This volume’s point of departure is Amos Funkenstein’s seminal work on Christian anti-Jewish polemics in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries (1, n. 1). Funkenstein has argued that in addition to the old-style argumentation from the Hebrew Bible, anti-Jewish Christian polemics introduced rational-philosophical argumentation. This new approach served different Christian polemicists to both attack the Talmud and show that the Talmud proves the truth of Christianity. Funkenstein attempted to learn about changes in Christian attitudes toward Judaism and Jews in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries from these polemical developments. The present volume illustrates that blurry boundaries existed between these four patterns of argumentation and explores the intellectual interplays between the different polemical approaches.
Ursula Regacs focuses on Jesus’s trial as presented in BT Sanhedrin 43a, which was mentioned in the Parise Disputations, the Extractiones de Talmud (the Latin translation of the Talmud) that followed, the Barcelona Disputation, and Raymond Martini’s Pugio fidei. BT Sanhedrin 43a teaches that before the execution of a condemned man a herald goes before him to announce his execution and call for defenders on his behalf to come forward. Sanhedrin 43a says that Jesus’s period of defense was 40 days. According to Regacs, Sanhedrin 43a was not just a creative counter-narrative to the Gospel’s account of Jesus’s trial, as Peter Schafer has suggested, but also a complex inner-rabbinic discussion on the halakhic principles of the trial’s procedure. In her opinion, the issue in Sanh. 43a was not whether the 40-day period Jesus received before his execution was halakhically justifiable, but whether it was halakhically correct at all to assume that a defense of Jesus was permissible because he was considered an enticer, and the death verdict was inevitable for enticers according to Rabbi Ulla. Regacs concludes that Sanh. 43a intended to provide an argument against the Christian accusation that the Jews conducted a “false trial” against Jesus, and to justify the halakhic process of the trial due to an apparent contradiction regarding the process of defense.
Isaac Lampurlanes Farre edits and translates the study section of Odo of Chateauroux’s correspondence with Pope Innocent IV in the so-called Talmud dossier, a collection that also contains the Extractiones de Talmud and the reports of the Paris Disputation. Scholars like Salomon Grayzel and Chenmelech Merchavia have published transcriptions of texts from the Paris Disputation (the latter in Hebrew). Farre provides here the first critical edition and in-depth study of the papal letters that were collected in the dossier with the transcription of a different witness of the letter that Gregory IX originally sent to the archbishops of Aragon, Portugal, and Castile and Leon in 1240. Farre demonstrates that in his correspondence with the pope, Odo used the letters of Pope Gregory IX to manipulate Pope Innocent into continuing Gregory’s policy and accepting his own hostile anti-Talmud view. Unlike Gregory, who had accepted Nicholas Donin’s 35 articles against the Talmud and approved its burning, Innocent ultimately sanctioned censorship of the Talmud but not its total removal. Farre thus provides an important insight into the dynamics between the local ecclesiastical authorities in Paris and the relatively tolerant policy of Innocent IV toward the Talmud.
Moises Ofali addresses the evolution of the Christian accusation of rabbinic anthropomorphism from its first appearance in the writings of Agobard of Lyon, Petrus Alphonsi and Petrus Venerabilis to Nicolas Donin, Ramon Marti, and Jeronimo de Santa Fe of the Tortosa Disputation. Ofali points out the innovative contribution that these individuals introduced in their criticism of the Midrashim and Haggadot that ascribe to God human characteristics. Agobard is the “pioneer” in this matter with his Jewish descriptions of God that resonate with Shiur Qomah (the Measurements of God, this esoteric text intended to show that God cannot be quantified or comprehended). The Jewish convert, Petrus Alphonsi, was the first to familiarize Christians with examples of anthropomorphism of God directly from the Talmud, and “the first author who turned to the Talmud to prove that Christianity is the true faith” (74). Unlike Alphonsi, Petrus Venerabilis did not just ridicule the Talmud; he suggested condemning it and its authors to eternal fire. His suggestion became a reality thanks to Nicholas Donin de La Rochelle. His accusations of anthropomorphism in the Talmud contributed to the harsh verdict against the book and the radical change in the Church policy. Despite these anti-Jewish accusations of anthropomorphism, Ofali reminds us that all monotheistic religions mention esoteric experiences of heavenly ascent, which necessitate the use of human imagery. Christian polemics attacked the Midrashim and Haggadot for attributing human characteristics to God but ignored the fact that human imagery of God is vital to Christianity. The works of Ramon Marti and Jeronimo de Santa Fe serve Ofali to support this point. They both rejected Midrash and Haggadah, but not the sections that they deemed beneficial to their anti-Jewish attacks.
Harvey Hames argues that the Latin and Hebrew reports of the Barcelona Disputation show that conversion was not the primary goal of the event. Hames asks: “What kind of conversion attempt would this public disputation be if the central beliefs of the Christian faith were not broached?” (93). Based on Guillem de Cervellon’s comments during the disputation and references in the Latin text, Hames argues that the disputation’s goal was to assure Christians that Jewish texts acknowledge that the Messiah has come and that he must be Christ. It is possible that conversion was not an agenda, as Hames skillfully argues. But it was smart for the Christian side to prohibit a discussion on Christian beliefs to avoid exposure to doctrinal vulnerability and keep the pressure on the Jewish interlocutors. Perhaps the Christian hope was that Jews would convert if they were convinced by their own texts that Jesus the Messiah has come.
A similar hope is expressed by Ramon Marti in the Pugio fidei, which is analyzed by Wilhelm Schmidet-Biggemann. This “most erudite example of Christian Hebraism in the Middle Ages” (117) argues that the Christian truth can be found in Jewish sources. The Pugio fidei was thus designed as a manual for missionizing Jews. Despite the confidence that the Jews could be converted, the work failed to convince the Jews that Christianity was the true faith. Schmidet-Biggemann clarifies the complex structure of the work while presenting its central topics and doctrinal implications. He discusses the Pugio fidei in the context of the rise of Kabbalah in the Kingdom of Aragon and briefly provides examples of a few important leading Jewish Kabbalists. Kabbalah provides another example for Schmidet-Biggemann’s argument that Christian knowledge of Jewish texts, especially rabbinic, increased a great deal during these years.
Thomas E. Burman maintains that Ramon Marti was a polemicist interested in the literal meaning of the Bible like other Biblicists. Burman demonstrates his point by focusing on Ramon Marti’s and Nicholas of Lyra’s use of Isaiah 48:16. Christian exegetes and polemicists took the verse as a reference to the Trinity. Unlike Ramon Marti’s hostile approach to Jewish and Muslim works, Nicholas of Lyra was relatively positive about the medieval Jewish exegesis he used to clarify the literal meaning of the Hebrew Bible. Nevertheless, Burman shows that Nicholas borrowed directly from Marti regarding the interpretation of Isaiah 48:16: “Marti’s approach to Biblical exegesis foreshadowed the ‘extended-literal’ interpretation for which Nicholas is famous” (122). Burman offers references to Rashi’s commentary on Isaiah among his examples of Marti’s exegetic approach.
Görge K. Hasselhoff sheds light on Marti’s reliance on the work of Moshe ha-Darshan in his references to Bereshit Rabbah, which deals to a large extent with messianic interpretations of biblical texts. Based on his survey of the introduction to Bereshit Rabbah in the Pugio fidei, Hasselhoff shows that Marti relied on two or three manuscripts with the titles Bereshit (Rabbah) qatanah, Bereshit Rabbah gedolah, and perhaps one called Bereshit Rabbah. Although the relationship between the references from these works and Moshe ha-Darshan’s edition remains unclear, Hasselhoff is convinced that Ramon Marti had at least one manuscript that was ascribed to R. Moshe ha-Darshan, who is presented as the author or redactor of Bereshit Rabbah. It is also unclear whether Marti had these texts while writing his book or if he relied on other sources that mentioned them. Hasselhoff provides a useful Appendix with references to Bereshit Rabbah in Marti’s Pugio fidei.
Diana Di Segni examines the reliance of the fourteenth-century anti-Jewish treatise Victoria Porcheti adversos impios Hebraeos by the unknown author Porchetus Salvaticus on the Pugio fidei and the contribution of this work to the revival of the Christian interest in rabbinic texts during the Renaissance. This contribution was made possible in part thanks to Bishop Agostino Giustiniani, who published the Victoria Porcheti and printed a copy of the thirteenth-century Dux neutrorum, the Lain translation of Moses Maimonides’s Guide of the Perplexed, in 1520. Thanks to Giustiniani, Di Segni could shed more light on the mysterious Porchetus Salvaticus. Di Segni considers the Victoria Porcheti a collection of polemical arguments rather than a polemical work. The Victoria Porcheti adopted most of these arguments from Marti’s Pugio fidei, at times word for word. Among the parallels Di Segni provides is Maimonides’s argument from theGuide concerning the resemblance between God and humans by means of the intellect found in the Pugio fidei. According to De Segni, Giustiniani’s innovation was the integration of Porchetus Salvaticus’s writings into the corpus of Kabbalistic materials that several intellectuals in the Renaissance worked with. This article includes two Appendices. The first is the structure of the Victoria Porcheti in Latin; the second is its correspondence with thePugio fidei.
Ryan Szpiech compares the responses of Ramon Marti and the convert Abner of Burgos (a.k.a. Alfonso of Valladolid) to the Jewish doctrine of the two Messiahs: Messiah ben Joseph and Messiah ben David. Szpiech argues that their works were independent of each other and relied on different sources despite the many similarities. Following Robert Chazan’s suggestion, Szpiech argues that Abner was not familiar with Marti’s work and did not draw directly or indirectly from his texts. Marti based his discussion about Messiah ben Joseph on rabbinic texts (BT Sukkah 52a, for example) and concluded that the two Messiahs denoted Jesus. Abner, by contrast, shows knowledge of Sefer Zerubbabel and pseudo-prophetic texts or proto-apocalyptic midrash like Otot ha-Mashiah (Signs of the Messiah), and concluded that numerous individuals titled “anointed one” were related to Joseph’s lineage--members of the Hasmonean dynasty for example--rather than to Messiah ben David. Another significant difference between Marti and Abner is that Abner wrote for fellow Jews. This makes Abner’s work even more critical for the study of the Christian reception of rabbinic literature in the Middle Ages, surpassing Ramon Marti’s view in various aspects.
Alexander Fidora identifies the overlooked rabbinic sources in the work of Thomas Bradwardine, a prominent member of the fourteenth-century Oxford Calculators. Fidora shows that Bradwardine’s De causa Dei contains quotations from the thirteenth-century Latin translation of Rambam’s Guide of the Perplexed (the Dux neutrorum) as well as from Ramon Marti’s references in the Pugio fidei to Rambam’s Mishneh Torah, the Talmud (BT Yoma 21a; 39a-b) and Targum (to Genesis 49:10). While Bradwardine rejected Rambam’s negative theology regarding God’s attributes, he developed his “Deus est” concept mainly in response to Rambam’s view on the Tetragrammaton and God’s personal name from Exodus 3:14 (“I am who I am”). Nevertheless, Bradwardine found his engagement with Rambam’s works necessary because the Jews considered Rambam the most esteemed Jew since the prophet Moses, as they asserted that “from Moses [the prophet] to Moses [Rambam’s first name], none arose like Moses.” This dictum, which is not transmitted in any other Latin source from the Middle Ages according to Fidora, convinces him that Bradwardine had personal contacts with Jews, perhaps at the Domus Conversorum in London. Where and how Bradwardine accessed the Latin translation of Rambam’s Guide and Marti’s Pugio fidei remains unclear.
Yosi Yisraeli discusses the debate over tana devei Eliyahu’s dictum on the duration of the world and the identity of this Eliyahu (Hebrew for Elijah) in the Tortosa Disputation. According to Yisraeli, his identity and the prophetic authority of tana devei Eliyahu constituted trivial issues in the history of Jewish-Christian polemics before the Tortosa Disputation. The debate, therefore, reveals new directions for Jewish-Christian polemics. Additionally, the Tortosa Disputation departed at times from traditional debates as it introduced the “converso voices” that progressed in the Iberian Peninsula during these years. Geronimo de Santa Fe identified Eliyahu of the midrash with the biblical Elijah. He thus attributed to the prophet the teaching of Elijah’s school on the duration of the world to claim that the Jewish text proves with authority that Jesus was the Messiah, that he was already born, and that he has already come. In response to this argument, a new Jewish strategy attempted to disassociate the school of Eliyahu from the biblical prophet. Although the calculation in the midrash does not square with Jesus’s chronology, Geronimo still insisted that the teaching of the school of Elijah is relevant because it was compiled into the Talmud and never rejected by the rabbis. Geronimo thus dismissed the Jewish argument that tana devei Eliyahu had no polemical value because as haggadah or fabula, it was non-binding and because the speculative chronological calculation was made by a sage called Elijah rather than the biblical prophet.
Monica Colominas Aparicio’s discussion on Muslim polemical approaches to the transmission of religious knowledge and to rabbinic erudition reminds us of the broader context of medieval polemics. Unlike the Christian polemical works, citations from the Hebrew Bible appear occasionally in Muslim polemics, and references from rabbinic traditions are rare. When they do surface, their exact original loci are missing. Of the few Muslim polemicists who did engage with rabbinic sources in the context of divine knowledge, Aparicio focuses on Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah’s Kitāb Hidāyat al-ḥayārá fī ajwibat al-Yahūd wa-al-Naṣārá (Guidance for the Confused Concerning Answers to the Jews and Christians). Responding to the non-believers’ claim that Muslims derive their beliefs from ordinary people with weak religious knowledge, Ibn Qayyim argued that religious knowledge, rather than erudition, was crucial. This religious knowledge is Islamic beliefs. In the scheme of attacking Judaism and the rabbis, he followed the traditional Muslim accusation (Ibn Hazm and at-Tabari, for example) that the Jews falsified God’s word in the Torah. Aparicio points out Ibn Qayyim’s original contribution to this accusation in his discussions of the Septuagint and the prophet-scribe-priest Ezra. Aparicio also notes that Ibn Qayyim recognized the infiltration of Jewish erudition into Muslim society through converts, which he considered a positive development since these converts are now members of the Islamic community where knowledge of Islam is shared and distributed equally. Aparicio sees in Ibn Qayyim’s work reflections of the historical reality of his time, a reality that involved conversions and internal conflict among Muslims.
All in all, this is a cohesive volume that provides nuanced and multifaceted insight into the development of Jewish-Christian polemics. Each article attempts to point out milestones or/and innovations in this development and does so effectively thanks to the authors’ expertise and their close reading of the primary texts. Taken together, these articles challenge the boundaries of the four patterns of Christian polemical argumentation in the Middle Ages. Scholars and advanced students would find this volume extremely valuable.