{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_6971/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_6971","id":"gutenberg_6971","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6971","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Judaism"],"text":"This eBook produced by: Distributed Proofreaders, John Williams,\nand David Starner\n\n\n\n\nJUDAISM\n\nBy\nISRAEL ABRAHAMS, M.A.\n\nREADER IN TALMUDIC AND RABBINIC LITERATURE\n\nUNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE\n\n\n\nFOREWORD\n\nThe writer has attempted in this volume to take up a few of the most\ncharacteristic points in Jewish doctrine and practice, and to explain\nsome of the various phases through which they have passed, since the\nfirst centuries of the Christian era.\n\nThe presentation is probably much less detached than is the case\nwith other volumes in this series. But the difference was scarcely\navoidable. The writer was not expounding a religious system which has\nno relation to his own life. On the contrary, the writer is himself a\nJew, and thus is deeply concerned personally in the matters discussed\nin the book.\n\nThe reader must be warned to keep this fact in mind throughout. On the one\nhand, the book must suffer a loss of objectivity; but, on the other hand,\nthere may be some compensating gain of intensity. The author trusts,\nat all events, that, though he has not written with indifference, he\nhas escaped the pitfall of undue partiality.\n\nI. A.\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n   I. THE LEGACY FROM THE PAST\n\n  II. RELIGION AS LAW\n\n III. ARTICLES OF FAITH\n\n  IV. SOME CONCEPTS OF JUDAISM\n\n   V. SOME OBSERVANCES OF JUDAISM\n\n  VI. JEWISH MYSTICISM\n\n VII. ESCHATOLOGY\n\nVIII. THE SURVIVAL OF JUDAISM\n\n      SELECTED LIST OF BOOKS ON JUDAISM\n\n\n\n\nJUDAISM\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE LEGACY FROM THE PAST\n\n\nThe aim of this little book is to present in brief outline some of the\nleading conceptions of the religion familiar since the Christian Era\nunder the name Judaism.\n\nThe word 'Judaism' occurs for the first time at about 100 B.C., in the\nGraeco-Jewish literature. In the second book of the Maccabees (ii. 21,\nviii. 1), 'Judaism' signifies the religion of the Jews as contrasted with\nHellenism, the religion of the Greeks. In the New Testament (Gal. i. 13)\nthe same word seems to denote the Pharisaic system as an antithesis to\nthe Gentile Christianity. In Hebrew the corresponding noun never occurs\nin the Bible, and it is rare even in the Rabbinic books. When it does\nmeet us, _Jahaduth_ implies the monotheism of the Jews as opposed\nto the polytheism of the heathen.\n\nThus the term 'Judaism' did not pass through quite the same transitions\nas did the name 'Jew.' Judaism appears from the first as a religion\ntranscending tribal bounds. The 'Jew,' on the other hand, was originally\na Judaean, a member of the Southern Confederacy called in the Bible\nJudah, and by the Greeks and Romans Judaea. Soon, however, 'Jew' came\nto include what had earlier been the Northern Confederacy of Israel as\nwell, so that in the post-exilic period _Jehudi_ or 'Jew' means an\nadherent of Judaism without regard to local nationality.\n\nJudaism, then, is here taken to represent that later development of\nthe Religion of Israel which began with the reorganisation after the\nBabylonian Exile (444 B.C.), and was crystallised by the Roman Exile\n(during the first centuries of the Christian Era). The exact period\nwhich will be here seized as a starting-point is the moment when the\npeople of Israel were losing, never so far to regain, their territorial\nassociation with Palestine, and were becoming (what they have ever since\nbeen) a community as distinct from a nation. They remained, it is true,\na distinct race, and this is still in a sense true. Yet at various\nperiods a number of proselytes have been admitted, and in other ways\nthe purity of the race has been affected. At all events territorial\nnationality ceased from a date which may be roughly fixed at 135 A.D.,\nwhen the last desperate revolt under Bar-Cochba failed, and Hadrian drew\nhis Roman plough over the city of Jerusalem and the Temple area. A new\ncity with a new name arose on the ruins. The ruins afterwards reasserted\nthemselves, and Aelia Capitolina as a designation of Jerusalem is familiar\nonly to archaeologists.\n\nBut though the name of Hadrian's new city has faded, the effect of\nits foundation remained. Aelia Capitolina, with its market-places and\ntheatre, replaced the olden narrow-streeted town; a House of Venus reared\nits stately form in the north, and a Sanctuary to Jupiter covered, in the\neast, the site of the former Temple. Heathen colonists were introduced,\nand the Jew, who was to become in future centuries an alien everywhere,\nwas made by Hadrian an alien in his fatherland. For the Roman Emperor\ndenied to Jews the right of entry into Jerusalem. Thus Hadrian completed\nthe work of Titus, and Judaism was divorced from its local habitation.\nMore unreservedly than during the Babylonian Exile, Judaism in the Roman\nExile perforce became the religion of a community and not of a state;\nand Israel for the first time constituted a Church. But it was a Church\nwith no visible home. Christianity for several centuries was to have a\ncentre at Rome, Islam at Mecca. But Judaism had and has no centre at all.\n\nIt will be obvious that the aim of the present book makes it both\nsuperfluous and inappropriate to discuss the vexed problems connected with\nthe origins of the Religion of Israel, its aspects in primitive times,\nits passage through a national to an ethical monotheism, its expansion\ninto the universalism of the second Isaiah. What concerns us here is\nmerely the legacy which the Religion of Israel bequeathed to Judaism as\nwe have defined it. This legacy and the manner in which it was treasured,\nenlarged, and administered will occupy us in the rest of this book.\n\nBut this much must be premised. If the Religion of Israel passed through\nthe stages of totemism, animism, and polydemonism; if it was indebted\nto Canaanite, Kenite, Babylonian, Persian, Greek, and other foreign\ninfluences; if it experienced a stage of monolatry or henotheism (in\nwhich Israel recognised one God, but did not think of that God as the\nonly God of all men) before ethical monotheism of the universalistic\ntype was reached; if, further, all these stages and the moral and\nreligious ideas connected with each left a more or less clear mark in\nthe sacred literature of Israel; then the legacy which Judaism received\nfrom its past was a syncretism of the whole of the religious experiences\nof Israel as interpreted in the light of Israel's latest, highest, most\napproved standards. Like the Bourbon, the Jew forgets nothing; but unlike\nthe Bourbon, the Jew is always learning. The domestic stories of the\nPatriarchs were not rejected as unprofitable when Israel became deeply\nimpregnated with the monogamous teachings of writers like the author\nof the last chapter of Proverbs; the character of David was idealised\nby the spiritual associations of the Psalter, parts of which tradition\nascribed to him; the earthly life was etherialised and much of the sacred\nliterature reinterpreted in the light of an added belief in immortality;\nGod, in the early literature a tribal non-moral deity, was in the later\nliterature a righteous ruler who with Amos and Hosea loved and demanded\nrighteousness in man. Judaism took over as one indivisible body of sacred\nteachings both the early and the later literature in which these varying\nconceptions of God were enshrined; the Law was accepted as the guiding\nrule of life, the ritual of ceremony and sacrifice was treasured as a holy\nmemory, and as a memory not contradictory of the prophetic exaltation of\ninward religion but as consistent with that exaltation, as interpreting\nit, as but another aspect of Micah's enunciation of the demands of God:\n'What doth the Lord require of thee but to do justly, to love mercy,\nand to walk humbly with thy God?'\n\nJudaism, in short, included for the Jew all that had gone before. But\nfor St. Paul's attitude of hostility to the Law, but for the deep-seated\nconviction that the Pauline Christianity was a denial of the Jewish\nmonotheism, the Jew might have accepted much of the teaching of Jesus as\nan integral part of Judaism. In the realm of ideas which he conceived as\nbelonging to his tradition the Jew was not logical; he did not pick and\nchoose; he absorbed the whole. In the Jewish theology of all ages we find\nthe most obvious contradictions. There was no attempt at reconciliation\nof such contradictions; they were juxtaposed in a mechanical mixture,\nthere was no chemical compound. The Jew was always a man of moods, and\nhis religion responded to those varying phases of feeling and belief\nand action. Hence such varying judgments have been formed of him and his\nreligion. If, after the mediaeval philosophy had attempted to systematise\nJudaism, the religion remained unsystematic, it is easy to understand\nthat in the earlier centuries of the Christian Era contradictions\nbetween past and present, between different strata of religious thought,\ncaused no trouble to the Jew so long as those contradictions could be\nfitted into his general scheme of life. Though he was the product of\ndevelopment, development was an idea foreign to his conception of the\nways of God with man. And to this extent he was right. For though men's\nideas of God change, God Himself is changeless. The Jew transferred the\nchangelessness of God to men's changing ideas about him. With childlike\nnaivete he accepted all, he adopted all, and he syncretised it all as best\nhe could into the loose system on which Pharisaism grafted itself. The\nlegacy of the past thus was the past.\n\nOne element in the legacy was negative. The Temple and the Sacrificial\nsystem were gone for ever. That this must have powerfully affected\nJudaism goes without saying. Synagogue replaced Temple, prayer assumed\nthe function of sacrifice, penitence and not the blood of bulls supplied\nthe ritual of atonement. Events had prepared the way for this change and\nhad prevented it attaining the character of an upheaval. For synagogues\nhad grown up all over the land soon after the fifth century B.C.; regular\nservices of prayer with instruction in the Scriptures had been established\nlong before the Christian Era; the inward atonement had been preferred\nto, or at least associated with, the outward rite before the outward\nrite was torn away. It may be that, as Professor Burkitt has suggested,\nthe awful experiences of the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the\nTemple produced within Pharisaism a moral reformation which drove the Jew\nwithin and thus spiritualised Judaism. For undoubtedly the Pharisee of the\nGospels is by no means the Pharisee as we meet him in the Jewish books.\nThere was always a latent power and tendency in Judaism towards inward\nreligion; and it may be that this power was intensified, this tendency\nencouraged, by the loss of Temple and its Sacrificial rites.\n\nBut though the Temple had gone the Covenant remained. Not so much in\nname as in essence. We do not hear much of the Covenant in the Rabbinic\nbooks, but its spirit pervades Judaism. Of all the legacy of the past\nthe Covenant was the most inspiring element. Beginning with Abraham, the\nCovenant established a special relation between God and Abraham's seed. 'I\nhave known him, that he may command his children and his household after\nhim, that they may keep the way of the Lord to do righteousness and\njudgment' (Gen. xviii. 19). Of this Covenant, the outward sign was the\nrite of circumcision. Renewed with Moses, and followed in traditional\nopinion by the Ten Commandments, the Sinaitic Covenant was a further\nlink in the bond between God and His people. Of this Mosaic Covenant\nthe outward sign was the Sabbath. It is of no moment for our present\nargument whether Abraham and Moses were historical persons or figments\nof tradition. A Gamaliel would have as little doubted their reality as\nwould a St. Paul. And whatever Criticism may be doing with Abraham, it\nis coming more and more to see that behind the eighth-century prophets\nthere must have towered the figure of a, if not of the traditional,\nMoses; behind the prophets a, if not the, Law. Be that as it may, to the\nJew of the Christian Era, Abraham and Moses were real and the Covenant\nunalterable. By the syncretism which has been already described Jeremiah's\nNew Covenant was not regarded as new. Nor was it new; it represented\na change of stress, not of contents. When he said (Jer. xxxi. 33),\n'This is the covenant which I will make with the house of Israel, after\nthose days, saith the Lord; I will put my law in their inward parts, and\nin their heart will I write it,' Jeremiah, it has been held, was making\nChristianity possible. But he was also making Judaism possible. Here and\nnowhere else is to be found the principle which enabled Judaism to survive\nthe loss of Temple and nationality. And the New Covenant was in no sense\ninconsistent with the Old. For not only does Jeremiah proceed to add in\nthe self-same verse, 'I will be their God, and they will be my people,'\nbut the New Covenant is specifically made with the house of Judah and of\nIsrael, and it is associated with the permanence of the seed of Israel\nas a separate people and with the Divine rebuilding of Jerusalem. The\nJew had no thought of analysing these verses into the words of the true\nJeremiah and those of his editors. The point is that over and above,\nin complementary explanation of, the Abrahamic and Mosaic Covenants with\ntheir external signs, over and above the Call of the Patriarch and the\nTheophany of Sinai, was the Jeremian Covenant written in Israel's heart.\n\nThe Covenant conferred a distinction and imposed a duty. It was a bond\nbetween a gracious God and a grateful Israel. It dignified history,\nfor it interpreted history in terms of providence and purpose; it\ntransfigured virtue by making virtue service; it was the salt of life,\nfor how could present degradation demoralise, seeing that God was\nin it, to fulfil His part of the bond, to hold Israel as His jewel,\nthough Rome might despise? The Covenant made the Jew self-confident and\narrogant, but these very faults were needed to save him. It was his only\ndefence against the world's scorn. He forgot that the correlative of the\nCovenant was Isaiah's 'Covenant-People'--missionary to the Gentiles and\nthe World. He relegated his world-mission (which Christianity and Islam\nin part gloriously fulfilled) to a dim Messianic future, and was content\nif in his own present he remained faithful to his mission to himself.\n\nAbove all, the legacy from the past came to Judaism hallowed and\nhumanised by all the experience of redemption and suffering which had\nmarked Israel's course in ages past, and was to mark his course in\nages to come. The Exodus, the Exile, the Maccabean heroism, the Roman\ncatastrophe; Prophet, Wise Man, Priest and Scribe,--all had left their\ntrace. Judaism was a religion based on a book and on a tradition; but\nit was also a religion based on a unique experience. The book might\nbe misread, the tradition encumbered, but the experience was eternally\nclear and inspiring. It shone through the Roman Diaspora as it afterwards\nilluminated the Roman Ghetto, making the present tolerable by the memory\nof the past and the hope of the future.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nRELIGION AS LAW\n\n\nThe feature of Judaism which first attracts an outsider's attention, and\nwhich claims a front place in this survey, is its 'Nomism' or 'Legalism.'\nLife was placed under the control of Law. Not only morality, but religion\nalso, was codified. 'Nomism,' it has been truly said, 'has always\nformed a fundamental trait of Judaism, one of whose chief aims has ever\nbeen to mould life in all its varying relations according to the Law,\nand to make obedience to the commandments a necessity and a custom'\n(Lauterbach, _Jewish Encyclopedia_, ix. 326). Only the latest\ndevelopment of Judaism is away from this direction. Individualism is\nnowadays replacing the olden solidarity. Thus, at the Central Conference\nof American Rabbis, held in July 1906 at Indianapolis, a project to\nformulate a system of laws for modern use was promptly rejected. The\nchief modern problem in Jewish life is just this: To what extent, and\nin what manner, can Judaism still place itself under the reign of Law?\n\nBut for many centuries, certainly up to the French Revolution, Religion\nas Law was the dominant conception in Judaism. Before examining the\nvalidity of this conception a word is necessary as to the mode in which\nit expressed itself. Conduct, social and individual, moral and ritual,\nwas regulated in the minutest details. As the Dayan M. Hyamson has\nsaid, the maxim _De minimis non curat lex_ was not applicable to\nthe Jewish Law. This Law was a system of opinion and of practice and of\nfeeling in which the great principles of morality, the deepest concerns of\nspiritual religion, the genuinely essential requirements of ritual, all\nfound a prominent place. To assert that Pharisaism included the small\nand excluded the great, that it enforced rules and forgot principles,\nthat it exalted the letter and neglected the spirit, is a palpable libel.\nPharisaism was founded on God. On this foundation was erected a structure\nwhich embraced the eternal principles of religion. But the system, it\nmust be added, went far beyond this. It held that there was a right and\na wrong way of doing things in themselves trivial. Prescription ruled\nin a stupendous array of matters which other systems deliberately left to\nthe fancy, the judgment, the conscience of the individual. Law seized upon\nthe whole life, both in its inward experiences and outward manifestations.\nHarnack characterises the system harshly enough. Christianity did not add\nto Judaism, it subtracted. Expanding a famous epigram of Wellhausen's,\nHarnack admits that everything taught in the Gospels 'was also to be\nfound in the Prophets, and even in the Jewish tradition of their time. The\nPharisees themselves were in possession of it; but, unfortunately, they\nwere in possession of much else besides. With them it was weighted,\ndarkened, distorted, rendered ineffective and deprived of its force by a\nthousand things which they also held to be religious, and every whit as\nimportant as mercy and judgment. They reduced everything into one fabric;\nthe good and holy was only one woof in a broad earthly warp' (_What\nis Christianity?_ p. 47). It is necessary to qualify this judgment,\nbut it does bring out the all-pervadingness of Law in Judaism. 'And thou\nshalt speak of them when thou sittest in thine house, when thou walkest by\nthe way, when thou liest down and when thou risest up' (Deut. vi. 7). The\nWord of God was to occupy the Jew's thoughts constantly; in his daily\nemployment and during his manifold activities; when at work and when\nat rest. And as a correlative, the Law must direct this complex life,\nthe Code must authorise action or forbid it, must turn the thoughts and\nemotions in one direction and divert them from another.\n\nNothing in the history of religions can be cited as a complete parallel to\nthis. But incomplete parallels abound. A very large portion of all men's\nlives is regulated from without: by the Bible and other sacred books; by\nthe institutions and rites of religion; by the law of the land; by the\nimposed rules of accepted guides, poets, philosophers, physicians; and\nabove all by social conventions, current fashions, and popular maxims.\nOnly in the rarest case is an exceptional man the monstrosity which,\nwe are told, every Israelite was in the epoch of the Judges--a law\nunto himself.\n\nBut in Judaism, until the period of modern reform, this fact of human\nlife was not merely an unconscious truism, it was consciously admitted.\nAnd it was realised in a Code.\n\nOr rather in a series of Codes. First came the _Mishnah_, a Code\ncompiled at about the year 200 A.D., but the result of a Pharisaic\nactivity extending over more than two centuries. While Christianity was\nproducing the Gospels and the rest of the New Testament--the work in large\npart of Jews, or of men born in the circle of Judaism--Judaism in its\nother manifestation was working at the Code known as the _Mishnah_.\nThis word means 'repetition,' or 'teaching by repetition'; it was an\noral tradition reduced to writing long after much of its contents had\nbeen sifted in the discussions of the schools. In part earlier and in\npart later than the _Mishnah_ was the _Midrash_ ('inquiry,'\n'interpretation'), not a Code, but a two-fold exposition of Scripture;\nhomiletic with copious use of parable, and legalistic with an eye\nto the regulation of conduct. Then came the _Talmud_ in two\nrecensions, the Palestinian and the Babylonian, the latter completed\nabout 500 A.D. For some centuries afterwards the Geonim (heads of the\nRabbinical Universities in Persia) continued to analyse and define\nthe legal prescriptions and ritual of Judaism, adding and changing in\naccord with the needs of the day; for Tradition was a living, fluid\nthing. Then in the eleventh century Isaac of Fez (Alfasi) formulated\na guide to Talmudic Law, and about a hundred years later (1180)\nMaimonides produced his _Strong Hand_, a Code of law and custom\nwhich influenced Jewish life ever after. Other codifications were made;\nbut finally, in the sixteenth century, Joseph Caro (mystic and legalist)\ncompiled the _Table Prepared_ (_Shulchan Aruch_), which, with\nmasterly skill, collected the whole of the traditional law, arranged\nit under convenient heads in chapters and paragraphs, and carried down\nto our own day the Rabbinic conception of life. Under this Code, with\nmore or less relaxation, the great bulk of Jews still live. But the\nrevolt against it, or emancipation from it, is progressing every year,\nfor the olden Jewish conception of religion and the old Jewish theory\nof life are, as hinted above, becoming seriously undermined.\n\nNow in what precedes there has been some intentional ambiguity in\nthe use of the word Law. Much of the misunderstanding of Judaism has\narisen from this ambiguity. 'Law' is in no adequate sense what the Jews\nthemselves understood by the nomism of their religion. In modern times\nLaw and Religion tend more and more to separate, and to speak of Judaism\nas Law _eo ipso_ implies a divorce of Judaism from Religion. The\nold antithesis between letter and spirit is but a phase of the same\ncriticism. Law must specify, and the lawyer interprets Acts of Parliament\nby their letter; he refuses to be guided by the motives of the Act, he\nis concerned with what the Act distinctly formulates in set terms. In\nthis sense Judaism never was a Legal Religion. It did most assiduously\nseek to get to the underlying motives of the written laws, and all the\nexpansions of the Law were based on a desire more fully to realise the\nmeaning and intention of the written Code. In other words, the Law was\nlooked upon as the expression of the Will of God. Man was to yield to\nthat Will for two reasons. First, because God is the perfect ideal of\ngoodness. That ideal was for man to revere, and, so far as in him lay,\nto imitate. 'As I am merciful, be thou merciful; because I am gracious,\nbe thou gracious.' The 'Imitation of God' is a notion which constantly\nmeets us in Rabbinic literature. It is based on the Scriptural text:\n'Be ye holy, for I the Lord am holy.' 'God, the ideal of all morality,\nis the founder of man's moral nature.' This is Professor Lazarus'\nmodern way of putting it. But in substance it is the Jewish conception\nthrough all the ages. And there is a second reason. The Jew would not\nhave understood the possibility of any other expression of the Divine\nWill than the expression which Judaism enshrined. For though he held that\nthe Law was something imposed from without, he identified this imposed\nLaw with the law which his own moral nature posited. The Rabbis tell us\nthat certain things in the written Law could have been reached by man\nwithout the Law. The Law was in large part a correspondence to man's moral\nnature. This Rabbinic idea Lazarus sums up in the epigram: 'Moral laws,\nthen, are not laws because they are written; they are written because\nthey are laws.' The moral principle is autonomous, but its archetype is\nGod. The ultimate reason, like the highest aim of morality, should be\nin itself. The threat of punishment and the promise of reward are the\npsychologic means to secure the fulfilment of laws, never the reasons for\nthe laws, nor the motives to action. It is easy and necessary sometimes\nto praise and justify eudemonism, but, as Lazarus adds, 'Not a state to\nbe reached, not a good to be won, not an evil to be warded off, is the\nimpelling force of morality, but itself furnishes the creative impulse,\nthe supreme commanding authority' (_Ethics of Judaism_, I. chap,\nii.). And so the Rabbi of the third century B.C., Antigonos of Socho, put\nit in the memorable saying: 'Be not like servants who minister to their\nmaster upon the condition of receiving a reward; but be like servants\nwho minister to their master without the condition of receiving a reward;\nand let the Fear of heaven be upon you' (Aboth, i. 3).\n\nClearly the multiplication of rules obscures principles. The object of\ncodification, to get at the full meaning of principles, is defeated by\nits own success. For it is always easier to follow rules than to apply\nprinciples. Virtues are more attainable than virtue, characteristics than\ncharacter. And while it is false to assert that Judaism attached more\nimportance to ritual than to religion, yet, the two being placed on one\nand the same plane, it is possible to find in co-existence ritual piety\nand moral baseness. Such a combination is ugly, and people do not stop\nto think whether the baseness would be more or less if the ritual piety\nwere absent instead of present. But it is the fact that on the whole\nthe Jewish codification of religion did not produce the evil results\npossible or even likely to accrue. The Jew was always distinguished for\nhis domestic virtues, his purity of life, his sobriety, his charity,\nhis devotion. These were the immediate consequence of his Law-abiding\ndisposition and theory. Perhaps there was some lack of enthusiasm,\nsomething too much of the temperate. But the facts of life always\nbrought their corrective. Martyrdom was the means by which the Jewish\nconsciousness was kept at a glowing heat. And as the Jew was constantly\ncalled upon to die for his religion, the religion ennobled the life\nwhich was willingly surrendered for the religion. The Messianic Hope\nwas vitalised by persecution. The Jew, devotee of practical ideals,\nbecame also a dreamer. His visions of God were ever present to remind\nhim that the law which he codified was to him the Law of God.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nARTICLES OF FAITH\n\n\nIt is often said that Judaism left belief free while it put conduct\ninto fetters. Neither half of this assertion is strictly true. Belief\nwas not free altogether; conduct was not altogether controlled. In the\n_Mishnah_ (Sanhedrin, x. 1) certain classes of unbelievers are\npronounced portionless in the world to come. Among those excluded\nfrom Paradise are men who deny the resurrection of the dead, and men\nwho refuse assent to the doctrine of the Divine origin of the Torah,\nor Scripture. Thus it cannot be said that belief was, in the Rabbinic\nsystem, perfectly free. Equally inaccurate is the assertion that conduct\nwas entirely a matter of prescription. Not only were men praised for\nworks of supererogation, performance of more than the Law required; not\nonly were there important divergences in the practical rules of conduct\nformulated by the various Rabbis; but there was a whole class of actions\ndescribed as 'matters given over to the heart,' delicate refinements\nof conduct which the law left untouched and were a concern exclusively\nof the feeling, the private judgment of the individual. The right of\nprivate judgment was passionately insisted on in matters of conduct, as\nwhen Rabbi Joshua refused to be guided as to his practical decisions by\nthe Daughter of the Voice, the supernatural utterance from on high. The\nLaw, he contended, is on earth, not in heaven; and man must be his own\njudge in applying the Law to his own life and time. And, the Talmud adds,\nGod Himself announced that Rabbi Joshua was right.\n\nThus there was neither complete fluidity of doctrine nor complete rigidity\nof conduct. There was freedom of conduct within the law, and there was\nlaw within freedom of doctrine.\n\nBut Dr. Emil Hirsch puts the case fairly when he says: 'In the\nsame sense as Christianity or Islam, Judaism cannot be credited with\nArticles of Faith. Many attempts have indeed been made at systematising\nand reducing to a fixed phraseology and sequence the contents of the\nJewish religion. But these have always lacked the one essential element:\nauthoritative sanction on the part of a supreme ecclesiastical body'\n(_Jewish Encyclopedia_, ii. 148).\n\nSince the epoch of the Great Sanhedrin, there has been no central\nauthority recognised throughout Jewry. The Jewish organisation has long\nbeen congregational. Since the fourth century there has been no body\nwith any jurisdiction over the mass of Jews. At that date the Calendar\nwas fixed by astronomical calculations. The Patriarch, in Babylon,\nthereby voluntarily abandoned the hold he had previously had over the\nscattered Jews, for it was no longer the fiat of the Patriarch that\nsettled the dates of the Festivals. While there was something like a\ncentral authority, the Canon of Scripture had been fixed by Synods, but\nthere is no record of any attempt to promulgate articles of faith. During\nthe revolt against Hadrian an Assembly of Rabbis was held at Lydda. It was\nthen decided that a Jew must yield his life rather than accept safety from\nthe Roman power, if such conformity involved one of the three offences:\nidolatry, murder, and unchastity (including, incest and adultery). But\nwhile this decision throws a favourable light on the Rabbinic theory of\nlife, it can in no sense be called a fixation of a creed. There were\nnumerous synods in the Middle Ages, but they invariably dealt with\npractical morals or with the problems which arose from time to time in\nregard to the relations between Jews and their Christian neighbours. It is\ntrue that we occasionally read of excommunications for heresy. But in\nthe case, for instance, of Spinoza, the Amsterdam Synagogue was much\nmore anxious to dissociate itself from the heresies of Spinoza than to\ncompel Spinoza to conform to the beliefs of the Synagogue. And though\nthis power of excommunication might have been employed by the mediaeval\nRabbis to enforce the acceptance of a creed, in point of fact no such\nstep was ever taken.\n\nSince the time of Moses Mendelssohn (1728-1786), the chief Jewish\ndogma has been that Judaism has no dogmas. In the sense assigned above\nthis is clearly true. Dogmas imposed by an authority able and willing\nto enforce conformity and punish dissent are non-existent in Judaism.\nIn olden times membership of the religion of Judaism was almost entirely\na question of birth and race, not of confession. Proselytes were admitted\nby circumcision and baptism, and nothing beyond an acceptance of the\nUnity of God and the abjuration of idolatry is even now required by way\nof profession from a proselyte. At the same time the earliest passage\nput into the public liturgy was the Shema' (Deuteronomy vi. 4-9), in\nwhich the unity of God and the duty to love God are expressed. The Ten\nCommandments were also recited daily in the Temple. It is instructive to\nnote the reason given for the subsequent removal of the Decalogue from the\ndaily liturgy. It was feared that some might assume that the Decalogue\ncomprised the whole of the binding law. Hence the prominent position\ngiven to them in the Temple service was no longer assigned to the Ten\nCommandments in the ritual of the Synagogue. In modern times, however,\nthere is a growing practice of reading the Decalogue every Sabbath day.\n\nWhat we do find in Pharisaic Judaism, and this is the real answer to\nHarnack (_supra_, p. 15), is an attempt to reduce the whole Law\nto certain fundamental principles. When a would-be proselyte accosted\nHillel, in the reign of Herod, with the demand that the Rabbi should\ncommunicate the whole of Judaism while the questioner stood on one foot,\nHillel made the famous reply: 'What thou hatest do unto no man; that\nis the whole Law, the rest is commentary.' This recalls another famous\nsummarisation, that given by Jesus later on in the Gospel. A little\nmore than a century later, Akiba said that the command to love one's\nneighbour is the fundamental principle of the Law. Ben Azzai chose for\nthis distinction another sentence: 'This is the book of the generations\nof man,' implying the equality of all men in regard to the love borne by\nGod for His creatures. Another Rabbi, Simlai (third century), has this\nremarkable saying: 'Six hundred and thirteen precepts were imparted unto\nMoses, three hundred and sixty-five negative (in correspondence with\nthe days of the solar year), and two hundred and forty-eight positive\n(in correspondence with the number of a man's limbs). David came and\nestablished them as eleven, as it is written: A psalm of David--Lord\nwho shall sojourn in Thy tent, who shall dwell in Thy holy mountain?\n(i) He that walketh uprightly and (ii) worketh righteousness and (iii)\nspeaketh the truth in his heart. (iv) He that backbiteth not with his\ntongue, (v) nor doeth evil to his neighbour, (vi) nor taketh up a reproach\nagainst another; (vii) in whose eyes a reprobate is despised, (viii) but\nwho honoureth them that fear the Lord. (ix) He that sweareth to his own\nhurt, and changeth not; (x) He that putteth not out his money to usury,\n(xi) nor taketh a bribe against the innocent. He that doeth these things\nshall never be moved. Thus David reduced the Law to eleven principles.\nThen came Micah and reduced them to three, as it is written: 'What doth\nthe Lord require of thee but (i) to do justice, (ii) to love mercy, and\n(iii) to walk humbly with thy God? Then came Habbakuk and made the whole\nLaw stand on one fundamental idea, 'The righteous man liveth by his faith'\n(Makkoth, 23 b).\n\nThis desire to find one or a few general fundamental passages on\nwhich the whole Scripture might be seen to base itself is, however,\nfar removed from anything of the nature of the Christian Creeds or\nof the Mohammedan Kalimah. And when we remember that the Pharisees\nand Sadducees differed on questions of doctrine (such as the belief in\nimmortality held by the former and rejected by the latter), it becomes\nclear that the absence of a formal declaration of faith must have been\ndeliberate. The most that was done was to introduce into the Liturgy a\nparagraph in which the assembled worshippers declared their assent to\nthe truth and permanent validity of the Word of God. After the Shema'\n(whose contents are summarised above), the assembled worshippers daily\nrecited a passage in which they said (and still say): 'True and firm is\nthis Thy word unto us for ever.... True is it that Thou art indeed our\nGod ... and there is none beside Thee.'\n\nAfter all, the difference between Pharisee and Sadducee was political\nrather than theological. It was not till Judaism came into contact,\ncontact alike of attraction and repulsion, with other systems that a\ndesire or a need for formulating Articles of Faith was felt. Philo, coming\nunder the Hellenic spirit, was thus the first to make the attempt. In\nthe last chapter of the tract on the Creation (_De Opifico_, lxi.),\nPhilo enumerates what he terms the five most beautiful lessons, superior\nto all others. These are--(i) God is; (ii) God is One; (iii) the World\nwas created (and is not eternal); (iv) the World is one, like unto God in\nsingleness; and (v) God exercises a continual providence for the benefit\nof the world, caring for His creatures like a parent for his children.\n\nPhilo's lead found no imitators. It was not for many centuries that\ntwo causes led the Synagogue to formulate a creed. And even then it\nwas not the Synagogue as a body that acted, nor was it a creed that\nresulted. The first cause was the rise of sects within the Synagogue. Of\nthese sects the most important was that of the Karaites or Scripturalists.\nRejecting tradition, the Karaites expounded their beliefs both as a\njustification of themselves against the Traditionalists and possibly as\na remedy against their own tendency to divide within their own order\ninto smaller sects. In the middle of the twelfth century the Karaite\nJudah Hadassi of Constantinople arranged the whole Pentateuch under\nthe headings of the Decalogue, much as Philo had done long before.\nAnd so he formulates ten dogmas of Judaism. These are--(i) Creation\n(as opposed to the Aristotelian doctrine of the eternity of the world);\n(ii) the existence of God; (iii) God is one and incorporeal; (iv) Moses\nand the other canonical prophets were called by God; (v) the Law is the\nWord of God, it is complete, and the Oral Tradition was unnecessary;\n(vi) the Law must be read by the Jew in the original Hebrew; (vii) the\nTemple of Jerusalem was the place chosen by God for His manifestation;\n(viii) the Resurrection of the dead; (ix) the Coming of Messiah, son of\nDavid; (x) Final Judgment and Retribution.\n\nWithin the main body of the Synagogue we have to wait for the same\nmoment for a formulation of Articles of Faith. Maimonides (1135-1204)\nwas a younger contemporary of Hadassi; he it was that drew up the one\nand only set of principles which have ever enjoyed wide authority in\nJudaism. Before Maimonides there had been some inclination towards\na creed, but he is the first to put one into set terms. Maimonides\nwas much influenced by Aristotelianism, and this gave him an impulse\ntowards a logical statement of the tenets of Judaism. On the other side,\nhe was deeply concerned by the criticism of Judaism from the side of\nMohammedan theologians. The latter contended, in particular, that the\nbiblical anthropomorphisms were destructive of a belief in the pure\nspirituality of God. Hence Maimonides devoted much of his great treatise,\n_Guide for the Perplexed_, to a philosophical allegorisation of the\nhuman terms applied to God in the Hebrew Bible. In his Commentary on the\n_Mishnah_ (Sanhedrin, Introduction to Chelek), Maimonides declares\n'The roots of our law and its fundamental principles are thirteen.' These\nare--(i) Belief in the existence of God, the Creator; (ii) belief in\nthe unity of God; (iii) belief in the incorporeality of God; (iv) belief\nin the priority and eternity of God; (v) belief that to God and to God\nalone worship must be offered; (vi) belief in prophecy; (vii) belief that\nMoses was the greatest of all prophets; (viii) belief that the Law was\nrevealed from heaven; (ix) belief that the Law will never be abrogated,\nand that no other Law will ever come from God; (x) belief that God knows\nthe works of men; (xi) belief in reward and punishment; (xii) belief in\nthe coming of the Messiah; (xiii) belief in the resurrection of the dead.'\n\nNow here we have for the first time a set of beliefs which were a test of\nJudaism. Maimonides leaves no doubt as to his meaning. For he concluded\nby saying: 'When all these principles of faith are in the safe keeping\nof a man, and his conviction of them is well established, he then enters\ninto the general body of Israel'; and, on the other hand: 'When, however,\na man breaks away from any one of these fundamental principles of belief,\nthen of him it is said that he has gone out of the general body of\nIsrael and he denies the root-truths of Judaism.' This formulation of\na dogmatic test was never confirmed by any body of Rabbis. No Jew was\never excommunicated for declaring his dissent from these articles. No\nJew was ever called upon formally to express his assent to them. But, as\nProfessor Schechter justly writes: 'Among the Maimonists we may probably\ninclude the great majority of Jews, who accepted the Thirteen Articles\nwithout further question. Maimonides must have filled up a great gap\nin Jewish theology, a gap, moreover, the existence of which was very\ngenerally perceived. A century had hardly lapsed before the Thirteen\nArticles had become a theme for the poets of the Synagogue. And almost\nevery country can show a poem or a prayer founded on these Articles'\n(_Studies in Judaism_, p. 301).\n\nYet the opposition to the Articles was both impressive and\npersistent. Some denied altogether the admissibility of Articles,\nclaiming that the whole Law and nothing but the Law was the Charter of\nJudaism. Others criticised the Maimonist Articles in detail. Certainly\nthey are far from logically drawn up, some paragraphs being dictated\nby opposition to Islam rather than by positive needs of the Jewish\nposition. A favourite condensation was a smaller list of three Articles:\n(i) Existence of God; (ii) Revelation; and (iii) Retribution. These three\nArticles are usually associated with the name of Joseph Albo (1380-1444),\nthough they are somewhat older. There is no doubt but that these Articles\nfound, in recent centuries, more acceptance than the Maimonist Thirteen,\nthough the latter still hold their place in the orthodox Jewish Prayer\nBooks. They may be found in the _Authorised Daily Prayer Book_,\ned. Singer, p. 89.\n\nMoses Mendelssohn (1728-1786), who strongly maintained that Judaism\nis a life, not a creed, made the practice of formulating Articles of\nJudaism unfashionable. But not for long. More and more, Judaic ritual has\nfallen into disregard since the French Revolution. Judaism has therefore\ntended to express itself as a system of doctrines rather than as a body\nof practices. And there was a special reason why the Maimonist Articles\ncould not remain. Reference is not meant to the fact that many Jews came\nto doubt the Mosaic origin of the Pentateuch. But there were lacking in\nthe Maimonist Creed all emotional elements. On the one hand, Maimonides,\nrationalist and anti-Mystic as he was, makes no allowance for the doctrine\nof the Immanence of God. Then, owing to his unemotional nature, he laid\nno stress on all the affecting and moving associations of the belief in\nthe Mission of Israel as the Chosen People. Before Maimonides, if there\nhad been one dogma of Judaism at all, it was the Election of Israel.\nJehuda Halevi, the greatest of the Hebrew poets of the Middle Ages,\nhad at the beginning of the twelfth century, some half century before\nMaimonides, given expression to this in the famous epigram: 'Israel is\nto the nations like the heart to the limbs.'\n\nThough, however, the Creed of Maimonides has no position of authority\nin the Synagogue, modern times have witnessed no successful intrusion of\na rival. Most writers of treatises on Judaism prefer to describe rather\nthan to define the religious tenets of the faith. In America there have\nbeen several suggestions of a Creed. Articles of faith have been there\nchiefly formulated for the reception of proselytes. This purpose is a\nnatural cause of precision in belief; for while one who already stands\nwithin by birth or race is rarely called upon to justify his faith,\nthe newcomer is under the necessity to do so. In the pre-Christian\nJudaism it is probable that there was a Catechism or short manual of\ninstruction called in Greek the _Didache_, in which the Golden Rule\nin Hillel's negative form and the Decalogue occupied a front place. Thus\nwe find, too, modern American Jews formulating Articles of Faith as a\nProselyte Confession. In 1896 the Central Conference of American Rabbis\nadopted the following five principles for such a Confession: (i) God\nthe Only One; (ii) Man His Image; (iii) Immortality of the Soul; (iv)\nRetribution; (v) Israel's Mission. During the past few months a tract,\nentitled 'Essentials of Judaism,' has been issued in London by the Jewish\nReligious Union. The author, N. S. Joseph, is careful to explain that he\nis not putting forth these principles as 'dogmatic Articles of Faith,'\nand that they are solely 'suggestive outlines of belief which may be\ngradually imparted to children, the outlines being afterwards filled\nup by the teacher. But the eight paragraphs of these Essentials are at\nonce so ably compiled and so informing as to the modern trend of Jewish\nbelief that they will be here cited without comment.\n\nAccording then to this presentation, the Essentials of Judaism are: '(i)\nThere is One Eternal God, who is the sole Origin of all things and forces,\nand the Source of all living souls. He rules the universe with justice,\nrighteousness, mercy, and love. (ii) Our souls, emanating from God, are\nimmortal, and will return to Him when our life on earth ceases. While\nwe are here, our souls can hold direct communion with God in prayer and\npraise, and in silent contemplation and admiration of His works. (iii)\nOur souls are directly responsible to God for the work of our life on\nearth. God, being All-merciful, will judge us with loving-kindness, and\nbeing All-just, will allow for our imperfections; and we, therefore,\nneed no mediator and no vicarious atonement to ensure the future\nwelfare of our souls. (iv) God is the One and only God. He is Eternal\nand Omnipresent. He not only pervades the entire world, but is also\nwithin us; and His Spirit helps and leads us towards goodness and truth.\n(v) Duty should be the moving force of our life; and the thought that God\nis always in us and about us should incite us to lead good and beneficent\nlives, showing our love of God by loving our fellow-creatures, and working\nfor their happiness and betterment with all our might. (vi) In various\nbygone times God has revealed, and even in our own days continues to\nreveal to us, something of His nature and will, by inspiring the best\nand wisest minds with noble thoughts and new ideas, to be conveyed to\nus in words, so that this world may constantly improve and grow happier\nand better. (vii) Long ago some of our forefathers were thus inspired,\nand they handed down to us--and through us to the world at large--some\nof God's choicest gifts, the principles of Religion and Morality, now\nrecorded in our Bible; and these spiritual gifts of God have gradually\nspread among our fellow-men, so that much of our religion and of its\nmorality has been adopted by them. (viii) Till the main religious and\nmoral principles of Judaism have been accepted by the world at large,\nthe maintenance by the Jews of a separate corporate existence is a\nreligious duty incumbent upon them. They are the \"witnesses\" of God,\nand they must adhere to their religion, showing forth its truth and\nexcellence to all mankind. This has been and is and will continue to\nbe their mission. Their public worship and private virtues must be the\noutward manifestation of the fulfilment of that mission.'\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nSOME CONCEPTS OF JUDAISM\n\n\nThough there are no accepted Articles of Faith in Judaism, there is\na complete consensus of opinion that Monotheism is the basis of the\nreligion. The Unity of God was more than a doctrine. It was associated\nwith the noblest hope of Israel, with Israel's Mission to the world.\n\nThe Unity of God was even more than a hope. It was an inspiration,\na passion. For it the Jews 'passed through fire and water,' enduring\ntribulation and death for the sake of the Unity. All the Jewish\nmartyrologies are written round this text.\n\nIn one passage the Talmud actually defines the Jew as the\nMonotheist. 'Whoever repudiates the service of other gods is called a Jew'\n(Megillah, 13 a).\n\nBut this all-pervading doctrine of the Unity did not reach Judaism as an\nabstract philosophical truth. Hence, though the belief in the Unity of\nGod, associated as it was with the belief in the Spirituality of God,\nmight have been expected to lead to the conception of an Absolute,\nTranscendent Being such as we meet in Islam, it did not so lead in\nJudaism. Judaism never attempted to define God at all. Maimonides\nput the seal on the reluctance of Jewish theology to go beyond, or\nto fall short of, what historic Judaism delivered. Judaism wavers\nbetween the two opposite conceptions: absolute transcendentalism and\nabsolute pantheism. Sometimes Judaism speaks with the voice of Isaiah;\nsometimes with the voice of Spinoza. It found the bridge in the Psalter.\n'The Lord is nigh unto all that call upon Him.' The Law brought heaven\nto earth; Prayer raised earth to heaven.\n\nAs was remarked above, Jewish theology never shrank from inconsistency. It\naccepted at once God's foreknowledge and man's free-will. So it described\nthe knowledge of God as far above man's reach; yet it felt God near,\nsympathetic, a Father and Friend. The liturgy of the Synagogue has been\nwell termed a 'precipitate' of all the Jewish teaching as to God. He is\nthe Great, the Mighty, the Awful, the Most High, the King. But He is also\nthe Father, Helper, Deliverer, the Peace-Maker, Supporter of the weak,\nHealer of the sick. All human knowledge is a direct manifestation of\nHis grace. Man's body, with all its animal functions, is His handiwork.\nHe created joy, and made the Bridegroom and the Bride. He formed the fruit\nof the Vine, and is the Source of all the lawful pleasures of men. He is\nthe Righteous Judge; but He remembers that man is dust, He pardons sins,\nand His loving-kindness is over all. He is unchangeable, yet repentance\ncan avert the evil decree. He is in heaven, yet he puts the love and\nfear of Him into man's very heart. He breathed the Soul into man, and\nis faithful to those that sleep in the grave. He is the Reviver of the\ndead. He is Holy, and He sanctified Israel with His commandments. And\nthe whole is pervaded with the thought of God's Unity and the consequent\nunity of mankind. Here again we meet the curious syncretism which we\nhave so often observed. God is in a special sense the God of Israel;\nbut He is unequivocally, too, the God of all flesh.\n\nMoses Mendelssohn said that, when in the company of a Christian friend,\nhe never felt the remotest desire to convert him to Judaism. This is the\nexplanation of the effect on the Jews of the combined belief in God as\nthe God of Israel, and also as the God of all men. At one time Judaism\nwas certainly a missionary religion. But after the loss of nationality\nthis quality was practically dormant. Belief was not necessary to\nsalvation. 'The pious of all nations have a part in the world to come'\nmay have been but a casual utterance of an ancient Rabbi, but it rose\ninto a settled conviction of later Judaism. Moreover, it was dangerous\nfor Jews to attempt any religious propaganda in the Middle Ages, and\nthus the pressure of fact came to the support of theory. Mendelssohn\neven held that the same religion was not necessarily good for all,\njust as the same form of government may not fit equally all the various\nnational idiosyncrasies. Judaism for the Jew may almost be claimed as\na principle of orthodox Judaism. It says to the outsider: You may come\nin if you will, but we warn you what it means. At all events it does\nnot seek to attract. It is not strange that this attitude has led to\nunpopularity. The reason of this resentment is not that men wish to be\ninvited to join Judaism; it lies rather in the sense that the absence\nof invitation implies an arrogant reserve. To some extent this is the\ncase. The old-fashioned Jew is inclined to think himself superior to\nother men. Such a thought has its pathos.\n\nOn the other hand, the national as contrasted with the universal aspect\nof Judaism is on the wane. Many Jewish liturgies have, for instance,\neliminated the prayers for the restoration of sacrifices; and several have\nremoved or spiritualised the petitions for the recovery of the Jewish\nnationality. Modern reformed Judaism is a universalistic Judaism. It\nlays stress on the function of Israel, the Servant, as a 'Light to the\nNations.' It tends to eliminate those ceremonies and beliefs which are\nless compatible with a universal than with, a racial religion. Modern\nZionism is not a real reaction against this tendency. For Zionism is\neither non-religious or, if religious, brings to the front what has\nalways been a corrective to the nationalism of orthodox Judaism. For\nthe separation of Israel has ever been a means to an end; never an end\nin itself. Often the end has been forgotten in the means, but never for\nlong. The end of Israel's separateness is the good of the world. And\nthe religious as distinct from the merely political Zionist who thinks\nthat Judaism would gain by a return to Palestine is just the one who also\nthinks that return is a necessary preliminary to the Messianic Age, when\nall men shall flow unto Zion and seek God there. Reformed Jews would have\nto be Zionists also in this sense, were it not that many of them no longer\nshare the belief in the national aspects of the prophecies as to Israel's\nfuture. These may believe that the world may become full of the knowledge\nof God without any antecedent withdrawal of Israel from the world.\n\nIf Judaism as a system of doctrine is necessarily syncretistic in\nits conception of God, then we may expect the same syncretism in its\ntheory of God's relation to man. It must be said at once that the term\n'theory' is ill-chosen. It is laid to the charge of Judaism that it has no\n'theory' of Sin. This is true. If virtue and righteousness are obedience,\nthen disobedience is both vice and sin. No further theory was required\nor possible. Atonement is reversion to obedience. Now it was said above\nthat the doctrine of the Unity did not reach Judaism as a philosophical\ntruth exactly defined and apprehended. It came as the result of a long\nhistoric groping for the truth, and when it came it brought with it olden\nanthropomorphic wrappings and tribal adornments which were not easily to\nbe discarded, if they ever were entirely discarded. So with the relation\nof God to man in general and Israel in particular. The unchangeable\nGod is not susceptible to the change implied in Atonement. But history\npresented to the Jew examples of what he could not otherwise interpret\nthan as reconciliation between God the Father and Israel the wayward\nbut always at heart loyal Son. And this interpretation was true to the\ninward experience. Man's repentance was correlated with the sorrow of\nGod. God as well as man repented, the former of punishment, the latter\nof sin. The process of atonement included contrition, confession, and\nchange of life. Undoubtedly Jewish theology lays the greatest stress on\nthe active stage of the process. Jewish moralists use the word Teshubah\n(literally 'turning' or 'return,' _i.e._ a turning from evil or\na return to God) chiefly to mean a change of life. Sin is evil life,\natonement is the better life. The better life was attained by fasting,\nprayer, and charity, by a purification of the heart and a cleansing of the\nhands. The ritual side of atonement was seriously weakened by the loss\nof the Temple. The sacrificial atonement was gone. Nothing replaced\nit ritually. Hence the Jewish tendency towards a practical religion\nwas strengthened by its almost enforced stress in atonement on moral\nbetterment. But this moral betterment depended on a renewed communion\nwith God. Sin estranged, atonement brought near. Jewish theology regarded\nsin as a triumph of the _Yetser Ha-ra_ (the 'evil inclination')\nover the _Yetser Ha-tob_ (the 'good inclination'). Man was always\nliable to fall a prey to his lower self. But such a fall, though usual\nand universal, was not inevitable. Man reasserted his higher self when\nhe curbed his passions, undid the wrong he had wrought to others, and\nturned again to God with a contrite heart. As a taint of the soul, sin\nwas washed away by the suppliant's tears and confession, by his sense\nof loss, his bitter consciousness of humiliation, but withal man was\nhelpless without God. God was needed for the atonement. Israel never\ndreamed of putting forward his righteousness as a claim to pardon.\n'We are empty of good works' is the constant refrain of the Jewish\npenitential appeals. The final reliance is on God and on God alone. Yet\nJudaism took over from its past the anthropomorphic belief that God could\nbe moved by man's prayers, contrition, amendment--especially by man's\namendment. Atonement was only real when the amendment began; it only\nlasted while the amendment endured. Man must not think to throw his own\nburden entirely on God. God will help him to bear it, and will lighten\nthe weight from willing shoulders. But bear it man can and must. The\nshoulders must be at all events willing.\n\nJudaism as a theology stood or fell by its belief that man can affect\nGod. If, for instance, prayer had no validity, then Judaism had no basis.\nJudaism did not distinguish between the objective and subjective efficacy\nof prayer. The two went together. The acceptance of the will of God\nand the inclining of God's purpose to the desire of man were two sides\nof one fact. The Rabbinic Judaism did not mechanically posit, however,\nthe objective validity of prayer. On the contrary, the man who prayed\nexpecting an answer was regarded as arrogant and sinful. A famous Talmudic\nprayer sums up the submissive aspect of the Jew in this brief petition\n(Berachoth, 29 a): 'Do Thy will in heaven above, and grant contentment of\nspirit to those that fear Thee below; and that which is good in Thine eyes\ndo. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who hearest prayer.' This, be it remembered,\nwas the prayer of a Pharisee. So, too, a very large portion of all Jewish\nprayer is not petition but praise. Still, Judaism believed, not that\nprayer would be answered, but that it could be answered. In modern times\nthe chief cause of the weakening of religion all round, in and out of\nthe Jewish communion, is the growing disbelief in the objective validity\nof prayer. And a similar remark applies to the belief in miracles.\nBut to a much less extent. All ancient religions were based on miracle,\nand even to the later religious consciousness a denial of miracle seems\nto deny the divine Omnipotence. Jewish theology from the Rabbinic age\nsought to evade the difficulty by the mystic notion that all miracles\nwere latent in ordered nature at the creation. And so the miraculous\nbecomes interconnected with Providence as revealed in history. But the\nbelief in special miracles recurs again and again in Judaism, and though\ndiscarded by most reformed theologies, must be admitted as a prevailing\nconcept of the older religion.\n\nBut the belief was rather in general than in special Providence. There\nwas a communal solidarity which made most of the Jewish prayers communal\nmore than personal. It is held by many that in the Psalter 'I' in the\nmajority of cases means the whole people. The sense of brotherhood, in\nother relations besides public worship, is a perennial characteristic\nof Judaism.\n\nEven more marked is this in the conception of the family. The hallowing\nof home-life was one of the best features of Judaism. Chastity was\nthe mark of men and women alike. The position of the Jewish woman was\nin many ways high. At law she enjoyed certain privileges and suffered\ncertain disabilities. But in the house she was queen. Monogamy had been\nthe rule of Jewish life from the period of the return from the Babylonian\nExile. In the Middle Ages the custom of monogamy was legalised in Western\nJewish communities. Connected with the fraternity of the Jewish communal\norganisation and the incomparable affection and mutual devotion of\nthe home-life was the habit of charity. Charity, in the sense both of\nalmsgiving and of loving-kindness, was the virtue of virtues. The very\nword which in the Hebrew Bible means righteousness means in Rabbinic\nHebrew charity. 'On three things the world stands,' says a Rabbi,\n'on law, on public worship, and on the bestowal of loving-kindness.'\n\nSome other concepts of Judaism and their influence on character will\nbe treated in a later chapter. Here a final word must be said on the\nHallowing of Knowledge.\n\nIn one of the oldest prayers of the Synagogue, repeated thrice daily,\noccurs this paragraph: 'Thou dost graciously bestow on man knowledge,\nand teachest mortals understanding; O let us be graciously endowed by\nThee with knowledge, understanding, and discernment. Blessed art Thou,\nO Lord, gracious Giver of Knowledge.' The intellect was to be turned\nto the service of the God from whom intelligence emanated. The Jewish\nestimate of intellect and learning led to some unamiable contempt of the\nfool and the ignoramus. But the evil tendency of identifying learning\nwith religion was more than mitigated by the encouragement which this\nconcept gave to education. The ideal was that every Jew must be a scholar,\nor at all events a student. Obscurantism could not for any lengthy period\nlodge itself in the Jewish camp. There was no learned caste. The fact that\nthe Bible and much of the most admired literature was in Hebrew made most\nJews bilingual at least. But it was not merely that knowledge was useful,\nthat it added dignity to man, and realised part of his possibilities.\nThe service of the Lord called for the dedication of the reason as well\nas for the purification of the heart. The Jew had to think as well as\nfeel He had to serve with the mind as well as with the body. Therefore\nit was that he was always anxious to justify his religion to his reason.\nMaimonides devoted a large section of his _Guide_ to the explanation\nof the motives of the commandments. And his example was imitated.\nThe Law was the expression of the Will of God, and obeyed and loved\nas such. But the Law was also the expression of the Divine Reason.\nHence man had the right and the duty to examine and realise how his own\nhuman reason was satisfied by the Law. In a sense the Jew was a quite\nsimple believer. But never a simpleton. '_Know_ the Lord thy God'\nwas the key-note of this aspect of Jewish theology.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nSOME OBSERVANCES OF JUDAISM\n\n\nThe historical consciousness of Israel was vitalised by a unique\nadaptability to present conditions. This is shown in the fidelity\nwith which a number of ancient festivals have been maintained through\nthe ages. Some of these were taken over from pre-Israelite cults. They\nwere nature feasts, and these are among the oldest rites of men. But,\nas Maimonides wisely said eight centuries ago, religious rites depend\nnot so much on their origins as on the use men make of them. People who\nwish to return to the primitive usages of this or that church have no\ngrasp of the value and significance of ceremonial. Here, at all events,\nwe are not concerned with origins. The really interesting thing is that\nfeasts, which originated in the fields and under the free heaven, were\nobserved and enjoyed in the confined streets of the Ghetto. The influence\nof ceremonial is undying when it is bound up with a community's life. 'It\nis impossible to create festivals to order. One must use those which\nexist, and where necessary charge them with new meanings.' So writes\nMr. Montefiore in his _Liberal Judaism_ (p. 155).\n\nThis is precisely what has happened with the Passover, Pentecost, and\nthe Feast of Tabernacles. These three festivals were originally, as has\nbeen said, nature feasts. But they became also pilgrim feasts. After the\nfall of the Temple the pilgrimages to Jerusalem, of course, ceased, and\nthere was an end to the sacrificial rites connected with them all. The\nonly sense in which they can still be called pilgrim feasts is that,\ndespite the general laxity of Sabbath observance and Synagogue attendance,\nthese three celebrations are nowadays occasions on which, in spring,\nsummer, and autumn, a large section of the Jewish community contrives\nto wend its way to places of public worship.\n\nIn the Jewish Liturgy the three feasts have special designations. They\nare called respectively 'The Season of our Freedom,' 'the Season of the\nGiving of our Law,' and 'the Season of our Joy.' These descriptions are\nnot biblical, nor are they found in this precise form until the fixation\nof the Synagogue liturgy in the early part of the Middle Ages. But they\nhave had a powerful influence in perpetuating the hold that the three\npilgrim feasts have on the heart and consciousness of Israel. Liberty,\nRevelation, Joy--these are a sequence of wondrous appeal. Now it is\neasily seen that these ideas have no indissoluble connection with specific\nhistorical traditions. True, 'Freedom' implies the Exodus; 'Revelation,'\nthe Sinaitic theophany; 'Joy,' the harvest merry-makings, and perhaps\nsome connection with the biblical narrative of Israel's wanderings in the\nwilderness. But the connection, though essential for the construction of\nthe association, is not essential for its retention. 'The Passover,' says\nMr. Montefiore (_Liberal Judaism_, p. 155), 'practically celebrates\nthe formation of the Jewish people. It is also the festival of liberty. In\nview of these two central features, it does not matter that we no longer\nbelieve in the miraculous incidents of the Exodus story. They are mere\ntrappings which can easily be dispensed with. A festival of liberty,\nthe formation of a people for a religious task, a people destined to\nbecome a purely religious community whose continued existence has no\nmeaning or value except on the ground of religion,--here we have ideas,\nwhich can fitly form the subject of a yearly celebration.' Again, as\nto Pentecost and the Ten Commandments, Mr. Montefiore writes: 'We do\nnot believe that any divine or miraculous voice, still less that God\nHimself, audibly pronounced the Ten Words. But their importance lies in\nthemselves, not in their surroundings and origin. Liberals as well as\northodox may therefore join in the festival of the Ten Commandments.\nPentecost celebrates the definite union of religion with morality,\nthe inseparable conjunction of the \"service\" of God with the \"service\"\nof man. Can any religious festival have a nobler subject?' Finally, as\nto tabernacles, Mr. Montefiore thus expresses himself: 'For us, to-day,\nthe connection with the wanderings from Egypt, which the latest [biblical]\nlegislators attempted, has again disappeared. Tabernacles is a harvest\nfestival; it is a nature festival. Should not a religion have a festival\nor holy day of this kind? Is not the conception of God as the ruler and\nsustainer of nature, the immanent and all-pervading spirit, one aspect of\nthe Divine, which can fitly be thought of and celebrated year by year?\nThus each of the three great Pentateuchal festivals may reasonably and\njoyfully be observed by liberals and orthodox alike. We have no need or\nwish to make a change.' And of the actual ceremonial rites connected\nwith the Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles, it is apparently only\nthe avoidance of leaven on the first of the three that is regarded as\nunimportant. But even there Mr. Montefiore's own feeling is in favour\nof the rite. 'It is,' he says, 'a matter of comparative unimportance\nwhether the practice of eating unleavened bread in the house for the\nseven days of the Passover be maintained or not. Those who appreciate\nthe value of a pretty and ancient symbol, both for children and adults,\nwill not easily abandon the custom.'\n\nThis is surely a remarkable development. In the Christian Church it seems\nthat certain festivals are retaining their general hold because they\nare becoming public, national holidays. But in Judaism the hold is to be\nmaintained precisely on the ground that there is to be nothing national\nabout them, they are to be reinterpreted ideally and symbolically. It\nremains to be seen whether this is possible, and it is too early to\npredict the verdict of experience. The process is in active incubation\nin America as well as in Europe, but it cannot be claimed that the eggs\nare hatched yet. On the other hand, Zionism has so far had no effect in\nthe opposite direction. There has been no nationalisation of Judaism as\na result of the new striving after political nationality. Many who had\npreviously been detached from the Jewish community have been brought back\nby Zionism, but they have not been re-attached to the religion. There\nhas been no perceptible increase, for instance, in the number of those\nwho fast on the Ninth of Ab, the anniversary of the destruction of the\nTemple. Hence, from these and other considerations, of which limited\nspace prevents the specification, it seems on the whole likely that,\nas in the past so in the future, the Festivals of the Synagogue will\nsurvive by changes in religious significance rather than by any deepening\nof national association.\n\nExcept that the Synagogues are decked with flowers, while the Decalogue\nis solemnly intoned from the Scroll of the Pentateuch, the Feast of\nPentecost has no ceremonial trappings even with the orthodox. Passover and\nTabernacles stand on a different footing. The abstention from leavened\nbread on the former feast has led to a closely organised system of\ncleansing the houses, an interminable array of rules as to food; while\nthe prescriptions of the Law as to the bearing of palm-branches and other\nemblems, and the ordinance as to dwelling in booths, have surrounded\nthe Feast of Tabernacles with a considerable, if less extensive,\nceremonial. But there is this difference. The Passover is primarily a\nfestival of the Home, Tabernacles of the Synagogue. In Europe the habit\nof actually dwelling in booths has been long unusual, owing to climatic\nconsiderations. But of late years it has become customary for every\nSynagogue to raise its communal booth, to which many Jews pay visits of\nceremony. On the other hand, the Passover is _par excellence_ a home\nrite. On the first two evenings (or at all events on the first evening)\nthere takes place the _Seder_, (literally 'service'), a service of\nprayer, which is at the same time a family meal. Gathered round the table,\non which are spread unleavened cakes, bitter herbs, and other emblems of\njoy and sorrow, the family recounts in prose and song the narrative of\nthe Exodus. The service is in two parts, between which comes the evening\nmeal. The hallowing of the home here attains its highest point.\n\nUnless, indeed, this distinction be allotted to the Sabbath. The\nrigidity of the laws regarding Sabbath observance is undeniable. Movement\nwas restricted, many acts were forbidden which were not in themselves\nlaborious. The Sabbath was hedged in by a formidable array of enactments.\nTo an outside critic it is not wonderful that the Jewish Sabbath has\na repellent look. But to the insider things wear another aspect.\nThe Sabbath was and is a day of delight. On it the Jew had a foretaste\nof the happiness of the world to come. The reader who wishes to have a\nspirited, and absolutely true, picture of the Jewish Sabbath cannot do\nbetter than turn to Dr. Schechter's excellent _Studies in Judaism_\n(pp. 296 _seq._). As Dr. Schechter pithily puts it: 'Somebody,\neither the learned professors, or the millions of the Jewish people,\nmust be under a delusion.' Right through the Middle Ages the Sabbath grew\ndeeper into the affections of the Jews. It was not till after the French\nRevolution and the era of emancipation, that a change occurred. Mixing\nwith the world, and sharing the world's pursuits, the Jews began to\nfind it hard to observe the Saturday Sabbath as of old. In still more\nrecent times the difficulty has increased. Added to this, the growing\nlaxity in observances has affected the Sabbath. This is one of the most\npressing problems that face the Jewish community to-day. Here and there\nan attempt has been made by small sections of Jews to substitute a Sunday\nSabbath for the Saturday Sabbath. But the plan has not prospered.\n\nOne of the most notable rites of the Service of the Passover eve is the\nsanctification with wine, a ceremony common to the ordinary Sabbath eve.\nThis rite has perhaps had much to do with the characteristic sobriety\nof Israel. Wine forms part of almost every Jewish rite, including the\nmarriage ceremony. Wine thus becomes associated with religion, and\nundue indulgence is a sin as well as a vice. 'No joy without wine,'\nruns an old Rabbinic prescription. Joy is the hallmark of Judaism;\n'Joyous Service' its summary of man's relation to the Law. So far is\nJudaism from being a gloomy religion, that it is almost too light-hearted,\njust as was the religion of ancient Greece. But the Talmud tells us of a\nclass who in the early part of the first century were known as 'lovers\nof sorrow.' These men were in love with misfortune; for to every trial\nof Israel corresponded an intervention of the divine salvation. This is\nthe secret of the Jewish gaiety. The resilience under tribulation was\nthe result of a firm confidence in the saving fidelity of God. And the\ngaiety was tempered by solemnity, as the observances, to which we now\nturn, will amply show.\n\nFar more remarkable than anything yet discussed is the change effected in\ntwo other holy days since Bible times. The genius of Judaism is nowhere\nmore conspicuous than in the fuller meanings which have been infused\ninto the New Year's Day and the Day of Atonement. The New Year is the\nfirst day of the seventh month (Tishri), when the ecclesiastical year\nbegan. In the Bible the festival is only known as a 'day of blowing the\nshofar' (ram's horn). In the Synagogue this rite was retained after\nthe destruction of the Temple, and it still is universally observed.\nBut the day was transformed into a Day of Judgment, the opening of a\nten days' period of Penitence which closed with the Day of Atonement.\n\nHere, too, the change effected in a biblical rite transformed\nits character. 'It needed a long upward development before a day,\noriginally instituted on priestly ideas of national sin and collective\natonement, could be transformed into the purely spiritual festival which\nwe celebrate to-day' (Montefiore, _op. cit._, p. 160). But the day\nis none the less associated with a strict rite, the fast. It is one of\nthe few ascetic ceremonies in the Jewish Calendar as known to most Jews.\nThere is a strain of asceticism in some forms of Judaism, and on this\na few words will be said later. But, on the whole, there is in modern\nJudaism a tendency to underrate somewhat the value of asceticism in\nreligion. Hence the fast has a distinct importance in and for itself,\nand it is regrettable that the laudable desire to spiritualise the day\nis leading to a depreciation of the fast as such. But the real change\nis due to the cessation of sacrifices. In the Levitical Code, sacrifice\nhad a primary importance in the scheme of atonement. But with the loss\nof the Temple, the idea of sacrifice entirely vanished, and atonement\nbecame a matter for the personal conscience. It was henceforth an inward\nsense of sin translating itself into the better life. 'To purify desire,\nto ennoble the will--this is the essential condition of atonement. Nay,\nit is atonement' (Joseph, _Judaism as Creed and Life_, p. 267;\ncf. _supra_, p. 45). This, in the opinion of Christian theologians,\nis a shallow view of atonement. But it is at all events an attempt to\napply theology to life. And its justification lies in its success.\n\nOf the other festivals a word is due concerning two of them, which\ndiffer much in significance and in development. Purim and Chanuka are\ntheir names. Purim was probably the ancient Babylonian Saturnalia, and\nit is still observed as a kind of Carnival by many Jews, though their\nnumber is decreasing. For Purim is emphatically a Ghetto feast. And this\ndescription applies in more ways than one. In the first place, the Book\nof Esther, with which the Jewish Purim is associated, is not a book that\ncommends itself to the modern Jewish consciousness. The historicity of\nthe story is doubted, and its narrow outlook is not that of prophetic\nJudaism. Observed as mediaeval Jews observed it, Purim was a thoroughly\ninnocent festivity. The unpleasant taste left by the closing scenes of the\nbook was washed off by the geniality of temper which saw the humours of\nHaman's fall and never for a moment rested in a feeling of vindictiveness.\nBut the whole book breathes so nationalistic a spirit, so uncompromising\na belief that the enemy of Israel must be the enemy of God, that it has\nbecome difficult for modern Judaism to retain any affection for it. It\nmakes its appeal to the persecuted, no doubt: it conveys a stirring lesson\nin the providential care with which God watches over His people: it bids\nthe sufferer hope. Esther's splendid surrender of self, her immortal\ndeclaration, 'If I perish, I perish,' still may legitimately thrill all\nhearts. But the Carnival has no place in the life of a Western city,\nstill less the sectional Carnival. The hobby-horse had its opportunity\nand the maskers their rights in the Ghetto, but only there. Purim thus\nis now chiefly retained as a children's feast, and still better as a\nfeast of charity, of the interchange of gifts between friends, and the\nbestowal of alms on the needy. This is a worthy survival.\n\nChanuka, on the other hand, grows every year into greater popularity. This\nfestival of light, when lamps are kindled in honour of the Maccabean\nheroes, has of late been rediscovered by the liberals. For the first four\ncenturies of the Christian Era, the festival of Chanuka ('Dedication')\nwas observed by the Church as well as by the Synagogue. But for some\ncenturies afterwards the significance of the anniversary was obscured. It\nis now realised as a momentous event in the world's history. It was not\nmerely a local triumph of Hebraism over Hellenism, but it represents\nthe re-entry of the East into the civilisation of the West. Alexander\nthe Great had occidentalised the Orient. But with the success of the\nJudaeans against the Seleucids and of the Parthians against the Romans,\nthe East reasserted itself. And the newly recovered influence has never\nagain been surrendered. Hence this feast is a feast of ideals. Year by\nyear this is becoming more clearly seen. And the symbol of the feast,\nlight, is itself an inspiration.\n\nThe Jew is really a very sentimental being. He loves symbols. A\ngood deal of his fondness for ritual is due to this fact. The outward\nmarks of an inner state have always appealed to him. Ancient taboos\nbecame not only consecrated but symbolical. Whether it be the rite of\ncircumcision, or the use of phylacteries and fringed praying garments,\nor the adfixture of little scrolls in metal cases on the door-posts, or\nthe glad submission to the dietary laws, in all these matters sentiment\nplayed a considerable part. And the word sentiment is used in its\nbest sense. Abstract morality is well enough for the philosopher,\nbut men of flesh and blood want their morality expressed in terms of\nfeeling. Love of God is a fine thing, but the Jew wished to do loving\nacts of service. Obedience to the Will of God, the suppression of the\nhuman desires before that Will, is a great ideal. But the Jew wished to\nrealise that he was obeying, that he was making the self-suppression. He\nwas not satisfied with a general law of holiness: he felt impelled to\nholiness in detail, to a life in which the laws of bodily hygiene were\nobeyed as part of the same law of holiness that imposed ritual and moral\npurity. Much of the intricate system, of observance briefly summarised in\nthis paragraph, a system which filled the Jew's life, is passing away.\nThis is largely because Jews are surrendering their own original theory\nof life and religion. Modern Judaism seems to have no use for the ritual\nsystem. The older Judaism might retort that, if that be so, it has no\nuse for the modern Judaism. It is, however, clear that modern Judaism\nnow realises the mistake made by the Reformers of the mid-nineteenth\ncentury. Hence we are hearing, and shall no doubt hear more and more, of\nthe modification of observances in Judaism rather than of their abolition.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nJEWISH MYSTICISM\n\n\n'Judaism is often called the religion of reason. It is this, but it is\nalso the religion of the soul. It recognises the value of that mystic\ninsight, those indefinable intuitions which, taking up the task at the\npoint where the mind impotently abandons it, carries us straight into the\npresence of the King. Thus it has found room both for the keen speculator\non theological problems and for the mystic who, because he feels God,\ndeclines to reason about Him--for a Maimonides and a Mendelssohn, but also\nfor a Nachmanides, a Vital, and a Luria' (M. Joseph, _op. cit._,\np. 47). Used in a vague way, mysticism stands for spiritual inwardness.\nReligion without mysticism, said Amiel, is a rose without perfume. This\nsaying is no more precise and no more informing than Matthew Arnold's\ndefinition of religion as morality touched with emotion. Neither\nmysticism nor an emotional touch makes religion. They are as often as not\nconcomitants of a pathological state which is the denial of religion. But\nif mysticism means a personal attitude towards God in which the heart is\nactive as well as the mind, then religion cannot exist without mysticism.\n\nWhen, however, we regard mysticism as what it very often is, as an\nantithesis to institutional religion and a revolt against authority\nand forms, then it may seem at first sight paradoxical to recognise\nthe mystic's claim to the hospitality of Judaism. That a religion which\nproduced the Psalter, and not only produced it, but used it with never\na break, should be a religion, with intensely spiritual possibilities,\nand its adherents capable of a vivid sense of the nearness of God, with\nan ever-felt and never-satisfied longing for communion with Him, is what\nwe should fully expect. But this expectation would rather make us look\nfor an expression on the lines of the 119th Psalm, in which the Law is so\nmarkedly associated with freedom and spirituality. Judaism, after all,\nallowed to authority and Law a supreme place. But the mystic relies on\nhis own intuitions, depends on his personal experiences. Judaism, on the\nother hand, is a scheme in which personal experiences only count in so\nfar as they are brought into the general fund of the communal experience.\n\nBut in discussing Judaism it is always imperative to discard all\n_a priori_ probabilities. Judaism is the great upsetter of\nthe probable. Analyse a tendency of Judaism and predict its logical\nconsequences, and then look in Judaism for consequences quite other than\nthese. Over and over again things are not what they ought to be. The\nsacrificial system should have destroyed spirituality; in fact, it\nproduced the Psalter, 'the hymnbook of the second Temple.' Pharisaism\nought to have led to externalism; in fact, it did not, for somehow\nexcessive scrupulosity in rite and pietistic exercises went hand in hand\nwith simple faith and religious inwardness. So, too, the expression of\nethics and religion as Law ought to have suppressed individuality; in\nfact, it sometimes gave an impulse to each individual to try to impose\nhis own concepts, norms, and acts as a Law upon the rest. Each thought\nvery much for himself, and desired that others should think likewise. We\nhave already seen that in matters of dogma there never was any corporate\naction at all; in ancient times, as now, it is not possible to pronounce\ndefinitely on the dogmatic teachings of Judaism. Though there has been and\nis a certain consensus of opinion on many matters, yet neither in practice\nnor in beliefs have the local, the temporal, the personal elements ever\nbeen negligible. In order to expound or define a tenet or rite of Judaism\nit is mostly necessary to go into questions of time and place and person.\n\nPerhaps, then, we ought to be prepared to find, as in point of fact we\ndo find, within the main body of Judaism, and not merely as a freak of\noccasional eccentrics, distinct mystical tendencies. These tendencies\nhave often been active well inside the sphere of the Law. Mysticism was,\nas we shall see, sometimes a revolt against Law; but it was often, in\nJudaism as in the Roman Catholic Church, the outcome of a sincere and\neven passionate devotion to authority. Jewish mysticism, in particular,\nstarts as an interpretation of the Scriptures. Certain truths were arrived\nat by man either intuitively or rationally, and these were harmonised\nwith the Bible by a process of lifting the veil from the text, and thus\npenetrating to the true meaning hidden beneath the letter. Allegorical\nand esoteric exegesis always had this aim: to find written what had\nbeen otherwise found. Honour was thus done to the Scriptures, though the\nlatter were somewhat cavalierly treated in the process; Philo's doctrine\n(at the beginning of the Christian era) and the great canonical book of\nthe mediaeval Cabbala, the Zohar (beginning of the fourteenth century),\nwere alike in this, they were largely commentaries on the Pentateuch.\nMaimonides in the twelfth century followed the same method, and only\ndiffered from these in the nature of his deductions from Scripture. This\nprince of rationalists agreed with the mystics in adopting an esoteric\nexegesis. But he read Aristotle into the text, while the mystics read\nPlato into it. They were alike faithful to the Law, or rather to their\nown interpretations of its terms.\n\nBut further than this,--a large portion of Jewish mysticism was the\nwork of lawyers. Some of the foremost mystics were famous Talmudists,\nmen who were appealed to for decisions on ritual and conduct. It is\na phenomenon that constantly meets us in Jewish theology. There were\nantinomian mystics and legalistic opponents of mysticism, but many,\nlike Nachmanides (1195-1270) and Joseph Caro (1488-1575), doubled the\nparts of Cabbalist and Talmudist. That Jewish mysticism comes to look\nlike a revolt against the Talmud is due to the course of mediaeval\nscholasticism. While Aristotle was supreme, it was impossible for man\nto conceive as knowable anything unattainable by reason. But reason must\nalways leave God as unknowable. Mysticism did not assert that God was\nknowable, but it substituted something else for this spiritual scepticism.\nMysticism started with the conviction that God was unknowable by reason,\nbut it held that God was nevertheless realisable in the human experience.\nAccepting and adopting various Neo-Platonic theories of emanation,\nelaborating thence an intricate angelology, the mystics threw a bridge\nover the gulf between God and man. Philo's Logos, the Personified Wisdom\nof the Palestinian Midrash, the demiurge of Gnosticism, the incarnate\nChrist, were all but various phases of this same attempt to cross an\notherwise impassable chasm. Throughout its whole history, Jewish mysticism\nsubstituted mediate creation for immediate creation out of nothing, and\nthe mediate beings were not created but were emanations. This view was\nmuch influenced by Solomon ibn Gabirol (1021-1070). God is to Gabirol\nan absolute Unity, in which form and substance are identical. Hence\nHe cannot be attributively defined, and man can know Him only by means\nof beings which emanate from Him. Nor was this idea confined to Jewish\nphilosophy of the Greece-Arabic school. The German Cabbala, too, which\nowed nothing directly to that school, held that God was not rationally\nknowable. The result must be, not merely to exalt visionary meditation\nover calm ratiocination, but to place reliance on inward experience\ninstead of on external authority, which makes its appeal necessarily to\nthe reason. Here we see elements of revolt. For, as Dr. L. Ginzberg well\nsays, 'while study of the Law was to Talmudists the very acme of piety,\nthe mystics accorded the first place to prayer, which was considered\nas a mystical progress towards God, demanding a state of ecstasy.' The\nJewish mystic must invent means for inducing such a state, for Judaism\ncannot endure a passive waiting for the moving spirit. The mystic soul\nmust learn how to mount the chariot (Merkaba) and ride into the inmost\nhalls of Heaven. Mostly the ecstatic state was induced by fasting and\nother ascetic exercises, a necessary preliminary being moral purity;\nthen there were solitary meditations and long night vigils; lastly,\nprescribed ritual of proved efficacy during the very act of prayer. Thus\nmysticism had a farther attraction for a certain class of Jews, in that\nit supplied the missing element of asceticism which is indispensable to\nmen more austerely disposed than the average Jew.\n\nIn the sixteenth century a very strong impetus was given to Jewish\nmysticism by Isaac Luria (1534-1572). His chief contributions to the\nmovement were practical, though he doubtless taught a theoretical\nCabbala also. But Judaism, even in its mystical phases, remains a\nreligion of conduct. Luria was convinced that man can conquer matter;\nthis practical conviction was the moving force of his whole life. His\nown manner of living was saintly; and he taught his disciples that\nthey too could, by penitence, confession, prayer, and charity, evade\nbodily trammels and send their souls straight to God even during their\nterrestrial pilgrimage. Luria taught all this not only while submitting\nto Law, but under the stress of a passionate submission to it. He added\nin particular a new beauty to the Sabbath. Many of the most fascinatingly\nreligious rites connected now with the Sabbath are of his devising. The\nwhite Sabbath garb, the joyous mystical hymns full of the Bride and of\nLove, the special Sabbath foods, the notion of the 'over-Soul'--these\nand many other of the Lurian rites and fancies still hold wide sway\nin the Orient. The 'over-Soul' was a very inspiring conception, which\ncertainly did not originate with Luria. According to a Talmudic Rabbi\n(Resh Lakish, third century), on Adam was bestowed a higher soul on\nthe Sabbath, which he lost at the close of the day. Luria seized upon\nthis mystical idea, and used it at once to spiritualise the Sabbath and\nattach to it an ecstatic joyousness. The ritual of the 'over-Soul' was\nan elaborate means by which a relation was established between heaven\nand earth. But all this symbolism had but the slightest connection with\ndogma. It was practical through and through. It emerged in a number of new\nrites, it based itself on and became the cause of a deepening devotion to\nmorality. Luria would have looked with dismay on the moral laxity which\ndid later on intrude, in consequence of unbridled emotionalism and mystic\nhysteria. There comes the point when he that interprets Law emotionally\nis no longer Law-abiding. The antinomian crisis thus produced meets us in\nthe careers of many who, like Sabbatai Zebi, assumed the Messianic role.\n\nJewish mysticism, starting as an ascetic corrective to the conventional\nhedonism, lost its ascetic character and degenerated into licentiousness.\nThis was the case with the eighteenth-century mysticism known as\nChassidism, though, as its name ('Saintliness') implies, it was\ninnocent enough at its initiation. Violent dances, and other emotional\nand sensual stimulations, led to a state of exaltation during which\nthe line of morality was overstepped. But there was nevertheless,\nas Dr. Schechter has shown, considerable spiritual worth and beauty\nin Chassidism. It transferred the centre of gravity from thinking to\nfeeling; it led away from the worship of Scripture to the love of God.\nThe fresh air of religion was breathed once more, the stars and the open\nsky replaced the midnight lamp and the college. But it was destined to\nraise a fog more murky than the confined atmosphere of the study. The\nman with the book was often nearer God than was the man of the earth.\n\nThe opposition of Talmudism against the neo-mysticism was thus on the\nwhole just and salutary. This opposition, no doubt, was bitter chiefly\nwhen mysticism became revolutionary in practice, when it invaded the\nestablished customs of legalistic orthodoxy. But it was also felt that\nmysticism went dangerously near to a denial of the absolute Unity of\nGod. It was more difficult to attack it on its theoretical than on its\npractical side, however. The Jewish mystic did sometimes adopt a most\nirritating policy of deliberately altering customs as though for the\nvery pleasure of change. Now in most religious controversies discipline\ncounts for more than belief. As Salimbene asserts of his own day:\n'It was far less dangerous to debate in the schools whether God really\nexisted, than to wear publicly and pertinaciously a frock and cowl of\nany but the orthodox cut.' But the Talmudists' antagonism to mysticism\nwas not exclusively of this kind in the eighteenth century. Mysticism\nis often mere delusion. In the last resort man has no other guide than\nhis reason. It is his own reason that convinces him of the limitations\nof his reason. But those limitations are not to be overpassed by a\nvisionary self-introspection, unless this, too, is subjected to rational\ncriticism. Mysticism does its true part when it applies this criticism\nalso to the current forms, conventions, and institutions. Conventions,\nforms, and institutions, after all, represent the corporate wisdom,\nthe accumulated experiences of men throughout the ages. Mysticism is the\nexperience of one. Each does right to test the corporate experience by\nhis own experience. But he must not elevate himself into a law even for\nhimself. That, in a sentence, would summarise the attitude of Judaism\ntowards mysticism. It is medicine, not a food.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nESCHATOLOGY\n\n\nThat the soul has a life of its own after death was a firmly fixed\nidea in Judaism, though, except in the works of philosophers and in\nthe liberal theology of modern Judaism, the grosser conception of a\nbodily Resurrection was predominant over the purely spiritual idea of\nImmortality. Curiously enough, Maimonides, who formulated the belief in\nResurrection as a dogma of the Synagogue, himself held that the world to\ncome is altogether free from material factors. At a much earlier period\n(in the third century) Rab had said (Ber. 17 a): 'Not as this world is\nthe world to come. In the world to come there is no eating or drinking,\nno sexual intercourse, no barter, no envy, hatred, or contention. But the\nrighteous sit with their crowns on their heads, enjoying the splendour\nof the Shechinah (the Divine Presence).' Commenting on this in various\nplaces, Maimonides emphatically asserts the spirituality of the future\nlife. In his _Siraj_ he says, with reference to the utterance of\nRab just quoted: 'By the remark of the Sages \"with their crowns on their\nheads\" is meant the preservation of the soul in the intellectual sphere,\nand the merging of the two into one.... By their remark \"enjoying the\nsplendour of the Shechinah\" is meant that those souls will reap bliss in\nwhat they comprehend of the Creator, just as the Angels enjoy felicity in\nwhat they understand of His existence. And so the felicity and the final\ngoal consists in reaching to this exalted company and attaining this high\npitch.' Again, in his philosophical _Guide_ (I. xli.), Maimonides\ndistinguishes three kinds of 'soul': (1) The principle of animality, (2)\nthe principle of humanity, and (3) the principle of intellectuality, that\npart of man's individuality which can exist independently of the body,\nand therefore alone survives death. Even more remarkable is the fact that\nMaimonides enunciates the same opinion in his Code (Laws of Repentance,\nviii. 2). For the Code differs from the other two of the three main\nworks of Maimonides in that it is less personal, and expresses what the\nauthor conceives to be the general opinion of Judaism as interpreted by\nits most authoritative teachers.\n\nThere can be no question but that this repeated insistence of Maimonides\nhas strongly affected all subsequent Jewish thought. To him, eternal\nbliss consists in perfect spiritual communion with God. 'He who desires to\nserve God from Love must not serve to win the future world. But he does\nright and eschews wrong because he is man, and owes it to his manhood\nto perfect himself. This effort brings him to the type of perfect man,\nwhose soul shall live in the state that befits it, viz. in the world to\ncome.' Thus the world to come is a state rather than a place.\n\nBut Maimonides' view was not accepted without dispute. It was indeed\nquite easy to cite Rabbinic passages in which the world to come is\nidentified with the bodily Resurrection. Against Maimonides were produced\nsuch Talmudic utterances as the following: 'Said Rabbi Chiya b. Joseph,\nthe Righteous shall arise clad in their garments, for if a grain of wheat\nwhich is buried naked comes forth with many garments, how much more shall\nthe righteous arise full garbed, seeing that they were interred with\nshrouds' (Kethub. 111 b). Again, 'Rabbi Jannai said to his children,\nBury me not in white garments or in black: not in white, lest I be not\nheld worthy (of heaven) and thus may be like a bridegroom among mourners\n(in Gehenna); nor in black, lest if I am held worthy, I be like a mourner\namong bridegrooms (in heaven). But bury me in coloured garments (so that\nmy appearance will be partly in keeping with either fate),' (Sabbath,\n114 a). Or finally: 'They arise with their blemishes, and then are healed'\n(Sanh. 91 b).\n\nThe popular fancy, in its natural longing for a personal existence\nafter the bodily death, certainly seized upon the belief in Resurrection\nwith avidity. It had its roots partly in the individual consciousness,\npartly in the communal. For the Resurrection was closely connected with\nsuch hopes as those expressed in Ezekiel's vision of the re-animation\nof Israel's dry bones (Ezek. xxxvii.). Thus popular theology adopted\nmany ideas based on the Resurrection. The myth of the Leviathan hardly\nbelongs here, for, widespread as it was, it was certainly not regarded\nin a material light. The Leviathan was created on the fifth day, and\nits flesh will be served as a banquet for the righteous at the advent\nof Messiah. The mediaeval poets found much attraction in this idea,\nand allowed their imagination full play concerning the details of\nthe divine repast. Maimonides entirely spiritualised the idea, and\nhis example was here decisive. The conception of the Resurrection\nhad other consequences. As the scene of the Resurrection is to be\nJerusalem, there grew up a strong desire to be buried on the western\nslope of Mount Olivet. In fact, many burial and mourning customs of\nthe Synagogue originated from a belief in the bodily Resurrection. But\neven in the orthodox liturgy the direct references to it are vague and\nidealised. Two passages of great beauty may be cited. The first is taken\nfrom the _Authorised Daily Prayer Book_ (ed. Singer, p. 5):\n\n'O my God, the soul which Thou gavest me is pure; Thou didst create it,\nThou didst form it, Thou didst breathe it into me; Thou preservest it\nwithin me; and Thou wilt take it from me, but wilt restore it unto me\nhereafter. So long as the soul is within me, I will give thanks unto\nThee, O Lord my God and God of my fathers, Sovereign of all works,\nLord of all souls! Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who restorest souls unto\ndead bodies.' The last phrase is also extant in another reading in the\nTalmud and in some liturgies: 'Blessed art Thou, who revivest the dead,'\nbut the meaning of the two forms is identical. This passage, be it noted,\nis ancient, and is recited every morning at prayer. The second passage is\nrecited even more frequently, for it is said thrice daily, and also forms\npart of the funeral service. It may be found in the Prayer Book just\nquoted on p. 44: 'Thou, O Lord, art mighty for ever, Thou quickenest\nthe dead, Thou art mighty to save. Thou sustainest the living with\nloving-kindness, quickenest the dead with great mercy, supportest the\nfalling, healest the sick, loosest the bound, and keepest Thy faith to\nthem that sleep in the dust. Who is like unto Thee, Lord of mighty acts,\nand who resembleth Thee, O King, who killest and quickenest, and causest\nsalvation to spring forth? Yea faithful art Thou to quicken the dead.'\n\nThe later history of the doctrine in the Synagogue may be best summarised\nin the words of Dr. Kohler, whose theological articles in the _Jewish\nEncyclopedia_ deserve grateful recognition. What follows may be\nread at full length in that work, vol. vi. p. 567: 'While mediaeval\nphilosophy dwelt on the intellectual, moral, or spiritual nature of the\nsoul to prove its immortality, the Cabbalists endeavoured to explain the\nsoul as a light from heaven, after Proverbs xx. 27, and immortality as\na return to the celestial world of pure light. But the belief in the\npre-existence of the soul led the mystics to the adoption, with all\nits weird notions and superstitions, of the Pythagorean system of the\ntransmigration of the soul.' Moses Mendelssohn revived the Platonic form\nof the doctrine of immortality. Thenceforth the dogma of the Resurrection\nwas gradually discarded until it was eliminated from the Prayer Book of\nthe Reform congregations. Man's future was thought of as the realisation\nof those 'higher expectations which are sown, as part of its very nature,\nin every human soul.' The statement of Genesis that 'God made man in\nHis own image,' and the idea conveyed in the text (1 Samuel xxv. 29),\n'May the soul ... be bound up in the bundle of life with the Lord thy\nGod,' which as a divine promise and a human supplication 'filled the\ngenerations with comfort and hope, received a new meaning from this view\nof man's future; and the Rabbinical saying (Ber. 64 a): \"The Righteous\nrest not, either in this or in the future world, but go from strength\nto strength until they see God in Zion,\" appeared to offer an endless\nvista to the hope of immortality.'\n\nBut quite apart from this indefiniteness of attitude as to the meaning\nof immortality, it is scarcely possible to speak of a Jewish Eschatology\nat all. The development of an Eschatology occurred in that section of\nJewish opinion which remained on the fringe. It must be sought in the\napocalyptic literature, which has been preserved in Greek. The whole\nsubject had but a small attraction for Judaism proper. Naturally there\nwas some curiosity and some speculation. The Day of the Lord, with its\ncombination of Retribution and Salvation, was pictured in various ways\nand with some elaboration of detail. Paradise and Hell were mapped out,\nand the comfortable compartments to be occupied by the saints and the\nmiserable quarters of sinners were specified with the precision of an\nOrdnance Survey. Purgatory was an institution not limited to the Roman\nCatholic Church; it had a strong hold on the mediaeval Jewish mind. The\nintermediate state was a favourite escape from the theological necessity\nof condemning sinners to eternal punishment. The Jewish heart could\nnot suffer the pain of conceiving Gehenna inevitable. So, one by one,\nthose who might logically be committed there were rescued on various\npretexts. In the end the number of the individual sinners who were to\nsuffer eternal torture could be named on the fingers of one hand.\n\nBy the preceding paragraph it is not implied that Jewish literature in\nHebrew has not its full complement of fancies, horrible and beautiful,\nregarding heaven and hell. But such fancies were neither dogmatic\nnor popular. They never found their way into the tenets of Judaism as\nformulated by any authority; they never became a moving power in the life\nof the Jewish masses. It was the poets who nourished these lurid ideas,\nand poetry which has done so much for the good of religion has also done\nit many a disservice. Judaism, in its prosaic form, accepted the ideas\nof Immortality, Retribution, and so forth, but the real interest was in\nlife here, not in life hereafter.\n\nWe can see how the two were bridged over by the Jewish conviction of\nhuman solidarity. For twelve months after the death of a father the son\nrecited daily the Kaddish prayer (_Authorised Daily Prayer Book_,\np. 77). This was a mere Doxology, opening: 'Magnified and sanctified\nbe His great name in the world which He hath created according to His\nwill. May He establish His kingdom during your life and during your days,\nand during the life of all the house of Israel, even speedily and at a\nnear time, and say ye Amen.' As to the Messianic idea of the Kingdom of\nGod, something will be said in the next chapter. But this Doxology was\nbelieved efficacious to save the departed soul when uttered by the living\nson. The generations were thus bound together, and just as the merits of\nthe fathers could exert benign influence over the erring child on earth,\nso could the praises of the child move the mercy of God in favour of\nthe erring father in Purgatory. It was a beautiful expression of the\nunbreakable chain of tradition, a tradition whose links were human\nhearts. In such conceptions, rather than in descriptive pictures of\nParadise and Gehenna, is the true mind of Judaism to be discerned.\n\nThat the first formal sign of grief at the death of a parent should be a\nDoxology will not have escaped notice. God is the Righteous Judge. Thus,\nin the Eschatology of Judaism, this idea of Judgment predominates. A\nfavourite passage was the Mishnic utterance (second century): 'Rabbi\nEleazar said: They that are born are destined to die, and they that\ndie to be brought to life again, and they that live to be judged.'\n(Aboth, iv. 29). But in another sense, too, there was judgment at\ndeath. The sorrow of the survivors, like the decease of the departed,\nwas to be considered as God's doing, and therefore right. Hence in the\nvery moment of the death of a loved one, when grief was most poignant,\nthe survivor stood forth before the congregation and praised God. And so\nthe Burial Service is named in Hebrew 'Zidduk Ha-din,' _i.e._ 'The\nJustification of the Judgment.' A few sentences in it ran thus (_Prayer\nBook_, p. 318): 'The Rock, His work is perfect.... He ruleth below and\nabove, He bringeth down to the grave and bringeth up again.... Blessed be\nthe true Judge.' And perhaps more than all attempts to analyse beliefs\nand dogmas, the following prayer, recited during the week of mourning\nfor the dead, will convey to the reader the real attitude of Judaism\n(at least in its central variety) to some of the questions which have\noccupied us in this chapter. The quotation is made from p. 323 of the\nsame Prayer Book that has been already cited several times above:\n\n'O Lord and King, who art full of compassion, in whose hand is the soul\nof every living thing and the breath of all flesh, who killest and makest\nalive, who bringest down to the grave and bringest up again, receive,\nwe beseech Thee, in Thy great loving-kindness, the soul of our brother\nwho hath been gathered unto his people. Have mercy upon him, pardon all\nhis transgressions, for there is not a righteous man upon earth, who\ndoeth good and sinneth not. Remember unto him the righteousness which\nhe wrought, and let his reward be with him and his recompense before\nhim. O shelter his soul in the shadow of Thy wings. Make known to Him the\npath of life: in Thy presence is fulness of joy; at Thy right hand are\npleasures for evermore. Vouchsafe unto him of the abounding happiness\nthat is treasured up for the righteous, as it is written, Oh how great\nis Thy goodness, which Thou hast laid up for them that fear Thee, which\nThou hast wrought for them that trust in Thee before the children of men!\n\n'O Lord, who healest the broken-hearted and bindest up their wounds,\ngrant Thy consolation unto the mourners: put into their hearts the\nfear and love of Thee, that they may serve Thee with a perfect heart,\nand let their latter end be peace.\n\n'Like one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you, and in\nJerusalem shall ye be comforted. Thy sun shall no more go down, neither\nshall thy moon withdraw itself; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting\nlight, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended.\n\n'He will destroy death for ever; and the Lord will wipe away tears from\noff all faces; and the rebuke of his people shall he take away from off\nall the earth: for the Lord hath spoken it.'\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE SURVIVAL OF JUDAISM\n\n\nThe Messianic Hope has an intimate connection with Eschatology. Whereas,\nhowever, the latter in so far as it affirmed a Resurrection conceived\nof the immortality of Israelites, the former conceived the Immortality\nof Israel. It is not necessary here to trace the origin and history of\nthe Messianic idea in Judaism. That this idea had a strong nationalistic\ntinge is obvious. The Messiah was to be a person of Davidic descent,\nwho would be the restorer of Israel's greatness. Throughout Jewish\nhistory, despite the constant injunction to refrain 'from calculating\nthe date of the end,' men have arisen who have claimed to be Messiahs,\nand these have mostly asserted their claim on nationalistic pleas. They\nwere to be kings of Israel as well as inaugurators of a new regime of\nmoral and spiritual life. But though this is true without qualification,\nit is equally true that the philosophers of the Middle Ages tried to\nremove all materialistic notions from the Messianic idea. It is very\ndifficult to assert nowadays whether Judaism does or does not expect\na personal Messiah. A very marked change has undoubtedly come over the\nspirit of the dream.\n\nOn the one hand the neo-Nationalists deny any Messianic hopes. When that\ngreat leader, Theodor Herzl, started a Zionistic movement without claiming\nto be the Jewish Messiah, he was putting the seal on a far-reaching change\nin Jewish sentiment. Dr. J. H. Greenstone, who has just published an\ninteresting volume on the _Messianic Idea in Jewish History_, writes\n(p. 276): 'After the first Basle Congress (1897), when Zionism assumed\nits present political aspect, Dr. Max Nordau, the vice-president of the\nCongress, found it necessary to address an article to the Hebrew-reading\npublic, in which he disclaimed all pretensions of Messiahship for himself\nor for his colleague Dr. Theodor Herzl.' We have thus this extraordinary\nsituation. Many orthodox Jews stood aloof from the Zionistic movement\nbecause it was not Messianic, while many unorthodox Jews joined it just\nbecause of the movement's detachment from Messianic ideas.\n\nIt may be well to cite Dr. Greenstone's verdict on the whole question,\nas the reader may care to have the opinion of so competent an authority\nwhose view differs from that of the present writer. 'Sacred as Zionism\nis to many of its adherents, it cannot and will not take the place of the\nMessianic hope. Zionism aims at the establishment of a Jewish State in\nPalestine under the protection of the powers of Europe. The Messianic hope\npromises the establishment, by the Jews, of a world-power in Palestine\nto which all the nations of the earth will pay homage. Zionism, even\nin its political aspect, will fulfil only one phase of the Jewish\nMessianic hope. As such, if successful, it may contribute toward the\nfull realisation of the hope. If not successful, it will not deprive\nthe Jews of the hope. The Messianic hope is wider than the emancipation\nof the Jews, it is more comprehensive than the establishment of a\nJewish, politically independent State. It participates in the larger\nideals of humanity, the ideals of perfection for the human race, but it\nremains on Jewish soil, and retains its peculiarly Jewish significance.\nIt promises universal peace, an age of justice and of righteousness, an\nage in which all men will recognise that God is One and His name One.\nBut this glorious age will come about through the regeneration of the\nJewish people, which in turn be effected by a man, a scion of the house\nof David, sent by God to guide them on the road to righteousness. The\npeople chosen by God to be His messengers to the world will then be\nable to accomplish their mission of regenerating the world. This was\nthe Messianic hope proclaimed by the prophets and sages, and this is\nthe Messianic hope of most Jews to-day, the difference between the\nvarious sections being only a difference in the details of the hope'\n(_op. cit._, p. 278).\n\nDr. Greenstone surely cannot mean that the question of a 'personal\nMessiah' is a mere detail of the belief. Yet it is on that point that\nopinion is most divided among Jews. The older belief undeniably was what\nDr. Greenstone enunciates. But for this belief, none of what Mr. Zangwill\naptly terms the 'Dreamers of the Ghetto' would have found the ready\nacceptance that several of them did when they presented themselves as\nMessiah or his forerunners. And no doubt there are many Jews who still\ncling to this form of the belief.\n\nOn the other hand, there has been a slow but widespread tendency to\nreinterpret the whole intention of the Messianic hope of Judaism. In\n1869, and again in 1885, American Conferences of liberal Rabbis adopted\nresolutions to the following effect: 'The Messianic aim of Israel is not\nthe restoration of the old Jewish State under a descendant of David,\ninvolving a second separation from the nations of the earth, but the\nunion of all children of God in the confession of the unity of God,\nso as to realise the unity of all rational creatures and their call to\nmoral sanctification.' This view sees in the destruction of the Temple\nand the dispersal of Israel not a punishment but a stage in the fulfilment\nof Israel's destiny as revealed to Abraham. Israel is High-Priest, and\ncan only fulfil his mission in the close neighbourhood of those to whom\nhe is elected to minister.\n\nThis, no less than the non-Messianic Zionism, is a considerable change\nfrom older beliefs. As a Messianic hope it transcends the visions of\nIsaiah. The prophet looks forward to an ideal future, a reign of peace\nand felicity, but the nations are to flow to Zion. The significance of\nthe change lies in this. The Messianic idea now means to many Jews a\nbelief in human development and progress, with the Jews filling the role\nof the Messianic people, but only as _primus inter pares_. It is\nthe expression of a genuine optimism. 'Character, no less than Career,'\nsaid George Eliot, 'is a process and an unfolding.' So with the Character\nof mankind as a whole. But this idea of development, unfolding, is quite\nmodern in the real sense of the terms; it is something outside the range\neven of the second Isaiah. Judaism was never quite sure whether to join\nthe ranks of the '_laudatores temporis acti_,' or to believe that man\nnever is but always to be blest. On the one hand, the person of Adam was\nendowed with perfections such as none of his successors matched. On the\nother hand, the Golden Age of Judaism, as Kenan said, was thrown forward\ninto the future. That on the whole Judaism has taken the prospective\nrather than the retrospective view, is the sole justification for the\nmodern conception of the Messianic Age which is fast becoming predominant\nin the Synagogue. The Synagogue does not share the Roman poet's sentiment:\n\n  'A race of men baser than their sires\n  Gave birth to us, a progeny more vile,\n  Who dower the world with offspring viler still';\n\nbut the English poet's trust:\n\n  'Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs,\n  And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns.'\n\nDenouncing the 'Calculators of the End,' a Rabbi said (Sanh. 97 b):\n'All the computed terms have passed, and the matter dependeth now on\nrepentance and good deeds' (cf. S. Singer, The Messianic Idea in Judaism,\npp. 1 and 18)\n\nIf, however, Israel is not destined to a Restoration, if the\nJewish Mission is the propagation of an idea, on what ground is the\ncontinued existence of Israel as a separate organisation defensible or\njustified? Israel is indestructible, said Jehuda Halevi in the twelfth\ncentury; certainly Israel is undestroyed. When Frederick the Great\nasked what should make him believe in God, he received in answer,\n'the survival of the Jews.' Dr. Guttmann of Breslau not long since put\nforward a similar plea in vindication of the continued significance of\nJudaism. In nature all forms die when their utility is over; in history,\npeoples succumb when their work in and for the world is complete. Shall,\nhe asks, we recognise Judaism as the solitary exception, as the unique\ninstance of the survival of the unfit and the unnecessary?\n\nThe modern apologists for all religions rarely belong to the rank\nand file. Whether it be Harnack for Christianity or Mr. Montefiore\nfor Judaism, the vindicators stand far above the average of the\nbelievers whose faith they are vindicating. The average man needs\nno defence for a religion which enables him to live and thrive,\nmaterially and spiritually. The importance of this consideration is very\ngreat. Restricting our attention to Judaism, it is clear that it still\noffers ideals to many, prescribes and enforces a moral law, teaches a\nsatisfying doctrine of God. If so, then it is futile to discuss whether\nJudaism is still necessary. Can the world afford to surrender a single\none of its forces for good? If there are ten millions of men, women, and\nchildren who live, and live not ignobly, by Judaism, can it be contended\nthat Judaism is obsolete? The first, the main justification of Judaism is\nits continued efficiency, its proved power still to control and inspire\nmany millions of human lives. There are more people living as Jews to-day,\nthan there were at any previous moment in the world's history.\n\nBut, like many answers to questions, this reply does not satisfy those\nwho raise the question. I refer exclusively to the doubters among the Jews\nthemselves, for if Jews were themselves convinced of the justification of\nthe Jewish separateness, the rest of the world would be convinced. Now,\nthe Jews who ask this question are those who are not so completely given\nover to Judaism, that they are blind to the claims of other religions.\nTo them the question is one not of absolute, but of comparative\ntruth. Judaism may still be a power, but it may not be a desirable\npower. The further question therefore arises as to the mission of Israel\nin history to come as well as in history past. History seems contradicted\nby the claim made by Judaism. Jews are quick enough to see the weakness\nof the pretension made by certain sects of dogmatic Christianity that\nit is the last word of religion, that all saving truth was once for\nall revealed some nineteen centuries ago. History, says the Jewish\ncontroversialist, teaches no such lessons of finality. Forces appear,\nwork their destined course, and then make way for other forces. The world\ndoes not stand still; it moves on. Then how can Judaism claim for itself\na permanence, a finality, which it must deny to every other system,\nto every other influence which has in its turn moulded human destiny?\n\nA favourite answer is: Judaism is the exception that proves the rule. It\n_has_ been a permanent force in the world's history. It is argued\nthat Jewish ideals have exercised recurrent influence at all important\ncrises. Dr. Guttmann somewhat rhetorically makes this identical claim. He\npoints to the birth of Christianity, the rise of Islam, the mediaeval\nScholasticism, the Italian Renaissance, the German Reformation, the\nEnglish and American Puritanism, the modern humanitarian movement, as\nexemplifications of the continued power of Judaism to mould the minds\nand souls of men. There is a sense in which this claim is just. It\nis a valuable support to the Jew's allegiance to Judaism. But even if\nDr. Guttmann's claim were granted, and it is considerably exaggerated,\nhow does it help? We are all agreed as to the debt which the world owes\nto Greece. That debt is a great one. Is it obsolete? Surely not. Greece\nhas again and again revived its ancient power to inspire men. The\nworld would be a poor one to-day without all that Greek culture stands\nfor. Greece did not give men enough to live by; Hebraism did that. But\nGreece made life more worth living. Hellenism is an ever-recurrent\nforce in human civilisation. Yet no one argues that because Hellenism\nis still necessary, Hellenes are also necessary. Who contends that for\ncarrying on Greek culture you need Greeks? On the contrary, it was the\ncase of Greece that gave rise to the profound observation that just as\na man must die to live, so peoples must die that men may live through\nthem. Renan, who, among the moderns, gave fullest value to this truth,\nincluded Judaea with Greece in the generalisation. Certainly as a nation,\nwhether temporarily or irrevocably, Judaea perished no less than Athens,\nthat a new world might be born. And a new Jewish nation would no more\nbe the old Judaea of Isaiah than the Athens of to-day is the Athens of\nPericles, or the Rome of to-day the Rome of Augustus. History does not\nretrace its steps.\n\nAthens fell, and with it the Athenians. Why then, when Judaea fell, did\nthe Jews remain? Greek culture does not need Greeks to carry it on;\nwhy does Jewish culture need Jews? The first suggestion to be offered\nis this:--Israel is the protestant people. Every religious or moral\ninnovator has also been a protestant. Socrates, Jesus, Luther; Isaiah,\nMaimonides, Spinoza; all of them, besides their contributions--very\nunequal contributions--to the positive store of truth, assumed also the\nnegative attitude of protesters. They refused to go with the multitude,\nto acquiesce in current conventions. They were all unpopular and even\nanti-popular. The Jews as a community have fulfilled, and are fulfilling,\nthis protestant function. They have been and are unpopular just because\nof their protestant function. They refuse to go with the multitude;\nthey refuse to acquiesce. Geiger used this argument very forcibly,\nfrom the spiritual point of view, in the early part of the nineteenth\ncentury, and Anatole Leroy-Beaulieu (in his book _Israel among the\nNations_) even more forcibly used it at the end of the same century,\nfrom the historical point of view. This ingenious French observer cites\na suspicion that 'the sons of Jacob, as compared with the rest of the\nhuman race, represent a higher state of evolution' (p. 232). No modern\nJew would make so preposterous a claim. But when the same writer sees\nin the Jew a _different_ stage of evolution, then he is on the\nright tack. Here is a passage which deserves to be quoted again and\nagain: 'I have little taste, I confess, for uniformity; I leave that\nto the Jacobins. My ideal of a nation is not a monolith, nor a bronze\nformed at a single casting. It is better that a people should be composed\nof diverse elements and of many races. If the Jew differs from us, so\nmuch the better; he is the more likely to bring a little variety into\nthe flat monotony of our modern civilisation' (p. 261). And the same\nargument applies to religions. There is a permanent value to the world\nin Israel's determined, protestant attitude. The handful of protestants\nwho, in Elijah's day, refused to bow to Baal and to kiss him, were the\nreal saviours of their generation. And though the world to-day is in no\nneed of such salvation, still the Jew remains the finest exemplification\nof the truth that God fulfils Himself in many ways, lest one good custom\nshould corrupt the world.\n\nThen again, Judaism seems destined to survive because it represents\nat once the God-idea and the ethical idea. The liberal Jew, as well as\nthe orthodox, believes that no other religion does this in the same way\nas does Judaism. Putting it crudely, the Jew would perhaps admit that\nChristianity has absorbed, developed, enlarged and purified the Hebrew\nethics, but he would, rightly or wrongly, think that it has obscured by\ndogmatic accretions the Jewish Monotheism. On the other hand, the Jew\nwould admit that Islam has absorbed and purified the Jewish Monotheism,\nbut has done less of the flattery of imitation to the Hebrew ethics. Islam\nhas certainly a pure creed; it freed itself from the entanglements of\nanthropomorphic metaphors and conceptions of God, which are apparent in\nthe early strata of the Hebrew Bible, and from which Judaism, because\nof its reverence for the Bible, has not emancipated itself yet. But that\nit can emancipate itself is becoming progressively more clear. And even\nif we drop comparisons, Judaism stands for a life in which goodness and\nGod are the paramount interests.\n\nBut, beyond all, the Jew believes himself to be a Witness to God. He\nthinks that on him, in some real sense, depends the fulfilment of the\npurposes of God. It may be an arrogant thought, but unlike most boasts it\nat once humiliates and ennobles, humiliates by the consciousness of what\nis, ennobles by the vision of what might be. After enumerating certain\nethical and religious ideas which, he holds, Judaism still has to teach\nthe world, the Rev. M. Joseph adds: 'But to the Jew himself, first of\nall, these truths are uttered. He is to help to win the world for the\nhighest ideals. But if he is to succeed, he must himself be conspicuously\nfaithful to them. He is the chosen, but his very election binds him to\nvigorous service of truth and righteousness. \"Be ye clean, ye that bear\nthe vessels of the Lord.\" Only when Israel proves by the nobility of his\nlife that he deserves his holy vocation will the accomplishment of his\nmission be at hand. When all the peoples of the earth shall see that he\nis worthily called by the name of the Lord, the Divine name and law will\nbe near to the attainment of their destined empire over the hearts of men'\n(_Judaism as Creed and Life_, p. 513).\n\nA community that believes itself to fill this place in the Divine\npurpose deserves to live. Its separate existence is a means, not an end;\nfor when all has been said, the one God carries with it the idea of one\nhumanity. The Fatherhood of God implies the brotherhood of man. And so,\namid all its trust that the long travail of centuries cannot fulfil\nitself in Israel's annihilation, amid all its particularism, there soars\naloft the belief in the day when there will be no religions, but only\nReligion, when Israel will come together with other communions, or they\nwith Israel. And so, thrice daily, in most Synagogues of Israel, this\nprayer is uttered: 'We therefore hope in Thee, O Lord our God, that we\nmay speedily behold the glory of Thy might, when Thou wilt remove the\nabominations from the earth, and the idols will be utterly cut off;\nwhen the world will be perfected under the kingdom of the Almighty,\nand all the children of flesh will call upon Thy name, when Thou wilt\nturn unto Thee all the wicked of the earth. Let all the inhabitants of\nthe world perceive and know that unto Thee every knee must bow, every\ntongue must swear. Before Thee, O Lord our God, let them bow and fall;\nand unto Thy glorious name let them give honour. Let them all accept\nthe yoke of Thy kingdom, and do Thou reign over them speedily, and for\never and ever. For the Kingdom is Thine, and to all eternity Thou wilt\nreign in glory; as it is written in Thy Law, The Lord shall reign for\never and ever. And it is said, And the Lord shall be King over all the\nearth; in that day shall the Lord be One, and His name One.'\n\nModern Judaism, in short, claims no finality but what is expressed in\nthat hope. It holds itself ready to develop, to modify, to absorb, to\nassimilate, except in so far as such processes seem inconsistent with\nthis hope. Modern Jews think that in some respects the Rabbinic Judaism\nwas an advance on the Biblical; they think further that their own modern\nJudaism is an advance on the Rabbinic. Judaism, as they conceive it, is\nthe one religion, with a great history behind it, that does not claim the\nreligious doctrines of some particular moment in its history to be the\nlast word on Religion. It thinks that the last word is yet to be spoken,\nand is inspired with the confidence that its own continuance will make\nthat last word fuller and truer when it comes, if it ever does come.\n\n\n\nSELECTED LIST OF BOOKS ON JUDAISM\n\n\n[This list does not include works on the early Religion of Israel,\nor articles in the standard Dictionaries of the Bible. For the rest,\nonly works written in English are cited, and for the most part Jewish\nexpositions of Judaism.]\n\nArticles in the _Jewish Encyclopedia_ (New York and London, Funk\nand Wagnalls, 12 vols. 1901-1906). Especially the following: 'Articles of\nFaith' (E. G. Hirsch); 'Atonement' (K. Kohler); 'Cabala' (L. Ginzberg);\n'Catechisms' (E. Schreiber); 'Conferences' (D. Philipson); 'Ethics'\n(K. Kohler, I. Broyde and E. G. Hirsch); 'Eschatology' (K. Kohler);\n'God' (E. G. Hirsch); 'Hassidim' (S. M. Dubnow); 'Immortality'\n(K. Kohler); 'Judaism' (K. Kohler); 'Law, Codification of' (L. Ginzberg);\n'Messiah' (M. Buttenwieser); 'Nomism' (J. Z. Lauterbach and K. Kohler);\n'Pharisees' (K. Kohler); 'Keform Judaism' (E. G. Hirsch and D. Philipson);\n'Resurrection' (K. Kohler); 'Sabbath' (E. G. Hirsch and J. H. Greenstone);\n'Theology' (J. Z. Lauterbach).\n\nM. FRIEDLANDER.--_The Jewish Religion_ (Kegan Paul, 1891).\n\nJ. H. GREENSTONE.--_The Messiah Idea in Jewish History_\n(Philadelphia, Jewish Publication Society of America, 1906).\n\nM. JOSEPH.--_Judaism as Creed and Life_ (London, Macmillan, 1903).\n\nN. S. JOSEPH.--_Religion, Natural and Revealed_ (London, Macmillan,\n1906).\n\nM. LAZARUS.--_The Ethics of Judaism_ (London, Macmillan; 2 vols.,\n1900-1)\n\nC. G. MONTEFIORE.--_Hibbert Lectures_ (London, Williams and Norgate,\n1892, especially _Lectures_ VII.-IX.).\n\n------_Liberal Judaism_ (London, Macmillan, 1903).\n\nS. SCHECHTER.--_Studies in Judaism_ (London, A. and C. Black, 1896).\n\nE. SCHURER.--_A History of the Jewish People in the Time of Christ_\n(Edinburgh, T. and T. Clark, 1890).\n\nS. SINGER.--_Authorised Daily Prayer Book_ (London, Eyre and\nSpottiswoode; many editions).","title":"Judaism","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":22057}