It is well known that Max Scheler framed his ethics in opposition to Kant’s “formalistic” ethical framework. However, it is a lesser-known fact that Scheler offered a critique of the ancient Greek moral vision. Although this critique was less developed than the one of Kant, the critique of the ancients was no less significant. First explicated in 1912 in Ressentiment, its central theme is reprised in nearly all of Scheler’s main texts even up until his death. Scheler’s contention is with (...) what he calls the “love of goodness,” which he also happens to think Aristotle’s ethics represents. This paper will primarily examine the love of goodness, first, as one side of the “categorial form” of "Pharisaism"—that is, as it represents a “moral illusion”—then as the other side—namely, as it corresponds to “epistemological error." Finally, I consider the specific moral context in light of where it naturally leads Scheler: to the principle of solidarity. (shrink)

The evolution of the concepts of resurrection and immortality in Judaic-Christian thought are explored by Dr. Konvitz. There are hints in the Book of Daniel of these concepts, which begin to affect Pharisaical Jewish thinking and, later, are evinced in the New Testament—a likely consequence of the influence of Greek philosophy. The concept of resurrection is central to Christianity.

The Song of Songs was considered as Sacred Scripture before the Christian Era. The Pharisaic discussion in the 2nd century C.E. as to whether the Canticle defiles the hands refers neither to canonicity nor to inspiration; it expresses a doubt as to whether for any reason whatever in the text an exception could be applied to the Song with regard to the general rule that sacred books defile the hands. The copy of Esdras in the Temple was such an exception. (...) The reason for the presence of the Song of Songs in the Canon is not based on its author , nor on any allegorical explanation . The reason for canonicity can be seen in the sapiential character of the Song which shows itself in its literal sense that presents the natural love of a couple in all its amplitude and that by analogy can be referred also to the love of God. (shrink)

The concern to learn and profit from the past experience of exile and restoration and to implement the command “Be holy as I am holy” underlies both the dialogue of Job and later Pharisaic theology; to reflect on one is to clarify the other.

The underlying skepticism of ancient Greek culture made it unreceptive of philosophy. It was the Catholic Church that embraced philosophy. Still, Étienne Gilson reminds us in Reason and Revelation in the Middle Ages that some early Christians rejected philosophy. Their rejection was based on fideism: the view that faith alone provides knowledge. Philosophy is unnecessary and dangerous, fideists argue, because (1) anything known by reason can be better known by faith, and (2) reason, on account of the sin of pride, (...) seeks to replace faith. To support this twofold claim, fideists, like Tertullian and Tatian, quote St. Paul. However, a judicious interpretation of St. Paul’s remarks shows that he does not object to philosophy per se but to erroneous philosophy. This interpretation is reinforced by St. Paul’s own background in philosophy and by his willingness to engage intellectuals critical of Christianity in the public square. The challenge of fideism brings up the interesting question: what would Jesus himself say about the discipline of philosophy? Could it be that Jesus himself was a philosopher (as George Bush once declared)? As the fullness of wisdom and intelligence, Jesus certainly understood philosophy, although not in the conventional sense. But surely, interpreting his life through the lens of fideism is unconvincing. Instead, an appreciation of his innate philosophical skills serves better to understand important elements of his mission. His perfect grasp of how grace perfects nature includes a philosophy of the human person. This philosophy grounded in common-sense analysis of human experience enables Jesus to be a profound moral philosopher. Specifically, he is able to explain the principles of personal actualization. Relying on ordinary experience, where good philosophy must start, he narrates moral lessons—parables—that illumine difficulties regarding moral responsibility and virtue. These parables are accessible but profound, showing how moral understanding must transcend Pharisaical legalism. Additionally, Jesus’ native philosophical power shows in his ability to explain away doctrinal confusions and to expose sophistical traps set by his enemies. If fideism is unconvincing, and if the great examples of the Patristics, the Apostles, and Jesus himself show an affinity for philosophy, then it is necessary to conclude that Christianity is a rational religion. Accordingly, the history of Christian culture is arguably an adventure in faith and reason. Since God is truth and the author of all truths, there is nothing in reality that is incompatible with Christian teaching. As John Paul II explains effectively in the encyclical, Fides et Ratio, Christianity is a religion that is rational and can defend itself. This ability to marshal a defense makes Christianity a religion for all seasons. (shrink)

The underlying skepticism of ancient Greek culture made it unreceptive of philosophy. It was the Catholic Church that embraced philosophy. Still, Étienne Gilson reminds us in Reason and Revelation in the Middle Ages that some early Christians rejected philosophy. Their rejection was based on fideism: the view that faith alone provides knowledge. Philosophy is unnecessary and dangerous, fideists argue, because (1) anything known by reason can be better known by faith, and (2) reason, on account of the sin of pride, (...) seeks to replace faith. To support this twofold claim, fideists, like Tertullian and Tatian, quote St. Paul. However, a judicious interpretation of St. Paul’s remarks show that he does not object to philosophy per se but to erroneous philosophy. This interpretation is reinforced by St. Paul’s own background in philosophy and by his willingness to engage intellectuals critical of Christianity in the public square. The challenge of fideism brings up the interesting question: what would Jesus himself say about the discipline of philosophy? Could it be that Jesus himself was a philosopher (as George Bush once declared)? As the fullness of wisdom and intelligence, Jesus certainly understood philosophy, although not in the conventional sense. But surely, interpreting his life through the lens of fideism is unconvincing. Instead, an appreciation of his innate philosophical skills serves better to understand important elements of his mission. His perfect grasp of how grace perfects nature includes a philosophy of the human person. This philosophy grounded in common-sense analysis of human experience enables Jesus to be a profound moral philosopher. Specifically, he is able to explain the principles of personal actualization. Relying on ordinary experience, where good philosophy must start, he narrates moral lessons—parables—that illumine difficulties regarding moral responsibility and virtue. These parables are accessible but profound, showing how moral understanding must transcend Pharisaical legalism. Additionally, Jesus’ native philosophical power shows in his ability to explain away doctrinal confusions and to expose sophistical traps set by his enemies. If fideism is unconvincing, and if the great examples of the Patristics, the Apostles, and Jesus himself show an affinity for philosophy, then it is necessary to conclude that Christianity is a rational religion. Accordingly, the history of Christian culture is arguably an adventure in faith and reason. Since God is truth and the author of all truths, there is nothing in reality that is incompatible with Christian teaching. As John Paul II explains effectively in the encyclical, Fides et Ratio, Christianity is a religion that is rational and can defend itself. This ability to marshal a defense makes Christianity a religion for all seasons. (shrink)

The body of Rabbinic material that has been relied upon for the view that Pharisaism was legalistic points rather toward confidence in God's grace and toward obedience as one's appropriate response.

Resonances of Samuel David Luzzatto's characterization of Italian Jewry can be heard in the personal memoirs of Arnaldo Momigliano. Pagan, Jewish, and Christian -these were the three civilizations which dominated Momigliano's life work. Between 1930 and 1934 Momigliano wrote four major works on representative areas of the triple civilizations: one on the Maccabean tradition; two articles on Josephus' defense of Judaism, the Contra Apionem; a presentation of his conception of first century Pharisaic Judaism; and Alien Wisdom, in which he explored (...) the Hellenistic discovery of Jews, Celts, Romans, and Iranians, and Rome's meeting of these cultures. Momigliano's discussions of the ways that Judaism both absorbed GrecoRoman culture and reacted to it should be taken into account when examining the central texts of rabbinic literature, for the Rabbis themselves were conscious that they belonged to the triple civilizations. Through an analysis of the Midrash, it is shown that Momigliano helps us to appreciate some of the characteristics which emunah holds in common with pistis or fides. An example of the way Jews reacted to the imposition of Roman rule is given in their reaction to the imperial cult. (shrink)

Cet article propose la relecture d’une anecdote transmise à la fois par Flavius Josèphe et par le Talmud : l’affrontement entre les dirigeants pharisiens et la dynastie hasmonéenne conduit à une création juridique dans le domaine de la « loi orale » (halakha ancienne). Cette innovation concerne la filiation des prêtres et la situation de leur mère au regard des lois de pureté. L’auteur s’est donc efforcé de replacer cet événement dans le contexte historique des lois et des usages concernant (...) la sexualité et les rapports entre hommes et femmes en Judée à la fin de l’époque du deuxième temple (iiie s. av. – ier s. ap.). (shrink)

Faruqi's book is more about Christian dogmatics than about ethics. Its interest stems from the fact that the author is a Muslim who knows recent Protestant thought well and is not afraid to call Karl Barth a bigot. After an interesting but unrelated introduction on methodology in the history of religions, the author settles down to some pet Muslim peeves concerning the doctrines of original sin and the divinity of Christ. Instead of the Jesus of history he presents us with (...) the Koranic Jesus, the universalizing reformer whose mission was to undo Jewish, racialist separatism. Faruqi's Sufi sympathies blind him to the real problems of historical, biblical criticism and his moralistic rationalism allows no place for significant differences amongst men in the coming great brotherhood. For him, Jesus' achievement was to develop an ethic of intent against pharisaic legalism. But this ethic needs to be supplemented by the Muslim emphasis on performance if it is to be transposed from the realm of ideals to the realities of contemporary political life. Considering the history of Christian interpretations of Islam, Faruqi is entitled to retaliate--and so he does, in an overburdened series of footnotes. He is much more tolerant of Arab expansionism than of Western imperialism, and completely insensitive to the psychological power of Judaism. Too often he substitutes derogatory labeling for constructive criticism and so fails to illumine the concepts of love, power, and justice on which any religious ethic must depend. Even so, his scholarly achievement is remarkable, and one learns more from his misunderstanding than from most of the religious apologetics being published today.--C. P. S. (shrink)

In the dispute as to whether the ultimate foundation of the ethical is principles or persons, this study vigorously advances the latter position. The author develops the thesis that morality is fundamentally a matter of caring about others. He derives this claim from the premise that engaging in the proscription of certain harmful acts "will depend ultimately upon your relation to the person against whom these acts are directed". The author contends that if one were utterly indifferent to the well-being (...) of the person affected by the acts in question, one would not condemn them morally. He goes on to claim that this caring qualifies as moral only if it is an unselfish concern for what happens to the person in question. He does not so much argue as illustrate this view by adducing from literature examples of human desperation and suffering to which compassion is the only natural response. Our condemnation of, e.g., a brutal assault shows, he says, that we care disinterestedly about the well-being of others. This immediate concern for the other is contrasted with attention to the inherent rightness or wrongness of actions--something the author characterizes as pharisaical. He attacks not only any theory which would reduce morality to a refinement of self-interest but likewise any which would preposit to this personal concern any alternative frame of reference--the rules of moral language, norms backed by social pressure, or the objectives of social harmony. Morality, he argues, is not a system of social control --it is not properly controlling nor systematic. (shrink)

***Angaben zur beteiligten Person Grünebaum: Elias Grünebaum (geb. 1807 in Reipoltskirchen [Rheinland-Pfalz].