Philosophers, Conversos, and the Jewish Campaign against Heresy in 15th-Century Spain – Benzion Chinn (The Ohio State University)
One has to admit that there is something just a little bit odd about studying orthodox attempts to suppress “heretical” ideas. As academics, our very lifeblood is free inquiry. It would only be natural for us to simply view these defenders of orthodoxy as the “ultimate evil,” attempting to destroy "reason" and establishing the tyranny of “dogma” and “superstition.” I believe this speaks to the best of the historical profession that we are committed to giving all those from the past a chance to speak, particularly those who seem to be the most distant from “modernity.”
This paper is primarily about a question and I will spend most of my time dealing with this question. I will suggest a solution. Not that I am convinced that I have the evidence to completely solve the question. I would be interested in getting feedback if anyone can offer anything to further my case or to refute it.
One of the major features of Spanish Jewish thought, during the fifteenth century, was its polemic against philosophy. Philosophy was supposed to lead to the abandonment of the commandments, to heresy and even to apostasy. This element received particular emphasis in the work of the late Yitzchak Baer and his History of the Jews in Christian Spain. (Probably the finest study of any one particular Jewish community.) I first started exploring this topic with the intention of writing about the practical side of this move against philosophy, such as bans, book burnings, and excommunications. It seemed only logical that such things went on; what is the point of denouncing philosophy if you are not going to actually do something about it? As I am sure many of you can relate to, this project took a dramatic shift when, after several weeks of work, I realized that I had absolutely no evidence of such things happening. Out of frustration, as strange as this sounds, I found myself almost yelling at my sources: “what is wrong with you people? Why do you not show some spine and ban something?” I could have pretended that I had the evidence and hoped no one would notice. Instead, I chose what I think is the more interesting option and asked myself why I had no evidence. We are left with the conclusion that the reason we have no evidence of bans, book burnings and excommunications is that they did not happen.
So why would a rabbinic establishment devote so much energy to denouncing philosophy without taking any practical measures against it? To suggest some obvious possibilities: Maybe Jews were remarkably tolerant and did not go for banning books? Maybe Jews were just not that interested in dogma? Maybe the Jewish community during this period was remarkably orthodox and there were no dangerous philosophers? Maybe Jews just did not have the power to do something about it?
Attempts by the Jewish community to take action against perceived heterodox beliefs had clear precedent both within Spain and outside of it. Spanish Jewry possessed a particularly strong precedent for the active suppression of heterodox beliefs since it served as the host for most of the Maimonidean controversies. In 1232 Solomon of Montpellier and his students, Jonah of Gerondi and David b. Saul banned Maimonides’ Guide to the Perplexed. Furthermore, Solomon sent Jonah of Gerondi to Northern France in order to gain support for the ban. The Rabbis of Northern France themselves went and banned this book as well. The Maimonideans responded with a ban of their own against Solomon of Montpellier. Furthermore, they sent David Kimhi to Spain to rally support for their position. While Kimhi gained the support of a number of important community leaders, he met some fierce opposition from such Jewish leaders as Nachmonides, Judah Alfakar, and Abulafia. This fighting only came to a close when the Inquisition got involved and burned copies of the Guide.[1] This event shocked both sides and caused them to temporally halt their campaigns.
A similar controversy occurred in the fourteenth century. In 1304 Abba Mari ben Moses (d.c. 1310) and Solomon ben Aderet (1235-1310), the chief rabbi of Barcelona and student of Jonah of Gerondi, issued a ban of excommunication on all those under twenty-five who studied philosophy. The focus of Abba Mari and Aderet’ zeal was Levi ben Abraham of Villefranche who supposedly claimed that Abraham and Sarah represented Form and Matter and were not real historical figures. As with the case of Solomon of Montpellier, this attempt also met with stiff opposition from a number of scholars, most notably Menahem Meiri. Abba Mari collected his correspondence in a book titled Minhat Kinot (Offering of Jealously). It serves to detail all of his efforts to stamp out Aristotelian thought within the Jewish community. His efforts to get different communities to sign on to his ban, the rabbis that he convinced to sign and those that turned against him. He also recounts his efforts to defend himself against his opponents, who went after him personally and tried to destroy his reputation.[2]
As strange as this sounds, one has to admire these people. They took a principled stand, based on what they believed, and where even willing to put themselves at some professional risk for those beliefs. Keep in mind that the pro-Maimonidean forces possessed considerable power and were perfectly capable of moving against those who dared oppose them.
To move on to the issue of dogma. The central figure in the history of Jewish dogma was Maimonides (1138-1205) with his Thirteen Principles of Faith. As Menachem Kellner has argued, Maimonides attempted to reformulate Judaism as a theologically based religion as opposed to a law-based one. Furthermore, Maimonides redefined the meaning of being a Jew. For Maimonides a Jew was not simply someone born to a Jewish mother or a convert to Judaism; a Jew was someone who believed in the dogmas of Judaism. While Maimonides’ thought played a major role in the theological controversies of the Middle-Ages, his Principles of Faith only came to play an important role in fifteenth-century Spain. It was Hasdai Crescas (1350-1410) and his student Joseph Albo (1380-1445) who first made an issue out of it. They criticized Maimonides’ choices as to which doctrines should be viewed as the foundations and axioms upon which Judaism was to be based and put forth their own alternative lists of dogmas. Kellner suggests that the reason for this sudden interest in dogma was the church’s missionary assault at the end of the fourteenth and early fifteenth century. Christianity set the terms of debate and that meant dogma. Any responses on the part of Jews needed to formulate a conception of Jewish dogma and how it was different from Christian dogma. This predicament lead Jews back to Maimonides and the acceptance of all or parts of his reformulation of Judaism.
While Kellner notes in passing that this interest in dogma did not lead to any fissures within the Jewish community, he does not bother to follow through and consider the implications of this lack of any real-world crackdown on heresy. One would think that the point of formulating an official established dogma was so that one could define heresy. Once we have an official dogma all those who do not conform to it are heretics and should be persecuted. Why would someone go through so much trouble formulated dogma unless they intended to use it as a platform with which they could hunt after heretics? Both Crescas and Albo, in the early part of the fifteenth century, and Isaac Arama (1420-97) and Isaac Abarbanel (1437-1508), in the latter part, engaged in anti-philosophical polemics and in attempts to formulate official Jewish dogma. For some strange reason, though, none of these people ever banned a book or excommunicated someone for their philosophical leanings.
Where there radical Jewish philosophers in the fifteenth century? We do have some evidence to indicate that the Jewish community possessed some active philosophical radicals during this period. The mid fifteenth-century preacher, Haim ibn Musa, in a letter to his son wrote:
Now there is a new type of preacher. They rise to the lectern to preach before the reading of the Torah, and most of their sermons consist of syllogistic arguments and quotations from the philosophers. They mention by name Aristotle, Alexander, Themistius, Plato, Averroes, and Ptolemy, while Abbaye and Raba are concealed in their mouths. The Torah waits upon the reading stand like a dejected woman who had prepared herself properly by ritual immersion and awaited her husband; then, returning from the house of his mistress, he glanced at her and left without paying her further heed.[3]
While Ibn Musa did not give any specific names, the preachers he attacked clearly lived in his time.
[1] Whether or not the anti-Maimonideans denounced the works of Maimonides to the Inquisition is an open question. Maimonideans, such as Hillel of Verona, blamed their opponents for what happened and sought to use this event as a means of discrediting them. Daniel Silver has argued that such actions would have been highly unlikely as it would have elicited the complete opposition of the Jewish community at large.
[2] For more on the Maimonidean controversies see Joseph Sarachek, Faith and Reason, Daniel Silver’s Maimonidean Criticism and the Maimonidean Controversy and Bernard Septimus’ Hispano-Jewish Culture in Transition: the Career and Controversies of Ramah.
[3] Saperstein, Jewish Preachers pg. 386.
(To be continued ...)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
International Medieval Congress: Day One Session Three
Reasoning with Heretics
Right Belief and Right Knowledge: Epistemological Subversion in the Cloud of Unknowing – Chance Woods (University of Oklahoma)
According to the anonymous author of the fourteenth century text, the Cloud of Unknowing, the prime source of heresy is the claim to know God. Complete union with God is impossible. This concept of the radical inability to know God comes from Pseudo-Dionysius. Traditional scholarship on religion thought in terms of object of experience. This model does not work for Pseudo-Dionysius or Cloud of Unknowing. The Cloud of Unknowing does not want the reader to focus on any one thing. He downplays rationality, but views the imagination as dangerous. The only response to the call of Grace is silence. The particular target of the Cloud of Unknowing’s hostility to images was the English mystic Richard Rolle. Rolle talked about feeling the Holy Spirit like a fire in his belly, which Cloud of Unknowing suggests may have been indigestion. For Cloud of Unknowing, images lead to heresy because they come from ignoring one’s spiritual mentor and pursuing images which are the products of one’s own mind. Soon such visions become addictive and Satan willingly aids in providing such images as will lead the foolhardy seeker away from the doctrines of the Church.
‘Protego – proterreo’: Pantaleon as Pagan Medicus, Healing Saint, and Heretical Magician – Dick E. H. de Boer (Rijksuniversiteit)
There is not a clear distinction between the miracles of saints and the feats of a magician. This comes out of the larger problem that, contrary to Emile Durkheim, religious ritual is not necessarily about making the distinction between the sacred and the profane. This is particularly the case with people in the Middle Ages for whom religious ritual often was distinctively about dealing with the profane and for whom religion had a distinctive magical quality.
The two most famous Catholic saints connected to medicine are Saint Cosmas and Saint Damian, twin brothers, who worked as physicians and were martyred during the third century. One miracle story of theirs has them grafting a leg of an Ethiopian onto an amputee. Another saint who is not as well remembered today is Saint Pantaleon. Pantaleon had a Christian mother and a pagan father. While he grew up as a Christian he became a pagan as an adult. He later, though returned to Christianity. (This story is almost exactly like Augustine’s.) Pantaleon served as an imperial physician in Nicomedia, but was martyred at the beginning of the fourth century. The charge against him was that he was a magician. According to legend he went through burning, hot lead, wild beast and the sword until finally he prayed for death.
For some strange reason Pantaleon is not nearly as famous as the twins. He only seemed to pick up much of a following as an individual saint during the Middle Ages in the Rhineland. During the Black Death we do see Pantaleon listed as one of the fourteen holy helpers. The popular image of Pantaleon is of him getting a nail through the head. This image is used as an amulet.
The words "hocus pocus" most probably are a mangled version of the Latin “hoc est corpus,” this is the body. One suspects that this was some magician imitating the priest consecrating the Eucharist. The words” hoc est corp[us]” appear on an amulet with the image of Pantaleon.
(I actually presented second, but I am going to leave my presentation for the next post. There were not a whole lot of people there. I suspect it was because we consisted of two graduate students and one legitimate scholar and because we dealt with such diverse topics. After the presentation I had a very interesting conversation with Chance Woods. Interesting as in it went on for about two hours. It was largely a running exchange of observations on religion in the Middle Ages and in the present. To my surprise, Chance knows quite a bit about Judaism. Apparently the University of Oklahoma has a decent Jewish Studies Department with the likes of Norman Stillman on board. So keep an eye out in the future for Chance Woods; he is someone special.)
Right Belief and Right Knowledge: Epistemological Subversion in the Cloud of Unknowing – Chance Woods (University of Oklahoma)
According to the anonymous author of the fourteenth century text, the Cloud of Unknowing, the prime source of heresy is the claim to know God. Complete union with God is impossible. This concept of the radical inability to know God comes from Pseudo-Dionysius. Traditional scholarship on religion thought in terms of object of experience. This model does not work for Pseudo-Dionysius or Cloud of Unknowing. The Cloud of Unknowing does not want the reader to focus on any one thing. He downplays rationality, but views the imagination as dangerous. The only response to the call of Grace is silence. The particular target of the Cloud of Unknowing’s hostility to images was the English mystic Richard Rolle. Rolle talked about feeling the Holy Spirit like a fire in his belly, which Cloud of Unknowing suggests may have been indigestion. For Cloud of Unknowing, images lead to heresy because they come from ignoring one’s spiritual mentor and pursuing images which are the products of one’s own mind. Soon such visions become addictive and Satan willingly aids in providing such images as will lead the foolhardy seeker away from the doctrines of the Church.
‘Protego – proterreo’: Pantaleon as Pagan Medicus, Healing Saint, and Heretical Magician – Dick E. H. de Boer (Rijksuniversiteit)
There is not a clear distinction between the miracles of saints and the feats of a magician. This comes out of the larger problem that, contrary to Emile Durkheim, religious ritual is not necessarily about making the distinction between the sacred and the profane. This is particularly the case with people in the Middle Ages for whom religious ritual often was distinctively about dealing with the profane and for whom religion had a distinctive magical quality.
The two most famous Catholic saints connected to medicine are Saint Cosmas and Saint Damian, twin brothers, who worked as physicians and were martyred during the third century. One miracle story of theirs has them grafting a leg of an Ethiopian onto an amputee. Another saint who is not as well remembered today is Saint Pantaleon. Pantaleon had a Christian mother and a pagan father. While he grew up as a Christian he became a pagan as an adult. He later, though returned to Christianity. (This story is almost exactly like Augustine’s.) Pantaleon served as an imperial physician in Nicomedia, but was martyred at the beginning of the fourth century. The charge against him was that he was a magician. According to legend he went through burning, hot lead, wild beast and the sword until finally he prayed for death.
For some strange reason Pantaleon is not nearly as famous as the twins. He only seemed to pick up much of a following as an individual saint during the Middle Ages in the Rhineland. During the Black Death we do see Pantaleon listed as one of the fourteen holy helpers. The popular image of Pantaleon is of him getting a nail through the head. This image is used as an amulet.
The words "hocus pocus" most probably are a mangled version of the Latin “hoc est corpus,” this is the body. One suspects that this was some magician imitating the priest consecrating the Eucharist. The words” hoc est corp[us]” appear on an amulet with the image of Pantaleon.
(I actually presented second, but I am going to leave my presentation for the next post. There were not a whole lot of people there. I suspect it was because we consisted of two graduate students and one legitimate scholar and because we dealt with such diverse topics. After the presentation I had a very interesting conversation with Chance Woods. Interesting as in it went on for about two hours. It was largely a running exchange of observations on religion in the Middle Ages and in the present. To my surprise, Chance knows quite a bit about Judaism. Apparently the University of Oklahoma has a decent Jewish Studies Department with the likes of Norman Stillman on board. So keep an eye out in the future for Chance Woods; he is someone special.)
Friday, July 17, 2009
International Medieval Congress: Day One Session Two
Dangerous Doctrines, II: Heresy trials and the Limits of Learning
Parisian Pantheism or Maurice’s Magic? A Re-Interpretation of the Condemnation of 1210 and 1215 – Thomas Gruber (Merton College, University of Oxford)
In the early thirteenth century we see a number of accusations against heresy. Robert of Courson, in the Statutes of the University of Paris of 1215, lists three groups. There are the Amalricians, followers of Amalric of Bena, who preached pantheistic creed in which there is no difference between creator and created. This group managed to grow large enough to form a sect and cause enough concern to be spied upon. There is David of Dinant, another pantheist philosopher. The third person mentioned is a Mauricii hyspani, Maurice the Spaniard. This Maurice is the twelfth century anti-Pope Gregory VIII, originally named Maurice Bourdin.
Maurice was the archbishop of Braga and close to Pope Paschalis II. Sent as an envoy to Henry V, Maurice switched to the side of the emperor, who repaid this action by making him Pope Gregory VIII. Maurice’s reign as pope did not last long. As the tide turned against the emperor, Maurice was captured, put on display and humiliated. There is an image of Maurice serving as a footstool to the pope. Later the archbishop of Toledo uses this to show the supremacy of Toledo over Braga.
What was Maurice’s doctrine? It would seem that Maurice was accused of necromancy. We have a magical text sent by John of Seville to a Pope Gregory to guard against kidney stones. This recipe represented a magic tradition that was condemned in 1215. Maurice’s name was added in order to add an element of menace to it. This would add an element to 1215 besides for Aristotelianism and pantheism.
Indians, Demons, and the Death of the Soul: Necromancy and Talismanic Magic at the University of Paris in 1277 - Matthias Heiduk (Albert-Ludwigs-Universitat)
We see a condemnation of magic in Paris in 1277 besides for the more famous attacks on Aristotle by Bishop Stephen Tempier. Who were the targets? Why would people in the Middle Ages have been interested in magic and why would the Church be against it. We possess several geomancy books which start with Estimaverunt Indi. The sorts of crimes of things we see listed are Nigromancy, a term often conflated with necromancy, invocation of demons, and talismans. We do not know if magical books were at the University of Paris or if magic was being taught to the students, but we do know that they were being read in the thirteenth century. William of Auvergne mentions that he studied magic in his youth before he became Bishop. These rituals involved the veneration of demons.
‘Ruditas et brevitas intellectu illorum’: Meister Eckhart against the Inquisition - Alessandra Beccarisi (Universita del Salento)
Charges of heresy were often used for political reasons. The move against Meister Eckhart was a good example of this. The Political situation in Germany in 1325-26 played a critical role in this, particularly in regards to the papal representative, Nicholas of Strasbourg. In 1324 Pope John XXII excommunicated Ludwig of Bavaria. Dominicans had to decide where they going to side. John decided to interfere directly with the Dominicans. There were sympathizers with Ludwig in the order. Nicholas of Strasbourg visited Cologne which was a particular delicate situation. Eckhart was a Dominican closely in the public eye so he became a target. His preaching in the vernacular about poverty came to be seen as an attack on the papacy. Nicholas served as the pope’s vicar and ended up defending Eckhart. We see a shift in the Dominican order and monks friendly to the pope are put in charge. Once Eckhart is on trial at Avignon away from his enemies the charges are relaxed and the charges of heresy are dropped.
Parisian Pantheism or Maurice’s Magic? A Re-Interpretation of the Condemnation of 1210 and 1215 – Thomas Gruber (Merton College, University of Oxford)
In the early thirteenth century we see a number of accusations against heresy. Robert of Courson, in the Statutes of the University of Paris of 1215, lists three groups. There are the Amalricians, followers of Amalric of Bena, who preached pantheistic creed in which there is no difference between creator and created. This group managed to grow large enough to form a sect and cause enough concern to be spied upon. There is David of Dinant, another pantheist philosopher. The third person mentioned is a Mauricii hyspani, Maurice the Spaniard. This Maurice is the twelfth century anti-Pope Gregory VIII, originally named Maurice Bourdin.
Maurice was the archbishop of Braga and close to Pope Paschalis II. Sent as an envoy to Henry V, Maurice switched to the side of the emperor, who repaid this action by making him Pope Gregory VIII. Maurice’s reign as pope did not last long. As the tide turned against the emperor, Maurice was captured, put on display and humiliated. There is an image of Maurice serving as a footstool to the pope. Later the archbishop of Toledo uses this to show the supremacy of Toledo over Braga.
What was Maurice’s doctrine? It would seem that Maurice was accused of necromancy. We have a magical text sent by John of Seville to a Pope Gregory to guard against kidney stones. This recipe represented a magic tradition that was condemned in 1215. Maurice’s name was added in order to add an element of menace to it. This would add an element to 1215 besides for Aristotelianism and pantheism.
Indians, Demons, and the Death of the Soul: Necromancy and Talismanic Magic at the University of Paris in 1277 - Matthias Heiduk (Albert-Ludwigs-Universitat)
We see a condemnation of magic in Paris in 1277 besides for the more famous attacks on Aristotle by Bishop Stephen Tempier. Who were the targets? Why would people in the Middle Ages have been interested in magic and why would the Church be against it. We possess several geomancy books which start with Estimaverunt Indi. The sorts of crimes of things we see listed are Nigromancy, a term often conflated with necromancy, invocation of demons, and talismans. We do not know if magical books were at the University of Paris or if magic was being taught to the students, but we do know that they were being read in the thirteenth century. William of Auvergne mentions that he studied magic in his youth before he became Bishop. These rituals involved the veneration of demons.
‘Ruditas et brevitas intellectu illorum’: Meister Eckhart against the Inquisition - Alessandra Beccarisi (Universita del Salento)
Charges of heresy were often used for political reasons. The move against Meister Eckhart was a good example of this. The Political situation in Germany in 1325-26 played a critical role in this, particularly in regards to the papal representative, Nicholas of Strasbourg. In 1324 Pope John XXII excommunicated Ludwig of Bavaria. Dominicans had to decide where they going to side. John decided to interfere directly with the Dominicans. There were sympathizers with Ludwig in the order. Nicholas of Strasbourg visited Cologne which was a particular delicate situation. Eckhart was a Dominican closely in the public eye so he became a target. His preaching in the vernacular about poverty came to be seen as an attack on the papacy. Nicholas served as the pope’s vicar and ended up defending Eckhart. We see a shift in the Dominican order and monks friendly to the pope are put in charge. Once Eckhart is on trial at Avignon away from his enemies the charges are relaxed and the charges of heresy are dropped.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
International Medieval Congress: Day One Session One
Heretical Destructions: Incitement and Symbolic Violence
Moving Violence: Images of Persecution in Late Medieval Art – Assaf Pinkus (Tel Aviv University)
There is a certain allegorical framework to medieval depictions of violence. There is the motif of monsters and the damned in hell and the triumph of faithful. In the twelfth century we begin to see a lot more martyr cycles. Early studies have focused on these stories in terms of the life and suffering of Christ. We see St. James the Greater holding on to his head after it has been cut off. St. Denis, as contrast, is depicted as being crowned by angels, standing in victory. St. James is down on the ground and clearly suffering. St. Simon has his head split open. St. James the Lesser has an ax in his head. These violent images are shown outside the context of the suffering of Christ. Furthermore, the use of smashed limbs creates an image of submission rather than triumph.
This can be seen as an inversion of values. We see the moral triumph of those suffering in that they demonstrate their suffering. Did viewers see this as violent? Did the audience enjoy a voyeuristic sense of suffering? Caroline Bynum argues that these images were not viewed as violent but as access to the body of Christ. This is in keeping with the Augustinian bifurcation of body and spirit. Contrast to the violence of the spirit when one is forced to renounce one’s faith. Aquinas, it should be noted, argues that the body is the form of the spirit. This changes the straight dichotomy of Augustine.
Late medieval violence did not just exist in the symbolic sense; there is a growing awareness of urban violence. These depictions of the violent martyrdom of these saints was meant to confront this everyday urban violence.
The Destruction of Heretical Books – Alexander Murray (University College, University of Oxford)
There is an interest in the destruction of books that is not just school boy impishness. We are part of a culture that worship of books. Fernando Baez has a book on book burnings for those who are interested. Much of the historical destruction of books has happened not through censorship but through simple neglect. If you look at Hogarth’s Gin Lane painting you will see a wheel barrow of books going to the trunk makers.
This presentation is a summary of a book by Thomas Werner titled Den Irrtum liquidieren Bücherverbrennungen im Mittelalter. There is nothing original in this presentation but then again originality is a modern value. Werner deals with some 200 book burnings during the Middle Ages. They become more common after 1200. In the fourteenth century you have the Wycliffe persecution which leads to a lot of books being burned. You see more censorship for a while. Then in 1521 Lutheran books are being burned in London. Jonathan Israel’s Radical Enlightenment has a lot on book burnings. Lots more books were destroyed during the Enlightenment. This has to do with the increased production of books.
Book burnings were an efficacious sign; it demonstrated things. Books were even written in order to be burned. For example there is a whole genre of collections of errors by teachers accused of heresy that students were asked to write in order to denounce those teachers. This happened particularly in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Copies of heretical books were sometimes kept in order to identify the heresy in the future. Johann Huss’ works were kept in Rome even though they were burned at Constance. Burning is actually a hard way to get rid of books. Cutting or tearing a book up make more sense, but were considered a lesser punishment than burning.
This emphasis on burning applies to the burning of heretics as well. Heretics who were dead or unavailable were burned in effigy. We have examples of where the defendant is made to burn his own books as a sign of penance. We see this with Abelard. Lollards were put on display with their books hanging from them along with faggots as a sign to where the books were headed.
What did one do with books that were a mixture of orthodoxy and heresy? Pico de Mirandola had only three thesis declared to be heretical. Yet all nine hundred were burned. This attitude runs counter to scholastic dialectic where one preserves the heretical view in order to respond to it. Huss and his followers make this point. If one burned an entire book because of it contained a heretical statement then Canon Law would have to go as well as the Old Testament as these books contain heretical statements. Also, forcing someone to burn something he believes to be true would force them to sin. They would be acting against their conscious.
Moving Violence: Images of Persecution in Late Medieval Art – Assaf Pinkus (Tel Aviv University)
There is a certain allegorical framework to medieval depictions of violence. There is the motif of monsters and the damned in hell and the triumph of faithful. In the twelfth century we begin to see a lot more martyr cycles. Early studies have focused on these stories in terms of the life and suffering of Christ. We see St. James the Greater holding on to his head after it has been cut off. St. Denis, as contrast, is depicted as being crowned by angels, standing in victory. St. James is down on the ground and clearly suffering. St. Simon has his head split open. St. James the Lesser has an ax in his head. These violent images are shown outside the context of the suffering of Christ. Furthermore, the use of smashed limbs creates an image of submission rather than triumph.
This can be seen as an inversion of values. We see the moral triumph of those suffering in that they demonstrate their suffering. Did viewers see this as violent? Did the audience enjoy a voyeuristic sense of suffering? Caroline Bynum argues that these images were not viewed as violent but as access to the body of Christ. This is in keeping with the Augustinian bifurcation of body and spirit. Contrast to the violence of the spirit when one is forced to renounce one’s faith. Aquinas, it should be noted, argues that the body is the form of the spirit. This changes the straight dichotomy of Augustine.
Late medieval violence did not just exist in the symbolic sense; there is a growing awareness of urban violence. These depictions of the violent martyrdom of these saints was meant to confront this everyday urban violence.
The Destruction of Heretical Books – Alexander Murray (University College, University of Oxford)
There is an interest in the destruction of books that is not just school boy impishness. We are part of a culture that worship of books. Fernando Baez has a book on book burnings for those who are interested. Much of the historical destruction of books has happened not through censorship but through simple neglect. If you look at Hogarth’s Gin Lane painting you will see a wheel barrow of books going to the trunk makers.
Agobard of Lyons Opera Omnia was saved by mere chance from being turned into wrapping paper.
This presentation is a summary of a book by Thomas Werner titled Den Irrtum liquidieren Bücherverbrennungen im Mittelalter. There is nothing original in this presentation but then again originality is a modern value. Werner deals with some 200 book burnings during the Middle Ages. They become more common after 1200. In the fourteenth century you have the Wycliffe persecution which leads to a lot of books being burned. You see more censorship for a while. Then in 1521 Lutheran books are being burned in London. Jonathan Israel’s Radical Enlightenment has a lot on book burnings. Lots more books were destroyed during the Enlightenment. This has to do with the increased production of books.
Book burnings were an efficacious sign; it demonstrated things. Books were even written in order to be burned. For example there is a whole genre of collections of errors by teachers accused of heresy that students were asked to write in order to denounce those teachers. This happened particularly in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Copies of heretical books were sometimes kept in order to identify the heresy in the future. Johann Huss’ works were kept in Rome even though they were burned at Constance. Burning is actually a hard way to get rid of books. Cutting or tearing a book up make more sense, but were considered a lesser punishment than burning.
This emphasis on burning applies to the burning of heretics as well. Heretics who were dead or unavailable were burned in effigy. We have examples of where the defendant is made to burn his own books as a sign of penance. We see this with Abelard. Lollards were put on display with their books hanging from them along with faggots as a sign to where the books were headed.
What did one do with books that were a mixture of orthodoxy and heresy? Pico de Mirandola had only three thesis declared to be heretical. Yet all nine hundred were burned. This attitude runs counter to scholastic dialectic where one preserves the heretical view in order to respond to it. Huss and his followers make this point. If one burned an entire book because of it contained a heretical statement then Canon Law would have to go as well as the Old Testament as these books contain heretical statements. Also, forcing someone to burn something he believes to be true would force them to sin. They would be acting against their conscious.
It should be noted that church courts had the authority to burn books but could not burn people. This was even after the clergy had lost their monopoly on reading. The church burned books and the secular authorities burned people. Because of this, you could not have people being burned with their books. All the clergy could do to people was hand over relapsed heretics to the secular arm with a plea not to execute them. Quite hypocritical of them, one has to admit. The first time we have unequivocal evidence of a heretic being burned with their books is in 1510. Now the secular authorities are taking the lead in the pursuit of heresy.
(I spoke to Dr. Murray for a little bit after his presentation. I would describe him as some sort of ultimate Platonic version of a kindly elderly English academic.)
(I spoke to Dr. Murray for a little bit after his presentation. I would describe him as some sort of ultimate Platonic version of a kindly elderly English academic.)
International Medieval Congress: Key Note Lectures
Heresies and Rhetorics – John H. Arnold (Birkbeck College, University of London)
In 1261, after two decades of work, Benedict of Alignan’s De Summa Trinitate et Fide Catholica in Decretalibus was completed. This book follows the program set by the Fourth Lateran Council and goes points by point to answer those who go against Catholic doctrine. This book has over two thousand chapters. Some scholars view Benedict as the last gasp of a pre-Aquinas theology. In truth, he was a much more complex figure than he is usually given credit for. He was the Abbot of his monastery and dealt with Albigensians. He traveled to the Holy Land and saw Christian defeat and Christians making deals with Saracens. Benedict may not have been a scholar but he did have direct contact with heretics, Jews and Muslims. Benedict’s work still had a few hundred years of life on it and would influence subsequent generations. He is also useful in thinking about the context of heresy.
In the last two decades the study of heresy has taken a certain turn to viewing heresy as a construction of orthodoxy. There is a tendency to see the opposition to heresy as something uniform as if every preacher was preaching from the same hymn sheet. We note shared language and shared concepts such as the heresiarch. In truth there were differences in orthodox responses. There were those who saw heresy as a single monster with many heads united in its attempt to destroy the one true church. Others argued that heresies were many as opposed to a one unified church. To assume the uniformity of orthodoxy is to hand it the power that it sought.
Benedict does not use very colorful language. He has a few moments of insult. For example, he claims that Cathars got their name from kissing the anuses of cats. He follows the structure of the creed rather than going point by point to respond to heretics. It is not framed as a polemic or as a debate. He writes out of a need to convince the unfaithful, including Jews and Muslims, but particularly to strengthen the faithful. Like Augustine, Benedict seeks to refute all heresy as a group. He even goes after pre-Christian philosophers.
Bernard of Clairvaux and Guibert of Nogent are examples of responses to heresy that are insult over substance. Inquisitor texts, such as the work of Bernard of Gui, are far more technical. The inquisitor manual is meant for other inquisitors and emphasizes the inquisitor’s knowledge of heresy. This, ironically enough, brings the heretic into the same realm as the orthodox. Unwillingly, these texts acknowledge that heretics are thinking individuals with arguments that are not easily refutable. Benedict’s work is similar.
By the thirteenth century, there is no longer an assumption of orthodox triumph. Even the quotation of orthodox interpretation of scripture does not always bring victory. As an example, we have a story where a group of Dominican priests only win when the heretics are challenged to make the sign of the cross but are miraculously unable. Benedict, himself, notes that many people are not interested in reading a book as long as his.
(Dr. Arnold is the author of Belief and Unbelief in Medieval Europe.)
Between Christian and Jew: Orthodoxy, Violence, and Living Together in Medieval England – Jeffrey J. Cohen (George Washington University)
Gerald of Wales is a good place to go for almost any type of medieval stories. He has miracle stories dealing with Jews in which the Jew serves as the defeated monster. He tells the story of a Jew who doubts the miracles of a saint in Oxford, St. Frideswide. The young Jew comes to a procession of the saint with his hands tied, pretending to be crippled. If feminists like to talk about gender insubordination, this can be viewed as dogma insubordination. The youth, in the end, commits suicide. His parents try to cover up what happened, but the story gets out. The Jew is important for orthodoxy because he is a living heretic. The Jew says things that Christians can only think. To be clear, real Jews did mock Jesus and call him the hanged one, and challenged the virginity of Mary. The Jew of Unbelief, though, is a stock character to go with the other types of Jewish literary constructs.
To throw some other texts for consideration; there is Matthew Paris’ account of little Hugh of Lincoln, who is tortured in a manner similar to Christ. Hugh is important because he is one of the few martyr cults of Jewish victims that lasted more than a century and attracted royal patronage. Matthew of Paris is a story of supersessionism where the Jews are a living anachronism. John Mandeville refuses to condemn the foreign people he comes in contact with, even promiscuous, nudist, communist cannibals. John, though, does attack Jews. According to Mandeville, the Ten Lost Tribes are trapped in the mountains by Alexander. They have a prophecy that they will escape in the time of Antichrist. Jews learn Hebrew so that the Ten Lost Tribes will recognize them and not kill them along with their Christian neighbors. (For more on this legend see Andrew Gow’s Red Jews.)
Did the real life Jewish and Christian interactions go beyond the static constructions of works such as Gerald of Wales? If we look closely, anti-Semitic texts unwittingly reveal a world of interaction that goes beyond this static relationship. What other possibilities do these stories give us besides for the lachrymose narrative denounced by Salo Baron.
Christians and Jews shared urban spaces. Hugh of Lincoln is a story in which Jewish and Christian children play together and where Christians entered Jewish homes. What kinds of games did these children play? There is a line, in Paris’ account to suggest that Christians might have had pity on Jews. It should be noted that Jews were important to the economy and Christians were dependent upon them. For example, Aaron of Lincoln in the twelfth century was one of the richest people in England. Mandeville can be seen not just as a warrant for genocide but an example of Christian awareness of Jewish discontent.
In 1261, after two decades of work, Benedict of Alignan’s De Summa Trinitate et Fide Catholica in Decretalibus was completed. This book follows the program set by the Fourth Lateran Council and goes points by point to answer those who go against Catholic doctrine. This book has over two thousand chapters. Some scholars view Benedict as the last gasp of a pre-Aquinas theology. In truth, he was a much more complex figure than he is usually given credit for. He was the Abbot of his monastery and dealt with Albigensians. He traveled to the Holy Land and saw Christian defeat and Christians making deals with Saracens. Benedict may not have been a scholar but he did have direct contact with heretics, Jews and Muslims. Benedict’s work still had a few hundred years of life on it and would influence subsequent generations. He is also useful in thinking about the context of heresy.
In the last two decades the study of heresy has taken a certain turn to viewing heresy as a construction of orthodoxy. There is a tendency to see the opposition to heresy as something uniform as if every preacher was preaching from the same hymn sheet. We note shared language and shared concepts such as the heresiarch. In truth there were differences in orthodox responses. There were those who saw heresy as a single monster with many heads united in its attempt to destroy the one true church. Others argued that heresies were many as opposed to a one unified church. To assume the uniformity of orthodoxy is to hand it the power that it sought.
Benedict does not use very colorful language. He has a few moments of insult. For example, he claims that Cathars got their name from kissing the anuses of cats. He follows the structure of the creed rather than going point by point to respond to heretics. It is not framed as a polemic or as a debate. He writes out of a need to convince the unfaithful, including Jews and Muslims, but particularly to strengthen the faithful. Like Augustine, Benedict seeks to refute all heresy as a group. He even goes after pre-Christian philosophers.
Bernard of Clairvaux and Guibert of Nogent are examples of responses to heresy that are insult over substance. Inquisitor texts, such as the work of Bernard of Gui, are far more technical. The inquisitor manual is meant for other inquisitors and emphasizes the inquisitor’s knowledge of heresy. This, ironically enough, brings the heretic into the same realm as the orthodox. Unwillingly, these texts acknowledge that heretics are thinking individuals with arguments that are not easily refutable. Benedict’s work is similar.
By the thirteenth century, there is no longer an assumption of orthodox triumph. Even the quotation of orthodox interpretation of scripture does not always bring victory. As an example, we have a story where a group of Dominican priests only win when the heretics are challenged to make the sign of the cross but are miraculously unable. Benedict, himself, notes that many people are not interested in reading a book as long as his.
(Dr. Arnold is the author of Belief and Unbelief in Medieval Europe.)
Between Christian and Jew: Orthodoxy, Violence, and Living Together in Medieval England – Jeffrey J. Cohen (George Washington University)
Gerald of Wales is a good place to go for almost any type of medieval stories. He has miracle stories dealing with Jews in which the Jew serves as the defeated monster. He tells the story of a Jew who doubts the miracles of a saint in Oxford, St. Frideswide. The young Jew comes to a procession of the saint with his hands tied, pretending to be crippled. If feminists like to talk about gender insubordination, this can be viewed as dogma insubordination. The youth, in the end, commits suicide. His parents try to cover up what happened, but the story gets out. The Jew is important for orthodoxy because he is a living heretic. The Jew says things that Christians can only think. To be clear, real Jews did mock Jesus and call him the hanged one, and challenged the virginity of Mary. The Jew of Unbelief, though, is a stock character to go with the other types of Jewish literary constructs.
To throw some other texts for consideration; there is Matthew Paris’ account of little Hugh of Lincoln, who is tortured in a manner similar to Christ. Hugh is important because he is one of the few martyr cults of Jewish victims that lasted more than a century and attracted royal patronage. Matthew of Paris is a story of supersessionism where the Jews are a living anachronism. John Mandeville refuses to condemn the foreign people he comes in contact with, even promiscuous, nudist, communist cannibals. John, though, does attack Jews. According to Mandeville, the Ten Lost Tribes are trapped in the mountains by Alexander. They have a prophecy that they will escape in the time of Antichrist. Jews learn Hebrew so that the Ten Lost Tribes will recognize them and not kill them along with their Christian neighbors. (For more on this legend see Andrew Gow’s Red Jews.)
Did the real life Jewish and Christian interactions go beyond the static constructions of works such as Gerald of Wales? If we look closely, anti-Semitic texts unwittingly reveal a world of interaction that goes beyond this static relationship. What other possibilities do these stories give us besides for the lachrymose narrative denounced by Salo Baron.
Christians and Jews shared urban spaces. Hugh of Lincoln is a story in which Jewish and Christian children play together and where Christians entered Jewish homes. What kinds of games did these children play? There is a line, in Paris’ account to suggest that Christians might have had pity on Jews. It should be noted that Jews were important to the economy and Christians were dependent upon them. For example, Aaron of Lincoln in the twelfth century was one of the richest people in England. Mandeville can be seen not just as a warrant for genocide but an example of Christian awareness of Jewish discontent.
Monday, July 13, 2009
International Medieval Congress: Rhiannon
Here I am at the International Medieval Congress in Leeds. There are over one thousand medievalists packed in here on the complex surrounding Bodington Hall on the north side of the University of Leeds. The conference is dedicating to the theme of heresy and orthodoxy. So far there seems to be minimal causalities and no one has been burned at the stake or hacked to pieces in a religious crusade yet. While I wait for things to get interesting, I will be reporting on the sessions and the various presentations, including one given by me.
Sunday evening, after I had settled down in my room and before the conference began in earnest, I attended a telling of Rhiannon by Katy Cawkwell. Rhiannon is based on several stories from the Mabinogion, a collection Celtic myths. I am most familiar with the Mabinogion through the lens of Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain Chronicles, a wonderful series of children’s books, particularly useful for preparing children to read and appreciate Tolkien. The story of Rhiannon goes as follows:
Pwyll, king of Dyfed, stands upon a hill in his kingdom upon which it is said that such an action will bring either blessing or curse. Pwyll challenge to fate leads him to rescue Rhiannon, a beautiful woman from the other world, from having to marry the Grey Lord, a man of stone with no heart. As the two lovers leave, the Grey Lord curses them and promises to have his revenge. For many years Pwyll and Rhiannon do not have any children until, on the advice of a man named Manawydan, Pwyll catches a silver fish and gives it to his wife to eat. Rhiannon and Pwyll have a child, but this child is stolen from the sleeping arms of his mother right under the watchful eye of six midwives. In order to save themselves the midwives accuse Rhiannon of having eaten her own baby. To make this work they slaughter a puppy, smear the blood on Rhiannon's face and scatter the pieces of the body around the bed. (I do love it when fairy tales turn really gory.)As a punishment, Rhiannon is forced to wear a bridle and a saddle and wait at the city gate. She is to tell all strangers of her crime and offer to let them ride her. This goes on for some time until a farmer and his wife come, bringing a small child with them. The child was named Gwri and his parents told the remarkable story of how he had come to them on an arm shaped cloud. It is confirmed that the child was truly the one lost to Pwyll and Rhiannon, who is released from her torment. The family is thus reunited, but not for long.
Pwyll and Rhiannon call their son Pryderi and the lad grows. Unfortunately he is forced into manhood sooner than expected when his father is killed by a giant white boar with red tipped ears. Pryderi becomes king of Dyfed. He takes for himself a woman named Cigfa, but is called to war with the rest of the kings of Britain against Ireland. After many years Pryderi comes home with a companion, who had become like a father to him. Upon seeing him, Rhiannon realizes that this man is Manawydan. There is peace for a time until Pryderi resolves himself to imitate his father and go to the hill to risk either blessing or curse. Unable to stop him, Rhiannon, Cigfa and Manawydan join him on the hill. When they look out they see that the entire kingdom has been desolated. With Manawydan’s guidance they manage to survive, first in the woods and then by traveling from town to town. Their luck changes again for the worst when Pryderi chases a giant white boar with red tipped ears into a tower where he is magically ensnared. Rhiannon follows after her son to try to rescue him but is also caught. The tower disappears leaving Cigfa and Manawydan alone. In an attempt to free their companions, Cigfa and Manawydan resolve to replant the kingdom of Dyfed. If the land will grow again perhaps the king will spring up with it. They plant three fields but these fields are attacked by an army of white mice with red tipped ears. Manawydan catches one of the mice, who is pregnant. Resolved to do justice, Manawydan sets out to hang this mouse. A man approaches Manawydan and begs him not to kill the mouse, even offering him gold. When Manawydan refuses the man reveals himself as the Grey Lord and confesses all the harm that he has done to Rhiannon and those close to her ever since she left him, from kidnapping Pryderi as a baby to changing his people into mice to attack the fields. The pregnant mouse is the Grey Lord’s woman and she is carrying his child. Manawydan agrees to give up the mouse in exchange for Rhiannon and Pryderi.
Calling what Ms. Cawkwell does storytelling fails to do her justice. She offers a full play, of her creation, in which she performs the role of narrator and all characters. Ms. Cawkwell’s performance has a remarkable lyrical quality to it, at times one can almost think that she was singing. After the performance Ms. Cawkwell thanked the audience and remarked that this was the first time she ever performed at an academic setting in front of people, many of whom are familiar with the Mabinogion. The post modernist in me notes that the tone of her storytelling takes on the mode of modernist commentary and satire with its strong sense of tongue and cheek. All in all, a truly remarkable performance.
Sunday evening, after I had settled down in my room and before the conference began in earnest, I attended a telling of Rhiannon by Katy Cawkwell. Rhiannon is based on several stories from the Mabinogion, a collection Celtic myths. I am most familiar with the Mabinogion through the lens of Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain Chronicles, a wonderful series of children’s books, particularly useful for preparing children to read and appreciate Tolkien. The story of Rhiannon goes as follows:
Pwyll, king of Dyfed, stands upon a hill in his kingdom upon which it is said that such an action will bring either blessing or curse. Pwyll challenge to fate leads him to rescue Rhiannon, a beautiful woman from the other world, from having to marry the Grey Lord, a man of stone with no heart. As the two lovers leave, the Grey Lord curses them and promises to have his revenge. For many years Pwyll and Rhiannon do not have any children until, on the advice of a man named Manawydan, Pwyll catches a silver fish and gives it to his wife to eat. Rhiannon and Pwyll have a child, but this child is stolen from the sleeping arms of his mother right under the watchful eye of six midwives. In order to save themselves the midwives accuse Rhiannon of having eaten her own baby. To make this work they slaughter a puppy, smear the blood on Rhiannon's face and scatter the pieces of the body around the bed. (I do love it when fairy tales turn really gory.)As a punishment, Rhiannon is forced to wear a bridle and a saddle and wait at the city gate. She is to tell all strangers of her crime and offer to let them ride her. This goes on for some time until a farmer and his wife come, bringing a small child with them. The child was named Gwri and his parents told the remarkable story of how he had come to them on an arm shaped cloud. It is confirmed that the child was truly the one lost to Pwyll and Rhiannon, who is released from her torment. The family is thus reunited, but not for long.
Pwyll and Rhiannon call their son Pryderi and the lad grows. Unfortunately he is forced into manhood sooner than expected when his father is killed by a giant white boar with red tipped ears. Pryderi becomes king of Dyfed. He takes for himself a woman named Cigfa, but is called to war with the rest of the kings of Britain against Ireland. After many years Pryderi comes home with a companion, who had become like a father to him. Upon seeing him, Rhiannon realizes that this man is Manawydan. There is peace for a time until Pryderi resolves himself to imitate his father and go to the hill to risk either blessing or curse. Unable to stop him, Rhiannon, Cigfa and Manawydan join him on the hill. When they look out they see that the entire kingdom has been desolated. With Manawydan’s guidance they manage to survive, first in the woods and then by traveling from town to town. Their luck changes again for the worst when Pryderi chases a giant white boar with red tipped ears into a tower where he is magically ensnared. Rhiannon follows after her son to try to rescue him but is also caught. The tower disappears leaving Cigfa and Manawydan alone. In an attempt to free their companions, Cigfa and Manawydan resolve to replant the kingdom of Dyfed. If the land will grow again perhaps the king will spring up with it. They plant three fields but these fields are attacked by an army of white mice with red tipped ears. Manawydan catches one of the mice, who is pregnant. Resolved to do justice, Manawydan sets out to hang this mouse. A man approaches Manawydan and begs him not to kill the mouse, even offering him gold. When Manawydan refuses the man reveals himself as the Grey Lord and confesses all the harm that he has done to Rhiannon and those close to her ever since she left him, from kidnapping Pryderi as a baby to changing his people into mice to attack the fields. The pregnant mouse is the Grey Lord’s woman and she is carrying his child. Manawydan agrees to give up the mouse in exchange for Rhiannon and Pryderi.
Calling what Ms. Cawkwell does storytelling fails to do her justice. She offers a full play, of her creation, in which she performs the role of narrator and all characters. Ms. Cawkwell’s performance has a remarkable lyrical quality to it, at times one can almost think that she was singing. After the performance Ms. Cawkwell thanked the audience and remarked that this was the first time she ever performed at an academic setting in front of people, many of whom are familiar with the Mabinogion. The post modernist in me notes that the tone of her storytelling takes on the mode of modernist commentary and satire with its strong sense of tongue and cheek. All in all, a truly remarkable performance.
Friday, July 10, 2009
At the Pub with C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien
For me, no stay at Oxford would be complete without a visit to the famous Eagle and Child pub where C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien and the other members of the Inklings used to meet.
I guess the sign is not in keeping with rabbinic thinking. According to Rashi and the Midrash, the great virtue of the eagle is that it carries the young on its back in order to shield them from men’s arrows.
I guess the sign is not in keeping with rabbinic thinking. According to Rashi and the Midrash, the great virtue of the eagle is that it carries the young on its back in order to shield them from men’s arrows.
I went inside and had a pint of some of the local stuff. To quote Pippin in the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings film, but not the original novel: “it comes in pints?” You can tell that the stuff was good because I drank all of it. This the first time in my life that I have ever drunk a full pint of beer. I think Lewis would be proud of me. I am not much of a beer drinker, but I have recently been getting into it. I am now the sort of person who will go through a bottle over the course of watching a game. In the back of me is a letter from the year 1948 drinking to the health of the proprietor of the establishment. The letter is signed by several people among them are C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Christopher Tolkien, who was then an undergraduate student at Oxford.
Later, I was helping out at the Chabad house when I mentioned Lewis to Mrs. Freida Brackman. She responded that she taught Lewis’ grandchildren. I response was: “so you know David Gresham.” Lewis late in life, married an American divorcee named Joy Davidman. She was an ex-Communist, who had converted to Christianity. Joy was originally from a secular Jewish family. Joy had two children, David, and Douglas Gresham. (Lewis actually dedicated the Horse and His Boy to the two of them.) Joy died of cancer leaving the two children with Lewis. As a teenager, David Gresham became an Orthodox Jew. Interestingly enough, Lewis actually paid for David’s Yeshiva education. According to Mrs. Brackman, David and his wife are extremely eccentric. I would certainly love to meet them. Judging from the fact that there is little information available about David on the web, I assume that he is a very private person, who likes to avoid the public spotlight.
Later, I was helping out at the Chabad house when I mentioned Lewis to Mrs. Freida Brackman. She responded that she taught Lewis’ grandchildren. I response was: “so you know David Gresham.” Lewis late in life, married an American divorcee named Joy Davidman. She was an ex-Communist, who had converted to Christianity. Joy was originally from a secular Jewish family. Joy had two children, David, and Douglas Gresham. (Lewis actually dedicated the Horse and His Boy to the two of them.) Joy died of cancer leaving the two children with Lewis. As a teenager, David Gresham became an Orthodox Jew. Interestingly enough, Lewis actually paid for David’s Yeshiva education. According to Mrs. Brackman, David and his wife are extremely eccentric. I would certainly love to meet them. Judging from the fact that there is little information available about David on the web, I assume that he is a very private person, who likes to avoid the public spotlight.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Oxford Martyrs (The Catholic Version)
The X marks the spot where they used to burn people at the stake. I cannot think of any American Universities were people have ever been put to the stake for coming out on the wrong side of an academic debate; they are just denied tenure.I visited a Dominican monastery here in Oxford. I feel a certain kinship to the Dominicans ever since I took a Facebook quiz and found out that the Dominicans are the monastic order I am best suited for. (The quiz was a big hit around the department. There may not be many religious Catholics, besides for one person who is in fact a Dominican priest, but there are many medievalists and early modernists with backgrounds in church politics. Most of us ended up as Dominicans. I guess it has something to do with our bookish sensibilities. My Mormon friend, Logan Smith, came out a Franciscan, but he answered the questions with that intent since he studies them.)
I found a pamphlet at the monastery titled “Catholic Martyrs of Oxford.”For those unfamiliar with English History, the Oxford Martyrs refers to a group of leading Anglican figures burnt at the stake under the reign of the Catholic Mary I (r. 1553-58).
As the pamphlet notes: Oxford’s most famous martyrs are the bishops Hugh Latimer, Nicholas Ridley and Thomas Cranmer, who died courageously for their Protestant faith by being burnt to death, ironically the same method they themselves had approved of (when they still enjoyed the Crown’s favour) for dealing with stubborn Catholics and other heretics.
The pamphlet goes on to point out that five Catholic martyrs were executed in Oxford and proceeds to give their stories. Four of them, Thomas Belson, George Nichols, Humphrey Pritchard, and Richard Yaxley, were captured at St. Giles Inn and were hanged on July 5, 1589. Nichols and Yaxley, being priests, were drawn and quartered as well. The fifth martyr was George Napper, a priest, who was hanged, drawn and quartered on November 9, 1610. I guess it helps if your side has a Foxe’s Book of Martyrs with its pretty pictures.
A simple pamphlet is just not going to compete.
I find it interesting that this Catholic pamphlet, in a sense, acknowledges the martyrdom of Latimer, Ridley, and Cranmer as something admirable. I guess in this modern world one has to be more ecumenical even when discussing this most unecumenical act. Let us face it; either these Protestants were servants of the Devil or their Catholic executioners were murderers. There is not a whole lot of wiggle room here.
The funny thing about the persecution of Catholics during the reigns of Elizabeth I and James I was that “technically” it was legal to be a Catholic as long as you acknowledged the supremacy of the monarch as the head of the English Church and not the pope, were not a Catholic priest, did not aid or abate any Catholic priests and did not take part in any Catholic masses. The penalty for any of these things was death. So one could not actually be a Catholic. During the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, approximately two hundred Catholic priests and laymen were executed. Their crime was not heresy, but treason. It was treason to believe that the pope was the proper head of the Church and to take part in a Catholic mass. One of the interesting implications of this was that, since these people were not being executed as Catholics and because technically speaking being a Catholic was not a crime, many of these Catholic martyrs, when given the chance to speak their last words, gave very Catholic sermons and no one could stop them.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God (Sort of): One Converso’s View of Jesus
Last year I did a series of posts on Jewish views on Jesus. Here, in an article by David Graizbord, is a view of Jesus, by an early seventeenth century converso, liable to perplex both Jews and Christians. Espiritu Santo was born a Jew in Marrakesh but converted first to Islam and then to Christianity. He was living in Spain when the Inquisition picked him up on charges of sorcery, crypto-Islam and crypto-Judaism. According to Espiritu Santo:
… the one who had come [namely, Jesus] was [a Messiah] of the tribe of Joseph; and that the messiah of the tribe of David [sic] had yet to come, and that he [the defendant] would go to heaven [if he was burned], and that when Jesus [sic] came to judge the living and the dead, the first he would absolve would be the Jews, because Christ is the son of God, and he is below the Father at [the Father’s] right hand, and that only the Father is a true God, because even though there is a Father, a Son, and a Holy Spirit, only one God shall judge – and that is the Father. The Son is [merely] a prophet [of God], as when a master sends his servant; and the old Law of Moses is written and adorned with diamonds … and it is written by the hand of God, adonai, God of Israel … and that in the Law of Jesus Christ there are many images, and that, there not being more than one true God, he did not believe in the [images], neither in the crosses, and that he [the defendant] was a Jew, of the stock of Aaron the priest, and that [earlier] when God had inspired him to turn to the holy Catholic faith, the reason that he had converted to it was that he understood that it and the Law of Moses were one; but afterwards, having recognized that they are opposed, he wished to keep the Law of Moses … because there is no more than one God, who is a pearl and a diamond that cannot be cut.
(David Graizbord “Historical Contextualization of Sephardi Apostates and Self Styled Missionaries of the Seventeenth Century.” Jewish History 19(2005): pg. 300.)
So here we have a Jew who believed that Jesus was a messiah, just not the Messiah, and that he was part of a Trinity, though an Arian Trinity. He believed that Jesus came to save people from sin just not the same sorts of sins that the inquisitors had in mind. He converted to Christianity even though he still believed in Mosaic Law and was prepared to die for that belief. So where does this Espiritu Santo fit in?
… the one who had come [namely, Jesus] was [a Messiah] of the tribe of Joseph; and that the messiah of the tribe of David [sic] had yet to come, and that he [the defendant] would go to heaven [if he was burned], and that when Jesus [sic] came to judge the living and the dead, the first he would absolve would be the Jews, because Christ is the son of God, and he is below the Father at [the Father’s] right hand, and that only the Father is a true God, because even though there is a Father, a Son, and a Holy Spirit, only one God shall judge – and that is the Father. The Son is [merely] a prophet [of God], as when a master sends his servant; and the old Law of Moses is written and adorned with diamonds … and it is written by the hand of God, adonai, God of Israel … and that in the Law of Jesus Christ there are many images, and that, there not being more than one true God, he did not believe in the [images], neither in the crosses, and that he [the defendant] was a Jew, of the stock of Aaron the priest, and that [earlier] when God had inspired him to turn to the holy Catholic faith, the reason that he had converted to it was that he understood that it and the Law of Moses were one; but afterwards, having recognized that they are opposed, he wished to keep the Law of Moses … because there is no more than one God, who is a pearl and a diamond that cannot be cut.
(David Graizbord “Historical Contextualization of Sephardi Apostates and Self Styled Missionaries of the Seventeenth Century.” Jewish History 19(2005): pg. 300.)
So here we have a Jew who believed that Jesus was a messiah, just not the Messiah, and that he was part of a Trinity, though an Arian Trinity. He believed that Jesus came to save people from sin just not the same sorts of sins that the inquisitors had in mind. He converted to Christianity even though he still believed in Mosaic Law and was prepared to die for that belief. So where does this Espiritu Santo fit in?
Inquisitor Teddy Bears, Walking with C. S. Lewis and an English German Church Service
For Sunday I was planning on spending the day in London. I ended up changing those plans when I was invited to help out at a Teddy Bear carnival. This project is the brainchild of a local shop owner named Erica, who runs the Bead Games store.
It was great fun stringing the bears up and tying them up to the pyramids. I thought of it as sentencing them to be hung and burned alive at an auto-da-fe. For the horrible crimes you have committed against law and order, you bear are to hang by the neck until death. May God have mercy on your soul. And you bear are charged with heresy on three counts - heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action (oh four counts).
In the afternoon I toured Magdalene College, where C. S. Lewis taught. Behind the campus, there is a beautiful path called Addison’s walk, which Lewis frequented. (Anyone who has read Lewis understands the important role of nature walks in his thinking.) There is a plaque in memory of Lewis along the way. It is hard to see the writing from more than a few feet away so I actually had quite a difficult time finding it.
On the plaque is a poem of Lewis’:
What the Bird Said Early in the Year
I heard in Addison’s Walk a bird sing clear:
I went over to the pastor, a blonde haired woman in formal clerical garb, afterwards and asked her about this congregation; I figured there had to be a good story behind this. It turns out that this congregation was founded right before the start of World War II by German refugees. So I guess this German church service in middle of England does work well with World War II. The congregation today is mostly made up of Germans, living in Oxford. I pointed out to her that if we go even further back we see Martin Bucer, a member of Martin Luther’s circle, coming over to England to help with the English Reformation.
Despite the fact that this is a German congregation, they gathered afterwards for tea. I guess certain aspects of English culture are inescapable. Interestingly enough, when I told this whole story over to one of the people staying along with me at Yarnton, who is German, he told me that in Berlin there is an Anglican congregation that holds services in English. I wonder about these Anglicans. After services, do they gather around for beer and knockwurst?
The view on top of St. Mary’s is just breathtaking.
To reach the top one has to go up this really narrow winding staircase. Climbing up took enough effort to have me contemplating what a useful answer this tower would serve for that most foundational question in democracy: "where would you place a machine gun?" As an American, the version I traditionally use ends with "in case King George III comes marching down the street." I guess that would not work in England. Since this is an Anglican church, maybe it can be "in case the Pope comes down the street."
On the way down I noticed that they had a sign up for John Henry Newman’s office. (At this point I should point out how grateful I am to Rabbi Shalom Carmy for introducing me to the writings of this nineteenth-century Christian thinker.) I wonder whether the sign is for the pre-Catholic Anglican Newman or for after he converted to Catholicism and became Cardinal John Henry Newman. I find his reasoning for converting quite relevant to contemporary religious thought. He argued that, in a growingly secular environment, the Church would increasingly find itself under pressure to make compromises to make itself presentable to modern society. The only thing that could stand in the way of this was a strong church structure and hierarchy. As Newman saw it, the Catholic Church was the only Church that could do that. I assume the sign is for the Anglican Newman, who used to preach here. I greatly admire those who kept the sign. If these were Haredim there would be a full denial that someone like Newman, who converted out of the faith, ever was associated with this place.
If a movie is ever made of Asael, this church would be great for staging a fight scene. I am thinking something for the later books, once you get characters that are immune to standard weapons running at each other with sharp pointed objects that are not of this world. (Paleface, from the prologue, being one of these people) They can go up the stairway, to the ledge and crash over the ledge to the rooftops of the lower buildings.
The idea is that people donate old Teddy Bears, ranging from pocket-size to gigantic, and she hosts an outdoor tea-party where she sells the bears and the proceeds go to charity.
It was great fun stringing the bears up and tying them up to the pyramids. I thought of it as sentencing them to be hung and burned alive at an auto-da-fe. For the horrible crimes you have committed against law and order, you bear are to hang by the neck until death. May God have mercy on your soul. And you bear are charged with heresy on three counts - heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action (oh four counts).In the afternoon I toured Magdalene College, where C. S. Lewis taught. Behind the campus, there is a beautiful path called Addison’s walk, which Lewis frequented. (Anyone who has read Lewis understands the important role of nature walks in his thinking.) There is a plaque in memory of Lewis along the way. It is hard to see the writing from more than a few feet away so I actually had quite a difficult time finding it.
On the plaque is a poem of Lewis’:
What the Bird Said Early in the Year
I heard in Addison’s Walk a bird sing clear:
This year the summer will come true. This year. This year.
Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
This year nor want of rain destroy the peas.
This year time’s nature will no more defeat you.
This year time’s nature will no more defeat you.
Nor all the promised moments in their passing cheat you.
This time they will not lead you round and back
This time they will not lead you round and back
To Autumn, one year older, by the well worn track.
This year, this year, as all these flowers foretell
This year, this year, as all these flowers foretell
We shall escape the circle and undo the spell.
Often deceived, yet open once again your heart
Often deceived, yet open once again your heart
Quick, quick, quick, quick! – the gates are drawn apart.
After spending some time with Lewis, I went over to the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, a magnificent Cathedral right next door to the Bodleian library. Seeing that a service was in progress in one of the side chapels, I went in and sat down, hoping to experience a traditional English church service. There was an old lady sitting next to me and she kindly showed me where they were up to in her hymnal. I looked down at the page and then perked my ears to the singing; they were singing a German hymn. As it turns out this was not an exercise in multiculturalism. This was a German Lutheran congregation and the entire service, with the exception of a few points where they stopped to translate, was in German. At Magdalene, I had just walked past the commemoration wall where they had the names of students who died during World War I and World War II. Lewis himself fought in France during World War I and did a famous series of broadcasts, which became the basis for his Mere Christianity, during World War II. I am sure some of my Haredi relatives are reading this and are hoping that I pick up on a Nazi connection here take this as a message from above that I should not be in a church anymore than I should be at a Nazi rally. I was strongly reminded of the book Aryan Jesus, which dealt with Christianity in Germany under the Nazis. There is a part of the book that deals with efforts to change church hymns to better fit Nazi ideology.
After spending some time with Lewis, I went over to the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, a magnificent Cathedral right next door to the Bodleian library. Seeing that a service was in progress in one of the side chapels, I went in and sat down, hoping to experience a traditional English church service. There was an old lady sitting next to me and she kindly showed me where they were up to in her hymnal. I looked down at the page and then perked my ears to the singing; they were singing a German hymn. As it turns out this was not an exercise in multiculturalism. This was a German Lutheran congregation and the entire service, with the exception of a few points where they stopped to translate, was in German. At Magdalene, I had just walked past the commemoration wall where they had the names of students who died during World War I and World War II. Lewis himself fought in France during World War I and did a famous series of broadcasts, which became the basis for his Mere Christianity, during World War II. I am sure some of my Haredi relatives are reading this and are hoping that I pick up on a Nazi connection here take this as a message from above that I should not be in a church anymore than I should be at a Nazi rally. I was strongly reminded of the book Aryan Jesus, which dealt with Christianity in Germany under the Nazis. There is a part of the book that deals with efforts to change church hymns to better fit Nazi ideology.
I went over to the pastor, a blonde haired woman in formal clerical garb, afterwards and asked her about this congregation; I figured there had to be a good story behind this. It turns out that this congregation was founded right before the start of World War II by German refugees. So I guess this German church service in middle of England does work well with World War II. The congregation today is mostly made up of Germans, living in Oxford. I pointed out to her that if we go even further back we see Martin Bucer, a member of Martin Luther’s circle, coming over to England to help with the English Reformation.
Despite the fact that this is a German congregation, they gathered afterwards for tea. I guess certain aspects of English culture are inescapable. Interestingly enough, when I told this whole story over to one of the people staying along with me at Yarnton, who is German, he told me that in Berlin there is an Anglican congregation that holds services in English. I wonder about these Anglicans. After services, do they gather around for beer and knockwurst?
The view on top of St. Mary’s is just breathtaking.
To reach the top one has to go up this really narrow winding staircase. Climbing up took enough effort to have me contemplating what a useful answer this tower would serve for that most foundational question in democracy: "where would you place a machine gun?" As an American, the version I traditionally use ends with "in case King George III comes marching down the street." I guess that would not work in England. Since this is an Anglican church, maybe it can be "in case the Pope comes down the street."
On the way down I noticed that they had a sign up for John Henry Newman’s office. (At this point I should point out how grateful I am to Rabbi Shalom Carmy for introducing me to the writings of this nineteenth-century Christian thinker.) I wonder whether the sign is for the pre-Catholic Anglican Newman or for after he converted to Catholicism and became Cardinal John Henry Newman. I find his reasoning for converting quite relevant to contemporary religious thought. He argued that, in a growingly secular environment, the Church would increasingly find itself under pressure to make compromises to make itself presentable to modern society. The only thing that could stand in the way of this was a strong church structure and hierarchy. As Newman saw it, the Catholic Church was the only Church that could do that. I assume the sign is for the Anglican Newman, who used to preach here. I greatly admire those who kept the sign. If these were Haredim there would be a full denial that someone like Newman, who converted out of the faith, ever was associated with this place.
If a movie is ever made of Asael, this church would be great for staging a fight scene. I am thinking something for the later books, once you get characters that are immune to standard weapons running at each other with sharp pointed objects that are not of this world. (Paleface, from the prologue, being one of these people) They can go up the stairway, to the ledge and crash over the ledge to the rooftops of the lower buildings.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Shabbos at the Oxford Chabad
I spent Shabbos at the Chabad at Oxford and was hosted by Rabbi Eli Brackman. Since I regularly go to the Chabad at Ohio State, I figured that it would make for a fun comparison. Small Jewish world, Rabbi Brackman knows Rabbi Zalman Deitsch of Ohio State. (I wonder if they are, even now, exchanging notes on me. “So who exactly is this Chinn guy and what is his deal?”) There was a guest speaker, Dr. Aharon Giamani of Bar Ilan University in Israel. Dr. Giamani’s field, which he spoke to us about, is in the history of Yemenite Jewry. I was fortunate to be able to speak to him over Shabbos and I am grateful to him for allowing me to hold the conversation in my rather poor conversational Hebrew.
Due to a conversation about Jewish philosophy with one of the Chabad people about, I was presented with the tenth chapter Sha'ar ha-Yichud ve'ha'Emunah in the Tanya, the foundational text of Chabad thought. The essential point of this chapter is that God is one with the sephirot. The analogy used is that of the relationship between the sun and the rays of light it gives off. This may be the medievalist in me, but when I hear the analogy of the unity of the sun and sunlight I think of the classical apology for the Trinity that uses this same analogy. I raised this issue with Rabbi Brackman and he was remarkably non-pulsed about it. He agreed that there was a parallel here and that it was probably written like that on purpose. Rabbi Brackman went on to argue that the difference would be that the Tanya does not take any of this literally. Rabbi Brackman went on point out the basic tenant of Chabad theology that God literally includes everything and that individuality is simply an illusion. I had a similar experience with another Lubavitch person a few years ago who, when I asked him what the difference between the Chabad belief that human souls are literally part of God and the Christians doctrine of the Incarnation beyond the fact that Chabad would multiply the problem billions of times over by turning every human being into their own Jesus Christ. My Lubavitch friend responded that he did not know, but that anyway it was not a problem.
If we are going to go with the classical understandings of Jewish thought as found in Saadiah Gaon, the Kuzari, Maimonides and medieval Jewish anti-Christian polemics, the rejection of the Trinity and the Incarnation are critical parts of Judaism. A Judaism in which one cannot give a coherent reason for rejecting the Trinity and the Incarnation is one in which Jews might as well start lining up to the baptismal font. Yet we have Chabad rabbis nonchalantly throwing around arguments that are almost identical. Put it this way, if what Chabad believes about the nature of God and him being one unified entity with the sephirot and all human souls is not heresy then I do not know of any coherent argument against the acceptance of a classical Christian understanding of the Trinity and the Incarnation that will hold water for more than five minutes.
I know people who have or are in middle of converting to Judaism. Last I checked, unless you can give a straightforward NO to the question of whether you believe in the Trinity or the Incarnation with no equivocations or scholastic discourses, you will not be accepted for conversion. This applies equally to the most conservative Satmar court as it does to the Reform movement, making this one of the few things that the entire spectrum of Judaism actually agrees on. Prof. David Berger wishes to argue that Chabad is heresy because of the messianic beliefs held by many in the movement. In truth, it goes much further, into the fundamental doctrines of the movement found in Tanya.
The Lubavitchers that I know, I like and respect for the most part. Considering that I have been living outside of a major Jewish community, dealing with Lubavitch is sort of a practical necessity. I find the implications of Berger’s proposed ban too frightening to seriously consider. That being said, I must admit that it is a real problem.
Shabbos did not end here in the southern part of England until a quarter to eleven at night, so much for doing something on Saturday night. It must strange trying to raise children in such a situation. “Alright kids, go to bed now. Shabbos will be over when you get up in the morning.”
Due to a conversation about Jewish philosophy with one of the Chabad people about, I was presented with the tenth chapter Sha'ar ha-Yichud ve'ha'Emunah in the Tanya, the foundational text of Chabad thought. The essential point of this chapter is that God is one with the sephirot. The analogy used is that of the relationship between the sun and the rays of light it gives off. This may be the medievalist in me, but when I hear the analogy of the unity of the sun and sunlight I think of the classical apology for the Trinity that uses this same analogy. I raised this issue with Rabbi Brackman and he was remarkably non-pulsed about it. He agreed that there was a parallel here and that it was probably written like that on purpose. Rabbi Brackman went on to argue that the difference would be that the Tanya does not take any of this literally. Rabbi Brackman went on point out the basic tenant of Chabad theology that God literally includes everything and that individuality is simply an illusion. I had a similar experience with another Lubavitch person a few years ago who, when I asked him what the difference between the Chabad belief that human souls are literally part of God and the Christians doctrine of the Incarnation beyond the fact that Chabad would multiply the problem billions of times over by turning every human being into their own Jesus Christ. My Lubavitch friend responded that he did not know, but that anyway it was not a problem.
If we are going to go with the classical understandings of Jewish thought as found in Saadiah Gaon, the Kuzari, Maimonides and medieval Jewish anti-Christian polemics, the rejection of the Trinity and the Incarnation are critical parts of Judaism. A Judaism in which one cannot give a coherent reason for rejecting the Trinity and the Incarnation is one in which Jews might as well start lining up to the baptismal font. Yet we have Chabad rabbis nonchalantly throwing around arguments that are almost identical. Put it this way, if what Chabad believes about the nature of God and him being one unified entity with the sephirot and all human souls is not heresy then I do not know of any coherent argument against the acceptance of a classical Christian understanding of the Trinity and the Incarnation that will hold water for more than five minutes.
I know people who have or are in middle of converting to Judaism. Last I checked, unless you can give a straightforward NO to the question of whether you believe in the Trinity or the Incarnation with no equivocations or scholastic discourses, you will not be accepted for conversion. This applies equally to the most conservative Satmar court as it does to the Reform movement, making this one of the few things that the entire spectrum of Judaism actually agrees on. Prof. David Berger wishes to argue that Chabad is heresy because of the messianic beliefs held by many in the movement. In truth, it goes much further, into the fundamental doctrines of the movement found in Tanya.
The Lubavitchers that I know, I like and respect for the most part. Considering that I have been living outside of a major Jewish community, dealing with Lubavitch is sort of a practical necessity. I find the implications of Berger’s proposed ban too frightening to seriously consider. That being said, I must admit that it is a real problem.
Shabbos did not end here in the southern part of England until a quarter to eleven at night, so much for doing something on Saturday night. It must strange trying to raise children in such a situation. “Alright kids, go to bed now. Shabbos will be over when you get up in the morning.”
Sunday, July 5, 2009
My Censored Comment at Cross Currents
There is a certain honor in being censored, if honestly earned. It is very easy to be offensive and purposefully antagonize people and then claim the status of martyr when shut down; such actions do not count as being censored. What is meaningful is when one says something rather innocuous that still manages to get under people’s skin, causing them to react. This issue enters the blogosphere usually in the form of comments, which are then taken down by the host blogger because of some offense. As the rabbis knew, you can tell a lot about a person when they are drunk, spend money or get angry. What sort of idea can so enrage a person as to cause a reaction, particularly such an extreme reaction as taking a comment down? Granted, there is a time and place for such things. For example, if anyone were to attempt to use my comment section as a sounding board for White Supremacy, I would, once I stopped finding it funny, erase those comments.
Today I take pride at such a feat, earned at the hand of Yaakov Menken of Cross Currents. Menken posted a short piece titled “Creative Mistranslation,” in which he attacked the Jerusalem Post for its article on Haredi Shabbat protesters. Menken’s objection was that the article translated signs that quoted the biblical phrase “Mot Tamot” as “must die” instead of the more common “surely die.” While, to the best of my understanding, the Post’s translation is technically accurate; I agree that they should have used the more charitable translation. As such there are valid grounds for criticizing them. I wrote a comment that went along a slightly different path:
Considering some of the extremists at work, it is not unreasonable that many of them would take the biblical “he shall surely die” as meaning that someone should kill them. This would still be a step away from actual murder. One has to go from saying “in theory it would be right for me to kill someone” to actually doing it, particularly as this would mean going up against the legal system.
As a parallel example, when I see Muslims waving signs saying “death to the enemies of Islam,” I do not assume that they mean that Allah, in his own good time, will cause them to die. Rather they are making the ideological statement that Muslims have the theological right and even the duty to carry out acts of murder against those perceived as enemies of Islam.
I got a very nice email from Menken, saying:
I have to bounce your comment, because to say there are 'extremists' in Me'ah Shearim who believe all non-Orthodox Jews should die (a la the Muslim model) simply defies the reality. It's not what reciting the posuk (verse) means, and not what they intended. These are people who regularly have non-Orthodox Jews, people they've never met before, as guests in their homes for Shabbos meals.
Yours,
Yaakov Menken
Yes Menken has every right to take my comment down; we live in a free country. In my defense, it should be noted that I do not accuse any Haredim of actually engaging in violence. I specifically noted that what I was talking about was “step away from actual murder.” I also did not compare Haredim to terrorists. I compared relatively peaceful Haredi protesters saying potentially dangerous things with relatively peaceful Muslim protesters saying potentially dangerous things. The issue at hand is not some vague “Muslim” model of kill all irreligious people. What is at stake is what, if any, practical role does the fact that the Torah has the death penalty listed for people who break Shabbos play in our world today, particularly in how we deal with Jews who do not keep Shabbos?
I do not know what those protesters, waving the signs, believe or what sort of conversations they are having behind closed doors. The moment you bring in words like “surely die” into play, it raises certain questions. If someone commits a sin carrying the threat that God will cause that person to die, does it mean that the person deserves to die or that it is a good thing that the person dies? If we assume the affirmative than are we allowed to play some sort of role in bringing this about or in allowing it to happen? Is it alright if someone saw a Shabbos desecrator injured in a car crash and left them to bleed to death on the pavement? If you were in a sealed room with a leading promoter of Shabbos desecration, someone who sins and causes others to sin, and you knew that no one would ever find out, could you put a bullet in that person’s head?
These are not simple issues and intelligent people will likely come down on different sides of this issue. (It should be noted that the Torah portion this coming week in Israel, gives me some pretty solid grounds to pull that trigger.) I hope that the Haredim with those signs are having this conversation. If they are not then they are just throwing around empty words. I have utter contempt for people who simply throw around open ended words without considering what they might mean and without having the moral spine to pay the full consequences for those words. I also fear such words, viewing them as ricocheting bullets. It was not that long ago when the National Religious community was burnt by throwing around a term like “Rodef,” someone whose continued existence is a physical threat to others. One of their own took this word to its literal conclusion and murdered a Prime Minister.
I think Menken’s rather peculiar argument at the end is telling. He argues that because many of the people at the protest gladly bring irreligious Jews into their homes for Shabbos, no one at the protest could have intended physical harm to irreligious Jews. Menken repeats this argument in the comments section when responding to someone else, saying:”I don’t need to do a survey, since I know how many of these protesters open their homes on Shabbos to guests they’ve never met, with or without the ability to even speak the same language.”Clearly Menken believes that this is some sort of trump cad argument and it essentially amounts to: “How dare anyone believe that Haredim are capable of violence, even when they clearly do engage in violence. Haredim invite people into their homes so they must all be kind and decent people.” To state the obvious, there can be people who invite irreligious Jews over for Shabbos and fanatics, who believe in violence, at the same rally and even standing side by side. Furthermore, there is no contradiction in the same person believing, in theory, that Jews who break the Shabbos should be killed and the willingness, in practice, to host an individual non Shabbos observing Jew in one’s home. Considering that Muslims have a reputation for hospitality, that they would never harm, even their enemy, while that person is their guest, this defense is ironic.
I am not arguing that Haredim are violent people; I know too many, who are some of the most wonderful people in the world. Some of these people are even relatives of mine. I am not even arguing that anyone at the protest is guilty of violence. What I am suggesting is that, just as “peaceful” “moderate” Muslims cannot play innocent when they throw around words like “death to the enemies of Islam,” we should not play innocent with such words as “surely die.” Words do mean things and, like bombs, they can explode and kill. We should respect ourselves enough not to hide behind petty apologetics.
The fact that Menken found what I said so troubling as to cause him to erase my comment (and then accuse me of saying things that I did not say) says something about him and what sort of line he has drawn as to what is acceptable. For him, that line is anyone who fails to simply engage in Haredi apologetics and dares to attempt to raise the tough questions. It does not matter if that person moderates what they say and is clearly not out to get the Haredi community as a whole. For Menken there is no such thing, anyone who does raise questions is, by definition, out to get Haredim.
Today I take pride at such a feat, earned at the hand of Yaakov Menken of Cross Currents. Menken posted a short piece titled “Creative Mistranslation,” in which he attacked the Jerusalem Post for its article on Haredi Shabbat protesters. Menken’s objection was that the article translated signs that quoted the biblical phrase “Mot Tamot” as “must die” instead of the more common “surely die.” While, to the best of my understanding, the Post’s translation is technically accurate; I agree that they should have used the more charitable translation. As such there are valid grounds for criticizing them. I wrote a comment that went along a slightly different path:
Considering some of the extremists at work, it is not unreasonable that many of them would take the biblical “he shall surely die” as meaning that someone should kill them. This would still be a step away from actual murder. One has to go from saying “in theory it would be right for me to kill someone” to actually doing it, particularly as this would mean going up against the legal system.
As a parallel example, when I see Muslims waving signs saying “death to the enemies of Islam,” I do not assume that they mean that Allah, in his own good time, will cause them to die. Rather they are making the ideological statement that Muslims have the theological right and even the duty to carry out acts of murder against those perceived as enemies of Islam.
I got a very nice email from Menken, saying:
I have to bounce your comment, because to say there are 'extremists' in Me'ah Shearim who believe all non-Orthodox Jews should die (a la the Muslim model) simply defies the reality. It's not what reciting the posuk (verse) means, and not what they intended. These are people who regularly have non-Orthodox Jews, people they've never met before, as guests in their homes for Shabbos meals.
Yours,
Yaakov Menken
Yes Menken has every right to take my comment down; we live in a free country. In my defense, it should be noted that I do not accuse any Haredim of actually engaging in violence. I specifically noted that what I was talking about was “step away from actual murder.” I also did not compare Haredim to terrorists. I compared relatively peaceful Haredi protesters saying potentially dangerous things with relatively peaceful Muslim protesters saying potentially dangerous things. The issue at hand is not some vague “Muslim” model of kill all irreligious people. What is at stake is what, if any, practical role does the fact that the Torah has the death penalty listed for people who break Shabbos play in our world today, particularly in how we deal with Jews who do not keep Shabbos?
I do not know what those protesters, waving the signs, believe or what sort of conversations they are having behind closed doors. The moment you bring in words like “surely die” into play, it raises certain questions. If someone commits a sin carrying the threat that God will cause that person to die, does it mean that the person deserves to die or that it is a good thing that the person dies? If we assume the affirmative than are we allowed to play some sort of role in bringing this about or in allowing it to happen? Is it alright if someone saw a Shabbos desecrator injured in a car crash and left them to bleed to death on the pavement? If you were in a sealed room with a leading promoter of Shabbos desecration, someone who sins and causes others to sin, and you knew that no one would ever find out, could you put a bullet in that person’s head?
These are not simple issues and intelligent people will likely come down on different sides of this issue. (It should be noted that the Torah portion this coming week in Israel, gives me some pretty solid grounds to pull that trigger.) I hope that the Haredim with those signs are having this conversation. If they are not then they are just throwing around empty words. I have utter contempt for people who simply throw around open ended words without considering what they might mean and without having the moral spine to pay the full consequences for those words. I also fear such words, viewing them as ricocheting bullets. It was not that long ago when the National Religious community was burnt by throwing around a term like “Rodef,” someone whose continued existence is a physical threat to others. One of their own took this word to its literal conclusion and murdered a Prime Minister.
I think Menken’s rather peculiar argument at the end is telling. He argues that because many of the people at the protest gladly bring irreligious Jews into their homes for Shabbos, no one at the protest could have intended physical harm to irreligious Jews. Menken repeats this argument in the comments section when responding to someone else, saying:”I don’t need to do a survey, since I know how many of these protesters open their homes on Shabbos to guests they’ve never met, with or without the ability to even speak the same language.”Clearly Menken believes that this is some sort of trump cad argument and it essentially amounts to: “How dare anyone believe that Haredim are capable of violence, even when they clearly do engage in violence. Haredim invite people into their homes so they must all be kind and decent people.” To state the obvious, there can be people who invite irreligious Jews over for Shabbos and fanatics, who believe in violence, at the same rally and even standing side by side. Furthermore, there is no contradiction in the same person believing, in theory, that Jews who break the Shabbos should be killed and the willingness, in practice, to host an individual non Shabbos observing Jew in one’s home. Considering that Muslims have a reputation for hospitality, that they would never harm, even their enemy, while that person is their guest, this defense is ironic.
I am not arguing that Haredim are violent people; I know too many, who are some of the most wonderful people in the world. Some of these people are even relatives of mine. I am not even arguing that anyone at the protest is guilty of violence. What I am suggesting is that, just as “peaceful” “moderate” Muslims cannot play innocent when they throw around words like “death to the enemies of Islam,” we should not play innocent with such words as “surely die.” Words do mean things and, like bombs, they can explode and kill. We should respect ourselves enough not to hide behind petty apologetics.
The fact that Menken found what I said so troubling as to cause him to erase my comment (and then accuse me of saying things that I did not say) says something about him and what sort of line he has drawn as to what is acceptable. For him, that line is anyone who fails to simply engage in Haredi apologetics and dares to attempt to raise the tough questions. It does not matter if that person moderates what they say and is clearly not out to get the Haredi community as a whole. For Menken there is no such thing, anyone who does raise questions is, by definition, out to get Haredim.
Friday, July 3, 2009
My Escapades around Oxford (No I Have Not Been at the Center of Any International Intrigue)
I have fallen head over heels in love with the city of Oxford. Heaven should look like it. Oxford may not be a beautiful city in the conventional sense, but it is old, historic and the academic city that every other academic city wishes it could be. In other words, my kind of town.
While walking about I ran into a former professor of mine, James Bracken. I was really surprised when he introduced me to his friend from Gustavus Adolphus College in Minnesota (If only Gustavus had been Norwegian and not Swedish we could have had the perfect Garrison Keillor Minnesota stereotype.). Dr. Bracken actually managed to remember the paper I wrote on Christian Hebraism for his History of the Book class. We promptly did the sacred letters, O-H, to demonstrate Ohio State’s kinyan, ownership, of this land. (We did not have the manpower to perform the I-O, but I am sure Coach Woody Hayes up above understands.)
I walked into a Borders here at Oxford. It is good to feel some of the pleasures of home. Stephenie Meyer and her Twilight vampires are clearly a hit in this country as well.
While walking about I ran into a former professor of mine, James Bracken. I was really surprised when he introduced me to his friend from Gustavus Adolphus College in Minnesota (If only Gustavus had been Norwegian and not Swedish we could have had the perfect Garrison Keillor Minnesota stereotype.). Dr. Bracken actually managed to remember the paper I wrote on Christian Hebraism for his History of the Book class. We promptly did the sacred letters, O-H, to demonstrate Ohio State’s kinyan, ownership, of this land. (We did not have the manpower to perform the I-O, but I am sure Coach Woody Hayes up above understands.)
Oxford, like Columbus, has a Broad and a High Street. So I think this makes it a very ripe target for my brand of academic imperialism.
A few posts back, I discussed Terry Eagleton and his Marxist beliefs. If anyone has any doubts about that, Eagleton is listed as a speaker at an upcoming Marxist rally.
I walked into a Borders here at Oxford. It is good to feel some of the pleasures of home. Stephenie Meyer and her Twilight vampires are clearly a hit in this country as well.
I got this picture of myself next to posters for the upcoming performances of Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors and Roald Dahl’s BFG. Between Shakespeare at his worst and Dahl at his best, I think I am going to go with Dahl.
I managed to befriend some of the workers at the theater pub. They were Dahl fans as well and believed in the continued relevance of Dahl in saving the world. We also got to talking about Disney and Monty Python. There was a girl in the group; she was intrigued by the fact that I was an American. She had not spoken to any Americans since the election and wanted to know what I thought about Barack Obama. That was a tricky one for me as I am part of the small minority of my peer group that does not support Obama, making me a very poor sample. I started dancing around the issue, explaining that I liked Obama as a person, but I had problems with many of his policies. In the end, I told her point-blank that I was a Republican, who voted for McCain, though one who is not happy with the party, mainly because it had been taken over by the Christian right. I furthermore explained that I was a Libertarian and elaborated on what that meant. She seemed satisfied with my response. In my experience, most people become very open to Libertarianism once you explain to them what it is. Libertarianism has a lot to offer, particularly if you are a well-educated person, working hard to make ends meet, who enjoys the occasional beer and hand-rolled cigarette.
Sitting around in the Oriental Studies library, I came across an essay by David S. Katz, “Edmund Gayton’s Anti-Jewish Poem Addressed to Manasseh Ben Israel, 1656.” [JQR 71(1980-81)] This essay deals with a series of rumors, circulated by royalists, while the issue of Jewish readmission into England was being debated, that the Jews were negotiating with Oliver Cromwell’s government to buy St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Bodleian Library, the main library at Oxford. Apparently, the Jews offered 500,000 pounds but Cromwell wanted 700,000-800,000 pounds. I showed this to the librarian and he got a good laugh.
Sitting around in the Oriental Studies library, I came across an essay by David S. Katz, “Edmund Gayton’s Anti-Jewish Poem Addressed to Manasseh Ben Israel, 1656.” [JQR 71(1980-81)] This essay deals with a series of rumors, circulated by royalists, while the issue of Jewish readmission into England was being debated, that the Jews were negotiating with Oliver Cromwell’s government to buy St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Bodleian Library, the main library at Oxford. Apparently, the Jews offered 500,000 pounds but Cromwell wanted 700,000-800,000 pounds. I showed this to the librarian and he got a good laugh.
Now, this is a plot that I could go for. So here it is for all you members of the Elders of Zion. I am not interested in taking over banks or Hollywood; what I want is the Bodleian Library. Well, the Bodleian and the rest of Oxford. The Bodleian can be my castle and the rest of greater Oxford can be my personal feudal kingdom, which would give me the Yarnton Manor as a summer/plague retreat.
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