Many voices, one voice - creation story in Genesis

FindArticles > Judaism > Fall, 1998 > Article >

Many voices, one voice - creation story in Genesis

David R. Blumenthal

The majestic sweep of the creation story told in Genesis 1:1-2:3 strikes me every time I read it. The power is overwhelming, the simplicity is awe-inspiring, and the orderliness is deeply impressive. There is something beyond-time about this creation narrative. I have read it ritually on Simhat Torah and been moved to tears by its transcendent power.(1)
And yet, the creation narrative is a very complicated text. It is actually more complicated than the text of evolution which is, itself, not simple. So many problems and questions arise: What is the meaning of the grammatical irregularity in the first sentence? Are the waters not created? What exactly happened on the second day? Why does it take two days to do the "work of the waters and the land"? Since the trees were created with their fruits, were fall and spring fruits present at the same time? Which came first, the chicken or the egg? What is the difference, if any, between the slithering and the crawling creatures? What is the "image of God" in which humankind is created? Since there are differences between the creation stories in Genesis 1:1-2:3 and Genesis 2:4-25, what is the relationship between these two tales? Study is the only way into this narrative; the more one studies, the deeper the text becomes.
The problem is how to translate and comment in a way that captures the depth of the text and the variety of readings thereof. Modern translators, editors, and commentators have adopted two methods. The first proposes a new translation and a brief commentary authored by the translator. Thus, Mitchell,(2) after an introduction, translates anew the Genesis narrative. Alter(3) translates anew with a brief commentary. And Fox(4) introduces and then translates with brief commentary. The same method was used by Sarna(5) and, before him, by Speiser(6) though, Sarna and Speiser are more scholarly, speaking from within the ancient near eastern setting of biblical culture. The problem with this method is that the reader gets the view only of the translator-commentator, learned, literary, and poetic though that may be. The plurality of the readings of the tradition is lost.
The second method for capturing the depth and variety of the text is to present the traditional rabbinic commentaries. This was done in English first under the editorship of the late chief rabbi of England, Dr.J.H. Hertz,(7) who also added his own comments to those of the traditional translators. The Soncino Press, which published the Hertz commentary, seems to have sensed that the traditional commentators had not been given a fair shake, and so they commissioned a work which excerpted the traditional commentaries without additions.(8) Most recently, the Artscroll series(9) returned to the task of presenting the traditional commentaries in a much more expansive manner. The problem with this method is that the medieval commentators (and the midrashic texts) are only summarized; they are not presented in their own voice. Hence, the reader has no direct contact, albeit in translation, with the richness of the readings of the tradition.
There are many traditional commentators but four deserve special attention because they represent four approaches to the text. The most widely read book in rabbinic Jewish culture is not, properly speaking, a book but a commentary, Rashi's commentary to the Tanakh.(10) No one with an education rooted in the tradition finds his or her way into the scriptural text without Rashi (1040-1105, northern Europe). His commentary, which is a mixture of explication and midrash, was and remains the key to the rabbinic understanding of the Tanakh. Another commentator widely read but only by the advanced student is Ibn Ezra (1194-1270, Spain). His commentary is very technical. It is also laconic to the point of being very difficult to understand at many points. Yet a third basic commentary to Genesis is that of Rashbam (1085-1174, northern Europe). He hews very closely to the text yet his commentary to our chapter is omitted from many of the standard editions of rabbinic commentaries; why? He is the grandson of Rashi; why did he feel compelled to write his own commentary? Finally, what would a philosopher, rabbinic sage, and kabbalist like Nahmanides, known as Ramban (1194-1270, Spain), do with this narrative? How would he work his science, philosophy, and mysticism into the text of the Torah?
To explore the varying interpretations of the creation narrative, I first studied and taught these four commentators.(11) In the course of this work, a series of very interesting questions arose: First, how did Rashi, Ibn Ezra, Rashbam, and Ramban "read" the text? How would the narrative look if written from the point of view of these commentaries? How would one (re)write the narrative line so as to reflect their interpretations? What would "Rashi's Genesis" look like? "Ibn Ezra's"? "Rashbam's"? and "Ramban's"?
To answer this question, I asked students to (re)write the creation narrative from the point of view of various commentators. This was a new way of seeing the creation story, of reading Genesis.(12) In the text that follows, I present a joint effort at (re)writing the creation narrative according to Rashi and Ibn Ezra by Ms. Toby Director Goldman and myself. Our work is the result of long study sessions held together with the Wexner Heritage Foundation leadership group in Atlanta, and we wish to acknowledge their participation. In addition, I give my (re)written creation narrative of Rashbam and Ramban. For comparison, I include my translation of the original text, called "The Traditional Genesis." This translation hews as closely as possible to the original Hebrew as well as to traditional English style and rhythm so that the reader can get a sense of just how different the (re)written texts of the commentators are.
The existence of four very different "readings" of the Genesis story gave rise to another question, how should one best present them without favoring one over the other. Put more generally, how does one display polysemous texts? In a previous book,(31) presented four psalms, with four commentaries each, in the form of a "grouped textual field," that is, arranged on the page the way a traditional rabbinic book is arranged - with the main text in the middle and the commentaries displayed around the text. This method of text presentation, relatively new in English, is actually the classical rabbinic method of presenting a sacred text that can be read in more than one way. I have arranged the reconstructed Genesis narratives of Rashi, Ibn Ezra, Rashbam, and Ramban in a parallel manner here.(14) The reader is invited to follow these reconstructed narratives in this very Jewish mode of text presentation.
I have used the following editorial conventions: (1) Where a commentator offers more than one interpretation, I give it as an alternative in the footnotes, labeled "Alt." Where alternate phrasing for the English seemed appropriate, I present that, too, in the footnotes, labeled as "Ling. alt." ("linguistic alternative"). (2) The (re)written narratives are given, in large measure, without references to the literature upon which the commentators drew. For those sources, the reader should consult the editions and translations in the notes. (3) I have systematically used inclusive language even when referring to God, although Hebrew uses male-gendered language for God and for inclusive human references.
Yet another question arose while studying and teaching these commentaries: Is there such a thing as the "simple meaning," the sensus literalis, the peshat? Or, are we dealing with a polysignificant text, one which simply has more than one meaning? If so, how can one assert an authoritative meaning for a polysemous text? What is the relationship between multivalence and truth? These questions, although they have come to the fore of literary and philosophic criticism in the second half of our century, were known to the medieval commentators whose readings of the creation narrative are set forth here. The juxtaposition of these (re)written creation narratives presents an opportunity to examine these questions more fully.
Reading these creation narratives side by side leads to a sense of wonder - over the depth of the Genesis text itself and over the care with which earlier readers approached it. (Re)writing the creation narrative from the point of view of several commentators has highlighted this, as perhaps study of the commentaries alone did not. If, as Jon Levenson has argued,(15) the original Genesis version of the creation story was intended to stamp order on previous and parallel versions which are more chaotic, then the text did not succeed in doing that for long, for the sheer complexity of the received text, together with the love and intelligence lavished on it by readers throughout the ages, generated its own multiplicities. We are awash in questions and interpretations. It seems to me, therefore, that there is no "simple meaning," no sensus literalis, no peshat. Rather, there is variety of literary interpretation, though all subscribe to the theological thesis that there is but one God and that it is God Who is the source of the existence of all creation, in one way or another. There is no one voice, but rather voices, though there is only one Voice.
The question of the authority of the creation narrative is twofold - spiritual-theological and socio-political. Both these dimensions are common to the issue of authoritative written or oral texts in all religious traditions and both can be said to define the "sacredness" of the text(s) under consideration.
The spiritual-theological authority of a text can stem from one or more sources. One could argue, with Heschel,(16) that the ultimate authority of a sacred text comes from its ability to embody the holy, to allude to the transcendent. This aspect of a text, while not verifiable in any philosophic sense, is recognizable, and one generation conveys its sense of the numinous nature of the text to another. The authority of the text, in this view, is the echo of its spirituality through time. Or, one could argue, with Judah Halevi, that the ultimate authority of a sacred text comes from the continuous historical witness to its extraordinary origin. The presence of over one million people at Sinai and the continuous affirmation, generation after generation, that a text was given by God at that moment in time constitutes the authority of the text.(17) There are other arguments, but the arguments from spiritual experience and historical witness are among the strongest. Seen in this way, the Voice of the creation narrative, i.e., the theological thesis that the one God created reality, is "verified" for the contemporary reader either through his or her own experience of the numinous in this text, or by her or his sense of the weight of continuous historical witness. In either case, the authority does not vouch for the details; these are in interpretive dispute. Experience and/or history only affirm the Presence, the Voice.
The socio-political authority of a text can also stem from one or more sources. One could argue, with Kaplan,(18) that it is the acceptance of a text by a community that gives it its sacredness. If a text is not accepted by the community, it is not part of the canon and it is not sacred. Or, one could argue, with Maimonides,(19) that there is a continuous chain of scholars whose authority is recognized by the community and that it is the scholars who lend authority to the text. If one were to recognize different scholars as the appropriate interpretive authority, one would have a different sense of the authority of a text. Seen in this way, the truth of the creation narrative is a function of the community to which one belongs and/or of the scholars whom one invests with the authority to determine truth.(20)
In an article I wrote many years ago,(21) I noted that Maimonides confronted the question of the authority of the text in both its spiritual-theological and its sociopolitical dimensions and determined that Moses, and hence the Torah and the Jewish religion, were superior on both grounds. Moses had attained the most advanced possible spiritual state and he had given the world the most advanced possible legal system. He was, thus, both a spiritual-theological and a socio-political authority. Furthermore, the text he gave was, in its direct emanation from the Godhead, divine but, in its language and concepts, it was the work of Moses who was the best-prepared of intellects. The authority of the Torah, then, was a fusion of the spiritual-theological (divine) and the socio-political (human). Its origin was divine, but its formulation, the details of its language, its theology, and its legal implications, would certainly be disputed in the millennia after Moses.(22) The Voice is re-sounded in the multiplicity of voices.
It seems to me that the traditional Jewish world view is an approach to text that is both logocentric and plurisignificant; it is univocal and multivocal at the same time. Text, even sacred text, is the result of intertextuality - with other preceding texts and contexts, with the texts of the experience of the divine and of the community, and with the personal texts of the author and the reader. Text is, thus, always multivocal, plurisignificant. Yet text always has authority and, while that authority varies with the spiritual, theological, communal, and political location of the reader, it is authority that provides intellectual, spiritual, and social coherence. Text is, thus, always also univocal, logocentric.(23) Finally, even authority is always multivocal - as soon as one gets down to the details of the text - without the multivocity ever undermining the logocentricity of the text. (Re)writing of the creation narrative, in its authenticity and its multivocity, demonstrates this world view very clearly.
Here are the four versions of the first day of creation.(24)
RAMBAN
1. Through(1) the Ten Sefirot,(2) God created, from absolute nothingness, the prime matter of the heavens and all it would contain and the prime matter of the earth and all that it would contain.(3)
RASHI
1. When God as Judge(1) began creating the heavens and all that was embedded in them and the earth(2) and all that was embedded in it,(3)
1. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.(*)
RASHBAM
1. To remind the Jewish people of the reason for the observance of the Shabbat as described in the Ten Commandments, Moses told the story of creation: At the time when the upper heavens and the earth had already been created, a long or a short time before the acts related in Genesis,(1)
IBN EZRA
1. In the beginning of God's creating, God used natural forces to set boundaries, forming the created ante-mundane matter(1) into the visible sky, the invisible spheres, and the dry land.(2)
RAMBAN
2. The lower prime matter, after its creation from nothingness, was completely prime matter, that is matter without substance.(4) God then clothed it in four forms:(5) fire(6) was above the water-earth,(7) and air(8) was above the water.
RASHI
2. the earth was astonishingly empty, darkness was over the waters which covered the earth, and the Throne of Glory hovered over the waters by the command of God.(4)
2. The earth was void and empty; darkness was on the face of the depths; the spirit of God hovered above the waters.
RASHBAM
2. the earth as we know it was completely empty, for water covered it up to the upper heavens. Darkness that was not night was over the depths, and there was no light in the heavens. A wind blew across the waters.
IBN EZRA
2. The dry land was an empty waste(3) because it was covered by darkness and water, and the wind of God blew over the waters.
RAMBAN
3. God thoughtfully willed that, from the upper prime matter, light should pass from potentiality into existence;(9) and it was so forever.
RASHI
3. God as Judge said, "Let there be light" and there was light.(5)
3. God said, "Let there be light" and there was light.
RASHBAM
3. God said, "Let there be light" to correct the lack of light, and there was light.
IBN EZRA
3. God said effortlessly,(4) "Let there be elemental fire" and there was elemental fire.(5)
RAMBAN
4. God confirmed the light in its existence in God's will.(10) God set the measure of the light and of the darkness.(11)
RASHI
4. God saw that the light was good but that it was confusing for the light and the darkness to function together, so God separated the light from the darkness.(6)
4. God saw that the light was good; God divided between the light and the darkness.
RASHBAM
4. God looked at the light and saw that it was beautiful. God divided the light into a unit of twelve hours and the darkness into a unit of twelve hours.
IBN EZRA
4. God understood(6) that the elemental fire was good. God divided the light of the fire from the absence thereof.
RAMBAN
5. God differentiated "day" from "night."(12) The prime matters, the elements, and the light existed separately for twelve hours; then, God allowed the light to shine forth to the elements;(13) day one.(14)
RASHI
5. God named the light "day" and the darkness "night." There was evening and there was morning, a day of God, alone in the world God had created.(7)
5. God called the light "day" and the darkness God called "night"; there was evening and there was morning, day one.
RASHBAM
5. God named the newly-formed unit of twelve hours of light "day" and the newly-formed unit of twelve hours of darkness "night," and they have been so called ever since, day always preceding night. Daylight turned to evening as its light faded; then, morning broke as the morning star signaled the end of night. The first of the six days of creation referred to in the Ten Commandments was, thus, completed and the second day began.(2)
IBN EZRA
5. by naming the light "day" and the darkness "night." The diurnal(7) sphere revolved once, day blended into evening and night blended into dawn,(8) day one.(9)
* My translation from the Hebrew.
NOTES TO RAMBAN
1. Ramban notes that the Torah begins with the narrative of the creation because creation is the root of Jewish faith. He, thus, knowingly disagrees with Rashi.
2. The Ten Sefirot of Jewish mysticism are: Keter, Hokhma, Gevura, Tiferet, Netsah, Hod, Yesod, and Malkhut (Shekhina). They are aspects of the inner being of God; they are, thus, "intradeical" and precede the creation of all parts of the universe. The sources always refer to them through a complicated set of symbols and images which need to be deciphered. Through study, one can learn the process by which the sefirot were generated and, through meditation, one can attain mystical contact with them. The Zohar is the best known source for this theosophic-mystical theology, though Ramban, who preceded the Zohar by a generation, was familiar with this system of thought. On the realm of the sefirot, see D. R. Blumenthal, Understanding Jewish Mysticism, vol. 1 (New York: Ktav, 1978), part 1.
In his interpretation of this passage, Ramban reasons that the first word, be-reshit, means "with reshit. "The latter alludes to Hokhma since Hokhma is called reshit (Prov. 3:19). Another biblical use of reshit refers to the heave-offering, which represents Malkhut. Yet another reshit refers to Israel, which represents Malkhut. And yet another reshit refers to Moses who, according to rabbinic tradition, looked at the "shining speculum" (a reference to Tiferet) and saw reshit, again a reference to Hokhma. Several sefirot, then, are alluded to with the word, bereshit. It is be-reshit, through, or with, these sefirot that God created the world.
Later in this commentary, Ramban notes that the crown on the word bereshit alludes to Keter while the word Elohim, the third word in the sentence, represents Bind. This yields the most esoteric interpretation which, however, Ramban does not mention at all: Through Hokhma, Keter created Bind (the rest of the sefirot correspond to the six days of creation plus the Shabbat). In this interpretation, Keter is the ineffable subject of bara' ("created"); Elohim is the object; and bereshit designates the means. This interpretation appears in the Zohar and elsewhere. Ramban, however, considered it too profound to state explicitly, though it is clearly present in his commentary. Alt.: In the beginning. Ramban, thus, provides an alternate, nonmystical rendering.
3. In medieval physics, all matter has a substrate. The heavenly spheres and the heavenly bodies are derived from the "fifth (quint-) essence," i.e., they have one common substrate; it is called "prime matter" (Greek, hyle; Arabic, hayula; Hebrew, golem). The four elements - fire, air, water, and earth - and therefore all terrestrial beings also have a substrate; it too is called a "prime matter" (same terms). Some theorists thought there was only one prime matter but Ramban clearly states that, since the two types of matter - supernal and sublunar - are different, so much their substrates be different; hence, there are two prime matters, an upper and a lower. These two substrates were created ex nihilo, from absolute nothingness, in contrast to the rest of creation (see below)
4. Hebrew, tohu, with supporting verses.
5. Hebrew, bohu, derived as two words: bo hu. In medieval physics, in addition to matter, there are "forms" (the neoaristotelian term) or "ideas" (the platonic term). These are "put" into matter to make it into whatever the form is. Thus, the form of "dog" put into the proper substrate generates a real dog. The process of "putting forms" into substrate, called "information," constitutes the other acts of creation. The first stage of creation is putting the forms of the four elements into the lower prime matter. That is the activity of bohu. The word of in-forming the upper prime matter is left to the second day.
6. Hebrew, hoshekh, taken as the element of fire. Elemental fire is invisible; hence, hoshekh, "darkness." On the elements, see the commentary of Ibn Ezra to v. 3.
7. Hebrew, tehom, is a mixture of water and earth, like the sea floor.
8. Hebrew, ruah. The elements are actually invisible spheres around our earth and, in the verse, they are arranged in their natural hierarchial order. The creation of the angels is not recorded in Scripture.
9. Hebrew, 'amar, always means: After thoughtful consideration, God willed that a given being pass from potentiality into existence, i.e., that it come into being.
10. Hebrew, ra'ah, always means: God confirmed that a given being continue to exist according to God's will.
11. Hebrew, vayavdel, always means: God set the measure/limits of.
12. Hebrew, vayikra', always means: God differentiated.
13. There was, thus, a period of (co-)existence equaling one "evening" (night) followed by a period of existence equaling one "morning" (day) in which the light shined in the realm of the elements. With this, Ramban aligns himself with those who say that the day begins at evening. For more on the light, see the fourth day.
Alt.: The prime matters and the elements existed for the length of one night; then the light existed for the length of a day. Again, Ramban preserves the precedence of evening (night).
Alt.: The diurnal sphere revolved once, generating a period of twenty-four hours: evening, morning, and evening. Again, Ramban preserves the precedence of evening (night) though he must posit that, on the first day, the diurnal sphere was in-formed into the upper prime matter, just as the four elements were in-formed into the lower prime matter.
14. Ramban notes that, since there is no second day yet, it would be inappropriate for the text to say "a first day." This obviates Rashi's elegant explanations.
NOTES TO RASHI
1. The only divine Name used in this chapter is Elohim, the traditional designation of God's attribute of judgement. Rashi notes that God could not create the world with judgement alone and, hence, the Torah adds the Tetragrammaton, the traditional designation of God's mercy, in chapter two.
2. Rashi indicates that the reason for starting the Torah with Genesis, and not with Sinai, was to provide the Jewish people with a ground for their right to the promised land: Since God created the whole world, God could - and did - assign a special part of it to the Jews. This precludes counterclaims based on conquest or history.
3. Alt.: In the beginning of everything, God as Judge created the heavens and the earth; the heavens and all that it would produce embedded in it, and the earth and all that it would produce embedded within it.
Alt.: For the sake of Torah, / For the sake of Israel, / With wisdom, God as Judge created.
4. Alt.: by the breath blowing from God.
5. Alt.: God as Judge said, "Let there be spiritual light" and there was spiritual light.
6. Alt: God saw that the divine spiritual light was good for the righteous and should not be used by the wicked, so God separated the light and reserved it for the righteous in the world to come.
7. Ling. alt.: a day of God's oneness.
NOTES TO RASHBAM
1. Rashbam may be alluding to the possibility of the world being eternal; even so, however, it is created. In either case the earth, the upper heavens, and the waters existed, i.e., were created, before the light.
2. Rashbam is, thus, of the opinion that the day begins and ends in the morning.
NOTES TO IBN EZRA
1. "Ante-mundane matter" is the primal stuff of which the universe is made. According to Plato, this ante-mundane matter is eternal; it was not created but was always there. Ibn Ezra does not express himself here on this issue. He only notes that this primal stuff was turned into the realities of creation by God. The process by which God turns prime matter into concrete creations is called "in-formation." On this, see the commentary of Ramban to v.
2. Both the concept of prime matter and that of information were well-known and accepted in medieval philosophy. Here, Ibn Ezra teaches, God informs the ante-mundane matter (which may be eternal or created) and, in this way, creates all of the universe.
2. Ling. alt: In the beginning of God's creating, God through the use of angels, set the boundaries of the sky and the dry land.
3. Ling. alt.: uninhabited.
4. Ling. alt.: Without any physical labor, God said (or, commanded).
5. There are four "elements" in late antique and medieval thought: fire, air, earth, and water. They exist in pure form in a sphere or spheres above the earth, and they are invisible in their pure forms. When combined in various proportions and informed, they become earthly fire, air, earth, and water. As such, they form the basic structure of all earthly created things. According to Ibn Ezra, the "light" of v. 3 was really this elemental fire.
Ling. alt.: Let there be light which is elemental fire.
Alt.: Let there be light which is the substance from which all elements are formed.
6. Ling. alt.: perceived / discerned / was aware.
7. In late antique and medieval astrophysics, the geocentric view of the world prevailed. In that Ptolemaic universe, named for the astronomer in late antiquity who taught this system, the earth is in the center of the universe and it does not move. In this view, the heavenly bodies are not free-floating bodies in space but are bodies embedded in solid but invisible "spheres" (not to be confused with the sefirot which are part of the Godhead in Jewish mystical thinking; see the commentary of Ramban to v. 1). The outermost sphere, called "the diurnal sphere," revolves once in twenty-four hours. The other eight spheres contain the various heavenly bodies: the stars, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, the Sun, Mercury, Venus, and the Moon. There are, thus, a total of nine heavenly spheres in late antique and medieval astrophysics. All these spheres revolve around the earth and, although they are invisible, the bright bodies they contain are visible. Sometimes, however, medieval science listed a tenth sphere, the sphere of the elements, taken as a collective (actually, there are four spheres, one for each of the elements: fire, air, water, and earth). For a visual picture of this medieval universe, see D. Blumenthal, Understanding Jewish Mysticism, vol 2 (New York, Ktav: 1982) 5-9. Ibn Ezra affirms nine heavenly spheres; Ramban affirms ten (see his commentary to v.2).
8. The days of creation thus begin and end at daybreak, not at evening.
9. Ling. alt: At the end of the day, there was an evening and then a morning, day one.
NOTES
1. See D. Blumenthal, God at the Center (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988; reprinted Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1994), pp. 191-194.
2. Stephen Mitchell, Genesis (New York: Harper Collins, 1996).
3. Robert Alter, Genesis (New York: W. W. Norton, 1996).
4. Everett Fox, The Five Books of Moses (New York: Schocken Books, 1983/1995).
5. Nahum Sarna, The JPS Torah Commentary: Genesis (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1989).
6. Ephraim Speiser, The Anchor Bible: Genesis (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1964).
7. The Pentateuch and Haftorahs, edited by J. H. Hertz (London: Soncino Press, various editions).
8. The Soncino Chumash, edited by A. Cohen (London: Soncino Press, 1947/1983).
9. Bereshis, edited by M. Zlotowitz with overviews by N. Scherman (New York: Mesorah Publications, 1977/1988).
10. Rashi's commentary is actually the first printed Hebrew book, appearing in 1475 in Reggio di Calabria, Italy.
11. The following editions and translations have been used: Raschi, edited by A. Berliner (Frankfurt: J. Kauffmann: 1905; reprinted, Jerusalem: Kirya Ne'emana, 1973) together with Pentateuch with Targum Onkelos, Haphtaroth and Rashi's Commentary, edited by M. Rosenbaum and A. Silberman (Jerusalem: Silberman Family, 1973); Sefer Be'er Yitzhak (Livorno, 1564; reprinted, Israel, 1975) together with Ibn Ezra's Commentary on the Pentateuch, edited by H. N. Strickman and A. Silver (New York: Menorah Publishing, 1988); Der Pentateuch-Commentar des R. Samuel ben Meir, edited by D. Rosin (Breslau: S. Schottlaender, 1881; reprinted 1965); and Peirush ha-Torah le-rabbenu Moshe ben Nahman, edited by C. Chavel (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1974) together with Ramban, Commentary on the Torah, edited by C. Chavel (New York: Shilo, 1971).
12. At the time I did this, I did not know that it is customary to ask students of Talmud to write out the text from the point of view of various commentators. My thanks to my friend and colleague, Professor Michael Broyde, for this observation as well as for his sage advice on how best to prepare these texts for publication. My thanks, too, to my friend and colleague, Professor Michael Berger, for his very constructive comments to the various versions of this paper.
13. David R. Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1993).
14. I am indebted to Brandon Strange of Emory University for his effort in first composing this text.
15. J. Levenson, Creation and the Persistence of Evil (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); reviewed by D. Blumenthal, Modern Judaism 10 (1990): 105-110.
16. A. J. Heschel, God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism (New York: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1955).
17. To appreciate this argument one should pose the following questions: First, how do we know that Saturday is Shabbat? The answer is because each of us becomes part of a continuous chain of tradition on that subject: my parents told me, as their parents told them, and as I tell my children the rhythms of our community. Indeed, Jewish law gives quite some thought as to what to do when one gets separated from the living community of tradition. Second, one should ask: Where does the tradition of Saturday being Shabbat begin? There are no disputes about this matter in the tradition, though there are calendrical disagreements on many other matters. The answer seems to be that the tradition goes back to the manna which appeared after the crossing of the Reed Sea. Since that time, the Jewish people has, collectively, counted every seventh day and named it Shabbat. It is a continuous tradition, reaching way back into history.
18. M. M. Kaplan, Judaism as a Civilization: Toward a Reconstruction of American Jewish Life (New York: Macmillan, 1934) and elsewhere.
19. M. Maimonides, Commentary to the Mishna, "Introduction."
20. The conflict between (neo)fundamentalist and academic interpretation is, thus, really a socio-political conflict over authority - i.e., over which scholars to recognize as authority or, over which community to belong to.
21. D. Blumenthal, "Maimonides' Intellectualist Mysticism and the Superiority of the Prophecy of Moses," Studies in Medieval Culture 10 (1977): 51-68; reprinted in Approaches to Judaism in Medieval Times, edited by D. Blumenthal (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1984), pp. 27-52. Also available on my website at http://www.emory.edu/UDR/BLUMENTHAL
22. This is also the opinion of Heschel, God in Search of Man.
23. I, personally, favor the use of the spiritual-experiential criterion but I know that others use other criteria for treating texts as authoritative.
24. A specially designed web-format version of this article, including the creation week, is available on my website at http://www.emory.edu/UDR/BLUMENTHAL. For a full text version of this article, see Bibel und Midrasch, ed. G. Bodendorfer and M. Millard, Forschung zum alten Testament (Heidelberg: Mohr Siebeck, 1998), pp. 117-166, with whose permission this excerpt is reprinted here.
DAVID R. BLUMENTHAL is the Jay and Leslie Cohen Professor of Judaic Studies at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia. He has written studies of modern, medieval, and classic Jewish themes, texts, and thinkers. His most recent book, Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest, was published in 1335. His article, "Where God Is Not: The Book of Esther and Song of Songs," appeared in the Winter 1995 issue.
COPYRIGHT 1998 American Jewish CongressCOPYRIGHT 2000 Gale Group