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Medieval Judaism

This paper was prepared for a graduate course in Jewish Studies

by W. John Walsh 

Question 2:  The Desirability of a New Jewish Legal Code

 

“This is the teaching that Moses set before Israelites…”[1]

 

One of the primary goals of halakhah[2] is to “simplify human life by reducing the complexity of alternatives to one straightforward choice: to obey or not to obey.”[3]    However, since it has been over 400 years since Joseph Caro published the Shulhan Arukh—“the code of Jewish law par excellence,”[4] many of the issues surrounding halakhic decision making are no longer simple.  It has been suggested that because the Shulhan Arukh was written so long ago, it is outdated and a new legal code is needed to address the needs of the Jewish community today.  After all, “practical halakhah is shaped by human beings within the workings of historical time and must therefore bear the imprint of temporal and material considerations.”[5]  In other words, the present legal codes were written by and for people of another time and place. 

Conservative Jews—joined by a small number of Orthodox Jews[6]—want to “preserve and foster the halakhic process as essential to Judaism,” [7]  but they are fully cognizant that a more energetic approach is needed to address many facets of our modern world, especially changes to technological, economic, scientific, and sociological conditions.  These environmental changes have raised “new questions concerning the viability today of traditional Jewish law.”[8] The supporters of a new legal code believe that all the differences between the modern and pre-modern worlds make it difficult to determine what the Talmud really means “in light of contemporary thinking and living.”[9]  Unless the needed amendments occur, the halakhah is in danger of becoming “fossilized.”[10]

Since “the ultimate function”[11] of Jewish community leaders past and present is to provide guidance,  it is suggested that a “chief rabbinical council”[12] be created to craft a new code.  On the other hand, there is a widespread aversion in halakhic circles, especially among Orthodox Jews, to discuss the possibilities of change in the halakhah, and even condemnation of the person who raises the question. [13]  The very suggestion of a new legal code itself raises many issues. 

What is the basis for authority in Jewish law?  Can Jewish law be considered universally and objectively true?  What is the correct relationship between the Talmud (the text), the Rabbinate (the interpreters), and the people (the community)?  What happens if there is a conflict between them?  How do you deal with a large diversity of Jewish practices in various places around the world?  Is Jewish law true to all times and all people or does it vary according to the needs and even desires of the local community?  How would a person translate the law to the community?  How does a person go from belief to observable actions?  How does a person utilize modern methods of textual inquiry and examination of the classical Jewish sources?  How does a person handle the inevitable “commentaries and supercommentaries which have just the opposite effect intended by the authors of the original code.”[14] While these are many questions, they can all be consolidated into one great question:  How does a person justify change while maintaining the continuity of tradition?

It is an individual Jew’s concept of revelation that determines how he answers these questions and whether he might believe a new legal code is actually needed for today’s world.  A review of classical Jewish sources seems to indicate that two distinct theologies of revelation exist around halakhic decision making.[15]   The first approach, called the monolithic or monologic view, assumes “revelation is a monologue of God; the Torah and its commandments are imposed on passive recipients and there is no human element either in revelation or in the products of revelation.”[16]  On the other hand, the second approach, called the dialogic view, assumes “revelation to be a dialogue between God and human beings.”[17]  This approach “assumes the presence of a human element both in the revelatory event and in the products of revelation—the Torah and its commandments.”[18] In Medieval Judaism, the Sephardim generally held the monolithic view and the Ashkenazim generally held the dialogic view.  In today’s world, Orthodox Jews generally hold the monolithic view and Conservative Jews generally hold the dialogic view. 

Since the Sephardim believed the Torah was objective truth, they naturally believed only one option existed for any question.  They accepted without question the “infallibility of Scripture in its rabbinic interpretation and the infallibility of the talmudic rabbis as the sole and final arbiters of halakhah.”[19]  Since they believe that the earlier rabbis interpreted the Torah correctly, and there could only be one correct interpretation, any change would be from truth to falsehood.  Therefore, those holding this mentality today are not likely to support a new legal code.  Since the answers to all the old questions will forever remain the same, the present codes are “authoritative and binding”[20]  and can provide the required certainty on legal issues . Since the Talmud is “the final authority and can never be countermanded,”[21] the slogan adopted by Orthodoxy states “the Halakhah never changes.”[22] 

People opposing a new legal code suggest the desire to craft new halakhah is simply “an attempt to justify one’s unlawful concessions to the demands of modern society.”[23]  Furthermore, they oppose a new code because they believe even “the slightest amendment to the existing Code would open the floodgates and release a torrent of reckless demands which would change the whole character of Jewish life and sweep away many of the hallowed traditions that are an inseparable part of Jewish practice and thinking.”[24] 

Instead, those opposed to a new code suggest that where the present codes do not directly deal with certain facets of our modern world, especially technological advances, they can be clarified through one of the other literary forms of Jewish law (e.g., commentary, responsa, rabbinic legislation, or custom).  While they recognize that some injustice results from the way the halakhah is presently practiced by some groups, they also believe that no one can create a code to govern a people whose hearts are not pure.  Therefore, the better solution is to seek for self-purification and the anachronisms in the law will take care of themselves.

Also, they believe a new code might challenge the established objective standard of law contained in the present codes.  If a new code was created, Jews would be forced to use subjective judgments to determine what should be left in and what should be left out.  Despite certain shortcomings in addressing the modern changes, the traditional development of the present code brings together thousands of years of community experience which is far superior to the work of a few contemporary individuals who understand modern technology.  It is tradition that “sets a pattern, a hierarchy of concepts, accepted norms, and mores, which guide the individual in thought and action.”[25]  Since a new code would not necessarily have this collection of community experience, it might not provide the Jewish community with the authoritative resource needed to answer their questions. One cannot overestimate value of the experience of a four thousand year old tradition.  On the other hand, it has been pointed out that “earlier authorities were often freer to interpret and legislate then were their later successors”[26]  and time and distance does not necessarily add to the validity of the opinion expressed.

It should be noted that not all Sephardim agreed with this hard-line position.  For example, Maimonides was “criticized for undermining the unique importance of the halakhah” [27] with his views.  He believed that while no argument can be raised against the received material of Halakhah, a later generation can in principle debate the halakhot newly derived from previous ones.[28]  Many traditionalists considered Maimonides’ philosophical writings to be heretical.[29]  

In contrast to the general Sephardic analytical position, the Ashkenazim held the sociological dialogic view and believed that while both the Torah and law were true, there were a plurality of legal options available for every decision. They would argue that the failure to take into account different environments “emphasize form over substance.”[30]  They would also suggest that to insist the law cannot change denies the “‘history’ of the halakhah,”[31] which in turn leads to the denial of significant events in modern history such as the founding of the State of Israel. 

In their view, the halakhah historically has been “sensitive and yielding—though assuredly in a limited way—”[32] to the evolving needs of the community and must continue to do so.  They would argue that “tradition clearly contemplates that the law would be preserved by having people ask teachers questions regarding proper practice in novel or difficult situations.”[33]  For example, in the Middle Ages, “recognized halakhic authorities of the eleventh and twelfth centuries justified certain dispensations by resorting to a distinction between the heathens of the talmudic era and the gentiles of the ‘present age,’ i.e., medieval Christians.”[34]  Since “Mishnah, Gemara, and Midrash supported the development of law through argument, debate, and painstaking exploration of cases in the past, then those same devices should be used to make the law relevant for today.”[35]

Therefore, those holding this view would be much more likely to support a new code as long as it would take into account the customs and needs of each local community.    For example, while in the medieval Jewish mentality there existed a distinction between Jew and Gentile, and ethical norms “applied basically only to one’s own kind,”[36] Jewish spiritual leaders of that time period had to enforce proper standards of conduct toward the non-Jewish world.[37]  Those who did not deal fairly and honesty with the dominant Muslim and Christian communities endangered the entire Jewish community by their actions.   Jewish public institutions and communal leaders “reiterated warnings and admonitions [that]stressed the fact that the life and death of the whole community rested in the hands of its individual members.”[38]  They demanded all Jews act “in the interest of the community as a whole.”[39]  In this case, the allowable practices were adjusted to take into account contemporary needs.  Those holding the dialogic view would argue that their proposals follow these historical patterns and are within the tradition.

It may seem odd that one having the Ashkenazic mentality might support codification at all, since the Ashkenazim did not believe the present codes were simply summaries of previously revealed divine will, as espoused by the Sephardim.  Instead, they believed the codes were actually just the views of the codifier.  However, those with the Ashkenazic mentality might accept a new code with the understanding that the codifiers did not have the authority to write codes which were applicable to all Jewish people for all time, regardless of circumstance.

 In the dialogic view, the new code—like the old ones—would not be “binding but represent precedents and guides” [40] in halakhic decision making.  It would simply be one of many references to which the devout Jew could turn when he needed to learn the correct interpretation of Jewish law in a given circumstance. The new code would act as a guide, not only in accounting for the environmental changes of modern society, but also in developing a new understanding of an old problem (e.g., the place of women in liturgy).  In this mentality, the Torah and halakhah are simply raw materials to build the divine will of today.  Also, while the Sephardim viewed it as a truism that legal objectivity was good, the Ashkenazim did not accept this supposition as necessarily right and valid.  Therefore, the new code would need to be updated in accordance with local community needs. 

It should be noted that those people espousing a new code do not want change for its own sake.  They have “proper appreciation of the great caution that is required if continuity is to be preserved.”[41]  However, if the way halakhah is presently “practiced results in the kind of injustice that reasonable persons would see as detrimental to Judaism itself,”[42] then change must occur.  This updated code would ensure that the law was not frozen and the natural and organic process of legal development would occur.  The need for continual reflection about the applicability of the code in a particular case would ensure that the new code would not encourage laziness in the Jewish people by not pushing the people to figure out problems for themselves. Also, the codes would need to allow for local custom and the individual Rabbi’s autonomy, a basic Talmudic principle in the Ashkenazic mentality.  The Ashkenazim believed that God gives wisdom to all ages and all times and the contemporary Rabbis’ opinions and interpretations are just as valid as the ancients.  While distance and time seem to build validity in the minds of some naturally conservative, others would argue against this view. 

Even some Orthodox Jews believe the halakhah should be amended to take into account the needs of modern society.  They believe that if qualified masters of the halakhah were to carry on their traditional role of being the judges of halakhic questions according to their own insights and taking cognizance of the situation at hand, then “the wind would be taken out of the sails of Conservative and Reconstructionist Judaism.”[43] 

In conclusion, it is unlikely that a new code will be developed in the foreseeable future.  Certainly, as Jacobs noted:

“The problems are many and stubborn: of the rights of women; of dialogue and relationship with non-Jews; of life in a technological society; and in Israel, the needs of a modern democratic state in which religious coercion is neither possible nor desirable and for which the methods adopted by the great halakhists are no longer applicable.”[44]

However, the gap between the dialogic and monologic views is such that it would be almost impossible to construct a code which would be agreeable to all parties, especially given the monologic deference to existing law.  Support for the status quo is too strong for there to be a realistic chance of creating a new code in the near future.  However, it is also likely that the old Code will continue to have less and less relevance for those of the modern world, and that which loses relevance also “will lose its influence.”[45]

 

Question 3:  Help Wanted – A Medieval Jewish Philosopher

 

“The confidant mind you guard in safety….”[46]

 

Medieval philosophy was distinct from modern philosophy in the topics it addressed.  Modern philosophy typically denotes “a rather limited set of topics and approaches to these topics.”[47]  However, Medieval philosophy included a much broader set of subjects including theology, problems in logic, physics, psychology, astronomy, and ethics.[48]  To summarize, “most courses that are offered in modern universities would qualify prima facie as instances of what medieval scholars called ‘philosophy.’”[49]

Medieval Jewish philosophers were not simply “general philosophers who happened to be Jews or of Jewish extraction.”[50]  Neither were they simply followers of the ancient Rabbinic “peculiar mode”[51] of reasoning used to create Jewish thought and theology in the “thickness of exegesis.”[52] 

Instead, medieval Jewish philosophers were Jews caught in the multicultural world of a galut.[53]  Many Jews believed that their banishment from the land of their nativity to the lands of strangers was “a punishment inflicted by God on his people because of their sins.”[54]  However, other people looked upon their situation as a mixed blessing.  They believed the multicultural surroundings created an environment that promoted intellectual creativity through the Jewish community’s very difficult circumstances.[55]  In other words, great works were forged in the furnace of affliction.

While some Jews “could acquire influence and even real power in non-Jewish society”,[56] the Jewish community as a whole “were ruled over by Muslims or Christians, so that their status at best was that of a tolerated minority.”[57]  From their ancient dominance in the land of Israel, “Jewish society had been reduced by the medieval era into a minority group that merely formed an appendage”[58] to the Muslim or Christian dominated society.[59]  They needed a new approach “to ensure their survival in a religious world that was in almost every way Christian (or Muslim).”[60]  Heschel noted that “philosophy, to be relevant, must offer us a wisdom to live by—relevant not only in the isolation of our study rooms but also in moments of facing staggering cruelty and the threat of disaster.”[61]  It was the job of the medieval Jewish philosopher to provide the new approach needed to survive their dangerous situation.    

In addition to the problems of multiculturalism and outside intellectual pressures from other religious and philosophical traditions, medieval Jewish philosophers had to deal with Jews questioning their own faith.  The philosophers believed that philosophy was a new tool which could be used to strengthen the Jewish community by resolving conflict between the dictates of reason and the dogmas of religion.[62]  One of the reasons that philosophy had not been in use largely before within the Jewish community because Hebrew was a concrete language and not very effective in explaining abstract ideas.  As Jews became dispersed throughout the world and the languages of other people became the everyday language of Jews, philosophy began to take hold.

It has been suggested that the rise of Islam caused “the creation of a new type of Jew.”[63]  As Muslims (and later Christians)  incorporated ancient Greek philosophical ideas into their religious tradition, Jews living in communities dominated by those traditions found that philosophy served as a needed neutral ground for interfaith dialogue.  The new type of Jew was one who could navigate this neutral ground as successfully as the Muslims and Christians.  While Jews had been exposed to Hellenistic ideas in previous ages, they had not “radically  altered their philosophy of life or their religious outlook.”[64]  Their literary works always remained faithful to the spirit of traditional Judaism.  However, the environmental context surrounding the rise of Islam presented Jews with new problems.

While Jews had lived as minorities in other cultures before (e.g., in Babylon), the polytheistic religion of those cultures was always significantly different from the ethical monotheism of Judaism.[65]  However, with the rise of Islam and Christianity, they faced monotheistic religions similar to their own in many respects.[66]  Some would even argue that Islam and Christianity were offshoots of Judaism.  Given the similarities between the monotheistic faiths, the Jews needed additional tools with which to hold interfaith dialogues and keep Judaism separate and chosen.  Philosophy provided those tools.

The assimilation of Greek philosophy into Jewish thought started with the adoption of Arabic as the vernacular language of Jews living in Muslim countries.  This linguistic switch created an “intellectual transformation”[67] of “radical importance.”[68] Many of the medieval Jewish philosophers—Maimonides, Ibn Janah, and Judah Halevi among others—“criticize themselves”[69] for not using Hebrew, but they continued to write in Arabic even after doing so.  While several reasons have been suggested for this usage, the most likely explanation is that there was simply “no conscious motive behind the widespread use of Arabic.”[70]  Since there were no explicit commandment in the Torah requiring the use of Hebrew, the Jews may not have had any reason not to use Arabic, a sister Semitic language better suited for their abstract philosophical and religious writings.[71]  Since they came across Greek philosophy in Arabic instead of its native Greek, these philosophers did not seem to associate the Talmudic warnings against Greek wisdom with the concepts and ideas they were learning via their adopted Islamic culture.[72]

However, medieval Jewish philosophers did not believe they were introducing foreign thinking into Judaism with the use of philosophy.  Instead, they believed that philosophy was a useful methodology to analyze the truths already part of Judaism.  In their minds, reason and revelation were “parallel sources of truth”[73] and did not conflict.  They were simply clarifying already held religious beliefs of Judaism and not really adding to the sacred canon. 

It was a cardinal principle that “philosophy and scripture were both true, and since truth is one, the two could not but agree.”[74] Therefore, one of the most important traits for a potential medieval Jewish philosopher was the ability to reconcile “two apparently independent sources of truth”[75]  to ensure that they did not conflict when examined closely.  As a matter of faith, they believed the sacred texts contained “nothing contrary to reason or human experience, so that anything that appears to be unreasonable can be explained and made rationally acceptable.”[76]  Therefore, when revelation gave things which were not rational, the philosopher took it upon himself to explain the revelation in such a way that it could be brought back into conformity with reason.  For example, in the Hilkhot Deot, Maimonides gives an “attempted synthesis between the Jewish ethical ideal and the Greek.”[77]  The extraordinary success of Maimonides’ works indicates how deeply the Jews needed “a harmonization of their faith with the philosophies of the time.”[78]

Medieval Jewish philosophers believed that they could use philosophy to perform the following worthy tasks:

(1)  Understand the reality and universal truths of Judaism. In the view of the Aristotelian philosopher, the goal of human existence is to bring the human mind in conformity with God’s mind.  God was an intellectual, non-anthropomorphic being who spent all of his time thinking.  Therefore, the highest form of worship of God was to imitate him by spending as much time as possible thinking as well.  Maimonides believed that “the first task of religious philosophy . . . is to clear away the semantic obstructions in order to discover the real meaning of the words and the general ideas of the Divine.”[79]

(2)  Clarify and focus the ideas and concepts of Judaism. The Jewish philosophers believed that “the advance of Greek Philosophy had a refining effect upon Jewish religious thought.”[80]  They also believed that faith required both the heart and mind to be true.  They believed that philosophy helped them explain why they believed in Judaism in a logical and systematic manner.  Philosophy also helped save people from the absurd by clarifying the principles of Judaism.

(3)  Analyze the ideas of thinkers—mainly Christians and Muslims—for logic and truth.  Christianity and Islam were “rival claimants to religious truth.”[81]  The philosophers believed philosophy was a useful tool to help fulfill the Jewish obligation to defend Judaism against polemical attacks made by other religious or philosophical traditions.  Philosophy had to be employed not only to demonstrate the truths of revelation in general but the “exclusive authenticity” [82] of Judaism in particular. It was “a way of asserting an unflagging conviction that the Jews retained God’s undivided love as well as the original religious verity.”[83] 

While Jews faced severe persecution under the rule of Muslim rulers as well, the situation within Europe was more poignant since “it is not only that Christians were attacking Jews, but Christianity itself was attacking Judaism.”[84]  It was true that the Church’s Jewish policy fluctuated between “guarantees and threats,”[85] but medieval Christian theology was firmly rooted in the idea that the Jewish people were guilty of deicide, and thus had earned the scourge of God upon themselves. 

In their polemical debates, Jews used philosophy to overcome the perceived “inferior conception of God in Judaism”[86] caused by the extravagances of the aggadah.  It should be noted that while these embellishments to the Biblical text were considered serious departures from scripture by Muslims and Christians, the Jews were “generally aware that they were wresting new meanings from the text but were convinced at the same time that they were in no way displacing its original meaning.”[87]  The rabbis believed they were simply “uncovering what [was] already there.”[88] 

In a way, the very presence of the Jew in their community “compelled people of every faith to think for themselves.”[89]  Christians and Muslims, as offshoots of Judaism, were compelled to constantly “reexamine and justify the bases” [90] of their own beliefs.  In response, Jewish philosophers increased their level of polemical sophistication. 

(4)  Organize the chaotic theological expressions of Biblical Israel and the Rabbinic period into a clear system of thought.  The people of the medieval world had linguistic and cultural heritages very different from those that lay behind the Babylonian and Palestinian Talmuds and therefore “naturally encountered obstacles in understanding the works, as well as difficulties in accepting everything in them without reservation.”[91]  The philosophers believed that philosophy was a methodology which allowed one to overcome these differences and understand the true, inner meaning of the Bible and Talmud.  For the philosophers, too many people had confused, incorrect, or heretical theological ideas (e.g., God has a body) because they didn’t understand the language of the sacred texts and philosophy could provide this understanding.  For example, philosophy could help people understand which literal expressions in classical sources were intended to be understood figuratively.[92]  Bahya believed that the Bible did not originally explain truth in philosophical terms because the majority of mankind would not have understood the subject.[93]  Maimonides, as a member of the intellectual elite[94], sought to use philosophy to “clear the Bible and the Talmud of theological inconsistencies and contradictions and to establish what he [regarded] to be their true intent and purpose.”[95]  He then attempted to explain the true meaning of the literature based on his enhanced philosophical understanding. 

(5)  Self-understanding.  Since man was made in the image and likeness of God,[96] the philosopher could comprehend himself by obtaining an intellectual knowledge of his Creator.

(6)  Define Judaism and uncover its essence.  One of the major foci of medieval Judaism was the rationales for observance.  While observance was considered necessary, it was no longer considered sufficient by the philosophers.  The motivations and reasons were deemed just as important as actual observance.  This caused the philosophers to seek new meanings in old texts.

(7)  Uncover the universal reality not yet discovered within earlier canonical writings. The philosophers believed that “the greatest mitzvah is the study of the Torah”[97] and philosophy provided the tools necessary to understand the hidden meanings of sacred Jewish texts.  Since mysteries were restricted to the intellectual elite, philosophy provided the mechanism to ensure that only the worthy were able to access the secrets of heaven.  In addition, because only part of the textual records had survived, philosophy was deemed a tool useful in recovering what was lost. Since they believed the ideas and logical structures of Aristotelian philosophy were true, it was one of the contemporary tools that helped them “better fathom the opinions of the early authorities.”[98]

In accomplishing these goals, philosophy took a number of different literary forms including books, commentaries, the poetic form, and the dialogue form.  The major medieval Jewish philosophers often used several different forms to express their ideas. 

Not everyone supported the use of philosophy within Judaism.  While some people took a neutral view of philosophy within Judaism, others—mostly mystics and some legal scholars—viewed it as an outside contaminant.[99]  To be a successful medieval Jewish philosopher, one had to overcome their objections.

Those opposed to philosophy believed that since Judaism already had the complete will of God, as expressed in the written and oral Torah, philosophy was superfluous at best and dangerous to faith at worse.  They believed that the tradition was true and no truth existed outside of the tradition. Since philosophy was not found in either the Bible or the Talmud, it had no place in Judaism.  Furthermore, some aspects of Aristotelian philosophy actually contradicted the revealed word.  For example, while the tradition believed that God created heaven and earth[100], Aristotle believed the world was eternal in nature and there was no room in his ideas for the creation of the world.[101]    Another example of contention was over the corporeality of God.  While many philosophers believed it was heretical to think of God as a corporeal being, some people responded by saying that many “greater and better people”[102] have believed so, based on “Scriptural passages and Aggadic statements.”[103]  While philosophers did their best to harmonize reason and revelation, many Jews felt with some reason that in this “work of harmonization religion was generally at a disadvantage; that in the desire to equate the teachings of scripture with the conclusions of logic, the mental processes of man enjoyed more respect than the divine guidance of scripture.”[104]

In the eyes of those opposed to it, philosophy was a diversion to true devotion.  Philosophy was only the personal opinion of the philosopher and not necessarily the consensus of the community which was very important to the dialogic Jewish thought.  Furthermore, philosophy was not rational or objective truth.  While philosophy was based on empirical or objective truth, the senses could be deceived.  While philosophy never reached final conclusions, it still created an aura of arrogance around the philosopher instead of the humility commanded by God.[105]  Philosophical thinking processes tended to reduce humans to only intellectual beings who did not need to couple action with their thoughts.  This was detrimental to the requirements of observance.  It should be noted that opposition to philosophy did not come from the unlearned.  Many of those opposed to the inclusion of philosophy within Judaism were “well versed in the sciences and no strangers to philosophy” [106] themselves. Their opposition was not due to either ignorance or narrow-mindedness, but due to their belief that the particular philosophies involved were “the attempt to make the tradition subservient to an alien mistress.”[107]

Not only did the philosophers have to validate the inclusion of philosophy within Judaism, they also had to deal with some recurring religious problems.  As atheism become more prevalent, the philosopher needed to prove the existence of God.  They believed to establish God’s reality beyond the shadow of a doubt was “a religious obligation.”[108]  Even on a personal level, the medieval Jewish philosophers were not content only “to believe that God exists; they insisted upon knowing that God exists.”[109]   Historically, six major arguments have been used to prove the existence of God: 

(1)  The ontological argument which assumes that God is the greatest conceivable being.  Assuming the existence of innate ideas, this argument proposes that for God to be the greatest conceivable being, he must exist both inside and outside of the mind and therefore must exist.  The biggest problem with this argument is that someone could imagine the greatest conceivable tree (or something else), but that does not mean that the tree actually existed somewhere in the world.  This argument was not popular within Medieval Judaism.

(2)  The cosmological argument assumes that there is no infinite regress and therefore there must have been a first cause who is God.  It is based on the principle of cause and effect in Aristotelian physics and was the most popular argument used by medieval Jewish philosophers.  The biggest problem with this argument is that the idea that there can be no infinite regress is simply an assumption.  For example, Gersonides believed “there is no reason why a physical power cannot keep on moving the heavenly bodies eternally.”[110]

(3)  The teleological argument, or argument from design, suggests that “the universe is too complex and well-functioning to have arisen by chance, therefore there must be a creator and God must exist.”[111]  This argument was the second most popular argument in Medieval Judaism.  Philosophers devoted considerable effort to solving the problem of evil, which has traditionally been considered the greatest stumbling block of this argument.  Another objection to this argument was that even if there originally had been a Creator of the universe, that in and of itself, was not evidence that the Creator was still around and active in the affairs of mankind.

(4)  The moral argument suggests that because the notion of good and evil must have come from somewhere, then God must exist.  However, great all-pervasive evils such as the Holocaust cannot be explained by this argument and therefore it is not traditionally used within Judaism today.

(5)  The argument of universal consent states that the majority of people cannot be wrong and since the majority of the people believe in God, then God must therefore exist.  This argument was not popular within Judaism most likely because Jews were always in the minority in their dispersed communities.  For example, if one could argue that God must exist because most people believed in him, one could also argue Jesus was God if the majority of the population in the community was Christian.

(6)  The argument of religious experience assumes that since someone had an experience with God then God must exist.  This belief in God acquired through personal experience and then passed to others by family tradition.[112]  While one might think this would be popular within Judaism because of the Sinai experience, it was rarely used, most likely because Christians and Moslems could use the same argument for their founding theophanies which supposedly superseded Judaism.

The philosopher was the ultimate renaissance man who was adapt in all the learning of his time.  Philosophy itself was one of several genres that arose in Medieval Judaism to deal with the new problems they faced, especially being minority groups in Islamic and Christian dominated communities.  Philosophy was especially useful as a polemic device against other religions and philosophical traditions.  Finally, philosophers believed they were able to use philosophy to clarify the already existing tenants of Judaism and bring a closer person closer to God by refining his thinking processes.    

Question 6:  The Meaning of Life in Medieval Jewish Ethics

 

“Do what is right and good in the sight of the Lord…”[113]

 

Herberg noted that “in Hebrew religion, ethics is central and ultimate for man...”[114]  Taking its foundation from Rabbinic Judaism which “is rooted in the ethical principles of justice and mercy,”[115] Jewish law is essentially tied to ethical behavior.  It is almost impossible to “surgically separate” Jewish law and ethics.[116]  In fact, rather than trying to do so, halakhists throughout the ages have actually “sought to narrow the boundaries between law and ethics.”[117]  However, “the wellsprings of Jewish morality flow not so much from the Halakhah as from that other branch of Judaism, the Aggadah.”[118]  It was the stories and narratives which were the beginnings of Jewish ethics, though it was the prescriptions of the Halakhah with the preachments of the Aggadah that worked together “to shape the moral and ethical character of the observant Jew.”[119] 

Through these stories, people learned that a person could progress into a better person or regress into a worse person.  As explained by Maimonides, it is “possible for a man to acquire character traits by learning from the example of others or by reflection and training.”[120]  They also learned that the true purpose of life was to improve his or her character traits until he or she reached perfection or completion.  Sherwin and Cohen noted:

“The soul is a seed implanted within each of us.  Each person is like a tree that may choose whether to bring forth its own fruit.  At life’s end, one may return a diminished form of what one received, or more than one received, at life’s beginning.  One has a choice to corrode or create, to pollute or to improve, what one has initially been granted.”[121]

Therefore, the art of soul crafting should be undertaken with utmost seriousness.  Since time in mortality is limited, “one cannot wait even a day or two to exert oneself in the pursuit of human fulfillment.”[122]  This fulfillment or realization is obtained by observing three aspects of ethical behavior:  a proper relationship to God, a proper relationship to the individual, and a proper relationship to others.[123]  Doing “what is ‘right and good’ signifies the moral values of Judaism, especially as they relate to interpersonal relationships.”[124]  Each of these noted relationships is not exclusive of the others and operates in a synergistic fashion.

The beginning point of the soul-forging process is the acceptance of “God’s sovereignty.”[125] Maimonides believed “man’s greatest good is to know God, and to know him is to worship and love him.”[126]  Once a man humbles himself before God, he will desire to fulfill God’s desires and wishes.   Since “God wishes man to pursue justice and mercy, to have a proper regard for his fellows, and to make his contributions towards the emergence of a better social order,”[127] it is the responsibility of the person to develop a perfect moral character. This goal can be summarized by saying that a person should never do something in private that he or she would be embarrassed to have publicly known. 

The opposition to completing this task comes from within the individual person.  Classical Jewish sources suggest that “man was created with two opposing inclinations or tendencies, one impelling him toward the good and the other toward evil.”[128]  “Sin is caused by the evil inclination (yezer ha-ra), the force in man which drives him to gratify his instincts and ambitions.”[129]  When we yield to the temptation to do that which God has deemed unlawful for us, we descend into a state of alienation from God which “signifies the rupture of our personal relationship with God, a betrayal of the trust he places in us.”[130]  When a person sins, the sin taints him and “arouses in him a feeling of self-loathing.”[131]  Some medieval kabbalists believed the evil forces (i.e., Sitra Ahra, a “counter-sefirot”) were continually strengthened through human sin.[132]

On the other hand, while sin is inevitable due to mankind’s inherent spiritual weakness, God is gracious and desires our penitence so much that when “a man has a thought of repentance, it instantly reaches the throne of God.”[133]  A person’s remorse and resolve can be heightened by submitting himself to the Torah which is the “antidote to the poison of the yetzer ha-ra.”[134]  Regarding repentance, Bahya says:

“The elements essential to repentance are four in number:  contrition of one’s former sins, determined avoidance of them, admitting them and asking pardon for them, and undertaking in heart and conscience never to repeat them.”[135]

By pursuing a continual state of repentance, a man or woman is placed upon the path of a virtuous life constantly working towards human fulfillment and perfection.  Such a person will realize his or her potential.  Jewish spiritual leaders “constantly reminded their flock of the moral values of Judaism and the importance of middot tovat, desirable character traits.”[136]  However, for a man to repent, he must be aware of the evil nature of his actions.[137]  For this reason, he must commit himself to studying the Talmud so that he may know the will of his God for him.  Maimonides believed that “the quintessence of human perfection is intellectual perfection.”[138]  As we improve our thoughts, the desires of our hearts eventually lead to our speech and actions.  Therefore, purifying our thoughts will also prevent much correction of speech and action later on.

We are purified as we continue to strive to keep the commandments. The commandments are “a rational legislation designed to produce a virtuous people.”[139]  While some people believed that some commandments were irrational, Maimonides held that is was “possible to discern a rational divine purpose in all the mitzvot given to Moses.”[140]   While the Jewish leaders “decried the perfunctory performance of the commandments devoid of an awareness of their inner meaning,” [141] they also believed is it “better to act imperfectly than not at all; for there is always hope that some day the act will be performed as it should.”[142]  And if a person fulfills the commandments often enough, eventually he will perform them “for their own sake.”[143]  But the reasons for the commandments, or the rationales for observance, were always foremost in the Medievals’ minds.  For example, in his Mishnah Torah, before Maimonides even attempts to codify how the mitzvot are to be observed, he explains “the fundamental principles of the Torah and the Hilkhot De’ot (which may be interpreted as the Laws Concerning Man’s Virtues and Vices).[144]  The quest for the inner meaning was always there for most medieval Jewish philosophers.

The Jewish mystics believed that “the quest for human perfection is penultimate to achieving devekut, communion with the divine.”[145]  Furthermore, they believed that as a person purified himself, this communion developed into “mystic union.”[146]  They even believed that by performing good acts that could affect God in a positive way. 

One interesting way that ethics were expressed in the Middle Ages was through the use of ethical wills.  While ethical wills undoubtedly had deep roots in the traditional talmudic and midrashic literature, they were “mainly a product of medieval ideologies—i.e., Jewish philosophy, Ashkenazi Hasidism, and Kabbalah.”[147]  The aim of ethical wills was to allow parents to pass along the family religious tradition in a concrete way to their posterity and remind their offspring of their responsibilities to that tradition. Parents hoped their ethical wills would inspire their children to reconcile themselves to follow the ethical way of life.  For example, in his ethical will, Ibn Tibbon reminded his son that that the child had failed to properly develop his academic understanding of the tradition.[148]  He encouraged his son to repent and return to proper traditional observance. 

Ethics is a very important aspect of Judaism.  It is inseparably connected to law and was foremost in the minds of both the mystics and the philosophers, although in different ways.  The Medievals were very concerned with not only how one acted but the reasons behind observance.

 

 

Question 7:  The Medieval Jewish Philosopher View of God

 

“God is not man…”[149]

 

            What would a medieval Jewish philosopher say about God?  Since a pivotal concern of the medieval Jewish philosophical tradition was “the predication of divine attributes,”[150] the Medievals spent considerable time on this issue.  Because his “conception of God”[151] derived largely from the views of Aristotelian Greek philosophy, Maimonides—“the most prominent Jewish philosopher of the Middle Ages”,[152] attempted to answer this theological question within a linguistic or grammatical framework. 

Instead of answering “Who is God?”, he attempted to form a sentence with God being the subject, for when we pray, God is always “the subject.”[153]  This technique demonstrates a subtle departure from pure Aristotelian philosophy by Maimonides.  For Aristotle, as a thinker, God is always an object.  However, the devout Jew strives “not to acquire objective knowledge, but to deepen the mutual allegiance of man and God.”[154] 

Maimonides had great difficulty filling in the predicate of the sentence because of two assumptions that he made. First, Maimonides believed that mankind can say nothing about God’s essence or nature because it is beyond the ken of human understanding.  In his view, “God’s essence remains unknowable.”[155]  “To try to characterize Him is to run the risk of impugning His unity.”[156]  As Saadya taught previously, we may only predicate “his existence, but not his essence.”[157]   Halevi considered “all designations of God as purely human constructions.”[158]  Thus the philosophers believed that when we predicate divine attributes, we are simply describing “human perceptions of God and not God himself.”[159] 

Second, Maimonides assumed that Judaism as a religion had to say something about God—for that is the business of religion.  However, he had difficulty speaking about the subject of God without defining God’s essence.  Maimonides believed “the metaphysical character of the divine mysteries, which cannot be thoroughly understood by any of us, cannot be conveyed to others without difficulty.”[160]  To resolve these two problems, Maimonides turned to the discussion of rhetoric in Greek philosophy, especially the works of Aristotle.

            Using Hellenistic philosophy as a guide, Maimonides suggested three ways that someone might legitimately say something about God:  The Use of Equivocal Provocation, the Use of Negation and Privation, and a Discussion of the Attributes of God’s Action.  In each case, Maimonides suggested ways to talk about God without actually saying anything about his essence, which was beyond the understanding of mankind.  Similarly, Saadya believed “the mind can grasp the conception of God as it grasps ideas of value, of good as distinguished from evil and of truth from falsehood, despite their inaccessibility to the senses.”[161]

            The use of equivocal provocation is founded upon Aristotle’s suggestion that there are two major relationships between the subject and the predicate in a sentence. The first relationship is when the subject and predicate are identical or equivalent.  In logic, this is known as a tautology.  For example, a bachelor is an unmarried man.  When a tautology exists, the predicate and subject can be reversed.  An unmarried man is always a bachelor. 

The second relationship is when the subject and predicate are not equivalent.  In other words, what you say in the predicate is true of the subject, but it is not essentially true.  The predicate is accidental and not a part of the subject’s essence. For example, it is the essence of a bachelor to be an unmarried man.  However, the color of a particular piece of paper is accidental and does not define the essence of the paper.  According to Maimonides, accidentals are not attributes of God.[162] 

When applied to God, the philosopher might suggest that when we create a predicate that equals the subject, thus creating a tautology, we are not really saying anything about the subject of God at all.  Therefore, this is a good way of predicating divine attributes.  In the predicate, we are only saying what is already in the subject, therefore we are not adding anything.

            This leads to the second of Maimonides’ suggested techniques:  the use of negation and privation.  Using the technique of negation, Maimonides believed that you could say something about God by saying what he is not instead of what he is.  For example, we may say God “is not weak, or not ignorant.”[163] If you can say enough things about what something is not, then eventually you will come to a closer understanding of what it is.  Other examples of negation might be saying someone can’t see or is without money.  Privation is the expression of negative attributes in a positive way.  For example, someone might be called blind or poor.  Maimonides believed that “qualities attributed to God in scripture have essentially this negative meaning, though as human evaluations of God they take a positive form.”[164]

When discussing God, Maimonides alone among the major medieval Jewish philosophers used a derivative of the Aristotelian philosophy known as equivocal predication or equivocal attribution.  In equivocal predication, terms used to describe God have a special meaning to God alone.  In the view of Maimonides, certain terms used to describe God have a changed connotation than when used in ordinary speech.[165]  To summarize, God is the only member in his class of beings and therefore terms used to describe him (e.g., power, holiness, unity) have peculiar meanings only to him.  Therefore, you cannot compare anything to God since he is a member of a class of which he is the only member.  For example, when you say God is powerful and an ox is powerful, the word powerful means something different when applied to God than when applied to the ox.    Many other philosophers, both within and without the Jewish community, disagreed with this approach.  However, Maimonides believed that without using distinctive language in reference to God you would no longer have a tautology and therefore you could not say anything at all about deity.  Saadya also believed that certain words “carry a different meaning when spoken of God then when applied to human beings.”[166]

Another technique to describe God was to use ambiguity, the opposite of equivocal.  For example, color is an ambiguous attribute.  In a religious context, an ambiguous description would be God is one or God is wise.  This brings up the issue of how language is used to convey ideas.  Medieval Jewish philosophers, especially Maimonides, believed one the goal of philosophy was to clear up the linguistic confusion which leads to conceptual confusion caused by discussing things in an unclear and imprecise manner.  Maimonides believed that much confusion in religion thinking “derives from the common misunderstanding of the religious vocabulary of the Bible.”[167] In the modern world, the school of linguistic philosophy shares this goal.

The third tactic of Maimonides is called the Attributes of Action.  With this technique, a person could say something about what God does without describing what he is or his essence . In the medieval mentality, what a person does is not necessarily related to his essence.  This contrasts with the modern mentality that a person is what he does.  For example, a person does not merely work at a bank, he or she is a banker.  For a medieval example of this principle, let’s assume heat is part of the essence of fire.  A person might notice how fire blackens wood, reddens tin, and whitens steel.  Then when asked to describe fire, the person might say that fire is something that blackens, reddens, and whitens.  He has described what fire does without describing its essence. Also, Saadya taught that “unlike the acts of man, which affect the doer, God’s actions do not affect him.”[168]

Now, having summarized the thinking processes behind their descriptions of God, let’s summarize what the Medieval Jewish philosophers actually taught about God.  Bahya taught “the Creator of the world is not multiple, not nonexistent and not created.”[169] “Each of these attributes implies the other two.”[170]  These three essential attributes—Existence, Unity, and Eternity—can be summarized as follows:

(1)  Saadya insists that God exists and “is living, omniscient, and omnipotent.”[171]  Sephardic liturgy taught:  “Thou art, but for Thine own essence, and for no other with Thyself.”[172]   He is alive not in the sense that he shares sentient life with men, but that “he is not dead…”[173] Maimonides believed “God may be understood as the Mind that generates, preserves and governs the universe.”[174]  God is “known through the universe”[175] through the “all pervasive”[176] nature of his spirit.  Yet God is unknowable and “man cannot attain to the full knowledge of his essence.”[177]  The philosophers tended to believe that “God exists but his absolute transcendence makes it folly to say more than that about him.”[178]  God “can be comprehended by himself alone.”[179] God is “powerful.”[180]  According to Halevi, God is wise and “nothing in God’s creation is without plan and purpose.”[181]  Amongst “the essential attributes of God, predicated by the medieval Jewish philosophers, was knowledge or wisdom.”[182]

(2)  God is United. The oneness of God was stressed in the Sephardic liturgy:  “Thou are One, the beginning of all computation, the base of all construction.”[183]  Saadya believed this aspect was so important that he tied it into a sense of religious Jewish identity by naming his faith the “Congregation of the Believers in the Unity of God.”[184]  Holding themselves to the views of ethical monotheism,[185] medieval Jewish philosophers taught that God is one and the absolute Unity.  “He was the ultimate generalization of things, expressed as the ultimate abstraction of number:  He was not limited by parts or bodily form: ‘All of Him is sight, all of him is understanding, all of him is hearing’.”[186]  He is “single and unique”[187] and the only member of his species.

(3)  God is eternal. Sephardic liturgy taught:  “Thou art, and before all time Though wert, and without place Thou didst dwell.”[188]  Other Jewish liturgy speaks of him as the “Lord of Infinity.”[189]  Saadya speaks of God as “Creator rather than First Cause.”[190]  Bahya taught that “the Creator is the First beginning, before whom there is no other beginning.”[191]  The philosophers who followed the neo-Platonic view believed “all reality stems from a single reality source, called the One or God, be a series of emanations, the last of which is the world of matter.”[192]  Philo believed “God is self-existent and self-sufficient.”[193] He “created and prepared everything in nature”[194] but yet is not “the creator of evil.”[195]  Stepping away from Aristotelian philosophy, Saadya believed God created the world “ex nihilo.”[196] Since God is perfect, then he must be static as well.  For that which is subject to change cannot be perfect.  Therefore, God’s thought processes “cannot undergo change”[197] and he also is beyond time and space and division.[198]  Maimonides taught that God was “purified of all human traits and feelings.”[199]  Saadya believed that “whatsoever is subject to change is doubtless material”[200] and therefore imperfect. Medieval Jewish philosophers believed that God is spiritual, did not have a body, and “found the tendency to divest God of anthropomorphisms.”[201]  They wanted to free “the Jewish conception of God from all material presentations.”[202]  Saadya taught that all of the anthropomorphic presentations of God in the Bible are “mere metaphors.”[203]  God’s lack of materiality did not lessen his power to govern the universe any more than the lack of materiality of the human psyche inhibits its ability to direct the human mind.[204]

Medieval Jewish philosophers following the mentality proscribed by Aristotle had great difficulty describing God because of his supposed abstract nature, which was beyond the understanding of the human mind.  They developed several techniques to help them say something about God because they recognized that it was the responsibility of religion to do so.  However, using their philosophical techniques, their views departed from the more traditional and accessible view of a personal God in Judaism.  As Heschel noted:

“Our goal is to ascertain the existence of a Being to whom we may confess our sins, of a God who loves, of a God who is not above concern with our inquiry and search for Him; a father, not an absolute.”[205]


(See Interfaith Relations home page; Jewish Studies home page)

[1] Deuteronomy 4:44 , JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, 2nd Edition. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1999.

 

[2] Halakhah, “the legal side of Judaism (as distinct from aggadah, the name given to the non-legal material, particularly of the rabbinic literature) embraces personal, social, national, and international relationships, and all the other practices and observances of Judaism.  (See “Halakhah.” Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.)

 

[3] Hartman, D., “Halakhah” Cohen A. and Mendes-Flohr, P, Ed., Contemporary Jewish Religious Thought.  New York:  The Free Press, 1987, p. 309.

 

[4] “Shulhan Arukh.” Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.

 

[5] Halivni, D., Peshat and Derash. New York:  Oxford University Press, 1991, p. 94.

 

[6] “In every  version of Orthodox Judaism, the Halakhah in its traditional form is sacrosanct as the sole guide for the application of the law to Jewish life. . . Conservative Judaism adopts a middle-of-the-road stance, accepting the traditional halakhah in broad terms but feeling free to allow historical considerations to have a voice in halakhic application.” “Halakhah,” (Jacobs, L.  A Concise Companion to the Jewish Religion.  New York:  Oxford University Press, 1999.)  Reform Judaism altogether denies the codification of Jewish law.  (See “Reform Judaism.” Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.)

 

[7] Jacobs, L., A Tree of Life:  Diversity, Flexibility, and Creativity in Jewish Law 2nd Edition.  Portland, Oregon: Littman, 2000, p. 220.

 

[8] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 1.

 

[9] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 246.

 

[10] Jacobs, L., A Tree of Life:  Diversity, Flexibility, and Creativity in Jewish Law 2nd Edition.  Portland, Oregon: Littman, 2000, p. 221.

 

[11] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 224.

 

[12] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 256.

 

[13] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 249.

 

[14] “Shulhan Arukh.” Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.

 

[15] Sherwin, B., In Partnership with God.  New York: Syracuse University Press, 1990, reprinted in Jewish Theology Background Readings Volume 2, p. 293.

 

[16] Sherwin, B., In Partnership with God.  New York: Syracuse University Press, 1990, reprinted in Jewish Theology Background Readings Volume 2, p. 293.

 

[17] Sherwin, B., In Partnership with God.  New York: Syracuse University Press, 1990, reprinted in Jewish Theology Background Readings Volume 2, p. 302.

 

[18] Sherwin, B., In Partnership with God.  New York: Syracuse University Press, 1990, reprinted in Jewish Theology Background Readings Volume 2, p. 302.

 

[19] Jacobs, L., A Tree of Life:  Diversity, Flexibility, and Creativity in Jewish Law 2nd Edition.  Portland, Oregon: Littman, 2000, p. 221.

 

[20] Sherwin, B., In Partnership with God.  New York: Syracuse University Press, 1990, reprinted in Jewish Theology Background Readings Volume 2, p. 329.

 

[21] Jacobs, L., A Tree of Life:  Diversity, Flexibility, and Creativity in Jewish Law 2nd Edition.  Portland, Oregon: Littman, 2000, p. 221.

 

[22] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 249.

 

[23] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 246.

 

[24] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 249.

 

[25] Katz, J., Tradition and Crisis.  New York:  Schocken, 1971, p. 18.

 

[26] Green, A., These Are the Words:  A Vocabulary of Jewish Spiritual Life.  Woodstock, Vermont:  Jewish Lights, 2000, p. 42.

 

[27] Hartman, D., Israelis and the Jewish Tradition.  New Haven, Connecticut:  Yale University Press, 2000, p. 126.

 

[28] Halbertal, M., People of the Book.  Cambridge, Massachusets:  Harvard University Press, 1997, p. 60.

 

[29] “The Ban of Solomon Ben Adret (on the Study of Philosophy),” in Jacob Marcus, ed., The Jew in the Medieval World.  New York:  Atheneum, 1969, p. 189.

 

[30] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 9.

 

[31] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 9.

 

[32] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 246.

 

[33] Dorff, E. and Rosett, A., A Living Tree:  The Roots and Growth of Jewish Law.  Albany, New York:  State University of New York Press, p. 303.

 

[34] Katz, J., Tradition and Crisis.  New York:  Schocken, 1971, p. 20.

 

[35] Dorff, E. and Rosett, A., A Living Tree:  The Roots and Growth of Jewish Law.  Albany, New York:  State University of New York Press, p. 303.

 

[36] Katz, J., Tradition and Crisis.  New York:  Schocken, 1971, p. 42.

 

[37] Katz, J., Tradition and Crisis.  New York:  Schocken, 1971, p. 40.

 

[38] Katz, J., Tradition and Crisis.  New York:  Schocken, 1971, p. 41.

 

[39] Katz, J., Tradition and Crisis.  New York:  Schocken, 1971, p. 41.

 

[40] Sherwin, B., In Partnership with God.  New York: Syracuse University Press, 1990, reprinted in Jewish Theology Background Readings Volume 2, p. 329.

 

[41] Jacobs, L., A Tree of Life:  Diversity, Flexibility, and Creativity in Jewish Law 2nd Edition.  Portland, Oregon: Littman, 2000, p. 220.

 

[42] Jacobs, L., A Tree of Life:  Diversity, Flexibility, and Creativity in Jewish Law 2nd Edition.  Portland, Oregon: Littman, 2000, p. 221.

 

[43] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 250.

 

[44] Jacobs, L., A Tree of Life:  Diversity, Flexibility, and Creativity in Jewish Law 2nd Edition.  Portland, Oregon: Littman, 2000, p. 231.

 

[45] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 250.

 

[46] Isaiah 26:3, JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, 2nd Edition. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1999.

 

[47] Samuelson, N., “Medieval Jewish Philosophy” in Holtz, B., ed., Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts, New York: Touchstone, 1984, p. 262.

 

[48] Samuelson, N., “Medieval Jewish Philosophy” in Holtz, B., ed., Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts, New York: Touchstone, 1984, p. 261.

 

[49] Samuelson, N., “Medieval Jewish Philosophy” in Holtz, B., ed., Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts, New York: Touchstone, 1984, p. 262.

 

[50] “Jewish Philosophy.” Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.

 

[51] Schechter, S., Aspects of Rabbinic Theology.  Vermont: Jewish Lights Publishing, 1993, p. 1.

 

[52] Fishbane, M., The Exegetical Imagination.  Cambridge, Massachusetts:  Harvard University Press, 1998, p.  8.

 

[53] “The Hebrew term galut expresses the Jewish conception of the condition and feelings of a nation uprooted from its homeland and subject to alien rule. The term is essentially applied to the history and the historical consciousness of the Jewish people from the destruction of the Second Temple to the creation of the State of Israel.” “Galut.” Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.

 

[54] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 236.

 

[55] For a discussion of how the social environment of Jews affected their creativity, see Grossman, A., “Social Structure and Intellectual Creativity in Medieval Jewish Communities (Eigth to Twelth Centuries),”  in Twersky, I. And Harris, J., ed. Studies in Medieval Jewish History and Literature III.  Cambridge, Massuchesets:  Harvard University Press, 2000.

 

[56] Katz, J., Tradition and Crisis.  New York:  Schocken, 1971, p. 200.

 

[57] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 238.

 

[58] Katz, J., Tradition and Crisis.  New York:  Schocken, 1971, p. 19.

 

[59] Classical Islam divided the world into two parts:  Dar al-Islam (the abode of Islam) and Dar al-Harb (the abode of war).  It was considered a privilege for non-Muslims to dwell within the abode of Islam and they were considered less than full citizens in many ways, including special taxation.  (See Cohen, A., Jewish Life Under Islam.  Cambridge Massachusetts:  Harvard University Press, 1984, p. 1.)  However, there were two fundamental distinctions for Jews living under Islam and Christendom. First, Jews living under the jurisdiction of Islamic rule were considered to be subject to Islamic law.  In contract, the medieval church tended to waive jurisdiction over Jews. Second, since Jews were the only infidel living continuously within Christian society, they were often singled out for both church and state regulation. (See Cohen, M., Under Crescent and Cross: The Jews in the Middle Ages.  Princeton, New Jersey:  Princeton University Press, 1994, p. 53.)

 

[60] Novak, D., Jewish-Christian Dialogue.  New York:  Oxford University Press, 1989, p. 4.

 

[61] Heschel, A., Who is Man?, California: Stanford University Press, 1965, p. 13.

 

[62] Samuelson, N., “Medieval Jewish Philosophy” in Holtz, B., ed., Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts, New York: Touchstone, 1984, p. 261.

[63] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 216.

 

[64] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 218.

 

[65] This statement refers to the institutional religion of Ancient Israel.  The popular religion of that time period may have shared many elements with their polytheistic neighbors.  (See “Monotheism,”  Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition, Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997; Irwin, W., "The Hebrews" H. Frankfort, ed. The Intellectual Adventure of Man. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1946, p. 244; Kaufmann, Y., The Religion of Israel. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1960, p. 81.)

 

[66]  While Islam is universally accepted as a monotheistic religion, many people feel that Trinitarianism is polytheism in disguise.  (See Novak, D., Jewish-Christian Dialogue. New York:  Oxford University Press, 1989, p. 59-60.)

 

 

[67]  “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 219.

 

[68] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 219.

 

[69] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 220.

 

[70] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 220.

 

[71] Hebrew and Arabic both descend from the Proto-Semitic language, although Arabic is descended from the Southwestern Semitic line and Hebrew descends from the Canaanite family of the Northwestern Semitic line. (See Pack, M., First Year Biblical Hebrew:  Hebrew 131, Provo, Utah: Brigham Young University, 1995, Appendix C.)

 

[72] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 219.

 

[73] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 236.

 

[74] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 245.

 

[75] Husik, I., A History of Medieval Jewish Philosophy.  New York: Meridian Books and Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1958, xiii.

 

[76] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 228.

 

[77] Jacobs, L., A Jewish Theology. New Jersey: Behrman House, 1973, p. 232.

 

[78] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 252.

 

[79] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 246.

 

[80] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 225.

 

[81] Cohen, M., Under Crescent and Cross: The Jews in the Middle Ages.  Princeton, New Jersey:  Princeton University Press, 1994, p. 161.

 

[82] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 246.

 

[83] Cohen, M., Under Crescent and Cross: The Jews in the Middle Ages.  Princeton, New Jersey:  Princeton University Press, 1994, p. 161.

 

[84] “Joseph Albo’s Sefer ha-Ikkarim,” Kellner, M., Solomon Goldman Lectures Vol. 6.   Chicago:  Spertus College Press, 1993, p. 148.

 

[85] Foa, A., The Jews of Europe After the Black Death.  Berkeley, California:  University of California Press, 2000, p. 44.

 

[86] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 234.

 

[87] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 247.

 

[88] Holtz, B., “Midrash” in Holtz, B., ed., Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts, New York: Touchstone, 1984, p. 185.

 

[89] “The European Age,” Roth, C., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 274.

 

[90] “The European Age,” Roth, C., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 275.

 

[91]  “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 223.

 

[92] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 235.

 

[93] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 241.

 

[94] Medieval Jewish philosophers believed that men were unequal in their very nature.  Therefore, not all men were capable of understanding and using philosophy in its proper context. Those with the moral and intellectual perfection necessary to use philosophy also deserved enhanced legal, social, and political standing in their minds. (See Melamed, A., “The Attitude Toward Democracy in Medieval Jewish Philosophy,” in Frank, D., Commandment and Community:  New Essays in Jewish Legal and Political Philosophy.  Albany, New York:  State University of New York, 1995, p. 175.)

 

[95] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 246.

 

[96] Genesis 1:26, JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, 2nd Edition. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1999.

 

[97] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 8.

 

[98] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 247.

 

[99] A few Jewish philosophers, such as Isserles—c (1525 or 1530–1572), Polish rabbi and codifier, one of the great halakhic authorities, believed philosophy was actually invented by ancient Jews, but subsequently lost.  In their view, since Plato actually learned philosophy from the Jews, it was an inherently Jewish way of thinking and therefore a legitimate part of the tradition.  Isserles himself took a neutral position towards philosophy.  Philo also believed that the Greek Philosophers acquired their wisdom from the Judaic tradition. See Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 226.

 

[100] Genesis 1:1. JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, 2nd Edition. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1999.

 

[101] Husik, I., A History of Medieval Jewish Philosophy.  New York: Meridian Books and Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1958, p. xxxiii.

 

[102] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 254.

[103] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 254.

 

[104] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 252.

 

[105] “The prophets condemn excessive pride, while they affirm the value of humility (Isa. 10:13, 57:15; Jer. 9:22; Ezek. 28:2; Ps. 51:18–19).” “Humility.” Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.  Moses Hayyin Luzzatto taught “as a rule, pride is an overweening sense of our own importance, and an inward belief that we deserve praise.” (See Mesillat Yesharim—The Path of the Upright.  Translated by Mordecai M. Kaplan.  Philadelphia:  Jewish Publication Society, 1966, p. 204.)

 

[106] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 255.

 

[107] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 255.

 

[108] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 178.

 

[109] Sherwin, B., Mystical Theology and Social Dissent.  East Brunswick, New Jersey:  Associated University Press, 1982, p. 56.

 

[110] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 191.

 

[111] Jacobs, L., Jewish Ethics, Philosophy, and Mysticism.  New York, Behrman House, 1969, p. 64.

[112] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 243.

 

[113] Deut. 6:18, JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, 2nd Edition. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1999.

 

[114] Herberg, W., Judaism and Modern Man. Vermont: Jewish Lights Publishing, 1993, p. 53.

 

[115] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 5.

 

[116] Sherwin, B. and Cohen, S., How to be a Jew, Northvale, New Jersey: Jason Aronson, Inc., 1992, p. xvi.  Also, it should be understood that a person cannot neatly separate ethics from the other elements of Judaism as well (e.g., philosophy and mysticism).  Most of the classical Jewish sources touch upon two or more of these genres in an integrated fashion.

 

[117] Jacobs, L., A Tree of Life:  Diversity, Flexibility, and Creativity in Jewish Law 2nd Edition.  Portland, Oregon: Littman, 2000, p. 168.

 

[118] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 5.

 

[119] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 7.

 

[120] Deot 1:2 of Hilkhot Deot.  Quoted in Jacobs, L., A Jewish Theology. New Jersey: Behrman House, 1973, p. 233.

 

[121] Sherwin, B. and Cohen, S., How to be a Jew, Northvale, New Jersey: Jason Aronson, Inc., 1992, p. xii.

 

[122] Sherwin, B. and Cohen, S., How to be a Jew, Northvale, New Jersey: Jason Aronson, Inc., 1992, p. xv.

 

[123] Sherwin, B. and Cohen, S., How to be a Jew, Northvale, New Jersey: Jason Aronson, Inc., 1992, p. xix.

 

[124] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 9.

 

[125] Jacobs, L., A Jewish Theology. New Jersey: Behrman House, 1973, p. 231.

 

[126] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 251.

 

[127] Jacobs, L., A Jewish Theology. New Jersey: Behrman House, 1973, p. 231.

 

[128] "Inclination, Good and Evil." Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.

 

[129] "Sin." Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.  Also, “[s]in is the result of allowing the yetzer ha-ra to gain the upper hand.” Jacobs, L., A Jewish Theology. New Jersey: Behrman House, 1973, p. 243.

 

[130] “Sin”, Elwell, W. ed., Evangelical Dictionary of Theology. Grand Rapids: Baker House Books, 1984, p. 1012.

 

[131] Luz, E., “Repentance” Cohen A. and Mendes-Flohr, P, Ed., Contemporary Jewish Religious Thought.  New York:  The Free Press, 1987, p. 788

 

[132] Cohn-Sherbok, D. and Cohn-Sherbok, L.,  Jewish and Christian Mysticism. New York:  Continuum, 1994, p. 43.

 

[133] Schechter, S., Aspects of Rabbinic Theology.  Vermont: Jewish Lights Publishing, 1993, p. 31.

 

[134] Jacobs, L., A Jewish Theology. New Jersey: Behrman House, 1973, p. 245.

 

[135] Bahya ben Joseph Ibn Pakudah, The Book of Direction to the Duties of the Heart.  Translated by Benard Martin.  London:  Routledge and Kegan Paul. 1973, p. 333.

 

[136] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 8.

 

[137] Bahya ben Joseph Ibn Pakudah, The Book of Direction to the Duties of the Heart.  Translated by Benard Martin.  London:  Routledge and Kegan Paul. 1973, p. 332.

 

[138] Sherwin, B., Mystical Theology and Social Dissent.  East Brunswick, New Jersey:  Associated University Press, 1982, p. 128.

 

[139] Matt, D., “The Mystic and the Mizwot,” in Arthur Green, ed., Jewish Spirituality, New York:  Crossroad Publishing Company, 1986, p. 371.

 

[140] Hartman, D., A Living Covenant. Woodstock, Vermont:  Jewish Lights, 1997, p. 90.

 

[141] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 7.

 

[142] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 7-8.

 

[143] Pesahim 50b.  Quoted in Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 8.

 

[144] Lewittes, M., Jewish Law:  An Introduction.  Northvale, New Jersey:  Jason Aronson, 1994, p. 9.

 

[145] Sherwin, B., Mystical Theology and Social Dissent.  East Brunswick, New Jersey:  Associated University Press, 1982, p. 124.

 

[146] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 249.

 

[147] “Ethical Wills.” Encyclopaedia Judaica, CD-ROM Edition. Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House Ltd., 1997.

 

[148] “The Ethical Will of Ibn Tibbon,” in Israel Abrahams, ed.  Hebrew Ethical Wills.  Philadelphia:  Jewish Publication Society, 1926, p. 56-59.

[149] Numbers 23:19, JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, 2nd Edition. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1999.

 

[150] Sherwin, B., Mystical Theology and Social Dissent.  East Brunswick, New Jersey:  Associated University Press, 1982, p. 57.

 

[151] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 225.

 

[152] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 249.

 

[153] Heschel, A.,  Man’s Quest For God. New Mexico: Aurora Press, 1954, p. 12. 

 

[154] Heschel, A.,  Man’s Quest For God. New Mexico: Aurora Press, 1954, p. 12.

 

[155] Sherwin, B., Mystical Theology and Social Dissent.  East Brunswick, New Jersey:  Associated University Press, 1982, p. 57.

 

[156] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 250.

 

[157] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 238.

 

[158] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 243.

 

[159] Sherwin, B., Mystical Theology and Social Dissent.  East Brunswick, New Jersey:  Associated University Press, 1982, p. 57.

 

[160] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 245.

 

[161] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 239.

 

[162] Maiminides, M., The Guide to the Perplexed.  Translated by Shlomo Pines.  Chicago:  University of Chicago Press, 1963, p. 115.

 

[163] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 250.

 

[164] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 250.

 

[165] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 246.

 

[166] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 239.

 

[167] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 245.

 

[168] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 239.

 

[169] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 241.

 

[170] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 241.

 

[171] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 248.

 

[172] Ibn Gabriol, S., “The Kingly Crown. [Keter Malhut—used in Sefardic Liturgy].”  Translated by Benard Lewis.  London:  Vallentine Mitchell, 1962, p. 29.

 

[173] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 243.

 

[174] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 247.

 

[175] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 226.

 

[176] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 227.

 

[177] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 226.

 

[178] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 228.

 

[179] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 228.

 

[180] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 238.

 

[181] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 244.

 

[182] Sherwin, B., Mystical Theology and Social Dissent.  East Brunswick, New Jersey:  Associated University Press, 1982, p. 58.

 

[183] Ibn Gabriol, S., “The Kingly Crown. [Keter Malhut—used in Sefardic Liturgy].”  Translated by Benard Lewis.  London:  Vallentine Mitchell, 1962, p. 28.

 

[184] Saadya Gaon, “Book of Doctrines and Beliefs.”  Edited and translated by Alexander Altmann, in Three Jewish Philosophers.  New York:  Atheneum, 1974, p. 37.

 

[185] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 227.

 

[186] Hatch, The Influence of Greek Ideas and Usages Upon the Christian Church (he Hibbert Lectures, 1888), p. 240, quoted in Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 225.

 

[187] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 228.

 

[188] Ibn Gabriol, S., “The Kingly Crown. [Keter Malhut—used in Sefardic Liturgy].”  Translated by Benard Lewis.  London:  Vallentine Mitchell, 1962, p. 29.

 

[189]Unesaneh Tokeph—High Holiday Liturgy,”  Davis, A. and Adler, H., editors and translators.  Synagogue Service for the New Year (Mahazor Le-Rosh ha-Shanah).  New York:  Hebrew Publishing Co., 1950, p. 146.

 

[190] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 235.

 

[191] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 241.

 

[192] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 248-9

 

[193] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 228.

 

[194] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 226.

 

[195] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 226.

 

[196] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 235.

 

[197] Eisen, R., Gersonides on Providence, Covenant, and the Chosen People.  Albany, New York:  State University of New Yorh, 1995, p. 14.

 

[198] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 228.

 

[199] “The Judeo-Islamic Age,” Halkin, A., in Leo D, Schwarz, ed., Great Ages and Ideas of the Jewish People.  New York:  Modern Library, 1956, p. 254.

 

[200] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 237.

 

[201] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 228.

 

[202] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 234.

 

[203] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 238.

 

[204] Cohen, S., Jewish Theology. Assen, The Netherlands:  Royal Vangorcum LTD., 1971, p. 228.

 

[205] Heschel, A., God In Search of Man, New York: The Noonday Press, 1955, p. 126.

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