Al Reguel Ajat

Reading Maimonides is not easy, especially his work “Guide for the Perplexed.” When one begins to read it, the first obstacle one encounters is his reluctance to accept that God has human form. And that goes against what many people think. Many people imagine God as an old man with a beard or a king sitting on his throne. They also think that a prophecy is like reading the palm of your hand and that the commandments imply submitting to the will of someone strange and alien. If we were to vote for or against Maimonides’ ideas, the majority would vote against, but fortunately the truth is not defined by votes.

Looking at the behavior of a group, to try to understand what their principles are, is something we must be careful about. For example, the Bible tells us of episodes of revolts, frustrations, disobedience and hypocrisy. As soon as they were freed from Egypt, the Hebrews wanted to go back. Some even rose up against Moses’ authority. The episode of the golden calf proves that they needed an idol to worship. Immoral practices of the Canaanites were copied in Israel. Intrigues and murders plagued the lives of ancient kings. And the northern and southern kingdoms plotted against each other. The above describes a group with few ethical principles.

But paradoxically, all this was happening at the same time that the Jewish people were creating the foundations of the Western moral tradition, giving us the legacy of Moses and a succession of prophets whose words inspire faith, hope and courage. Moses and the prophets saw the possibility of changing these attitudes and elevating the Jewish people to a level of spirituality that few could imagine. In a time when oppression and inequality threatened the social order, the prophet Amos saw an era where justice would prevail. In a time when war seemed imminent, Isaiah saw an era of universal peace. In a time of widespread idolatry, Jeremiah spoke of a new covenant between God and Israel. But at the same time, the Bible also tells us that Amos was cast out of town, that Isaiah’s advice was not heeded, and that Jeremiah was sent to prison.

Maimonides never claimed to be a prophet, but like the prophets, he did not accept the prevailing attitudes in Jewish thought and practice. He insisted on reaching higher levels. His work reminds us that love for God does not come from fanaticism and blind faith. If our love is directed toward that king sitting on the throne or the monarch who only issues arbitrary decrees and cares nothing for the education of his subjects, then that is not the God Maimonides describes, but a sad substitute. The God he describes is one who loves the widow, the orphan, and the stranger, who regrets the existence of ignorance and superstition, and who does not accept people making images of Him, physical or mental. According to Maimonides, thinking and acting in this way is what it means to have been created in the image and likeness of God.

Prepared by Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: “Maimonides: A Guide for Today´s Perplexed” by Kenneth Seeskin.

After a long wandering, Maimonides finally settled in Fustat, a city near Cairo, in 1168. The Jews were doing well in Egypt, living in peace with their Muslim neighbors and belonging to what we would call the middle class today. They lived around synagogues in predominantly Jewish neighborhoods.

Jewish families lived just like Muslim families: they wore similar clothes, shopped in the same stores, and apart from the dietary restrictions each group had, they ate practically the same as their neighbors. One difference was the tallit, which the Jews wore all the time.

In Fustat, Maimonides became interested in the religious affairs of the 7,000 families living there and in Cairo. He was especially concerned about the differences in religious practices between the descendants of Babylonian Jews and the Jews originally from the land of Israel. The most important of these had to do with the order of prayers and the cycle of Torah readings, which for some was completed in one year and for others in three. He tried to mediate to unify religious practices, but he could not. The division was deep-rooted and each group prayed in its synagogue.

He also cared for Jews captured in wars waged by the forces of the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem, as well as those kidnapped by pirates. By appealing personally, forming committees or writing letters, he raised the money needed to pay the ransom and free the captives. He was able to do this because his fame had spread throughout the world and had earned him recognition, not only from Jews, but also from Christians and Arabs. The authorities referred to him as “Rais al Yahud,” the leader of the Jews.

In those years, the Jewish community of Yemen, the second oldest after that of Jerusalem, asked him for advice on how to deal with a situation that threatened its very existence. The Shiite rulers who took power in Yemen in 1172 gave Christians and Jews the choice of converting to Islam or dying. Many Jews converted, not only because of the threat, but also because of their poor knowledge of Judaism. They believed that Muhammad had brought a new religion to replace their own and therefore there was no point in resisting.

Maimonides wrote them a letter, now known as Iggeret Teman (Letter to Yemen) or Petah Tikvah (Gate of Hope) in which he extended his message of hope to all those who lived under oppression and in which he declared his firm commitment to the faith of Israel. He assured them that the Jewish nation always survives any attempt to annihilate it and that oppression would soon end. The letter was distributed throughout the country with very positive effects. Yemenite Jews renewed the bond between Israel and God and waited patiently for Maimonides’ promise to be fulfilled. In 1174 Turhan Shah, Saladin’s brother, entered Yemen and took control of the government, freeing the Jews from their oppression. Maimonides’ promise had been fulfilled.

Prepared by Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: “Maimonides” by Sherwin B. Nuland.

Maimonides was born in Cordoba in 1135, at the end of the golden age of Spanish Judaism. At an early age he developed a marked interest in science and philosophy. He read Greek philosophers in Arabic translations and immersed himself in the study of science and Islamic culture. He studied Torah with his father, Rabbi Maimon ben Yosef.

In 1148 the Caliphate of Cordoba, tolerant of Christians and Jews, collapsed and fell under the regime of the Almohad dynasty, whose attitude was totally contrary, as they forced the “infidels” to convert to Islam or die. Maimonides’ family, like many other Jews, opted for exile. For the next ten years they wandered in southern Spain, until they finally settled in Fez, Morocco. It was during this time that Maimonides wrote his commentary on the Mishnah. From Morocco they moved to the land of Israel, where they stayed for a short time, leaving for Egypt to settle in Fostat, a city near Cairo.

Upon the death of his father, Maimonides became the head of the family, but he was able to continue his studies thanks to his brother David, who managed the family business, the precious stones trade. David drowned at sea on a business trip and Maimonides had to find a way to earn a living. He decided to devote himself to medicine, a profession he studied in Cordoba and Fez. He soon gained public recognition and was named physician to the Court of the Grand Vizier and Sultan Saladin, a position he held until his death in 1204. In accordance with his last wishes, his remains were transferred and buried in Tiberias, in the land of Israel.

Maimonides’ influence on the development of Judaism is incalculable. No spiritual leader after the Talmudic era has had such a great impact as he. Although his philosophical work was initially met with much opposition, over time it was finally accepted. His two main works were the Mishneh Torah, a codification of Jewish law, written as a guide to how to live according to the divine commandments, and the Guide for the Perplexed, a philosophical work where he explains the true meaning of the spirit of the law.

Maimonides, along with Rashi, is one of the most studied authors within Judaism in the Jewish academic world. His work marked the path of synthesis between Aristotelian thought and the Bible. He deeply influenced both Christian thinkers, such as Saint Thomas Aquinas, and Arabs. He is also one of the most widely discussed Jewish thinkers. He has been adopted as a symbol and an intellectual hero by almost all movements in modern Judaism. Having managed to reconcile the philosophical with the traditional has given his legacy great richness and an uncommon quality. That is why it is said that “From Moses to Moses, there has been no one like Moses.”

Prepared by Marcos Gojman from various sources.

From a strictly historical point of view, the Talmud was never finished, never officially declared finished, without the need for additional commentary. The Bible, comparatively, went through different stages of compilation and redaction, but eventually it was completed and it was declared, categorically, that nothing could be added to it. The same was true of the Mishnah in its time. But although there is a certain edition of the Talmud that is considered definitive, the fact that it had reached its completion was never announced publicly and officially and that, consequently, a new era was about to begin.

The final edition of the Talmud can be compared to the stages of maturation of a living organism: like a tree, the Talmud has come to have a certain form, which is very unlikely to change substantially, although it continues to be a living being, growing and proliferating. Although the organism has taken its final form, it still produces new shoots that draw their sustenance from the roots and so continues to grow. This fact is more important for our approach to the Talmud than for its history. The principle that the Talmud is unfinished maintains a constant challenge to continue the creative work. It is up to each scholar to add to the Talmud and to contribute to the work, knowing that it will never be finally completed.

The Talmud was edited by Rev. Ashi, but it is not his work, but rather the collective effort of the entire Jewish people. Just as it has no single protagonist, no central figure who sums up all the themes and discussions, so it has continued through the centuries in a continuous creative process. In a way, this is the source of the difficulty and the fascination that its study entails. It requires of the student the ability to identify with it, but without insisting on blind faith. There are few sacred works that do not demand of the student the acceptance of certain principles. But in the case of the Talmud, the scholar is not obliged to accept all the arguments and is allowed to question or appeal at some point. Indeed, he is obligated to do so.

One of the great Talmudic commentators, the Maharsha, often ended his commentaries with the word “vedok,” continue to examine the matter. This exhortation is an explicit acceptance that the topic has not been exhausted and that there is still room for additions and new arguments to old questions. In a way, the entire Talmud is completed by this “vedok,” this command to continue searching, to ask, to see new facets to old problems. Therefore, it is our obligation to continue to examine the matter.

Prepared by Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: The Essential Talmud, by Rabbi Adin Steinzaltz

Fanaticism is excessive zeal in religious matters and is especially serious when directed toward others. Judaism, like other religions, has had to face the problem of how to achieve the balance between complete loyalty, carried out with enthusiasm and conviction, and the unbridled zeal of some who, in acting, seem to ignore the very values ​​they preach.

The Torah presents us with several examples of fanaticism. One is the story of the abduction of Dinah, where despite Jacob and his sons having made an agreement with the prince of Shechem, two of Jacob’s sons, Simon and Levi, kill the men of the town anyway. Jacob, on his deathbed, as he blesses each of his sons, condemns the action of Simon and Levy.

Kenneth Seeskin, in his book “Maimonides, A Guide for the Perplexed Today” tells us: “On the matter of fanaticism, Maimonides points out in his work entitled Eight Chapters that, according to the Torah, God does not want and in many cases does not accept extremist behavior. God does not want people to starve themselves, torment themselves, take vows of celibacy or endure deprivation. What He wants is honest dealings with one’s neighbor, moderation of passions, respect for the poor, the widow, the orphan, the sick and the stranger, rest on Shabbat and in general, a life in which we can grow to our full potential. It is true that the Torah calls for moral and religious discipline, but it never recommends discipline for discipline’s sake. The purpose of the law is not to promote unquestioning obedience to authority. It is rather to create an environment in which man can perfect his soul and the society in which he lives.”

In Leviticus 19:18 and 19:34 the Golden Rule is first expressed: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Kant himself in the 18th century said that this principle was the basis of every ethical system and that every commandment, moral judgment or action must be completely compatible with it.

Seeskin continues: “If Maimonides is correct, the divine commandments have as their goal human excellence (Guide 3:27). No commandment mandates a form of conduct that does not instill in us a correct way of thinking, that does not contribute to social harmony and that does not provide us with physical and mental health.”

Today our world is torn apart by men and women who claim that God is on their side and who, convinced of the correctness of their positions, commit physical or psychological acts of violent destruction. These individuals are driven by the certainty that they know the sacred truths and are therefore morally obligated to do everything in their power to enforce them, regardless of the suffering of others. Along with their inflated sense of righteousness, moral certainty, and ideological purity, they have a tendency to dehumanize and even demonize those who oppose them. They believe that they have the absolute truth. But this is not the case.

Prepared by Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Kenneth Seeskin, “Maimonides, A Guide for Today’s Perplexed” and articles by Rabbi Louis Jacobs and James Green

It is very difficult to study any part of the Tanach without mentioning Rashi’s commentaries. No one else has had such a profound impact on Jewish studies over the past thousand years as he did. In addition to his commentaries on the Torah, Rashi commented on most of the books of the Jewish Bible and most of the tractates of the Babylonian Talmud. His commentaries are undoubtedly the basis for understanding the Jewish Scriptures and their fundamental principles.

Rashi, the acronym for Rabbi Shlomo ben Yitzchak, lived in France in medieval times. Rashi was born in Troyes, in the province of Champagne, in 1040 and died there on July 13, 1105. In his writings he used the two basic methods of interpretation, the «peshaṭ» and the «derash.» Literal and non-literal interpretation, with the latter commonly using the Midrash. In addition to commenting on the basic texts of Judaism, he also had a house of study, although he did not live by teaching but by trading in wines.

Rashi had three daughters who married great scholars. His grandsons were the famous Tosafot, a group of scholars who, ironically, were the first to dissent from their grandfather’s commentaries on the Talmud. The main one was his grandson Yacob, known as Rabbeinu Tam. Questioning Rashi’s comments sparked a great interest in the study of the Talmud. Over time, his grandsons spread throughout the world, founding houses of study.

The first known printed Jewish text was a Rashi’s commentary on the Torah, which was printed in Reggio in 1475. Rashi used language that was not only clear but precise, always respecting the true context of the text in question as well as its meaning and reproducing all the variants of thought that existed on the subject. His fame soon spread beyond the borders of France, to Germany, Spain and the Middle East. Rashi rarely questioned the texts he commented on, but anticipating the doubts that the scholar would have, he provided the appropriate answer, using very well-chosen words. His commentaries on the Talmud have been printed in practically every edition since the first one made in Italy. Rashi was instrumental in establishing the definitive text of the Talmud by comparing different manuscripts and determining which versions were the most appropriate. In his commentaries on the Bible he examines not only the literal meaning of the text, but also uses allegories, parables and symbolism to illustrate its non-literal meaning. Breishit 1:16 says: “And God made two great lights; the greater luminary to rule the day and the lesser luminary to rule the night; he also made the stars.” The sages questioned why the Torah first speaks of two great luminaries and then speaks of one greater than the other. Rashi explains this by saying that at first they were created of the same size, but since the moon complained that there could not be two kings in the firmament at the same time, then the Creator made the moon smaller, out of complaint, but in the end He compensated for it with the stars.

This is an example of Rashi’s comments. Thanks to him, it is easier to understand the Scriptures.

Prepared by Marcos Gojman from various sources.

Like Europeans in general, Jews were deeply affected by the spread of printing. Especially in the 16th and 17^th, centuries this phenomenon had a democratizing effect. With printed books cheaper than manuscripts, more sections of the population, besides the scholars or the wealthy, could find their way to knowledge. Unlike previously, where teachers decided what and how to impart knowledge, people could now study on their own.

At the end of the medieval period, manuscripts were used as the basis for the lessons that teachers gave in the yeshivot. Each teacher presented orally the text of the manuscript together with his own interpretations, explanations and analyses. These explanations, called haghot, were noted by his students in the margins of the manuscript. When that manuscript was copied again by hand, these comments were usually incorporated into the main text. This explains why there are several versions of the same text.

But with the advent of the printing press, the author’s original text or the one edited by the editor was permanently fixed. The text had a life of its own, separate from the interpretations of the teachers. The teacher began to lose some of the authority that came with being the sole interpreter of knowledge.

In addition to broadening the audience of scholars and allowing students a bit of independence, the printed book introduced new topics and new information. Thanks to the intense activity of the publishing houses in Italy, the yeshivoth of Ashkenaz and Poland in the 16th and 17th centuries were inundated especially with books written by medieval Sephardic teachers, to which they had very limited access. Maimonides, Nachmanides, Saadia Gaon and many others could now be studied directly and in depth. The teachers themselves had to consider more authors when presenting their classes. They now had greater access to philosophy and to the interpretation of the Bible and the Midrashim.

Opinions against the indiscriminate use of printed books soon arose. In April 1559, the rabbi of Poznan, Aaron Land, wrote a sermon attacking the openness to printed texts. Incredibly, the books that this group of rabbis considered a danger to Judaism were not about philosophy, but about Halacha, such as the new code recently presented by Joseph Karo, the Shuljan Aruch. However, their arguments for opposing it had a certain logic. The new canon that the printing press was imposing implied a fixed text, which did not admit modifications at the time of oral transmission. The printing press could put Jewish law in the hands of novices who read these texts and pretended to know how to apply them. It was like having a recipe book that anyone could use. They were opposed to there being a single rabbi or a single code that would resolve each situation a priori. They said that the law should be interpreted in a particular way in each case, based on the text of the Talmud and not with general formulas. The printing press had its pros and cons.

Prepared by Marcos Gojman

Bibliography: Innovative tradition, Jewish Culture in the Polish Lithuanian Commonwealth, by Moshe Rosman.

In 11th century Germany, Jewish merchants would travel for their profession to Muslim Spain, North Africa or the East and would be away for years, leaving their wives and children without support and sometimes with only the support of the wife’s parents. It even happened that men would marry for the second time in one of those distant lands and start a second family.

Since biblical times there was no prohibition on polygamy. Polygamous Jewish marriages existed among Jews living in Muslim lands, where men were allowed to have up to four wives. But in the 11th century a series of takanot, edicts, were promulgated to protect women. Gershom ben Judah, a rabbi from Mainz, stipulated that a husband could not be away for more than 18 months and upon his return he had to remain at home for at least another six months. He also decreed that although men are the ones who initiate the divorce process, women had to agree to divorce. Previously, Halacha, based on verses 24:1 and 24:3 of Deuteronomy, assigned a passive role to women. Their opinion did not matter. Rabbeinu Gershom introduced the revolutionary idea that women had to agree. This condition was stipulated because some husbands simply paid their wives the amount stipulated in the ketubah in order to be able to divorce and that was it. This takanah originally only applied in Mainz, but by the middle of the century it had spread to northern France, England and all of Germany.

This rule prevented the husband of simply sending the divorce papers and thus solving the problem, when the wife discovered that he had a second family. From this takanah onwards, the husband could not divorce the first wife if she did not agree. The takanah practically prohibited having more than one wife. If someone wanted to suspend the effect of the edict and divorce without the wife’s consent, the takanah stipulated that 100 sages were required to agree for the husband to be able to divorce.

The rabbinical prohibition against bigamy dates back to the early 11th century. Rabbeinu Gershom ben Judah of Metz prohibited bigamy or polygamy under penalty of excommunication, surely influenced by the norm of monogamy practiced in Christian Europe. His decree was accepted without opposition by French and German Jews in particular. The prohibition of polygamy and the need for both parties to agree in order to divorce created a paradigm shift in the life of European Jews. With this, they could no longer have one in every port.

Prepared by Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: A Jewish – Christian Symbiosis, the culture of Early Ashkenaz by Ivan G. Marcus.

Rabbi David Hartman, in his book “From Defender to Critic,” comments that from a religious point of view, the creation of the Universe and the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai are undoubtedly the two most significant moments described in the Torah. Both imply the fact that God spoke. His Word created the Universe from nothing, and His Word, in giving us the Torah, also constituted the Sinai Covenant. However, these two events are very different from each other: the first can be represented as the speech of an artist and the second as the speech of a teacher. On the one hand, we have God the Creator and on the other, God the Teacher.

The artist, when creating something, is not concerned about whether others understand what he is doing. What he needs is to give vent to his creative impetus. Picasso, Van Gogh or Mondrian, when they painted, were not thinking about whether people would understand their work; what they wanted was to get out what they had inside. His speech is a monologue.

On the other hand, the teacher’s speech seeks to communicate with the other, what he seeks is for his student to understand him. And when speaking he thinks of the other, so that his message fulfills the objective of guiding and persuading. The good teacher takes into account who his «student» is and his ability to understand. It is not a monologue, but a dialogue.

Using these two models we can see that Creation reflects the model of the artist, where divine speech is a monologue. On the other hand, the Covenant at Sinai reflects a speech that is directed to an audience in order to influence and guide it. In Creation, humanity plays no role; at Sinai it plays the role of the listener, of the one who receives the message. The speech at Sinai has the objective of having the other participate in the dialogue.

And the Creator’s speech at Sinai takes into account who he is speaking to. He is not speaking to platonically perfect beings. The Torah accepts that dialogue occurs between divine aspiration and human imperfection. The Torah is not a heavenly law directed at perfect beings. The Torah is an answer to what man is, a being who has passions and jealousy, who steals from others or who desires the neighbor’s wife.

Our sages understood this and reflected it in the Talmud. The first Mishnah that many people study deals with the problem of two people who have a garment in their hands and both say: “It’s mine!” Perhaps the Mishnah should be rewritten and the two characters should say: “No, please, keep it for yourself.” But the sages knew that this ideal world does not exist. What exists is the world of conflict and scarcity.

On the one hand we can contemplate the beauty of the universe. The Artist God achieved his goal. But on the other hand we must continue learning from the Master God. Because his lesson is not over yet.

By Marcos Gojman

Bibliography: David Hartman “From Defender to Critic”,

In the 7th and 8th centuries, the Arabs conquered the Persian Empire, the territories in Asia and North Africa that were part of the Byzantine Empire, and finally the rest of North Africa and the Iberian Peninsula. Most of these territories, with the exception of Spain and Sicily, have remained within Islam to this day. At that time, the Jews in the Muslim world were a prosperous community, not much persecuted, economically integrated into their environment, with the self-confidence to adapt to internal and external factors, without fear of assimilating into the world around them.

The strongest Jewish institutions in the Arab Empire at that time were the yeshivot, two in Babylon and one in Eretz Israel. Rabbis were trained there to serve as community administrators, judges, and religious authorities. At first, each of these yeshivot had its own sphere of influence, but in the end, those of the former Persian Empire took over from those of Eretz Israel. Their authority was not only legal but also administrative, as they appointed the heads of each community from among their students. These were called “Nagid” and the heads of the yeshivot, “Gaon.”

What was taught most in the Babylonian academies was religious law based on the Talmud Babli, which took over from the Talmud Jerusalem. The prayer books used throughout the Jewish world also came from these academies. The rabbis of Babylon and those of Eretz Israel recognized each other as religious authorities, however, there were groups that opposed the authority of the Gaon and in general all of Rabbinic Judaism, such as the Karaites, a sect within Judaism that denied the authority of the rabbis and the Talmud, since they only recognized the Torah as the only and true foundation of Judaism.

One of the most influential gaonim was Saadiah ben Yosef (882-942), the Gaon of the Sura yeshivah. Saadiah Gaon left us many writings. He managed to impose the yeshivoth of Babylon over those of Eretz Israel and strongly fought the Karaites, who sought to undermine the authority of the rabbis. In the intellectual sphere, his work represents almost a complete reorganization of Jewish religious knowledge, influenced by the great scholars of Islam.

After Saadiah, the Jewish community in Babylon began to decline and the centers of learning moved to other areas of the Arab empire, such as the Iberian Peninsula, North Africa and Egypt. Great scholars emerged in all three places. Maimonides was one of them.

The Islamic conquerors brought the Arabic language with them. The conquered populations adopted Arabic as their everyday language. The Jews were no exception and used it both to communicate with their Muslim neighbors and to write exceptional scholarly works. For them, speaking and writing in Arabic was not “Chinese.”

By Marcos Gojman

Bibliography: “Merchants and Intellectuals, Rabbis and Poets: Judeo Arabic Culture in the Golden Age of Islam” by Raymond P. Scheindlin.