of the stigma of conversion" (Iggeret ha-Shemad, in: Z. Edelmann (ed.), Hemdah Genuzah, 11b–12a).
Maimon and his sons acted in accordance with this advice, as certainly did many others. Maimonides' departure from the country of the Almohads is commonly assumed to have taken place in 1165; according to Saadiah ibn Danan (Seder ha-Dorot, in: Hemdah Genuzah, 30b.), it was promoted by the martyrdom of Judah ibn Susan, who had been called upon to forsake his religion and had preferred death to apostasy. R. Maimon and his family escaped from Fez, and a month later they landed at Acre. The day of his departure as well as that on which the ship was saved from a tempest were instituted as a family fast enjoined on his descendants, and that of his arrival in Erez Israel as a festival (E. Azikri (Azcari), Sefer Haredim; Maim. Comm. to Rosh Ha-Shanah, ed. Brill, end).
The family remained in Acre for some five months, striking up an intimate friendship there with the dayyan Japheth b. Ali. Together with him they made a tour of the Holy Land, visiting Jerusalem where Maimonides states, "I entered the [site of the] Great and Holy House and prayed there on Thursday the 6th day of Marheshvan." Three days later they paid a visit to the Cave of Machpelah in Hebron for the same purpose. Maimonides also appointed both these days as family festivals. The family then left Erez Israel and sailed for Egypt. After a short stay at Alexandria they moved to Cairo and took up residence in Fostat, the Old City of Cairo.
Maimon died at this time either in Erez Israel or in Egypt. It has been suggested that the reason for the choice of Alexandria was the existence at that time "outside the town" of "the academy of Aristotle, the teacher of Alexander" to which "people from the whole world came in order to study the wisdom of Aristotle the philosopher" mentioned by Benjamin of Tudela (ed. by M. N. Adler (1907), 75). It is not certain what prompted the move to Cairo. That Maimonides' influence was decisive in virtually destroying the hitherto dominating influence of the Karaites who were more numerous and wealthy than the Rabbanites in Cairo is beyond doubt (see below) and in the 17th century Jacob Faraji, a dayyan in Egypt, states that it was this challenge which impelled Maimonides to move to Cairo (see Azulai, letter M150).
For eight years Maimonides lived a life free from care. Supported by his brother David who dealt in precious stones, he was able to devote himself entirely to preparing his works for publication and to his onerous but honorary work as both religious and lay leader of the community. His Siraj, the commentary to the Mishnah, was completed in 1168. The following year he suffered a crushing blow. His brother David drowned in the Indian Ocean while on a business trip, leaving a wife and two children, and with him were lost not only the family fortune but moneys belonging to others. Maimonides took the blow badly. For a full year he lay almost prostrate, and then he had to seek a means of livelihood. Rejecting the thought of earning a livelihood from Torah (see his commentary on Avot 5:4, and especially his letter to Joseph ibn Sham'un in 1191, "It is better for you to earn a drachma as a weaver, or tailor, or carpenter than to be dependent on the license of the exilarch [to accept a paid position as a rabbi]"; F. Kobler (ed.),Letters of Jews Through the Ages, 1 (1952), 207) and he decided to make the medical profession his livelihood.
Fame in his calling did not come to him at once. It was only after 1185 when he was appointed one of the physicians to al-Fadil, who had been appointed vizier by Saladin and was virtual ruler of Egypt after Saladin's departure from that country in 1174, that his fame began to spread. It gave rise to a legend that Richard the Lionhearted "the King of the Franks in Ascalon" sought his services as his private physician. About 1177 he was recognized as the official head of the Fostat community. Ibn Danan says of him, "Rabbenu Moshe [b. Maimon] became very great in wisdom, learning, and rank." In the so-called Megillat Zuta he is called "the light of east and west and unique master and marvel of the generation."
These were the most fruitful and busy years of his life. His first wife had died young and in Egypt he remarried, taking as his wife the sister of Ibn Almali, one of the royal secretaries, who himself married Maimonides' only sister. To them was born their only son Abraham to whose education he lovingly devoted himself, and an added solace was his enthusiastic disciple Joseph ibn Sham'un (not Ibn Aknin, as often stated), whom he loved as a son, and for whom he wrote, and sent chapter by chapter, his Guide of the Perplexed. It was during those years, busy as he was with the heavy burden of his practice and occupied with the affairs of the community, writing his extensive correspondence to every part of the Jewish world (apart from the Franco-German area), that he wrote the two monumental works upon which his fame chiefly rests, the Mishneh Torah (compiled 1180) and the Guide (1190; according to Z. Diesendruck, in: HUCA, 12–13 (1937–38), 461–97, in 1185), as well as his Iggeret Teiman and his Ma'amar Tehiyyat ha-Metim.
The following passage in the letter to the translator of the Guide, Samuel b. Judah ibn Tibbon, in which he describes his multifarious cares and duties, with the aim of dissuading Ibn Tibbon from coming to visit him, has often been quoted:
I dwell at Mi\r [Fostat] and the sultan resides at al-Qahira [Cairo]; these two places are two Sabbath days' journey distant from each other. My duties to the sultan are very heavy. I am obliged to visit him every day, early in the morning; and when he or any of his children, or any of the inmates of his harem, are indisposed, I dare not quit al-Qahira, but must stay during the greater part of the day in the palace. It also frequently happens that one or two royal officers fall sick, and I must attend to their healing. Hence, as a rule, I repair to al-Qahira very early in the day, and even if nothing unusual happens, I do not return to Mi\r until the afternoon. Then I am almost dying with hunger... I find the antechambers filled with people, both Jews and gentiles, nobles and common people, judges and bailiffs, friends and foes—a mixed multitude who await the time of my return.
I dismount from my animal, wash my hands, go forth to my patients, and entreat them to bear with me while I partake of some slight refreshment, the only meal I take in the twenty-four hours. Then I go forth to attend to my patients, and write prescriptions and directions for their various ailments. Patients go in and out until nightfall, and sometimes even, I solemnly assure you, until two hours or more in the night. I converse with and prescribe for them while lying down from sheer fatigue; and when night falls, I am so exhausted that I can scarcely speak.
In consequence of this, no Israelite can have any private interview with me, except on the Sabbath. On that day the whole congregation, or at least the majority of the members, come to me after the morning service, when I instruct them as to their proceedings during the whole week; we study together a little until noon, when they depart. Some of them return, and read with me after the afternoon service until evening prayers. In this manner I spend that day.
The two major works will be described below, but something must be said of the two letters. The Arab ruler in Yemen, who, unlike the sultans in Egypt who were Sunnites, belonged to the sectarian Shiites, instituted a religious persecution, giving the Jews the choice of conversion to Islam or death. Not only did many succumb, but there arose among those Jews a pseudo-Messiah, or a forerunner of the Messiah who, seeing in these events the darkness before the dawn, preached the imminent advent of the Messianic Age. In despair the Jews of Yemen turned to Maimonides, who probably in 1172 answered their request with the Iggeret Teiman (al-Risala al-Yamaniyya). It was addressed to R. Jacob b. Nethanel al-Fayyumi, with a request that copies be sent to every community in Yemen. Deliberately couched in simple terms, "that men, women, and children could read it easily," he pointed out that the subtle attack of Christianity and Islam which preached a new revelation was more dangerous than the sword and than the attractions of Hellenism. As for the pseudo-Messiah, he was unbalanced and he was to be rejected. These trials were sent to prove the Jews.
The effect of the letter was tremendous. In gratitude for the message of hope, combined with the fact that Maimonides also used his influence at court to obtain a lessening of the heavy burden of taxation on the Jews of Yemen, the Jews of Yemen introduced into the Kaddish a prayer for "the life of our teacher Moses b. Maimon" (Letter of Nahmanides to the rabbis of France, in: Kitvei Ramban, ed. by C. B. Chavel (1963), 341).
This remarkable tribute, usually reserved for the exilarch, has an indirect connection with the third of his public (as distinct from his private) letters, the Ma'amar Tehiyyat ha-Metim ("On Resurrection"; 1191). Maimonides wrote the letter with the greatest reluctance. It was the direct result of his Mishneh Torah and constituted his reply to the accusation leveled against him that in this work he denied, or did not mention, the doctrine of personal resurrection which was a fundamental principle of faith among the Jews of his time. An objective study of his work does lend a certain basis to the allegation. It is true, as he indignantly protests, that he included this doctrine as the last of his famous Thirteen Principles of Judaism, but in his Mishneh Torah the undoubted emphasis is on the immortality of the soul and not on individual bodily resurrection. That the allegation was not based upon mere malice or envy of his work is sufficiently proved by the fact that anxious queries were addressed to him from the countries in which he was most fervently admired, Yemen and Provence, and Maimonides answered them. Abraham b. David of PosquiIres wrote: "The words of this man seem to me to be very near to him who says there is no resurrection of the body, but only of the soul. By my life, this is not the view of the sages" (Comm. to Yad, Teshuvah 8:2). Some Jews from Yemen however, unsatisfied, wrote to Samuel b. Ali the powerful and learned Gaon in Baghdad who sent a reply, which although couched in terms of respect to Maimonides, vigorously denounced his views. It would appear that the vehemence of this reply was connected with Samuel's desire to assert his authority as gaon over Egypt, which he thought was being usurped by Maimonides. On the other hand, Maimonides held the exilarch Samuel (of Josiah b. Zakkai's line), the successor of the exilarch Daniel b. Hisdai, in higher esteem than the gaon Samuel b. Ali. Thus the relations between Maimonides and the gaon remained strained, although there was never open hostility. Joseph ibn Sham'un, in Baghdad, who had also queried Maimonides' views on resurrection, sent a copy of Samuel's reply to Maimonides and with great reluctance Maimonides felt himself compelled to write his Ma'amar Tehiyyat ha-Metim in which he asserted and confirmed his belief in the doctrine.
Maimonides was active as head of the community. He took vigorous steps to deal with the Karaites, and as a result brought about the supremacy of the Rabbanites in Cairo. On the one hand he emphatically maintained that they were to be regarded as Jews, with all the attendant privileges. They might be visited, their dead buried, and their children circumcised, their wine permitted; they were however not to be included in a religious quorum (Resp. ed. Blau, 449). Only when they flouted rabbinic Judaism was a barrier to be maintained. One was particularly to avoid visiting them on their festivals which did not coincide with the dates fixed by the rabbinic calendar. One of the inroads which they had caused in orthodox observance was with regard to ritual immersion for the niddah. Their view that an ordinary bath was sufficient had been widely adopted among the Rabbanites. Maimonides succeeded in restoring rabbinic practice in this matter, but generally his policy toward the Karaites was more lenient in his later years, and was continued by his son Abraham. (For an exhaustive treatment of this subject see C. Tchernowitz, Toledot ha-Posekim (1946), 197–208.)
Maimonides made various changes in liturgical custom, the most radical of which was the abolition of the repetition of the Amidah in the interests of decorum. With the completion of the Guide Maimonides' literary work, apart from his extensive correspondence, came to an end. In failing health he nevertheless continued his work as head of the Jewish community and as court physician. (It is doubtful whether he actually held the appointment of nagid as is usually stated; see M. D. Rabinowitz, Introduction to Ma'amar Tehiyyat ha-Metim in Iggerot ha-Rambam, 220–7.)
It was during this period however that he engaged in his correspondence with the scholars of Provence in general and with Jonathan of Lunel in particular. In some instances the border line between responsum and letter is not clearly defined (e.g., his letter to Obadiah the Proselyte, see below), but, as Kobler comments, the letters of Maimonides mark an epoch in letter writing. He is the first Jewish letter writer whose correspondence has been largely preserved. Vigorous and essentially personal, his letters found their way to the mind and heart of his correspondents, and he varied his style to suit them. But above all they reveal his whole personality, which is different from what might be expected from his Mishneh Torah and the Guide. The picture of an almost austere and aloof intellectual above human passions and emotions derived from there is completely dispelled.
Maimonides died on December 13, 1204. There were almost universal expressions of grief. Public mourning was ordained in all parts of the Jewish world. In Fostat mourning was ordained for three days and in Jerusalem a public fast and the Scriptural readings instituted concluded with the verse "the glory is departed from Israel, for the Ark of the Lord is taken" (I Sam. 4:22). His remains were taken to Tiberias for burial, and his grave is still an object of pilgrimage.
Influence
The influence of Maimonides on the future development of Judaism is incalculable. No spiritual leader of the Jewish people in the post-talmudic period has exercised such an influence both in his own and subsequent generations. Despite the vehement opposition which greeted his philosophical views the breach was healed (see Maimonidean Controversy). It is significant that when Solomon Luria strongly criticised Moses Isserles for his devotion to Greek philosophy, Isserles answered that his sole source was Maimonides' Guide, thus giving it the cachet of acceptability (Resp. Isserles 7). It was probably due to his unrivaled eminence as talmudist and codifier that many of his views were finally accepted. They were very radical at the time. To give but one example, the now universally accepted doctrine of the incorporeality of God was by no means accepted as fundamental before him and was probably an advanced view held by a small group of thinkers and philosophers. Even Abraham b. David of PosquiIres protested the statement of Maimonides that anyone who maintains the corporeality of God is a sectarian: "Why does he call him a sectarian? Many greater and better than he accepted this idea [of the corporeality of God] basing themselves on Scripture" (Yad, Teshuvah 3:7). C. Tchernowitz (Toledot ha-Posekim, 1 (1946), 193) goes so far as to maintain that were it not for Maimonides Judaism would have broken up into different sects and beliefs, and that it was his great achievement to unite the various currents, halakhic and philosophic.
Maimonides is regarded as the supreme rationalist, and the title given by Ahad Ha-Am to his essay on him, "Shilton ha-Sekhel" ("The Rule of Reason"; in: Ha-Shilo'ah, 15 (1905), 291–319) included in his collected works, Al Parashat Derakhim (1921), has become almost standard in referring to him, and so long as one confines oneself to his three great works, the commentary on the Mishnah, the Mishneh Torah, and the Guide, a case can be made out for this view.
In the Mishneh Torah Maimonides rigidly confines himself to a codification of Jewish law, refraining almost entirely from allowing his personal views to obtrude. Where he does advance his own view to which he can find no talmudic authority, he is careful, as he explicitly states in a letter to Jonathan of Lunel, to introduce it with the words "it appears to me" (cf. Yad, Sanhedrin 4:11). From his knowledge of medicine he was aware that certain disabilities in animals which in the time of the Talmud were regarded as fatal were susceptible to cure, while some which were not so regarded were in fact fatal, yet he lays it down that the talmudic view must be applied (Shehitah 10:12 and 13). Among the few exceptions the most striking is his outburst against belief in witchcraft and enchantment. After faithfully giving in their minutest details the talmudic description of, and laws concerning, these practices, he adds: "All these and similar matters are lies and falsehood... it is not fitting for Jews, who are intelligent and wise, to be attracted by them or believe that they are effective... whosoever believes in them, and that they are true, only that the Bible has forbidden them, belongs to the category of fools and ignoramuses and is in the class of immature women and children" (Avodat Kokhavim 11:16). In his work on the calendar included in the Mishneh Torah (Hilkhot Kiddush ha-Hodesh) he maintains vigorously that one should have recourse to works written by non-Jewish astronomers (11:1–6). At the end of Hilkhot Temurah, he defends the search after reasons for the biblical commandments (4:13).
In the Guide he allows himself more freedom, but the main difference between the two works lies in their different purpose and aim. The Mishneh Torah was written for the believing Jew untroubled by the apparent contradictions between revealed law and current philosophy, and its aim was to tell him how he should conduct himself in his desire to live according to the law. The Guide, as its name conveys, was designed for those whose faith had been weakened by these doctrines and its aim was to tell him why he should adhere to traditional Judaism. This helps to explain the contradictions between the two.
In both works one sees only the unemotional man of intellect. It is in his letters that Maimonides emerges as the warm human being, his heart open to the suffering of his people, and expressing and responding to both affection and hostility. It comes almost as a shock to read in his letter to Japheth b. Ali, when he informs him of the death of his brother David, that he remonstrates with him for not sending a letter of condolence to him on the death of his father which took place 11 years earlier though he had received innumerable such messages from all over the Jewish world, repeating the complaint twice. The letter was written eight years after his brother's death, yet he writes, "I still mourn, and there is no comfort... Whenever I come across his handwriting or one of his books, my heart goes faint within me, and my grief reawakens" and in that letter he continues that he will never forget those days which he passed in Erez Israel with his correspondent (Kobler 192–3). The personal human element is equally to the fore in the above-quoted letter to Samuel ibn Tibbon, while his letter-responsum to Obadiah the Proselyte reveals Maimonides' spirit to the full. It was surely only to his intimate disciple that he could open his heart and declare, "when I see no other way of teaching a well-established truth except by pleasing one intelligent man and displeasing ten thousand fools, I choose to address myself to the one man and take no notice whatsoever of the condemnation of the multitude" (Introduction to the Guide). On the other hand Maimonides is almost virulent in his opposition to songs and music: "song and music are all forbidden, even if unaccompanied by words... there is no difference between listening to songs, or string music, or melodies without words; everything which conduces to the rejoicing of the soul and emotion is forbidden." It is immaterial whether they are in Arabic or in Hebrew. "A person who listens to foolish songs with musical accompaniment is guilty of three transgressions, listening to folly, listening to song, and listening to instrumental music. If the songs are sung with accompaniment of drinking, there is a fourth transgression, if the singer is a woman there is a fifth." The references in the geonic sources to singing are only to liturgical hymns (Resp. ed. Blau, 224. cf. 269; Guide 3:8; Yad, Ta'anit, 5:14). Despite this last permission he was opposed to the insertion of piyyutim in the prayers (180, 207, 254, 260, 261). If the ignorant insist on them and their ways prevail, they should be said before the Shema, the beginning of the essential service (207).
No praise can be too high for the outer form of his works, both in language and logical method. The Mishneh Torah was the only work which he wrote in Hebrew, and the language is superb, clear, and succinct. He regretted that he did not prepare Hebrew versions of his other works. In answer to Joseph b. Gabir's request written in 1191 that he translate the work into Arabic, not only does he state that it would thereby lose its specific character, but that he would have liked to translate his works written in Arabic into Hebrew (Kobler 199); and when the rabbis of Lunel asked him to translate the Guide into Hebrew, he stated that he wished he were young enough to do so (ibid., 216).
The Mishneh Torah is a model of logical sequence and studied method, each chapter and each paragraph coming in natural sequence to its preceding one. More impressive is the fact that in his earliest work one can so clearly discern the seeds of the later, so that it can confidently be stated that his whole subsequent system and ideas were already formulated in his mind when he wrote it. The Shemonah Perakim which form the introduction to his commentary on Avot is almost a draft of the first portion of Sefer Madda, the first book of the Mishneh Torah. When attacked on his views on resurrection he pointed out that he had included it in the Thirteen Principles which he evolved in his commentary to the tenth chapter of Sanhedrin. The radical view found in the very last chapter of the Mishneh Torah that the messianic age is nothing more than the attainment of political independence in Israel is stated in detail in that same excursus, and his original view on the possibility of the reestablishment of the Sanhedrin, which he carefully puts forward as his own ("it appears to me") and which he qualifies by the statement "but the matter must be weighed up" (Sanhedrin 4:11), is already expressed in his commentary on the Mishnah (Sanh. 1:1).
[Louis Isaac Rabinowitz]
AS HALAKHIST
Maimonides' halakhic activity began during his youth with his commentary to some tractates of the Talmud (introduction to commentary to the Mishnah). Only fragments on several tractates have survived (see S. Asaf, in: Sinai, 6 (1940), 103–32, on Shabbat; M. Kamelhar (1956) on Yoma): the commentary to Rosh Ha-Shanah, published in its entirety (by J. Brill, 1865; Y. A. Kamelhar, 1906), is of doubtful authenticity (see M. J. L. Sachs, Hiddushei ha-Ra-MBa-M la-Talmud (1963), introd. 13–23). His Hilkhot ha-Yerushalmi ("Laws of the Palestinian Talmud"), alluded to in his commentary to the Mishnah (Tamid 5:1), is not extant; the authenticity of the fragments published by Saul Lieberman (1947) has been challenged (Benedikt in: KS, 27 (1950–51), 329–49). It is interesting to note, in view of the fact that his famous code, the Mishneh Torah, embraces the whole of Jewish law, both practical and theoretical, that in both these works he confined himself to the practical halakhah, his commentary on the Talmud being confined to the orders Mo'ed, Nashim, and Nezikin and the tractate Hullin, which deals with dietary laws.
Commentary to the Mishnah
It is through his commentary to the Mishnah that one can begin to review Maimonides as a halakhist. In his commentary, Maimonides sets out to explain to the general reader the meaning of the Mishnah, without having recourse to the involved and lengthy discussions in the Gemara, the language of which was more difficult than the Mishnah itself (Mishneh Torah, introd.). Out of the mishnaic and other tannaitic texts and corresponding passages in the Gemara, often widely scattered throughout the Talmud, Maimonides evolves the underlying principles of the subjects discussed, which a particular Mishnah, chapter, or entire tractate presupposed. In some cases he interprets the Mishnah differently from the Gemara (cf. in Sanh. 1:1). It has been asserted that even during his early work as a commentator, Maimonides was at the same time a codifier, a role which he later successfully developed in the Sefer ha-Mitzvot and the Mishneh Torah (M. Guttmann, in: J. Guttmann et al. (eds.), Moses ben Maimon, 2 (1914), 306–30; idem, in: HUCA, 2 (1925), 229–68). Following his explanatory glosses to the mishnaic passage, Maimonides gave the halakhic decision in each Mishnah based on his reading of the discussion in the Gemara.
Of special significance are the lengthy introductions he included in his commentary. The general introduction which heads his commentary to the order of Zera'im is in reality an introduction to and history of the Oral Law from Moses until his own days. The introduction to Avot, known as the Shemonah Perakim ("Eight Chapters") is a philosophical and ethical treatise in which its author harmonized Aristotle's ethics with rabbinical teachings. In the introduction to Mishnah Sanhedrin (10:1), which begins with the words "All Israel has a portion in the world to come," Maimonides dealt at length with the fundamental doctrines of Judaism which are formulated in the Thirteen Articles of Faith. Especially extensive and exhaustive is the introduction to the difficult order Tohorot, in which Maimonides systematizes all that had been said in talmudic literature on the subject of ritual purity and impurity. The standard Hebrew translation, the work of a number of hands, is a poor rendering of the Arabic original. A new and more faithful translation was made by Y. Kafah, Mishnah im Perush ha-Rambam... (1963–68).
The Responsa of Maimonides
The publication of the critical editions of the responsa of Maimonides (ed. by A. Freimann, 1934; J. Blau, 1957–61) affords a better opportunity to appraise his role in the communal life of the Jews of Egypt and neighboring countries. The responsa, which were in the language of the questioner, whether Hebrew or Arabic, number 464; some of them soon found their way into halakhic literature. Although not all responsa bear the date of composition, it has been ascertained that Maimonides' responsa extend from about 1167, a short time after his arrival in Egypt, until a little before his death. The questioners include prominent scholars like R. Anatoli and R. Meshullam, dayyanim in Alexandria; Jonathan ha-Kohen of Lunel; Joseph b. Gabir; Nissim of Damascus; and Samuel b. Ali, Gaon of Baghdad. From these responsa one learns of the growing tension between the gaon of Baghdad and Maimonides in connection with traveling on the high seas on the Sabbath, prohibited by Samuel b. Ali but permitted by Maimonides (ed. Blau, no. 308–9). Some of the responsa to Jonathan of Lunel, who was a disciple of Abraham b. David of PosquiIres, are in essence rejoinders to the latter's criticisms, for his questions coincide with the language and style of these criticisms (ed. Freimann, introd. xliv = ed. Blau, 3 (1961), 43).
The bitter experience of his youth failed to nurture in Maimonides rabid anti-Muslim feelings, and he consistently declined to classify Muslims as idolators. Even the ritual practices connected with the Ka'ba stone in Mecca did not in his opinion deny Islam its purely monotheistic nature (ed. Freimann, no. 369 = ed. Blau, no. 448; see S. Baron, in: PAAJR, 6 (1935), 83f.). In reply to an inquiry by Saadiah b. Berakhot about the authenticity of the gnostic work, Shi'ur Komah, Maimonides writes: "Heaven forfend that such work originated from the sages; it is undoubtedly the work of one of the Greek preachers... and it would be a divine act to suppress this book and to eradicate its subject matter" (ed. Freimann, no. 373 = ed. Blau, no. 117; see Scholem, Mysticism (19462), 63ff.). Of special interest is his responsum to Obadiah the Proselyte (ed. Freimann, no. 42 = ed. Blau, no. 293), who inquired if he was permitted to say in the blessings and prayers, "Our God and God of our Fathers," "Thou who has chosen us," "Thou who has worked miracles to our fathers," and similar expressions. Maimonides' responsum, apart from its halakhic merit, is a unique human document displaying grave concern for the feelings of this lonely proselyte who was so unsure of himself. Obadiah was advised that he was to recite all those prayers in the same way as one born a Jew, that he must not consider himself inferior to the rest of the Jews. The major part of this responsum has been translated into English by F. Kobler (see also S. B. Freehof, Treasury of Responsa (1962), 28–34). These responsa, although confined to halakhic decisions, nevertheless display Maimonides' views on matters of doctrine and fundamentals of Judaism.
Sefer ha-Mitzvot ("Book of the Commandments")
Maimonides found all previous attempts at enumerating the traditional 613 commandments unsatisfactory. He therefore composed the Sefer ha-Mitzvot in which he gave his own enumeration of the 248 positive and the 365 negative commandments. As an introduction to this work, he laid down 14 principles which guided him in the identification and enumeration of the commandments. He severely criticized the work of his predecessors, such as the enumeration of the Halakhot Gedolot and of R. Hefez, as well as those paytanim like Solomon ibn Gabirol, who composed the Azharot, religious hymns based on enumeration of the commandments.
Maimonides' sharp criticism of the Halakhot Gedolot evoked a defense of the latter by Nahmanides, a staunch apologist "for the ancients," who in his Hassagot strongly criticized Maimonides, accusing him of inconsistencies. He was also challenged by Daniel ha-Bavli, a disciple of Samuel b. Ali, the anti-Maimonist. His criticisms took the form of questions which he sent to Abraham, the son of Maimonides, who replied to them. The Sefer ha-Mitzvot, however, was generally accepted, and a whole body of literature was produced in defense of it, apart from the general works on the 613 commandments according to Maimonides' classification and enumeration (see A. Jellinek, Kunteres Taryag, 1878).
The Sefer ha-Mitzvot, originally written in Arabic, was translated several times into Hebrew. The version by Abraham ibn Hasdai is no longer extant, while the translation by Moses ibn Tibbon, in its critical edition by H. Heller, is accepted as the standard text (1946).
The Mishneh Torah ("Repetition of the Law")
The Sefer ha-Mitzvot was not an end in itself but an introduction to the Mishneh Torah (Responsa, ed. Freimann, no. 368 = ed. Blau, no. 447), on which Maimonides labored for ten successive years. The purpose of the work is explained by Maimonides:
In our days, many vicissitudes prevail, and all feel the pressure of hard times. The wisest of our wise men has disappeared; the understanding of our prudent men is hidden. Hence, the commentaries of the geonim and their compilations of laws and responsa, which they took care to make clear, have in our times become hard to understand, so that only a few individuals fully comprehend them. Needless to add that such is the case in regard to Talmud itself, both Babylonian and Jerusalem, and the Sifra, Sifrei, and Tosefta, all of which require, for their comprehension, a broad mind, a wise soul, and considerable study. Then one might learn from them the correct way to determine what is forbidden and permitted, as well as other rules of the Torah. On these grounds, I, Moses the son of Maimon the Sephardi bestirred myself, and relying on the help of God, blessed be He, intently studied all these works, with the view of putting together the results obtained from them... all in plain language and terse style, so that thus the entire Oral Law might become systematically known to all without citing difficulties and solutions of differences of view... but consisting of statements, clear and convincing, that have appeared from the time of Moses to the present, so that all rules shall be accessible to young and old... (introduction to Mishneh Torah).
Maimonides then set for himself the task of classifying by subject matter the entire talmudic and post-talmudic halakhic literature in a systematic manner never before attempted in the history of Judaism. The Mishneh Torah was divided into 14 books, each representing a distinct category of the Jewish legal system. (In Hebrew 14 is yad and hence the alternative name of the work Yad ha-Hazakah, i.e., "the strong hand.")
Even though the Guide of the Perplexed was written after the completion of the Mishneh Torah, Maimonides succeeded in incorporating many of its philosophic and scientific aspects into this purely halakhic work. Philosophy and science were handmaidens to theology. Hence Book 1 contains a complete system of metaphysics, Book 3 the astronomical calculations for reckoning the calendar, and Book 14 a discussion of the doctrine of the Messiah and a refutation of Christianity, Islam, and their founders. These digressions, which technically speaking are not halakhic in essence but rather ethical and philosophic, occur frequently in the halakhic writings of Maimonides.
Unlike the commentary to the Mishnah and Sefer ha-Mitzvot which were written in Arabic, the Mishneh Torah was written in a beautiful and lucid Hebrew, the like of which had not been known in halakhic literature since Judah ha-Nasi composed the Mishnah. The Mishneh Torah influenced the language of later codes, including the Shulhan Arukh (see J. Dienstag, in: Sinai, 59 (1966), 54–75).
OPPOSITION TO THE CODE
The entire structure, form, and arrangement of the Mishneh Torah was a cultural and historical phenomenon unprecedented in Jewish dogmatic jurisprudence (see Codification of Law) which both awed and shocked the scholarly world for centuries (see Maimonidean Controversy). The architectural beauty of its structure, its logical arrangement, and ready-reference nature were the main targets for criticism, for it was feared that students would turn away from the study of the Talmud and commentaries, the source and wellspring of dynamic halakhic creativity. The severest criticism came from Abraham b. David of PosquiIres, an older contemporary of Maimonides, who probably equaled him in talmudic scholarship. The most serious of his charges was that Maimonides neglected to cite the sources and authorities from which his decisions were derived:
He [Maimonides] intended to improve but did not improve, for he forsook the way of all authors who preceded him. They always adduced proof for their statements, citing the proper authority; this was very useful, for sometimes the judge would be inclined to forbid or permit something and his proof was based on some other authority. Had he known there was a greater authority who interpreted the law differently, he might have retracted... hence I do not know why I should reverse my tradition or corroborative views because of the compendium of this author. If the one who differs from me is greater than I, fine; and if I am greater than he, why should I annul my opinion...? Moreover, there are matters on which the geonim disagree and the author has selected the opinion of one.... Why should I rely on his choice.... It can only be one that an overbearing spirit is in him (Abraham b. David's Hassagot to introduction of Mishneh Torah).
These charges were not motivated by personal animosity, as claimed by some scholars of the Haskalah period, for on many occasions Abraham b. David traces certain sources of laws in the Code or comments upon it. At other times he is overwhelmed by this compendium (see I. Twersky, in: Sefer ha-Yovel... Zevi Wolfson (1965), 169–86). Abraham b. David's objections were shared by lesser-known scholars (I. Twersky, in: A. Altmann (ed.), Biblical and other Studies (1963), 161–82), who added their own criticism. During the 19th century, opposition to the Mishneh Torah was still a subject of controversy between S. D. Luzzatto, N. Krochmal, and others (J. Dienstag, in: Bitzaron, 55 (1967), 34–37).
In a series of letters Maimonides replied to his criticism that his intention in writing the Mishneh Torah was not to discourage talmudic studies, including the halakhot of Alfasi. On the contrary, he had lectured to his pupils on these subjects (A. Lichtenberg (ed.), Kovez Teshuvot ha-Rambam (1859), pt. 1, no. 140 p. 25, b–c). He regretted the omission of his sources and hoped to include them in a supplement (ibid.). Maimonides never realized this hope. However, practically every commentary on the Mishneh Torah attempted to trace its sources. If his aim in compiling the Code was "so that no other work should be needed for ascertaining any of the laws of Israel," the more than 300 commentaries and novellae which have been written on it—and their number is growing—is an ironic phenomenon that could not have been anticipated by Maimonides. The Mishneh Torah did not become the definitive code its venerated creator had hoped. Actually, it surpassed his hopes, for it became the major source of halakhic creativity and talmudic research equaled only by the Talmud itself.
Maimonides the Halakhist in Modern Jewish Scholarship
Finally, it is interesting to note that no other halakhic authority has been the subject of so much modern Jewish scholarship as Maimonides. The tendentious, albeit subtle, anti-halakhic orientation of many of the exponents of the Wissenschaft school and the scholars of the Haskalah (including the leaders of Reform Judaism) has dampened, if not outright discouraged, intensive research in halakhah per se. Some of those who did engage in this discipline, such as A. Geiger, N. Bruell, J. H. Schorr, and others, were motivated by their anti-traditional bias and sought to undermine its authority and advance the cause of modernism and reform. The preoccupation of modern Jewish scholarship with Maimonides as halakhist is out of proportion to its interest in rabbinic literature and the stream of systematic studies on the subject has continued unabated.
[Jacob I. Dienstag]
PHILOSOPHY
Maimonides was, by general agreement, the most significant Jewish philosopher of the Middle Ages, and his Guide of the Perplexed is the most important philosophic work produced by a Jew. The Arabic original Dalalat al-Ha$rin was completed about 1200 and shortly thereafter was twice translated into Hebrew as Moreh Nevukhim. The first translation, a literal one, was made by Samuel ibn Tibbon with Maimonides' advice and was completed in 1204. The second, a freer translation, was made by the poet Judah al-Harizi a little later. In its Hebrew translations the Guide determined the course of Jewish philosophy from the early 13th century on, and almost every philosophic work for the remainder of the Middle Ages cited, commented on, or criticized Maimonides' views.
While the Guide contained the major statement of Maimonides' position, his philosophic and theological views appeared in a variety of other writings, among which the most important are the three lengthy essays in his commentary to the Mishnah (see above), first book of the Mishneh Torah, Sefer ha-Madda which is devoted to God and His attributes, angelic beings, the structure of the universe, prophecy, ethics, repentance, free will and providence, and the afterlife, and the last section of the work, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim which includes a discussion on the Messiah and the messianic age.
Influences on Maimonides
In his philosophic views Maimonides was an Aristotelian (see Aristotle), and it was he who put medieval Jewish philosophy on a firm Aristotelian basis. But in line with contemporary Aristotelianism his political philosophy was Platonic. In his works he quotes his authorities sparingly (see "Shemonah Perakim," introduction, end), but in a letter to his translator Samuel ibn Tibbon (A. Marx, in: JQR, 25 (1934–35), 374–81) he indicated his philosophic preferences explicitly. In this letter he advises Ibn Tibbon to study the works of Aristotle with the help of the Hellenistic commentators Alexander of Aphrodisias and Themistius and of Maimonides' contemporary Averroes. It appears, however, that Averroes' commentaries reached Maimonides too late to have any influence on his Guide. He recommends highly the works of the Muslim al-Farabi, particularly those on logic, and he speaks of the writings of the Muslim Avempace (Ibn Baja) with approval. The works of Avicenna (Ibn Sina) in Maimonides' view are also worthy of study, but they are inferior to those of al-Farabi. Of Jewish philosophers he mentions only Isaac Israeli, of whose views he disapproves, and Joseph ibn Zaddik, whom he praises for his learning, though he states that he knew only the man, not his work. He also mentions some other philosophers of whose views he disapproves. Al-Farabi, Avempace, and Averroes interpreted Aristotle rationalistically, and it appears that Maimonides preferred their interpretations to the more theologically oriented one of Avicenna, though he relied on Avicenna for some of his views.
(For a full discussion of sources, see S. Pines, Guide of the Perplexed (1963), translator's introduction lvii–cxxxiv.)
Maimonides considered himself in the tradition of the Aristotelians, adapting and developing their teachings in accord with his own views; but he differed from them in the works he produced. While the Muslims had composed commentaries on Aristotle's works, summaries of his views, and independent philosophic treatises, Maimonides produced no purely philosophic work of his own, the early Treatise on Logic excepted. He held that the extant philosophic literature was adequate for all needs (Guide 2, introd., proposition 25, and ch. 2), and he devoted himself to specific issues, particularly those bearing on the interrelation of philosophy and religion.
Distinction between Intellectual Elite and Masses
Fundamental to Maimonides approach is a division of mankind into two groups: an intellectual elite, who, using reason, can understand by means of demonstrative arguments, and the masses (including those scholars who study only religious law), who, using imagination, understand by means of persuasive arguments. In the light of this distinction Maimonides' works may be divided into two kinds: Guide of the Perplexed, addressed primarily to an intellectual elite, and his other writings, addressed to the masses.
This distinction had one further consequence for Maimonides. Maimonides identified ma'aseh bereshit (the account of the creation) and ma'aseh merkavah (the account of the divine chariot of Ezekiel) with physics and metaphysics respectively. According to the Mishnah, however (Hag. 2:1) one may not teach the former to two persons, nor the latter even to one, unless he is wise and able to understand by himself. Maimonides codifies this as halakhah (Yad, Yesodei ha-Torah, 2:12; 4:10–13) and in his commentary to the Mishnah gives as the reason for the prohibition the current philosophical opinion that the teaching of abstract matters to someone who cannot grasp them may lead to unbelief.
This prohibition against the public teaching of ma'aseh merkavah and ma'aseh bereshit posed a problem. How could he write the Guide, a book devoted to these esoteric topics, when putting something in writing is equivalent to teaching it in public? Maimonides solved this problem by making use of certain literary devices. First, Maimonides addressed the book to his disciple, Joseph ben Judah ibn Sham'un, who after studying with him left for Baghdad. Hence, the Guide in its formal aspect is a personal communication to one student. Moreover Maimonides, in a dedicatory letter at the beginning of the Guide, relates Joseph's intellectual history, showing that he had acquired some philosophic wisdom and that he was able to reason for himself. Hence, Joseph had fulfilled the conditions necessary for studying the esoteric disciplines.
But Maimonides was well aware that persons other than Joseph would read his work. Hence, he had to make use of other devices. Invoking modes of esoteric writing also current among Islamic philosophers, Maimonides wrote his work in an enigmatic style. Discussing the same topic in different passages, he would make contradictory statements about it. He describes this method in the introduction to the Guide, where he speaks of seven types of contradictions which appear in literary works, stating explicitly that he will make use of two of them. It is left to the perceptive reader to discover Maimonides' true views on a given issue.
The enigmatic nature of the Guide imposed great difficulties on medieval and modern commentators, and two schools of interpretation arose. Some, while aware of Maimonides' method, consider him a philosopher who attempted to harmonize the teachings of religion with those of philosophy. Others, however, considered Maimonides a philosopher, whose views were in agreement with those of the rationalistic Aristotelians, and who expressed religious opinions largely as a concession to the understanding of the masses. For example, Maimonides, according to the first interpretation, believed that the world was created, while according to the second, his true view was that the world is eternal.
With all these distinctions in mind one may proceed to an exposition of Maimonides' philosophy based largely on the Guide.
Purpose of the Guide
Maimonides wrote his work for someone who was firm in his religious beliefs and practices, but, having studied philosophy, was perplexed by the literal meaning of biblical anthropomorphic and anthropopathic terms. To this person Maimonides showed that these difficult terms have a spiritual meaning besides their literal one, and that it is the spiritual meaning that applies to God. Maimonides also undertook in the Guide the explanation of obscure biblical parables. Thus, the Guide is devoted to the philosophic interpretation of Scripture, or, to use Maimonides' terms, to the "science of the Law in its true sense" or to the "secrets of the Law" (Guide, introd.).
God
Maimonides' first philosophical topic is God. In line with his exegetical program he begins by explaining troublesome biblical terms, devoting the major portion of the first 49 chapters of the first part of the Guide to this task. Representative of his exegesis are his comments on the term "image of God" (zelem Elohim), found in the opening section of Genesis. Some have argued, Maimonides states, that since man was created in the image of God, it follows that God, like man, must have a body. He answers the objection by showing that the term zelem refers always to a spiritual quality, an essence. Hence, the "image of God" in man is man's essence, that is his reason but not physical likeness (Guide 1:1).
DIVINE ATTRIBUTES
Maimonides then takes up the question of God's attributes (Guide 1:50–60). The Bible describes God by many attributes, but it also states that God is one. If He is one in the sense of being simple, how can a multiplicity of attributes be ascribed to Him? Medieval philosophers held that attributes applied to substances are of two kinds: essential and accidental. Essential attributes are those that are closely connected with the essence, such as existence or life; accidental attributes are those that are independent of the essence and that may be changed without affecting the essence, such as anger or mercifulness. Medieval logicians generally agreed that accidental attributes introduce a multiplicity into that which they describe, while they disagreed concerning essential attributes. Some held that essential attributes are implicitly contained in the essence and, hence, do not introduce multiplicity; others held that they provide new information and, hence, produce multiplicity. Avicenna was an exponent of the latter view, holding that essential attributes, particularly existence, are superadded to the essence. Maimonides accepted Avicenna's position on this point. Maimonides came to the conclusion that accidental attributes applied to God must be interpreted as attributes of action, that is, if it is said that God is merciful, it means that God acts mercifully; and essential attributes must be interpreted as negations, that is, if God is said to be existing, it means that he is not nonexistent.
(See also God, Attributes of).
EXISTENCE, UNITY, AND INCORPOREALITY OF GOD
Prior to Maimonides, Islamic and Jewish Kalam philosophers had offered arguments for the existence, unity, and incorporeality of God and for the creation of the world. Maimonides summarized the teachings of the Kalam philosophers in order to refute them (Guide 1:71–76). In the case of the existence, unity, and incorporeality of God, Maimonides held that these are legitimate philosophic issues, but that the Kalam philosophers, relying on categories of the imagination rather than reason, had not solved them correctly. In the case of creation he held that to demonstrate the creation or eternity of the world lies outside the competence of the human mind.
Maimonides prefaces his own proofs for the existence, unity, and incorporeality of God with 25 metaphysical and physical propositions, which he considers to have been demonstrated in the philosophic literature of his days. To these he adds a 26th proposition, namely, that the world is eternal. However, it appears that this proposition does not reflect Maimonides' own belief concerning the origin of the world (see below), but serves, rather, a methodological function. It can be seen readily, Maimonides implies, that if it is assumed that the world is eternal, the existence of God can still be demonstrated (Guide 2, introd.).
EXISTENCE
To demonstrate the existence of God, Maimonides makes use of four proofs current in his day: from motion, from the composition of elements (also a kind of argument from motion), from necessity and contingency, and from potentiality and actuality (causality). The common structure of all of them is that they begin with some observed characteristic of the world, invoke the principle that an infinite regress is impossible, and conclude that a first principle must exist. For example, Maimonides begins his first proof, that from motion, by noting that in the sublunar world things constantly move and change. These sublunar motions, in turn, are caused by celestial motions which come to an end with the motion of the uppermost celestial sphere. The motion of that sphere is caused by a mover that is not moved by another mover. This mover, called the Prime Mover, is the last member in the chain of causes producing motion. Maimonides uses the following example as an illustration. Suppose a draft of air comes through a hole, and a stick is used to push a stone in the hole to close it. Now the stone is pushed into the hole by the stick, the stick is moved by the hand, and the hand is moved by the sinews, muscles, etc., of the human body. But one must also consider the draft of air, which was the reason for the motion of the stone in the first place. The motion of the air is caused by the motion of the lowest celestial sphere, and the motion of that sphere, by the successive motions of other spheres. The chain of things moved and moving comes to an end with the last of the celestial spheres. This sphere is set in motion by a principle which, while it produces motion, is itself not moved. This is the Prime Mover, which for Maimonides is identical with God.
Maimonides then turned to the nature of the Prime Mover. Four possibilities exist: Either the Prime Mover exists apart from the sphere, and then either corporeally or incorporeally; or it exists within the sphere, and then either as distributed throughout it or as indivisible. It can be shown that the Prime Mover does not exist within the sphere, which rules out the last two possibilities, nor apart from it as a body, which rules out the third. Hence, it exists apart from the sphere and must be incorporeal. Maimonides shows, further, that there cannot be two incorporeal movers. Thus, it has been established that the Prime Mover exists, is incorporeal, and is one.
Maimonides' proof from necessity and contingency rests on the observation that things in the world are contingent, and that they are ultimately produced by a being that is necessary through itself. This proof was first formulated by Avicenna and was rejected by Averroes (Guide 2:1; for a more popular discussion of Maimonides' conception of God, and his attributes, see Yad, Yesodei ha-Torah, 1–2).
Creation
Maimonides next turned to the incorporeal intelligences, which he identified with the angels to the celestial spheres (Guide 2:2–12), and then to creation (Guide 2:13–26). On the last subject he begins by enumerating three theories of the origin of the world: that of the Torah, that the world was created by God out of nothing; that of Plato and others, according to which God created the world out of preexistent matter; and that of Aristotle, according to which the world is eternal. A major portion of the discussion is devoted to showing that Aristotle's and his followers' proofs of the eternity of the world are not really proofs. From an analysis of Aristotelian texts Maimonides attempted to show that Aristotle himself did not consider his arguments as conclusive demonstrations but only as showing that eternity is more plausible than creation. Maimonides' own position is that one can offer plausible arguments for the creation of the world as well as for its eternity. From this it follows that a conclusive demonstration of the creation or the eternity of the world lies beyond human reason; the human mind can only offer likely arguments for either alternative. However, an examination of these arguments reveals that those for creation are more likely than those for eternity, and on this basis Maimonides accepts the doctrine of creation ex nihilo as his own. An additional reason is that Scripture also teaches creation. Maimonides' intellectual daring is apparent in his statement (ch. 25) that had the eternity of the world been demonstrated philosophically, he would not have hesitated to interpret the Bible accordingly, just as he did not hesitate to interpret anthropomorphic terms in the Bible allegorically. He also states that the principle of creation is the most important one after that of God's unity, since it explains the possibility of miracles and similar occurrences. It should be noted, however, that some interpreters understand Maimonides' esoteric teaching as propounding the eternity of the world.
If the world was created, will it come to an end at some future time? He answers in the negative and adds that the future indestructibility of the world is also taught in the Bible (Guide 2:27–29). Maimonides concludes this phase of the discussion with an explanation of the creation chapters at the beginning of Genesis and a discussion of the Sabbath, which in part is also a reminder of the creation.
Prophecy
In the introduction to the Guide Maimonides incidentally discussed the nature of the prophetic experience, likening it to intellectual illumination. In the present section (Guide 2:32–48) he is interested in the psychology of prophecy and its political function. He begins by listing three possible theories of how prophecy is acquired: that of the unsophisticated believer, who holds that God arbitrarily selects someone for prophecy; that of the philosophers, according to which prophecy occurs when man's natural faculties, particularly his intellect, reach a high level of development; and that of Scripture, which specifies the same development of natural faculties but adds dependence on God, Who can prevent someone from prophesying, if He so desires. According to this last view, God's role in prophecy is negative, rather than positive.
Maimonides defined prophecy as an emanation from God, which, through the intermediacy of the Active Intellect, flows first upon man's intellectual faculty and then upon his imagination. While a well-developed imagination is of little significance for the illuminative experience of the prophet, it is central to his political function. In line with the views of the Islamic Aristotelians, particularly al-Farabi, Maimonides conceives of the prophet as a statesman who brings law to his people and admonishes them to observe it. This conception of the prophet-statesman is based on Plato's notion, found in the Republic, of the philosopher-king who establishes and administers the ideal state. For Maimonides the primary function of prophets other than Moses is to admonish people to adhere to the Law of Moses; this requires that the prophets use the kind of imaginative language and parables that appeal to the imagination of the masses. Maimonides characterizes three personality types: philosopher, who uses only his intellect, the ordinary statesman, who uses only his imagination, and the prophet, who uses both.
Though he discusses the phenomenon of prophecy extensively, Maimonides mentions Moses, the chief of the prophets, only in passing in the Guide. However, in his halakhic writings he singles out Moses for special discussion. Moses, he states, differed so much from other prophets that he and they had virtually only the name "prophet" in common. Moses' prophecy is distinguished from that of the other prophets in four ways: other prophets received their prophecy in a dream or vision, Moses received his while awake; other prophets received their prophecy in allegorical form, Moses received his directly; other prophets were filled with fear when they received prophecy, Moses was not; other prophets received prophecy intermittently, Moses received it when he wished (Hakdamah le-Ferek Helek, Principle 7; Yad, Yesodei ha-Torah, 7:6; cf. Guide 2:35). Moses also differed from other prophets and legislators in that he conveyed a perfect law, that is, one that addressed itself not only to man's moral perfection but also to his intellectual perfection by requiring the affirmation of certain beliefs.
Nature of Evil
Maimonides begins the third part of the Guide (introd. ch. 1–7) with a philosophic interpretation of the divine chariot (merkavah); this exposition brings to a close that part of the Guide that deals with speculative matters, that is, physical and metaphysical topics (Guide 3:7–end). Next he turns to practical philosophy, discussing evil and providence first.
Maimonides accepts the neoplatonic doctrine that evil is not an independent principle but rather the privation, or absence, of good. Like the Neoplatonists and other monists he had to accept this position, for to posit an independent principle of evil was to deny the uniqueness and omnipotence of God. There are three kinds of evil: natural evils, such as floods and earthquakes, which man cannot control, social evils, such as wars, and personal evils, the various human vices, both of which man can control. Natural evils are infrequent, and, hence, the majority of evil in the world, which is caused by man, can be remedied by proper training. Maimonides also argues against those who hold that the world is essentially evil, stating that if one looks at the world at large, rather than at one's own pains and misfortunes, one finds that the world as a whole is good, not evil (Guide 3:8–12).
Divine Providence
Maimonides discusses divine omniscience and then turns to the related question of divine providence. He distinguishes between general providence, which refers to general laws regulating nature, and individual providence, which refers to God's providential concern for individual men. He lists four theories of providence that he rejects: the theory of Epicurus (see Epicureanism), which states that everything that happens in the world is the result of chance; that of Aristotle (really that of the commentator Alexander of Aphrodisias), which states that there is only general, not individual, providence; that of the Islamic Asharites (see Kalam), which states that the divine will rules everything—this is equivalent to individual providence extended to include all beings, animate and inanimate; and that of the Mutazilites (see Kalam), which states that there is individual providence extending even to animals but not to inanimate objects. Last, Maimonides discusses the attitude toward providence of the adherents of the Torah. They all accept man's free will and God's justice. To these principles some more recent scholars (Maimonides had in mind the geonim, most likely Saadiah) have added the principle of yissurin shel ahavah ("afflictions of love"), which explains that God may cause suffering to a righteous person in order to reward him in the hereafter. Maimonides rejected it, however, stating that only an unjust God would act in this manner, and asserted that every pain and affliction is a punishment for a prior sin. Finally, Maimonides gave his own position: there is individual providence, and it is determined by the degree of development of the individual's intellect. The more developed a man's intellect, the more subject he is to divine providence (Guide 3:16–21). Maimonides used this theory of providence in his interpretation of the Book of Job, in which the characters of that book represent the various attitudes toward providence discussed above (Guide 3:22–23).
Nature of Man and Moral Virtue
Maimonides' final undertaking in the Guide is his explanation of the Law of Moses and its precepts. But this account is based on his philosophy of man, which he summarizes only in his "Shemonah Perakim." From this summary it is clear that Maimonides' philosophy of man was one current among Muslim Aristotelians. Man is composed of a body and a soul, the soul, particularly the intellect, being the form of the body. The soul, which is unitary, contains five basic faculties: nutritive, sensory, imaginative, appetitive, and rational. Of these faculties, the appetitive and rational are important for the good life and for happiness on earth and in the hereafter. Man attains happiness through the exercise of moral virtues to control his appetites and by developing his intellectual powers. In Maimonides' discussion of morality he follows Aristotle in holding that virtuous action consists of following the mean, but he holds that all should go to the extreme to avoid pride and anger (Yad, Deot, 2:3). While in his halakhic writings Maimonides embraced a morality of the mean, in the Guide he advocates a more ascetic life, and he particularly recommends curbing the sexual drive. As in Aristotelian thought, the moral virtues serve only a preliminary function, the final goal being the acquisition of intellectual virtues.
(For another discussion of Maimonides' moral philosophy, see Yad, Deot.)
Law of Moses
In the Guide 3:26–49 Maimonides discusses the reasons of the commandments. Maimonides considers a distinction made by Mutazilite philosophers, Saadiah among them. These philosophers had divided divine law into two categories: rational commandments, such as the prohibitions against murder and theft, which the human mind can discover without revelation; and revealed commandments, such as prayer and the observance of holidays, which are neutral from the point of view of reason and can be known only through revelation. Maimonides understands this position as implying that the revelational commandments come from God's will rather than His reason. Against this view, Maimonides argues that all divine commandments are the product of God's wisdom, though he adds that some are easily intelligible (mishpatim), and others intelligible only with difficulty (hukkim). However, Maimonides adds that particular commandments have no rational principle behind them and are commandments only because God willed them.
Maimonides postulates two purposes of the Law: the well-being of the soul (intellect) and the well-being of the body, by which he means man's moral well-being. The former is acquired through true beliefs; the latter, through political and personal morality. The beliefs which a man must accept are graded according to his intellectual ability. There are also true beliefs, such as the existence of God, His unity, and His incorporeality, which everyone must accept regardless of intellectual ability; and there are beliefs, such as that God gets angry at those who disobey Him, which have primarily a political function and are considered necessary beliefs. Ordinary men will accept the Law only if they are promised rewards or threatened with punishment, and it is the function of the necessary beliefs to provide such motivation. They are unnecessary for the philosopher, who obeys the Law because it is the right thing to do regardless of consequences.
Although reasons for general moral laws can readily be found, it is more difficult to explain the numerous ritual laws found in the Bible. Maimonides explains many of them as reactions to pagan practices, and he makes use of his extensive familiarity with such books as the Nabatean Agriculture, which describe such practices (see Commandments, Reasons for). Thus, for example, he explains the biblical prohibition against wearing garments made of wool and linen combined as a reaction to a pagan practice requiring priests to wear such garments. Maimonides also considers certain commandments as concessions to historical situations, such as those dealing with sacrifice. Worship without animal sacrifices is preferred, but it would have been unrealistic to require the Israelites leaving Egypt to give up sacrifices altogether. Hence the Bible commanded sacrifices, restricting, however, the times and places for them and permitting only priests to offer them. We should not infer from this, however, that Maimonides believed in a progressive development of Jewish law; in fact, he codifies all of rabbinic law in his Mishneh Torah. The Guide concludes with a supplementary section on the perfect worship of God and man's perfection.
Eschatology
Eschatology is barely mentioned in the Guide, although Maimonides developed it fully in other works. Following traditional Jewish teachings, he deals with the Messiah and messianic times, the resurrection of the dead, and olam ha-ba ("the world to come"). He proceeds characteristically by stripping these occurrences of supernatural qualities as much as possible. The Messiah is an earthly king, descended from the house of David. He will bring the Jews back to their country, but his major accomplishment will be to bring peace and tranquility to the world, thereby facilitating full observance of God's commandments. The Messiah will die of old age and be succeeded by his son, the latter, by his son, and so on. No cataclysmic events will take place during messianic times, but the world will continue in its established natural order. Maimonides calculated the year of the coming of the Messiah ("Iggeret Teiman"), although he generally opposed speculations of this kind (Hakdamah le-Ferek Helek, principle 12; Yad, Melakhim, 12:2—uncensored edition).
During messianic times the dead will be resurrected with body and soul reunited though later they will die again. (For his affirmation of this doctrine in reply to criticism that he rejected it, see above.) Undoubtedly, the central notion of Maimonides' eschatology is his account of olam ha-ba. In his view the intellect, but not the body, has an afterlife, and in that afterlife the intellect is engaged in the contemplation of God. Generally, he speaks of incorporeal intelligences (plural), implying that immortality is individual, but there are passages which suggest that immortality is collective, that is, in the world to come there exists only one intellect for all mankind (Hakdamah le-Ferek Helek; Yad, Teshuvah, 8–10, Guide 1:41; Treatise on Resurrection).
Basic Principles of Judaism
Maimonides' intellectualism is reflected in the formulation of 13 principles that in his view every member of the Jewish community is bound to accept (see Articles of Faith). Did he intend these principles as a means of developing the intellects of the masses, thus enabling them to share in olam ha-ba, or as a political expedient, that is, to make the masses aware of intellectual issues so that philosophers can live safely in their midst? Proponents of both views are found among Maimonides' interpreters (see A. Hyman, in: A. Altmann (ed.), Jewish Medieval and Renaissance Studies (1967), 119–44).
Influence
Maimonides' Guide, as has been noted, profoundly influenced the subsequent course of medieval Jewish philosophy. Among the extensive literature that arose were numerous full and partial commentaries on the Guide, most of them still unpublished. However, four of these have been printed and they appear many times with the Hebrew text of the Guide. They are those of Profiat Duran (Efodi), Shem Tov ben Joseph Ibn Shem Tov, Asher Crescas, and Isaac Abrabanel. In addition, the following commentaries have appeared in print: Moreh ha-Moreh by Shem Tov ibn Falaquera, which also contains corrections of Ibn Tibbon's Hebrew translation based on the Arabic original (edited by M. L. Bisseliches, 1837); Ammudei Kesef and Maskiyyot Kesef exoteric and esoteric commentaries respectively, by Joseph Kaspi (edited by J. F. Bach, 1848); and a commentary by Moses Narboni (all three reprinted in Sheloshah Kadmonei Mefareshei ha-Moreh, 1961). Samuel ibn Tibbon composed a philosophic glossary on the Guide entitled Perush me-ha-Millot ha-Zarot asher be-Ma'amarei ha-Rav, which has also been printed many times. One aspect of the commentary literature is the attempt to reconcile Maimonides' views with the divergent ones of his contemporary Averroes. Of commentaries and notes that have appeared on the Guide in more recent times are those of Solomon Maimon's Givat ha-Moreh (edited by Samuel Hugo Bergman and N. Rotenstreich, 1966), the notes in S. Munk's French translation of the Guide, and the Hebrew commentary in Ibn Shmuel's edition.
In addition to its significance for medieval Jewish philosophy, the Guide also had a formative influence on modern Jewish thought. Maimonides provided a first acquaintance with philosophic speculation for a number of philosophers of the Enlightenment period and served as a bridge for the study of more modern philosophy. Moses Mendelssohn is a case in point. In addition, Maimonides became a symbol for their own philosophic endeavors; he had attempted to introduce the spirit of rationalism into Jewish teachings during medieval times, just as they tried to do in their own time. Among modern thinkers influenced in some way by Maimonides are, in addition to Mendelssohn and Solomon Maimon (c. 1752–1800), Nahman Krochmal, Samuel David Luzatto (who opposed Maimonides' rationalism), S. L. Steinheim, Hermann Cohen, and Ahad Ha-Am.
Maimonides exercised an extensive influence on Christian scholastic thought. Among these scholastics are Alexander of Hales, William of Auvergne, Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas, Meister Eckhart, and Duns Scotus. These scholastics generally quote Maimonides by name, but sometimes they cite his views anonymously. Giles of Rome composed a treatise entitled Errores philosophorum about 1270 (edited by J. Koch, with an English translation by J. O. Riedl, 1944), the 12th chapter of which is devoted to a refutation of Maimonides' views. (For Maimonides' influence on scholastic philosophy, see B. Geyer, Die patristische und scholastische Philosophie (1928), index; E. Gilson, History of Christian Philosophy in the Middle Ages (1955), index; Kaufmann, Schriften, 2 (1910), 152–89; Jacob Guttmann, in: Moses ben Maimon, J. Braun et al. (editors), 1 (1908), 135–230; and see also other studies by Jacob Guttman, Issachar Joel, and Isaac Husik.)
In early modern times Maimonides influenced the secular philosophers Baruch Spinoza (see H. A. Wolfson, The Philosophy of Spinoza (1954), index) and Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz.
[Arthur Hyman]
AS PHYSICIAN
Maimonides was probably first taught medicine by his father, but, as stated above, during the seven years which his family spent in Fez, Maimonides probably had the opportunity to pursue his medical studies and mingle with well-known physicians. In his "Treatise on Asthma" he describes discussions with the Jewish physician Abu Yusuf b. Mu'allim and with Muhammad, son of the famous Avenzoar, and others. From his commentary on drugs it may also be concluded that he received his basic medical education in Morocco. He refers to "our physicians in the West" and to Morocco and Spain. Most of the names of drugs are given there not only in Arabic but also in Berber and Spanish. The only authors quoted by name are Spanish-Moroccan physicians (Ibn Juljul, Ibn Wafid, Ibn Samajun), who lived one to two centuries before him, and his older contemporary al-Ghafiqi. Maimonides was certainly very familiar with Arabic translations of the writings of Greek physicians as well as with the writings of the older Arab physicians, for he himself condensed some of them.
That Maimonides was highly regarded as a physician among the Muslims is evident from the statements of the historians Ibn al-Qifti (c. 1248) and Ibn Abi U\aybia (c. 1270) as well as of the physician Abd-al-Latif of Baghdad, who visited Maimonides when he was in Cairo in 1201. A song of praise which was written by a grateful patient, Said b. Sana$ al-Mulk, has been preserved by Ibn Abi U\aybia:
Galen's art heals only the body
But Abu-Amran's [Maimonides'] the body and the soul.
His knowledge made him the physician of the century.
He could heal with his wisdom the sickness of ignorance.
If the moon would submit to his art,
He would free her of the spots at the time of full moon,
Would deliver her of her periodic defects,
And at the time of her conjunction save her from waning.
(Translation taken from B. L. Gordon, Medieval and Renaissance Medicine (1959), 235.)
Moreover, from certain statements made by Ibn Abi U\aybia, it is clear to us that Maimonides also lectured on medicine and taught disciples such as his own son Abraham, as well as Joseph b. Judah ibn Shamun, and Rashid al-Din.
Maimonides classified medicine into three divisions: preventive medicine; healing of the sick; and care of the convalescent, including invalids and the aged. His medical teachings, based on the then prevailing humoral pathology as taught by Hippocrates and Galen, are of a strictly rational character. He disapproved strongly of the use of charms, incantations, and amulets in treating the sick, and was outspoken against any blind belief in authority. He encouraged his disciples to observe and reason critically and insisted on experiment and research. In his "Treatise of Asthma" Maimonides stresses that the physician is important not only during sickness but also when the body is healthy. Unlike any other craftsman, the physician must use art, logic, and intuition. Maimonides also added that the physician must be able to take a comprehensive view of the patient and his circumstances in order to make a diagnosis of both his general condition and of diseases of individual organs.
Except for part of his Galen compendium, all of Maimonides' medical writings, most of which were apparently written in Arabic in Cairo during 1190–1204, have been preserved. The majority of these works were translated into Hebrew and Latin and helped to spread his fame in the West.
(1) Al-Mukhta\arat is a compendium of the works of Galen for teaching purposes, of which only three, in Arabic, have been preserved.
(2) A commentary by him on the Aphorisms of Hippocrates, which had been translated into Arabic by the ninth-century translator Hunayn ibn Ishaq, in general follows Galen's commentary; it has been only partially preserved in two defective Arabic manuscripts.
(3) Fu\ul Musa ("The Aphorisms of Moses") is possibly the most famous and most widely quoted of all Maimonides' medical writings. It was translated into Hebrew under the title Pirkei Moshe, in the 13th century. In this work Maimonides included a large number of medical aphorisms and sundry information, mostly from Galen's own writings or his commentaries on Hippocrates, but also from Arab authors. On speaking of the relation between the right-hand part of the heart and the lungs (1:55), Maimonides seems to have touched on the lesser circulation, without, however, venturing further afield. The passages in 1:19 as well as 8:57 and 62 strongly indicate that he was speaking of arterioles connecting the arteries and the veins.
(4) Sarh asma$ al-uqqar is a commentary on drugs, the manuscript of which was found in Istanbul in 1932. It consists of 56 pages of 17 lines each. In the introduction Maimonides deals with the necessity of identifying drugs by their popular names. He then lists, in alphabetical order, about 350 remedies, mainly derived from plants. The Arabic names are often followed by Greek and Persian terms as well as colloquial Spanish, Moroccan, Egyptian, and Berber names. The so-called "Prayer of a Physician" was not written by Maimonides but was added later.
(5) Fi al-Bawasir is a work on hemorrhoids and was written for a young aristocrat.
(6) Fi al-Jimaa, a treatise on sexual intercourse, was written for the sultan Omar son of Nur al-Din.
(7) Maqala Fi al-Rabw ("Treatise on Asthma") was written in 1190. Maimonides regards bronchial asthma as largely due to nervousness, and believes that some people thus inclined react strongly to certain irritants. Correct diet and spiritual treatment, he says, have a beneficial effect on the asthmatic.
(8) Kilab al-Sumum wa al-Mutaharriz min al-Adwiya al-Qitala ("On Poisons and Their Antidotes"), a very famous manuscript, includes a classic description of the various symptoms of poisoning and is of value even today. Maimonides is the first to distinguish between the various types of snake venoms and suggests the establishment of collections of antidotes in state pharmacies. For snakebites he advises cautery, local tourniquets, rest, and general treatment against shock.
(9) Fi Tadbir al-Sihha ("Guide to Good Health"), a treatise on hygiene, is one of the most popular of Maimonides' works. It was written in 1198 for the Egyptian sultan Afdal Nur al-Din Ali, who suffered from attacks of depression accompanied by physical symptoms. Maimonides teaches that physical convalescence is dependent on psychological well-being and rest. He stresses the necessity of hygienic conditions in the care of the body, physical exercise, and proper breathing, work, family, sexual life, and diet, and suggests that music, poetry, paintings, and walks in pleasant surroundings all have a part to play toward a happy person and the maintenance of good health.
(10) Maqala Fi Bayan al-Arad ("Explanation of Coincidences") was also written for the sultan Afdal Nur al-Din Ali, who requested an explanation of the causes of his continued depression. It is a short treatise on the subject, in 22 chapters.
In the formation of his opinions on man's spiritual well-being, Maimonides' scientific and psychological experiences are closely interwoven with his religious principles. Physical and biological rules are integrated with moral and ethical principles in his world of values. To integrate oneself consciously into the natural biological laws of the world represented for Maimonides the fulfillment of the idea of walking in the paths of science and wisdom and achieving true knowledge and perfect bliss.
[Suessmann Muntner]
AS ASTRONOMER
Maimonides did not compose a systematic treatise on astronomy, but his competence in the subject is well illustrated by a number of passages in the Moreh Nevukhim (Guide of the Perplexed) and by his treatise on the calendar, The Sanctification of the New Moon (Kiddush Rosh Hodesh in Mishneh Torah). In the Guide there are references to technical aspects of Ptolemaic astronomy, and it is revealed that Maimonides' disciple Joseph ibn Sham$un had studied Ptolemy's Almagest under him. Maimonides states that he was acquainted with the son of Jabir ibn Aflah of Seville (d. c. 1150), the author of a well-known astronomical text which takes exception to some Ptolemaic principles. He also refers to a lost work of Ibn Baja (d. 1139), concerning the principles of astronomy, that he had obviously read with care. According to Maimonides, the physical difficulties of eccentric and epicyclic spheres need not concern the astronomer, whose task is merely to propose a theory in which the motions of the planets and the stars are uniform and circular, and conform to observation. In the Sanctification, Maimonides describes the calendric rules that were used in the time of the Sanhedrin, the rules of the fixed calendar that apply to this day, and the astronomical determination of the beginning of the month. The third section again shows Maimonides to be competent in the technical aspects of Ptolemaic astronomy, although he made no original contribution to the subject. In 1194 Maimonides wrote a letter addressed to the rabbis of southern France strongly denouncing astrology as a pseudoscience opposed to the true science of astronomy, an opinion rarely expressed by Jewish scholars in the Middle Ages. In this letter Maimonides stated that astrology was the first secular subject he studied, and that he had read everything available in Arabic on the discipline.
[Bernard R. Goldstein]
TRANSLATIONS
Among Maimonides' halakhic works, Y. Kafah published a new Hebrew translation of the Sefer ha-Mitzvot (1958) from the original Arabic, on which C. B. Chavel based his English version, The Commandments: Sefer ha-Mitzvoth of Maimonides, 2 vols. (1967). An English translation of the entire Mishneh Torah, The Code of Maimonides, started to appear in 1949 in the Yale Judaica Series, and by 1971, ten volumes had appeared.
The Arabic original of the Guide was edited, with a French translation, by S. Munk (Le guide des MgarMs, 3 vols. (1856–66); ed. by I. Joel, based on Munk's text, 1931). Samuel ibn Tibbon's Hebrew translation was first printed in Rome before 1480, and again in Venice, 1551, Sabionetta, 1553, and frequently thereafter. Yehudah Even-Shemuel (Kaufmann) edited part of this text with introductions and a commentary in three volumes (1935–59). The translation of Judah al-Harizi was edited, with notes, by L. Schlossberg in three parts (1851–79; 19123). Both versions were translated into Latin: that of Ibn Tibbon by J. Buxtorf (Basel, 1629) and Al-Harizi's edited by A. Justinianus (Paris, 1520). The Guide was translated into English by M. Friedlaender, 3 volumes (1885; 19042; repr. 1956), and by S. Pines (1963), with introductions by L. Strauss, and the translator C. Rabin published an abridged translation with an introduction by J. Guttmann (1952). German translations were undertaken in the 19th century (R. Fuerstenthal, pt. 1, 1839; M. Stern, pt. 2, 1864; S. Scheyer, pt. 3, 1838), all based on the Hebrew version of Ibn Tibbon. There is also a modern Hebrew translation from the Arabic by A. Siman and E. Mani (1957), and versions in Italian, Spanish, and Hungarian.
I. Efros published an English translation of Maimonides' Treatise on Logic (in: PAAJR, 8, 1938), together with part of the Arabic original and three Hebrew versions. He also published a revised edition of the full Arabic text (in Hebrew alphabet) based on the edition of M. Tuerker (in: PAAJR, 34 (1966), 155ff.). J. Gorfinkle translated the Shemonah Perakim into English under the title The Eight Chapters of Maimonides on Ethics (1966). The Iggeret Teiman was translated by Boaz Cohen, Moses Maimonides' Epistle to Yemen (1952), edited by A. S. Halkin. S. Muntner edited versions of many of Maimonides' medical works: Perush le-Firkei Abukrat ("Commentary on the Aphorisms of Hippocrates" (1961), with an Eng. introd. (Pirkei Moshe bi-Refu'ah ("Maimonides' Medical Aphorisms" (1959), with Eng. introd.); Sefer ha-Kazzeret (1940; Treatise on Asthma, 1963); Sammei ha-Mavet (1942; Treatise on Poisons and Their Antidotes, 1966); and Hanhagat ha-Beri'ut ("Guide to Good Health" (1957); Regimen Sanitasis, Ger., 1966). Volume I of The Medical Aphorisms of Moses Maimonides (ed. F. Rosner and S. Muntner) appeared in 1970. Selected letters of Maimonides are to be found in English translation in F. Kobler (ed.) Letters of Jews Through the Ages, 1 (1952), 178–219 (see also introduction, lx–lxi).