We live in an age beset by religiously inspired violence. Terms such as "holy war" are the stock-in-trade of the evening news. But what is the relationship between holiness and violence? Can acts such as murder ever truly be described as holy? In Does Judaism Condone Violence?, Alan Mittleman offers a searching philosophical investigation of such questions in the Jewish tradition. Jewish texts feature episodes of divinely inspired violence, and the position of the Jews as God's chosen people has (...) been invoked to justify violent acts today. Are these justifications valid? Or does our understanding of the holy entail an ethic that argues against violence?Reconstructing the concept of the holy through a philosophical examination of biblical texts, Mittleman finds that the holy and the good are inextricably linked, and that our experience of holiness is authenticated through its moral consequences. Our understanding of the holy develops through reflection on God's creation of the natural world, and our values emerge through our relations with that world. Ultimately, Mittleman concludes, religious justifications for violence cannot be sustained. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Does Judaism Condone Violence? Holiness and Ethics in the Jewish Tradition by Alan L. MittlemanMatthew LeveringDoes Judaism Condone Violence? Holiness and Ethics in the Jewish Tradition by Alan L. Mittleman (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2018), v + 227 pp.Alan Mittleman has written a profoundly thought-provoking book. A main question of the book is whether a higher (revealed) law may in some cases require harm to (...) be done to the neighbor—harm that otherwise would be unjust. Mittleman offers some fascinating examples of cases in which Jews have appealed to God's Law in order to justify oppression of Gentiles. He cites a contemporary halakhic text, Torat ha-Melekh (The King's Torah), as particularly egregious. While Torat ha-Melekh was widely condemned by rabbis and the general public in Israel, it had an audience among the ultra-Orthodox. According to the Torat ha-Melekh, Gentiles' souls are not intrinsically holy in the way that Jews' souls are. This means that killing Gentile children in wartime may be acceptable due to the threat that otherwise these children may grow up to kill Jews. The Torat ha-Melekh observes that many Gentiles do not practice and obey the seven Noachide commandments. Since this is so, the Gentiles who do not obey the Noachide commandments live "in an inhuman state, where the brutish nature of their souls has free rein and their lives have lost value" (186).Another example given by Mittleman is the status of the Holy Land and the Holy People. Insofar as the holiness of the land and people is thought to be intrinsic—an inseparable property—problems can arise. According to a midrash in Bereshit Rabbah, the land is so intrinsically holy that only the dead who are buried in the land—or whose dead bodies somehow travel to the land—will rise from the dead and enjoy everlasting resurrected life. Likewise, the land's air is presented as uniquely making its inhabitants wise, and the divine presence or shekinah comes only in the land. For the medieval Jewish philosopher Yehuda Halevi, in his Kuzari: The Book of Refutation and Proof on Behalf of the Most Despised Religion (ca. 1140), the land of Israel is the most temperate climate and the most conducive to producing the ideal human beings. In addition, Halevi thinks that only certain descendants of Adam are "true Adamites" (66). A true Adamite is a son of God, just as Adam was. Specifically, only Seth and some of his descendants are fully human in accord with the Adamic model. It is only in the family of Jacob that "God's influence [finally] becomes the property of an entire people" (67). The true Adamites are Adam's (and Jacob's) seed; other humans are comparatively speaking mere husks. Although people can convert to Judaism, therefore, converts cannot be equal to those born of the Jewish nation. This does not mean that all who descend from Jacob are holy, since [End Page 745] it is possible for a Jew to distort his or her purity of soul. Nevertheless, for Halevi the Jewish people are a holy seed that is intrinsically superior to all other humans, so that it is possible to say that "Israel is an angelomorphic, even theomorphic race" (69).Moses Maimonides responded to Halevi, rejecting his viewpoint completely—on the grounds that holiness is not an intrinsic or biological (let alone racial) property. Yet, Halevi's viewpoint influenced Jewish Kabbalah in a major way. For the Kabbalist text the Zohar, the people of Israel derive from the emanations of the divine, whereas all other nations derive from the impure powers. The Zohar holds, "The other nations count for nothing in God's sight. They are the products of Eve's illicit union with the serpent," rather than coming forth from the theomorphic being who was Adam (70). Similarly, Moses de Leon—thought to be an author of the Zohar—argues that Gentiles ontologically possess impure souls that will carry them to spiritual damnation and will ensure that they have no participation in the resurrection of the dead. Another Kabbalist, Joseph of Hamadan, makes the same point that Gentiles... (shrink)

The idea of 'holiness' is central to religion, but it is also one of the hardest concepts to define. Is 'holiness' a synonym for Godliness, one of God's attributes, or does it have independent existence? What does it mean to say that both God and man are holy? What is the proper understanding of 'Be holy, because I the Lord your God am holy'? A Theology of Holiness analyzes the meaning of the Hebrew root k-d-sh from ancient (...) sources, throughout Tanakh, the Talmud, Rashi, Maimonides, Nachmanides, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, and Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik. Ultimately, it is a work of theology, and helps the reader achieve a deeper understanding of holiness"--Page 4 of cover. (shrink)

Moses Hess is a major figure in the development of both early communist and Zionist thought. The Holy History of Mankind appeared in 1837, and was the first book-length socialist tract to appear in Germany, representing an unusual synthesis of Judaism and Christianity that showed the considerable influence upon Hess of Spinoza, Herder and Hegel. In due course many of Hess's ideas would find their way into the work of Karl Marx, and into subsequent socialist thought. The distinguished political scientist (...) Shlomo Avineri provides the first full English translation of this text, along with new renditions of Socialism and Communism, A Communist Credo; and The Consequences of a Future Revolution of the Proletariat. All of the usual reader-friendly series features are provided, including a chronology, concise introduction and notes for further reading, in a work of special relevance to students of politics, modern European history, and the history of Zionism. (shrink)

Distinguished historian of Judaism Jacob Neusner here ventures for the first time into constructive theology. Taking the everyday life of contemporary Judaism as his beginning, Neusner asks when in the life of the living faith of the Torah does Israel, the holy community, meet God? Where does the meeting take place? What is the medium of the encounter? In his attempt to answer these questions, Neusner sets forth the character and the form of the Torah as sung theology. Israel, the (...) holy community, meets God in the synagogue, while at prayer, and in the yeshiva, when studying the Torah—at the moment in each setting when the Torah is received. In both circumstances people do not read but sing out its words. With the written part of the Torah sung in the synagogue, and the oral part declaimed in centers of sacred learning, music provides the medium for Judaism's theological voice. Neusner identifies a reciprocal exchange between the holy community Israel and God: Israel sings to God when the Torah is studied, and God sings to Israel when the Torah is declaimed. Through the metaphor of music, Neusner offers an account of how he believes those faithful to the Torah meet God in the Torah, and how they should listen to the melody of God's self-revelation. The result is an original theological reflection that will interest all students of Judaism. (shrink)

SummaryJerusalem is the holy city for Leo Strauss. It is the symbol of Judaism; moreover it is a root of Western culture together with Athens. But it would be wrong to label Strauss' philosophical thought with such definitions as ‘Jewish philosophy’. Therefore it is surprising that many contemporary interpreters strive to find a confessional or religious foundation in Strauss' thought. On the contrary, many of Strauss's texts testify his choice in favour of Athens, i.e., of philosophy. Yet the choice of (...) Athens does not imply a rejection of Jerusalem. Strauss is convinced that Jerusalem plays a central role in Western civilisation and considers the indifference to religion and the ideologisation of philosophy completed in the modern age as causes of Western crisis, i.e., of contemporary nihilism. Philosophy and religion are forced to live side by side (like philosophy and politics) because neither reason nor revelation can express the ultimate word on the good and the just, i.e., on truth. (shrink)

With a history of 2000 years, the dialogue between Orthodoxy and Judaism experienced difficult times that have left deep scars in the hearts of the followers of the two religions. In the modern and contemporary period, without forgetting the past, it is trying to find bridges between the two religions with the purpose to help the faithful to respond responsibly to the challenges of the present and future. The themes that have been analyzed in the past are of a great (...) interest to our times: the relationship between the Old and New Testaments, the place and the role of the Bible in the two monotheistic traditions, Jerusalem as a Holy City, the religious freedom, the quality and the responsibility of elected people, the problem of religious freedom. Finally, only through sincere cooperation one can find relevant answers to the faithful of the both religions. (shrink)

Gratitude -- Enthusiasm -- Joy -- Strength -- Loving-kindness -- Order -- Equanimity -- Honor -- Humility -- Generosity -- Watchfulness -- Judging others favorably -- Calmness -- Patience -- Love -- Abstinence -- Compassion -- Modesty -- Willingness -- Simplicity -- Courage -- Trust -- Faith -- Truth -- Silence -- Awe.

This article acknowledges the fact that historically there are two phases in the emergence of the Septuagint – a Jewish phase and a Christian one. The article deals first with methodological issues. It then offers a historical orientation. In the past some scholars have failed to distinguish between key historical phases: the pre-exilic/exilic (Israelite – 10 tribes), the exilic (the Babylonian exile ‒ 2 tribes) and the post-exilic (Judaean/Jewish). Many scholars are unaware of the full significance of the Hellenistic era, (...) including the Seleucid and Ptolemaic eras and their impact on ‘biblical’ textual material. Others again overestimate the significance of this era; the Greek scholar Evangelia Dafni is an example. Many are uninformed about the Persian era, which includes the Achaemenid, Parthian and Sassanian eras, each one of which had an impact on Judaism. An example is the impact of Persian dualism. Another problem is the application of the concept of ‘the Bible ’. The notion of ‘Bible’ applies only after the 16th century Common Era, specifically after the advent of the printing press. Earlier, depending on the context, we had clay tablets (Mesopotamia), vella (Levant-Judah) and papyri (Egypt) to write on. This is followed by a discussion of the Masoretic text and the LXX, including the reasons for the rejection of the LXX by the Jews. This is significant because the LXX was originally a Jewish document. Attempts to re-evaluate the concept of the Bible are discussed. The Septuagint subsequently followed, which leads to the conclusion that the LXX became the first Bible of the Christian church. Contribution: This article fits into the focus of HTS because it argues that the Septuagint is the first Bible of the early church. It also underscores the scope of this Theological periodical, for the Greek Bible is part of its subject matter that is researched. (shrink)

In almost all of the teaching of religion it is possible to find the message of peace and violence. Islam, as a word means peace, well-being, tranquility and surrender. The claim that Islam is a religion of peace, stems from its lexical meaning. The Torah aims to protect the peace of individuals and communities that have a different faith and relationship based on justice and empathy. The Ten Commandments is recognized as a basic summary of the belief system of Jews. (...) Christianity defined itself as a religion based on love. Christians claim that God himself is love, Jesus, apostles, the church fathers ultimately all Christians are messengers of love and the people are builders of peace. The perspective on sacred texts can affect the message that you try to deduce, with this assumption, the opposing ideas of people which are derived from Holy Scriptures can be based on their personality, family and social experience. In this study, the sacred texts of Judaism, Christianity and Islam will be taken into account and by using a holistic approach, it will try to put forward a message that constitute to the theological basis that members of the same faith or different religions that can live in peace. In the introduction, a brief summary of their contribution to world peace is given. The main body of the article is organized in comparative study under three parts: religions contribution to peace in individual, family and societal life. In this scope, a measure of understanding among, first Orthodox and other Judaism branches, has been identified on message of of peace, then the same process is repeated for Catholic, Protestant and Orthodox Christianity. In Islam, the message of peace has been identified by individual verses as well as their application through its Prophet. (shrink)

This volume deals with the way in which the Jewish religion and its holy scriptures were viewed by nine medieval Muslim authors, representing different genres of Arabic literature: historical and chronological writing, polemical and apologetical literature, theology, and Koranic commentary.

This chapter explores how Friedrich Nietzsche’s work The Anti-Christ inspired not only an unexpected charitable reading of Jesus’s life and thought in the New Testament, but also an unlikely sense of “holy envy.” The topic of Jesus is very tricky for Jews. The legacy of Christian anti-Judaism provides the hermeneutical lens for how Jews may interpret the life and teachings of Jesus in the New Testament. Incorporating aspects of Jesus’s life and teachings into a Jewish religious way of engaging the (...) world, or even just appreciating them, can be an anathema to classical and many forms of modern Jewish thought. Sax explores the irony and power of how Nietzsche’s Jesus could inspire a contemporary Jewish thinker to admire and connect to the Jesus of the New Testament. (shrink)

This book brings together academic scholars from across various religious traditions to reflect on the beauty they find in traditions other than their own. They examine these aspects and reflect on how they inform and constructively assist with rethinking their own religious worldviews and practices. Each scholar investigates the various implications, questions, insights, and challenges that are generated in the process of doing so. Traditions discussed include Ásatrú Heathenism, Buddhism, Catholicism, Evangelical Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, LDS Mormon Christianity, Lutheranism, Presbyterianism, (...) Sikhism, Sufism, Western Buddhism, and Zen Mahāyāna Buddhism. Instead of focusing only or primarily on the theory and practice of interreligious dialogue, this book presents living examples of learning from other religious traditions, identities, and persons. (shrink)

The emergence and persistence of the jews other.

Judaism and Christianity are religions whose theological epistemology is based on revelation. The primary source of revelation is Holy Scripture. However, history has also been recognised as a source of revelation, particularly the history of Israel and the Jewish people. Because they understood history as a source of revelation, many religious Jews altered their understanding of Jewish statehood in Eretz Israel during the twentieth century, from distinctly averse to increasingly supportive. On the same principles, the Catholic Church made arguably the (...) most profound change in its theology in the twentieth century, concerning its understanding of Jews and Judaism. This was prompted by an­­other major historical event, the Shoah. While in Judaism the historical phenom­enon of the State of Israel profoundly influenced theology, another historical phenomenon, the Shoah, was theologically approached with far more unease and ambiguity. In the Catholic Church, in contrast, the historical phenomenon of the Shoah prompted a serious reconsideration of certain tenets of theology, includ­ing soteriology, while the historical phenomenon of the State of Israel did not. This article addresses this apparent contradiction comparatively. (shrink)

Vol. 1, pt. 1: Ḥokhmat ha-ḳodesh, sedarim 1-4 -- Vol. 1, pt. 2: Ḥokhmat ha-ḳodesh, sedarim 5-7 -- Vol. 2, pt. 1: Higayon ha-ḳodesh, sedarim 1-5 -- Vol. 2, pt. 2: ha-Maʼamar ha-rishon ṿeha-maʼamar ha-sheni ʻim sikum u-ferush Dibur u-maḥshavah -- Vol. 2, pt. [2b]: ha-Maʼamar ha-shelishi ṿeha-maʼamar ha-reviʻi ʻim sikum u-ferush Dibur u-maḥshavah -- Vol. 2, pt. 3: ha-Maʼamar ha-ḥamishi ʻim sikum u-ferush Dibur u-maḥshavah --.

Toba Spitzer's God Is Here is a transformative exploration of the idea of God, offering new paths to experiencing the realm of the sacred. Most of us are hungry for a system of meaning to make sense of our lives, yet traditional religion too often leaves those seeking spiritual sustenance unsatisfied. Rabbi Toba Spitzer understands this problem firsthand, and knows that too often it is traditional ideas of the deity-he's too big, too impersonal, and too unbelievable-that get in the way. (...) In God Is Here, Spitzer argues that whether we believe in God or fervently disbelieve, what we are actually disagreeing about is not God at all, but a metaphor of a Big Powerful Person that limits our understanding and our spiritual lives. Going back to the earliest sources for Judaism as well as Christianity, Spitzer discovers in the Hebrew Bible a rich and varied palette of metaphors for the divine-including Water, Voice, Fire, Rock, Cloud, and even the process of Becoming. She addresses how we can access these ancient metaphors, as well as those drawn from rabbinic tradition and modern science, to experience holiness in our daily lives and to guide us in challenging times. In the section on water, for instance, she looks at the myriad ways water flows through the Biblical stories of the Israelites and emerges as a powerful metaphor for the divine in the Prophets and Psalms. She invites us to explore what it might mean to "drink from God," or to experience godly justice as something that "rains down" and "flows like a river." Each chapter contains insights from the Bible and teachings from Judaism and other spiritual traditions, accompanied by suggestions for practice to bring alive each of the God metaphors. Rabbi Toba Spitzer has helped many people satisfy their spiritual hunger. With God Is Here she will inspire you to find new and perhaps surprising ways of encountering the divine, right where you are. (shrink)

From a social science perspective, a major purpose of religion is to organize the behavior of the community of believers in order to maximize its success as a collective. The underlying premise of this lecture is that religious authority will sanction violence and aggression when they are assessed to be an effective means of realizing the goals of the collective. Conversely, when violence and aggression become unhelpful or counter- productive for realizing community goals they are forbidden. This phenomenology of religion (...) and violence is applied to the history of Judaism, Christianity and Islam to demonstrate that none of these religions is inherently more or less apt to engage in violence. Their use of belligerent and irenic behaviors are more profoundly influenced by historical context and social needs than by theology. (shrink)

Neusner proves that the law of normative Judaism, the Halakhah, viewed whole, with its category-formations read in logical sequence, tells a coherent story. He demonstrates that details of the law contribute to making a single statement, one that, moreover, complements and corresponds with that of the Aggadah, the lore and scriptural exegesis of Judaism. He has now portrayed for the first time the way in which Aggadah and Halakhah, attitude and action, belief and behavior, join together to set forth normative (...) Judaism, the vast system for holy Israel's social order of the Mishnah, Talmud, and Midrash of late antiquity. (shrink)

By studying the new perspectives offered on Paul, this article proposes to revise some of them emphasizing Jewish information on the Torah, rescuing to the great Greek-Roman theologian native of Tarsus, how much there is of Judaism on Paul, overcoming a forensic unilateral view to understand his thoughts about the Torah. The Torah is good, holy and leads to the Christ!

On the path of the continued application of the Second Vatican Council’s Document Nostra Aetate, which turns 50, presenting a deepening biblical material based on written and oral tradition of the Jews and the Church's teaching from the same Vatican II up to the present days, by confirming the teaching of the last Popes, narrowing the route of mutual regard and friendship in dialogue with Judaism and the common heritage present in the Pentateuch and in all the Holy Scriptures.

What should philosophical theology look like after the critique of Onto-theology, after Phenomenology, and in the age of Speculative Realism? What does Kabbalah have to say to Philosophy? Since Kant and especially since Husserl, philosophy has only permitted itself to speak about how one relates to God in terms of the intentionality of consciousness and not of how God is in himself. This meant that one could only ever speak to God as an addressed and yearned-for holy Thou, but not (...) to God as infinite creator of all. In this book-length essay, the author argues that reality itself is made up of the Holy Name of God. Drawing upon the set-theoretical ontology of Alain Badiou, the computational theory of Stephen Wolfram, the physics of Frank Tipler, the psychoanalytical theory of Jacques Lacan, and the genius of Georg Cantor, the author works to demonstrate that the universe is a computer processing the divine Name and that all existence is made of information (the bit). As a result of this ontic pan-computationalism, it is shown that the future resurrection of the dead can take place and how it may in fact occur. Along the way, the book also offers compelling critiques of several significant theories of reality, including the phenomenological theologies of Emmanuel Levinas and Jean-Luc Marion, Process Theology, and Object-Oriented Ontology. Reality in the Name of God explores how the concepts of Jewish mysticism can be articulated and deployed as philosophical theses within current metaphysical debates. It provides a new and dynamic Structural Realist ontology of information. Ultimately, the book aims to deal a death blow to the restriction of philosophy and theology in relation to elaborations of a how a believer relates to a God outside the mind and to return thought to a direct encounter with the divine nature of reality itself and its creator"--Website of the publisher, October 19, 2020. (shrink)

Redemption in Judaism is typically thought of as an historical and eschatological category: God has redeemed Israel in the past and will do so again in the future. Although this dipolar understanding of redemption has been dominant in Judaism, forms of actualized redemption have also found expression in which Jews, either individually or communally, secure a positive redemptive status in the present. This article focuses on the peculiar fact that Franz Rosenzweig and Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik both include an actualized component (...) within their theories of redemption. After brief consideration of Kierkegaard as a potential source for their accounts of actualized redemption, I explore how actualized redemption fits into Rosenzweig’s and Soloveitchik’s larger thought and consider their philosophical and theological motivations for conceiving of redemption as achievable. In the concluding section of the paper, I critique Rosenzweig’s and Solovetchik’s accounts of actualized redemption and suggest that Abraham Joshua Heschel’s and Eliezer Berkovits’ alternative theological anthropologies that emphasize the cultivation of holiness circumvent some of the problems I associate with actualized redemption. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:READING HALACHICALLY AND AGGADICALLY: A RESPONSE TO REUVEN KIMELMAN Sandor Goodhart Purdue University Professor Kimelman's talk is a hard act to follow. I also find myself in a difficult situation because this is the first moment in our gathering in which someone who is genuinely from outside the COV&R group has come in to speak to us. So there is always the potential for the activation ofthe processes ofthe (...) sacred that we know all too well. We'll try to resist that activation, however, and I will attempt to offer my response to Professor Kimelman's paper with humor, although I may not always be entirely successful in my efforts. Part I. Mandatory, discretionary, and holy warfare Professor Reuven Kimelman's paper, "Warfare and its Restrictions in the Jewish Tradition," is a testament to the author's erudition and deep knowledge ofthe Jewish tradition and in particular the Talmudic tradition on the matter of mandatory and discretionary warfare and its relation to ethical conduct. No one who reads Professor Kimelman or who hears him speak can come away without having learned something new, something that will in turn confer new knowledge in other areas and thus contribute to the overall understanding ofTorah and thereby to the goal ofthe ancient Rabbis who compiled these halachic and aggadic materials which is to see Torah as a blueprint of the world. The paper is brimming with the understanding and references appropriate to the subject matter he has chosen to examine, and from the perspective from which he has chosen to read that subject matter. But therein also lies its difficulty. The problem from my point of view is that it is difficult to see how, in the form in which I read his text two weeks ago, it has anything to say to Girardian theory, either in general, or Sandor Goodhart65 with specific relevance to this conference. Moreover, and this is perhaps more troublesome to me, steeped as his paper is within one major tradition of reading within Jewish history, namely, the legalistic tradition of Talmudic reading, it is difficult to see how his paper has anything to say to the other major tradition ofreading within the history ofJudaism, namely, the prophetic tradition. Let me elaborate. It is difficult to see how Professor Kimelman's paper has anything to say to Girardian theory in at least three different ways. (1 ) The paper seems to be largely unaware of Girardian theory and one wonders why this paper is being read here. (2) The paper seems to be largely unaware of the purpose of this particular conference, which is to think about and discuss the institution of violence read from a Girardian perspective. (3) The paper seems to be largely unaware ofthe dynamics of mimetic phenomena whether from a Girardian perspective or from any other. Rather the paper seems to be largely focused on a realpolitik of ethical life in context of mandatory and discretionary warfare as discussed in the Talmud to the virtual exclusion of the mimetic aspect of things, the political to the exclusion ofthe ethical (at least in the sense that I am going to speak about it), the public conception of the ethical to the exclusion of the personal conception of the ethical. Perhaps more troubling, however, is that the paper seems to be largely without commentary upon an alternative understanding of scriptural phenomena, which is, namely, that they are scriptural phenomena, textual phenomena, and not matters of historical reality, of what really happened, or even matters of moral reality, except as that reality passes through Scripture. As an exclusion of this scriptural dimension, and an abstraction of the issues of mandatory and discretionary warfare from their scriptural context, the paper appears to be the product of what I would call a literalist imagination and therefore potentially of theodicy. Why, then, is Reuven Kimelman here? Presumably Bob Daly has told him what this conference is to be about, that it is focused upon Girardian theory, either in general or in specific guise ofthe topic: namely, violence and institution in Judaism. Presumably, Reuven Kimelman also knows about the other tradition of Judaism beside the legalistic tradition from which he reads since he... (shrink)

The act of thought-thought as an act-would precede the thought thinking or becoming conscious of an act. The notion of act involves a violence essentially: the violence of transitivity, lacking in the transcendence of thought... Totality and Infinity The work of Emmanuel Levinas revolves around two preoccupations. First, his philosophical project can be described as the construction of a formal ethics, grounded upon the transcendence of the other human being and a subject's spontaneous responsibility toward that other. Second, Levinas has (...) written extensively on, and as a member of, the cultural and textual life of Judaism. These two concerns are intertwined. Their relation, however, is one of considerable complexity. Levinas' philosophical project stems directly from his situation as a Jewish thinker in the twentieth century and takes its particular form from his study of the Torah and the Talmud. It is, indeed, a hermeneutics of biblical experience. If inspired by Judaism, Levinas' ethics are not eo ipso confessional. What his ethics takes from Judaism, rather, is a particular way of conceiving transcendence and the other human being. It owes to the philosophy of Franz Rosenzweig and Martin Buber a logos of the world and of the holy, which acknowledges their incom mensurability without positing one as fallen and the other as supernal. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Levinas—Between Philosophy and Rhetoric:The “Teaching” of Levinas’s Scriptural ReferencesClaire Elise KatzIn an interview titled "On Jewish Philosophy," Emmanuel Levinas illuminates the connection that he sees between philosophical discourse and the role of midrash in interpreting the Hebrew scriptures. His interviewer immediately expresses surprise at Levinas's comments that suggested he saw the traditions of philosophy and biblical theology as in some sense harmonious (quoted in Robbins 2001, 239). Levinas responds (...) by elaborating on this connection he sees. For him, the lived experience of Judaism is above all a sense of belonging to humanity and, in turn, to a supreme order of responsibility (240). Although his intellectual life focused on the sacred texts of Judaism, this life included non-Jewish books, which he believed expressed a similar concern or a similar responsibility—a concern for the meaning of life. This list of such books includes Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear, The Miser, and The Misanthrope, in addition to the novels of Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky.In Levinas's view, these novels are not exercises of philosophyper se; as mentioned above, they express the same concerns that occupy philosophy, but they express these concerns in a different idiom. They do not offer a philosophical argument; instead, they use figurative language and literary narrative to convey their messages. By drawing this distinction between philosophy and literature, Levinas appears to have divided the written word into two categories: philosophy, on the one hand, and literary texts, on the other. Yet readers of his philosophical work cannot help but notice his frequent references to literary sources, including the numerous citations taken from the Jewish holy texts. His use of these citations encourages us to ask how we are to classify these books in general and how to classify, in particular, the Scriptures and the holy texts in Judaism. With regard to the holy texts in Judaism, should we classify them as simply a [End Page 159] literary device? Or, do they constitute a third category that falls somewhere in between philosophy and rhetoric? If the latter, then what is their status relative to these larger categories?Although Levinas insists on separating his two bodies of work—his philosophical writings and his Jewish writings—the distinction between them becomes increasingly blurred with his frequent introduction of citations from the Hebrew texts into his philosophy and by inflecting his Jewish writings with philosophical interpretations.1 In what follows, I examine the unique and significant role of Scriptural references within Levinas's philosophical work. My claim is that the Scriptural references are in fact rhetorical, but not "simply" rhetorical; they do pedagogical work for Levinas that other literary devices cannot accomplish. They engage his readers such that they are invited to grapple with the Scriptures in a manner potentially unfamiliar to them, and this invitation, in turn, has the pedagogical effect of attuning his readers to his texts and to his ethical project—even, one might say, to the other—and inviting them into an experience of transcendence.In the interview mentioned above, Levinas tells his interlocutor that for the Jews the Scriptures do not exist apart from the interpretations that accompany them. These interpretations are found in the collections of midrashim and the Talmud. One need know only a little bit about Hebrew and the construction of the Hebrew texts in order to see why these interpretations are significant. There are three grammatical concerns with the Hebrew language: first, biblical Hebrew does not contain vowels, though it does employ vowel aspirations; second, it is a language based on root letter combinations, and the meaning of these combinations alters, depending on the vowel aspirations that are inserted. For example, "Kiddish," the Hebrew blessing over wine, is based on a combination of Hebrew letters that are transliterated into English as KDSH. The blessing changes if we insert different vowel aspirations: "Kaddish" is the blessing said for those who have died. Third, biblical Hebrew lacks punctuation. Owing to the absence of vowels and punctuation, interpretation difficulties immediately emerge. The rabbinic model of midrash addresses these problems by offering multiple explanations and interpretations.Levinas, however, is not concerned with this aspect of the written language. Rather, he emphasizes... (shrink)

While it is uncontroversial that the slave revolt in morality consists in a denial of the nobles as objects of value, Nietzsche’s account in the Genealogy’s first essay invites ambiguities concerning its origin, ressentiment’s relationship to value creation, and its meaning. In this paper, I address these ambiguities by analyzing the morality of good and evil as an historical artifact of Judeo-Christian tradition, and I argue for a two-stage, non-strategic interpretation of the slave revolt, according to which Judaism and Christianity (...) each made essential and different contributions. The inversion of values began with the Jewish prophets, who claimed the poor were holy and ‘good’ and the rich ‘evil’, and it was sustained throughout the Second Temple period by the Jewish priests in relation to a ‘priestly-noble’ conception of the virtuous person as holy and pure. Christ, through his espousal of egalitarianism, negated the pathos of distance essential to noble values, thus beginning the second phase of the slave revolt where goodness became associated with a distinctly slavish conception of virtue. (shrink)

Just as speech can be acquired, so can it be lost. Speakers can forget words, phrases, even entire languages they once knew; over the course of time peoples, too, let go of the tongues that were once theirs, as languages disappear and give way to the others that follow them. In Echolalias, Daniel Heller-Roazen reflects on the many forms of linguistic forgetfulness, offering a far-reaching philosophical investigation into the persistence and disappearance of speech. In twenty-one brief chapters, he moves among (...) classical, medieval, and modern culture, exploring the interrelations of speech, writing, memory, and oblivion.Drawing his examples from literature, philosophy, linguistics, theology, and psychoanalysis, Heller-Roazen examines the points at which the transience of speech has become a question in the arts, disciplines, and sciences in which language plays a prominent role. Whether the subject is Ovid, Dante, or modern fiction, classical Arabic literature or the birth of the French language, structuralist linguistics or Freud's writings on aphasia, Heller-Roazen considers with clarity, precision, and insight the forms, the effects, and the ultimate consequences of the forgetting of language. In speech, he argues, destruction and construction often prove inseparable. Among peoples, the disappearance of one language can mark the emergence of another; among individuals, the experience of the passing of speech can lie at the origin of literary, philosophical, and artistic creation.From the infant's prattle to the legacy of Babel, from the holy tongues of Judaism and Islam to the concept of the dead language and the political significance of exiled and endangered languages today, Echolalias traces an elegant, erudite, and original philosophical itinerary, inviting us to reflect in a new way on the nature of the speaking animal who forgets. (shrink)

Use of divine names is strictly regulated in the three Abrahamic faiths: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Unlike most ordinary names, “God,” “Jesus,” and “Allah,” have a particular moral significance for the faithful. Misuse of the names constitutes a form of blasphemy—a sin. Tomes have been written about the origin of holy names in these traditions and the role that they play in devotional practices. I have no such grand theological ambitions here. Instead, in this short essay I will raise a (...) few more narrow questions about the sin of blasphemy from the standpoint of contemporary philosophy of language. Until we have good reason to think otherwise, we should assume that the best semantic theory for ordinary proper names like “Obama” and “Aristotle” extends to names for God. In particular, I think we have reason to assume some causal theory of reference is true of divine names, since some version of it seems true of most every other name. From this assumption I will argue (i) that there are some puzzles for the sin of blasphemy as it is traditionally conceived, and (ii) that we can make progress toward answering the puzzles by acknowledging that divine names are vulnerable to a special kind of reference drift. (shrink)

There are two contrasting cultures in every religious tradition, the holy war and peaceable garden cultures. Examples are given for Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. Conflict is basic to human existence, stemming from the uniqueness of human individuals and their groups. Churches, instead of helping their societies develop the middle‐ground skills of negotiation and mediation, have insisted on a choice between two extreme behaviors: unitive love or destruction of the enemy. In international affairs this has led to the identification of the (...) church with the state in wartime and kept it from claiming the important middle ground of peacemaking. Institutionalized religion can pick up its missed opportunities. (shrink)

Wisdom and wickedness as a 'Woman' have always attracted much discussion, especially in the ways images of the female are employed in wisdom literature. This article focuses on two Qumran texts that fall into the category of wisdom literature, namely 4Q184 and 4Q185, and the metaphorical appropriation of the woman as a figure of wisdom or a figure of wickedness. By combining a number of traditions in certain forms, sages tried to establish an education for their learners on how to (...) obtain wisdom with the ultimate purpose of creating harmony. The ultimate purpose of the wisdom teachings of the sages was to confirm the harmony in the universe, and these teachings were also conveyed to their learners. In their instructions, they often employed binary opposites such as 'wise' and 'fool' according to which someone was characterised, or rather stereotyped. The result of such binary stereotyping was that the 'whore' and the 'holy one' represented opposite poles, and became fixed images in Judaism. According to feminist exegetes, these images typify the concept of cultural stereotyping. This article aims to illustrate that two Qumran texts, 4Q184 and 4Q185, regarded as wisdom texts, employ the female stereotypes that were known in the wisdom literature of Judaism. (shrink)

The Qurʾān states that it is the last link in the chain of divine books, such as the Torah, Psalms, and the Gospel, and that it is also the approval and regulator of these books. As a result, there are some mutual narratives with other holy books, as well as some issues that differ from them and bring different explanations from them. These issues have been the subject of polemics, especially with Judaism and Christianity throughout the history. The crucifixion of (...) Jesus Christ formed the foundation of Christianity theology. However, the subject of ‘the cross’ has also been one of the most important issues by which Christian communities have made different explanations and interpretations since the 1st century, and have diverged accordingly. Although the docetists, who are our subject, are divided into many groups with different views, they generally accept that Jesus Christ was of a different nature from other people, had a divine nature, and therefore, it was not possible for him to be crucified. In the only verse in the Qurʾān that deals with the cross of Jesus Christ, it is mentioned that Jesus was not crucified. For this reason, a significant part of the interpretations in the commentaries have some similarities with the views of the docetics at first glance. It is possible to see more of the similarities mentioned in the commentaries, especially in the so-called “substitutionary interpretation”, in which it is stated that someone else was crucified instead of Jesus. In the Christian world, it is often claimed that Islam emerged in the Arabian Peninsula, where Christian heretics are abundant, and that it was influenced by the views of some heretic Christians. In this context, starting with John of Damascus in the 8th century, based on the above-mentioned similarities, many Christian researchers throughout the history claimed that the Qurʾān took this view from docetics. In this study, there has been an attempt to examine all of these claims. In this context, first, the docetics were researched, and as a result, it was revealed that Christians named groups with very different views from the early times as “docetic”, and that there was no standart use of the concept of “docetic” in the Christian World for centuries. It appears that it was determined that the concept would be used as a kind of umbrella concept for groups considered heretical. Then in the article, the different translations and interpretations of the verse in the Qurʾān and certain sources from the classical and modern Islamic literature were selected and identified. This led to the examination of how the said verse was understood in the Islamic world throughout the history. In this context, all types of substitutionary interpretations in the commentaries were made into a list by mentioning the sources of these interpretations, and then, these interpretations and the views of the docetics were compared. After revealing the similarities and differences in the explanations and interpretations in the commentaries and the views of the docetics, a new perspective on the subject was attempted by trying to explain the verse outside of its traditional interpretation throughout the history, considering the context of this verse and the Jewish literature. Considering that various Jewish claims about Jesus and Mary were responded to at the beginning of Qurʾānic the verse and just before the verse that mentions the cross, information in the Jewish religious literature was consulted about the allegations that Jews killed Jesus as mentioned in this verse. In this context, Jewish claims about the end of the life of Jesus in the Talmud, that they first killed him and then crucified him, were adressed and researched. Furthermore, an attempt is made to explain that the use of wa-mā qatalūhu wa-mā ṣalabūhu in the verse may be an answer to the claims of the Jews that they first killed Jesus and then crucified him. These claims of the Jews in the Talmud are further explored, and considering the context of the Jews of that time, it is explicated that these actions would not have been possible due to the political conditions in that period. Taken together, this study has attempted to address that the view claiming that docetics have an impact on the Quran via the related verse is not validand that the actual recipient of the verse is the Jews. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:An I for an I: Projection, Subjection, and Christian Antisemitism in The Service for RepresentingAdam1 Richard J. Prystowsky Irvine Valley College You know well enough how to look in a mirror: Now look at this hand for me, and tell If my heart is sick or healthy. The Servicefor Representing Adam Far from experience producing his idea of the Jew, it was the latter which explained his experience. If (...) the Jew did not exist, the anti-Semite would invent him. Jean-Paul Sartre, Anti-Semite and Jew These wretched Jews, my own kindred, /... have more to be unhappy about than other peoples. The Holy Resurrection No modern theorist has done more to help us understand the nature of inter- and intra-personal and communal violence than has René Girard. Perhaps his most important insight into the workings of such violence, an insight grounding his other provocative discoveries concerning human conflict, is that the antagonistic participants in acts ofinter- and intra-personal and communal violence are "doubles" of each other. By demonstrating that 1 In their hyphenated forms, the terms "anti-Semite," "anti-Semitism," and "anti-Semitic" have sometimes proved more problematic than helpful. In order to avoid "fosterfing] the false impression that there is a wider ethnic entity against which 'anti-Semitism' is leveled" (Telushkin 467), and in light of the importance of the concept of antisemitism to the history of Jewhating, throughout this essay I follow the lead of those scholars who do not hyphenate the words "antisemite," "antisemitism," or "antisemitic." For more information concerning this issue, see Telushkin. 140Richard J. Prystowsky people fight not because they are different, but because they are the same, Girard has shown us how "violence is a great leveler of men" and has helped us to understand the serious consequences that either follow or can follow from mimetic rivalry (Violence 79). For example, he has helped us see how the internal violence occurring in a community in which differentiation has broken down finds its outlet in scapegoating, that mechanism by means of which a community in conflict with itself attempts to save itselfby sacrificing an expendable, arbitrary victim (who lacks a champion but whose real guilt or innocence is irrelevant) onto whom the collective victimizers have projected their own guilt, their own mimetically-oriented self-hatred—their own "sins," we might say. Among other things, Girard's critique of the mimetic rivalry characteristic of what we might call "the conflicted communal Self" also sheds light on the nature of the violence and victimization that we find in the history of Christian persecution of Jews. Without referring to Girard's ideas, the eminent historian Léon Poliakov nevertheless captures a Girardian view of this tragic history when he writes that "to massacre first, and then, from fear of revenge, to accuse afterward; to attribute to the victims one's own aggressive intentions; to impute to them one's own cruelty: from country to country and from century to century, under various disguises, this is the device we find" (106-7). In the present essay, I will attempt to show that such vengeance-laden acts of Christian persecution of Jews, of the Jew-as-Other, derive from antisemitic Christians' mimetic rivalry with Jews—an "I" for an "I," as this essay's title would suggest—and that underlying this rivalry is the introjection ofreal or imagined Jewish self-hatred.2 1 hope to demonstrate that this projected intra-victimization is marked, in part, by Christians' mimetic appropriations of fantasized or real acts of Jewish self-incrimination, punishment, or more generalized suffering. Ultimately, I will try to provide support for the idea that, despite its obvious promise and appeal of love, peace, and brotherhood, Christianity cannot wrest itself entirely from its moorings in real or fantasized Jewish self-hatred, that is, in an appropriation of enacted or imagined Judaism against itself. If my contentions prove even partially legitimate, then an overwhelming question for good-faith Christians is whether or not the peculiar brand of antisemitism discussed above is endemic to Christianity and, if it is, whether 2Sander L. Oilman's Jewish Self-Hatredremains the preeminent work on the relationship between Jewish self-hatred and antisemitism. Among... (shrink)

Singing and praying in the words of biblical men and women is basic to sacramental mimesis, i.e., Christian imitation of the actions of the saints with the intention of thereby opening themselves to grace. This evidence counters the “voiceless victim” paradigm prevalent in much feminist scholarship. In pre-Christian Jewish liturgy, the song of Miriam after the Crossing of the Red Sea was already important in the annual celebration of the Passover. Jesus emphasized the spiritual equality of the sexes in his (...) teaching and ministry, and this led to increased visibility for women in Christian tradition: Susanna was the first of at least eight women interpreted as types of Christ. She was presented this way even within the synoptic Gospels themselves [see “Aneboesen phone megale: Susanna and the Synoptic Passion Narratives,” forthcoming in Gregorianium]. Moreover, the practice of presenting examples from both sexes in sermons and church decoration was so pervasive as to constitute a pastoral program of the Church. Such balanced representation of the sexes is found in both texts and art. The linguistic range of the evidence for the singing of women’s words includes Greek, Latin, Coptic, Syriac, Slavonic, and German. The artworks depicting women are from throughout the Christian world, including Dura Europos, Jerusalem, Egypt, Ethiopia, Cyprus, Syria, Armenia, Italy, France, Belgium, Germany. More than twenty biblical women are treated in the essay. Women’s words, quoted from the biblical record or imaginatively supplied, became the prayer of the whole congregation. Miriam’s words remain focal universally on Holy Saturday. The acclamations of Elizabeth and of the Virgin Mary became prominent early in both East and West . Both Byzantine and Gregorian chant commemorated them and other women such as Eve, Esther, Judith, Sarah , Susanna, Martha of Bethany, the Samaritan woman, the Canaanite woman, the woman with the ointment, the Samaritan woman, the ten virgins of the parable , and especially the Holy Women at the Tomb . Their proclamation of the Lord’s rising became particularly important in Byzantine resurrection hymns used at Easter and year-round. With four other first-century female saints– Junia, Mariamne, Photina and Thecla– Mary Magdalene was deemed ἰσαπόστολος “equal to the apostles,” because the angel commissioned her to announce the Lord’s Resurrection to the disciples. Martha’s profession of faith is the fullest recorded in the Gospels and became the basis for a Byzantine communion prayer . Repeatedly, one finds that women’s words were sung at important Sunday feasts and during Holy Week. In Gregorian chant their words were sung over the course of several days. Susanna’s words are readily found in fifty Gregorian chant manuscripts from the ninth through fifteenth centuries, used in cathedrals, in monasteries and other religious houses, and in parish churches; an appendix lists these manuscripts. Throughout the continent–in Italy, Austria, Slovenia, Germany, Switzerland, France, The Netherlands, England, Wales–the varied communities of the church sang Susanna’s words. Moreover, her words as mediated through Gregorian chant were quoted by Bernard of Clairvaux in a sermon and by Hermann of Scheda in his account of his conversion from Judaism. These men used Susanna’s words to evoke her as a type of Christ and thereby to seek to be like him themselves. That is, they experienced sacramental mimesis through singing women’s words. (shrink)

What makes Jewish thought Jewish? This book proceeds from a view of the Hebrew language as the holy tongue; such a view of Hebrew is, indeed, a distinctively Jewish view as determined by the Jewish religious tradition. Because language shapes thought and Hebrew is the foundational language of Jewish texts, this book explores the idea that Jewish thought is distinguished by concepts and categories rooted in Hebrew. Drawing on more than 300 Hebrew roots, the author shows that Jewish thought employs (...) Hebrew concepts and categories that are altogether distinct from those that characterize the Western speculative tradition. Among the key categories that shape Jewish thought are holiness, divinity, humanity, prayer, responsibility, exile, dwelling, gratitude, and language itself. While the Hebrew language is central to the investigation, the reader need not have a knowledge of Hebrew in order to follow it. Essential reading for students and scholars of Judaism, this book will also be of value to anyone interested in the categories of thinking that form humanity's ultimate concerns. (shrink)

La tradition juive imprègne à tel point le discours philosophique de Levinas qu'on a pu le soupçonner d'être une théologie masquée de la transcendance. L'ambiguïté n'est qu'apparente. Son judaïsme est la voix singulière d’un recommencement. Dans sa jeunesse talmudique à Vilna, il a été à l'école d'une si haute pensée de la grandeur excessive de Dieu qu'elle échappe à nos représentations et décourage la philosophie de s'en faire l'interprète. Arrivé en France, s'adonnant avec émerveillement à la phénoménologie, il apprend d'elle (...) que l'esprit n'est rien que liaison au dehors, échange avec le monde et ouverture à autrui. Pour elle, le monde repose fondamentalement sur l'expérience empirique de la rencontre de l'homme, non directement sur la relation à Dieu. Mais dans l'exploration de son domaine propre, celui de l'existence finie, la raison se heurte à des limites – la mort, le visage d'autrui – où surgit une altérité exigeante, qui se refuse aux réductions et aux accaparements dont la transcendance divine est l'objet dans les religions même révélées et qui dénonce les violences infligées aux hommes au nom du divin. Ainsi transformée par son écoute de l'illimité, la raison phénoménologique déplace la notion de révélation. Dans le visage se révèle la sainteté de la personne, avec la justice absolue qui lui est due ; dans la sainte écriture, la responsabilité suprême de chacun vis-à-vis de l'autre. L'homme en perte d'identité se découvre orienté par un souffle de transcendance, non vers une vérité absolue, mais vers un Dieu absent qui s'est retiré dans son incognito.The Jewish tradition impregnates the philosophical discourse of Levinas to such an extent that one suspects it to be a theology of transcendence in disguise. The ambiguity is only apparent. His Judaism is a unique voice of a new beginning. In his Talmudic youth in Vilna, Levinas was at a school with such a high idea of the excessive greatness of God that it escapes our representations and discourages philosophy to be its interpreter. When he arrived in France he gave himself up to the wonder of phenomenology. From it he learned that the spirit is nothing other than liaison to the outside, interchange with the world, and openness to the other. The world is fundamentally based on the empirical experience of man’s encounter, not directly on relation to God. But reason, in the exploration of its own domain, finite existence, meets its limits – death, the visage of the other– where a demanding alterity arises. This latter refuses reductions and monopolizations whose object is divine transcendence, even in revealed religions, and denounces violence inflicted on men in the name of the divine. Thus transformed by listening to the limitless, phenomenological reason displaces the notion of revelation. In the visage is revealed the holiness of the person, with the absolute justice that is due him ; in Holy Scripture we find the supreme responsibility of each one toward the other. Man, in losing his identity, finds himself oriented by a breath of transcendence, not towards an absolute truth, but towards an absent God who has drawn back into its incognito. (shrink)

The article discusses the contribution of Moshe Idel’s vast research to the field of religious studies. The terms which best capture his overall approach are “plurality” and “complexity”. As a result, Idel rejects essentialist definitions of “Judaism”, or any other religious tradition. The ensuing question is: to what extent does his approach allow for the characterization of Judaism as a singular phenomenon which can be differentiated from other religions? The answer seems to lie in Idel’s definition of the “connectivity” between (...) the human and the divine as a relationship which “underlies the basic notion of religion as such”. Opposing Rudolph Otto’s description of the holy as remote, Idel explains holiness in terms of closeness and connection. This reading of religion is supported by that of sociologist Daniéle Hervieu-Léger, who describes religious practice as constructing a “chain of memory” - a term which echoes with Idel’s analysis of Jewish ritual as the construction of “enchanted chains” of connectivity. Hervieu-Léger’s study points towards the possibility of regarding Judaism, as a family-centered tradition, as paradigmatic for traditional religion. Indeed, in recent studies, Idel describes the construction of memory through ritual practice as the most important means of shaping identity for all forms of traditional Judaism. The model of “chains of memory” can be located in classical Jewish texts, such as a much-quoted passage by Nahmanidies - the extremely important thirteenth-century Kabbalist and legal authority. This text describes Jewish rituals as maintaining continuity across generations. We see then that the notion of connectivity moves us closer to the concerns found in central Jewish texts, rather than imposing modern agenda on them. It can also be used to determine to what extent a given idea or practice is connected to the chain of connectivity constructed by a given tradition or is rather tangential to it. In this sense, it is a corrective to the danger of “dispersion” that is implicit in Idel’s focus on plurality and complexity. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Levinas—Between Philosophy and Rhetoric:The “Teaching” of Levinas’s Scriptural ReferencesClaire Elise KatzIn an interview titled "On Jewish Philosophy," Emmanuel Levinas illuminates the connection that he sees between philosophical discourse and the role of midrash in interpreting the Hebrew scriptures. His interviewer immediately expresses surprise at Levinas's comments that suggested he saw the traditions of philosophy and biblical theology as in some sense harmonious (quoted in Robbins 2001, 239). Levinas responds (...) by elaborating on this connection he sees. For him, the lived experience of Judaism is above all a sense of belonging to humanity and, in turn, to a supreme order of responsibility (240). Although his intellectual life focused on the sacred texts of Judaism, this life included non-Jewish books, which he believed expressed a similar concern or a similar responsibility—a concern for the meaning of life. This list of such books includes Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear, The Miser, and The Misanthrope, in addition to the novels of Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky.In Levinas's view, these novels are not exercises of philosophyper se; as mentioned above, they express the same concerns that occupy philosophy, but they express these concerns in a different idiom. They do not offer a philosophical argument; instead, they use figurative language and literary narrative to convey their messages. By drawing this distinction between philosophy and literature, Levinas appears to have divided the written word into two categories: philosophy, on the one hand, and literary texts, on the other. Yet readers of his philosophical work cannot help but notice his frequent references to literary sources, including the numerous citations taken from the Jewish holy texts. His use of these citations encourages us to ask how we are to classify these books in general and how to classify, in particular, the Scriptures and the holy texts in Judaism. With regard to the holy texts in Judaism, should we classify them as simply a [End Page 159] literary device? Or, do they constitute a third category that falls somewhere in between philosophy and rhetoric? If the latter, then what is their status relative to these larger categories?Although Levinas insists on separating his two bodies of work—his philosophical writings and his Jewish writings—the distinction between them becomes increasingly blurred with his frequent introduction of citations from the Hebrew texts into his philosophy and by inflecting his Jewish writings with philosophical interpretations.1 In what follows, I examine the unique and significant role of Scriptural references within Levinas's philosophical work. My claim is that the Scriptural references are in fact rhetorical, but not "simply" rhetorical; they do pedagogical work for Levinas that other literary devices cannot accomplish. They engage his readers such that they are invited to grapple with the Scriptures in a manner potentially unfamiliar to them, and this invitation, in turn, has the pedagogical effect of attuning his readers to his texts and to his ethical project—even, one might say, to the other—and inviting them into an experience of transcendence.In the interview mentioned above, Levinas tells his interlocutor that for the Jews the Scriptures do not exist apart from the interpretations that accompany them. These interpretations are found in the collections of midrashim and the Talmud. One need know only a little bit about Hebrew and the construction of the Hebrew texts in order to see why these interpretations are significant. There are three grammatical concerns with the Hebrew language: first, biblical Hebrew does not contain vowels, though it does employ vowel aspirations; second, it is a language based on root letter combinations, and the meaning of these combinations alters, depending on the vowel aspirations that are inserted. For example, "Kiddish," the Hebrew blessing over wine, is based on a combination of Hebrew letters that are transliterated into English as KDSH. The blessing changes if we insert different vowel aspirations: "Kaddish" is the blessing said for those who have died. Third, biblical Hebrew lacks punctuation. Owing to the absence of vowels and punctuation, interpretation difficulties immediately emerge. The rabbinic model of midrash addresses these problems by offering multiple explanations and interpretations.Levinas, however, is not concerned with this aspect of the written language. Rather, he emphasizes... (shrink)

This article provides a comparative analysis of the attitudes of three major monotheistic religions – Judaism, Christianity and Islam – to the practice of usury and looks at why these attitudes developed in different ways. Each of the parts presents the opinions of one of the religious systems, analysing the Old and New Testaments, as well as the Koran, by looking at the duties that the Holy Scriptures required of their followers. The first part is devoted to Judaism. According to (...) this model, the moral value of usury was dependent on the ethnic and religious origins of the borrower probably because of special historical and cultural associations between the idea of money and the Jewish people. The second part is concerned with usury in Christian religion, presenting the attitude expressed in the Gospel, as well as later comments of Fathers of the Church, in order to put the change in moral attitudes to usury in its historical context. Finally, the article presents the point of view of Islam devoting particular attention to the historical reasons for the development of its specific attitude to usury, but also outlining contemporary solutions adopted in the present-day Islamic world. (shrink)

Once the Luwian hieroglyphics for God “” and Gate “” were discovered at Göbekli Tepe, this author was able to directly link the site’s carved pillars and pillar enclosures to the Abrahamic/Mosaic “Word of God”,. Archaeologists and anthropologists have long viewed the Bible as mankind’s best guide to prehistoric religion, however, archaeologist Klaus Schmidt had no reason to believe that the site he spent years excavating at Göbekli Tepe might be the legendary “Pillars of Enoch”, carved by the first Biblical (...) holy man and scribe. To make this connection, the author first had to decipher Judaism’s Razah D’Oraytah (Secret of Knowledge) from the Sefer Yetzirah (Book of Creation). The Book of Creation is the only text to explain the Secret of Knowledge, and the only text attributed to the prophet Abraham within the rabbinical community. The Zohar, Judaism’s most accessible Kabbalistic text, admits that it lacks knowledge of “deep and hidden things which issue from God’s thought and are taken up by the Voice [of God] which are not disclosed till the Word [] reveals them”. Abrahamic/Mosaic “Word of God” encrypts the mathematics of sound that emanates from God’s “Voice” in terms of ancient string theory. Just as modern string theory defines a Theory of Everything (ToE) within theoretical physics, so too does this ancient string theory define the Theory of Everything that Abraham named the “Living God”. The author’s previous paper ties Jewish sources to Göbekli Tepe, while the current paper applies this sonic “God Table” to the textual exegesis and hermeneutics structuring all religious creation allegories, including the writings of Sumer, Assyria, Babylonia, Vedic India, pre-Dynastic Egypt, Ugarit, and Israel. This paper will apply Göbekli Tepe’s structural template to archaeology’s oldest legible cuneiform tablets, including the Kesh Temple Hymn, Sumerian King List, and the Akkadian Ark Tablet. It will also be demonstrated that Göbekli Tepe holds the key to the Rig Veda, Hinduism’s oldest text, and defines the essence of Plato’s metaphysics. (shrink)

The article presents issues concerning the interpretation of the phenomenon of wealth in the context of Christian thought. From beginning, philosophical thought has been engaged in problems of tangible property and its influence on the human condition. The great philosophers indicated a way that the person should refer to the goods of this world. Plato, Aristotle, Seneca – each of them, according to his own vision of man and the world, referred in his texts to the problem of wealth. Equally (...) significant contributions has been made by the monotheistic religions, Judaism and Christianity. Along with the development of the Church, this phenomenon stood out as an essential point of teaching. Primitive and post-apostolic church, to some extent out of necessity, took polemics with the outside world. Separating faith from matters of management, with its beginning in the Enlightenment, shaken the moral underpinnings of the deeds related to wealth. Marxist philosophy gave impulse to another reflection of the Church over economic phenomena. Leon XIII and his Rerum novarum are a milestone in Catholic thought on negative phenomena within the economy. The Holy Father portrayed threats resulting from the Marxist concept, showing an anthropological concept which was appropriate from the point of view of the Christianity. Social and later encyclicals, treat issues related to wealth from the Christian anthropology standpoint. (shrink)

In some publications in book and newspaper forms, in the thoughts of civil servants who are concerned with national and religious issues, the version of Crimean Karaites belonging to Jewry still exists, considering their Karaite religion as a kind of Judaism only on the grounds that they have the Old Testament with their Holy Book The bible However, if one is to be strict in the logic of such reasoning, then Christianity should be included in Judaism, because in Christianity the (...) Sacred Book also has the same Old Testament. But for some reason, such conclusions about Christians do not apply to recipients of karayism. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:On (Im)Patient MessianismMarx, Levinas, and DerridaChung-Hsiung Lai (bio)In the past few decades a group of well-known thinkers and rising-star scholars within the field of continental philosophy have come together to rethink what “the messianic” might mean. From Levinas’s reading of the Talmud and Franz Rosenzweig, and Derrida’s work on Marx and Levinas, to Agamben’s reading of Benjamin and Saint Paul, and Žižek’s work on Saint Paul and Derrida, among (...) others, it is now possible to detect what Arthur Bradley and Paul Fletcher call “a messianic turn” in continental thought. To contribute to this ongoing “messianism” dialogue, this chapter aims to examine what could be termed “(im) patient messianism,” as illustrated in the writings of Marx, Levinas, and Derrida. Although these three philosophers are of Jewish decent (and all of them inherited the concept of Jewish messianism), they develop different, and yet intersecting, messianisms in their philosophies. While Marx’s political philosophy demands an impatient messianism entailing an impending apocalypse intended to achieve social justice, Levinas’s ethical messianism requires absolute patience to pursue justice for the Other in infinity. Resorting to both Levinasian ethics and Marxist politics, Derrida’s spectral (im)patient messianism attempts to [End Page 59] demonstrate the possibility of moving from the ethical to the political without returning to the mire of either ontology or theology. Nevertheless, all three thinkers have problems associated with their messianic beliefs. Simplifying to the extreme, I define (im)patient messianism as the dynamic of a three-dimensional humanism that will be explained in the conclusion after the analysis of (im)patient messianism in the works of the three messianic thinkers.Jewish Messianism and the Messianic Now“What is the messianic? Where does it come from? And why speak of the messianic now? It is, on the face of it, difficult to imagine anything less contemporary — more untimely — than talk of Messiahs, redeemers, chosen people, last judgement.... Yet, paradoxically, it might be precisely this radical sense of untimeliness — of ever becoming ‘timely’ or happening ‘now’ — that represents the messianic’s greatest value of our time, to ‘now-time.’... In other words, the messianic now might actually be something that enables us to think, write and perhaps even judge our ‘now’ otherwise.”1The word Messiah is derived from the Hebrew mashah (“the anointed”) and refers to an eschatological redeemer, a savior, of a group of people. In Difficult Freedom, Levinas points out “messianism in the strong sense of the term has been compromised in the Jewish consciousness since Emancipation, ever since Jews participated in world history” (DF 96). In “Toward an Understanding of the Messianic Idea in Judaism,” Gershom Scholem also claims that “Judaism, in all its forms and manifestations, has always maintained a concept of redemption as an event which takes place publicly, on the stage of history and within the community.”2 Messianism appears “as a living force in the world of Judaism.”3 In truth, the idea of messianism originated in Judaism and is also used in the other Abrahamic religions, namely Christianity and Islam. According to Jewish eschatology, the Messiah is a king or High Priest, traditionally anointed with holy oil to be the ruler of God’s Kingdom. After a series of wars and disasters, [End Page 60] God will send the Messiah to redeem the Jewish people and the world, taking the Jews back to Israel and rebuilding Jerusalem. Specifically, this future Jewish Messiah is thought to be a human leader,4 physically descended from the paternal Davidic line through King David5 and King Solomon,6 who will usher in the Messianic Age of peace for Israel and all the nations of the world. At this time, enemies will become friends, the wicked will abandon evil and do good, so the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the child shall play with the beasts.7Since the Jews have suffered thousands of years of persecution and diaspora, the arrival of the Messiah has become an important concept in their eschatology and living tradition. The messianic is actually a matter of promise, advent, waiting, hope, and redemption. Hence, it... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:On (Im)Patient MessianismMarx, Levinas, and DerridaChung-Hsiung Lai (bio)In the past few decades a group of well-known thinkers and rising-star scholars within the field of continental philosophy have come together to rethink what “the messianic” might mean. From Levinas’s reading of the Talmud and Franz Rosenzweig, and Derrida’s work on Marx and Levinas, to Agamben’s reading of Benjamin and Saint Paul, and Žižek’s work on Saint Paul and Derrida, among (...) others, it is now possible to detect what Arthur Bradley and Paul Fletcher call “a messianic turn” in continental thought. To contribute to this ongoing “messianism” dialogue, this chapter aims to examine what could be termed “(im) patient messianism,” as illustrated in the writings of Marx, Levinas, and Derrida. Although these three philosophers are of Jewish decent (and all of them inherited the concept of Jewish messianism), they develop different, and yet intersecting, messianisms in their philosophies. While Marx’s political philosophy demands an impatient messianism entailing an impending apocalypse intended to achieve social justice, Levinas’s ethical messianism requires absolute patience to pursue justice for the Other in infinity. Resorting to both Levinasian ethics and Marxist politics, Derrida’s spectral (im)patient messianism attempts to [End Page 59] demonstrate the possibility of moving from the ethical to the political without returning to the mire of either ontology or theology. Nevertheless, all three thinkers have problems associated with their messianic beliefs. Simplifying to the extreme, I define (im)patient messianism as the dynamic of a three-dimensional humanism that will be explained in the conclusion after the analysis of (im)patient messianism in the works of the three messianic thinkers.Jewish Messianism and the Messianic Now“What is the messianic? Where does it come from? And why speak of the messianic now? It is, on the face of it, difficult to imagine anything less contemporary — more untimely — than talk of Messiahs, redeemers, chosen people, last judgement.... Yet, paradoxically, it might be precisely this radical sense of untimeliness — of ever becoming ‘timely’ or happening ‘now’ — that represents the messianic’s greatest value of our time, to ‘now-time.’... In other words, the messianic now might actually be something that enables us to think, write and perhaps even judge our ‘now’ otherwise.”1The word Messiah is derived from the Hebrew mashah (“the anointed”) and refers to an eschatological redeemer, a savior, of a group of people. In Difficult Freedom, Levinas points out “messianism in the strong sense of the term has been compromised in the Jewish consciousness since Emancipation, ever since Jews participated in world history” (DF 96). In “Toward an Understanding of the Messianic Idea in Judaism,” Gershom Scholem also claims that “Judaism, in all its forms and manifestations, has always maintained a concept of redemption as an event which takes place publicly, on the stage of history and within the community.”2 Messianism appears “as a living force in the world of Judaism.”3 In truth, the idea of messianism originated in Judaism and is also used in the other Abrahamic religions, namely Christianity and Islam. According to Jewish eschatology, the Messiah is a king or High Priest, traditionally anointed with holy oil to be the ruler of God’s Kingdom. After a series of wars and disasters, [End Page 60] God will send the Messiah to redeem the Jewish people and the world, taking the Jews back to Israel and rebuilding Jerusalem. Specifically, this future Jewish Messiah is thought to be a human leader,4 physically descended from the paternal Davidic line through King David5 and King Solomon,6 who will usher in the Messianic Age of peace for Israel and all the nations of the world. At this time, enemies will become friends, the wicked will abandon evil and do good, so the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the child shall play with the beasts.7Since the Jews have suffered thousands of years of persecution and diaspora, the arrival of the Messiah has become an important concept in their eschatology and living tradition. The messianic is actually a matter of promise, advent, waiting, hope, and redemption. Hence, it... (shrink)