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A Cultural History of the Jews
Zvi Howard Adelman, Jerusalem
adelman@macam98.ac.il
Week 5
Jesus Saves, Moses Invests: Changing Images of Moses in Jewish
Culture
Moses: Introduction
As many commentators have noticed over the centuries, despite
various
modern emendations and loose translations of the Haggadah, Moses'
name
does not appear in the Passover Haggadah at all. A fascinating
omission
of the name of the man who in the biblical account was the star
of the
show. Reasons galore have been put forth for this omission in
the
Haggadah, but rather than dwelling on them now, I would like to
look at
the development of Moses in Jewish culture. This lecture is meant
to
coordinate with the period of Passover and Easter, not to mention
the
appearance of the film, Prince of Egypt, which I have yet to see,
a time
when discussions of both Moses and Jesus is common in the air.
Before beginning with the biblical account I must state emphatically
that the purpose of this lecture is not to discover the historic
Moses,
whether he existed or not is not the point of the presentation.
What is
important is the way in which later generations of Jews saw him.
Therefore, when comparisons to other cultural developments are
made,
particularly Christianity, while I am well aware that the biblical
(Old
Testament) text preceded developments in Christianity and western
culture, the point of the lecture is to show how later Jewish
developments may have been influenced by the surrounding culture.
Moses in the Bible
Four of the five books of the Torah, which is also called the
Five Books
of Moses, deal almost single mindedly with the on going communications
between God and Moses. These appear in the form of narratives-in
which
Moses often plays the leading role, laws, poetry, religious experiences,
and what the text explicitly identifies as prophecy. While Moses
does
not appear at all in the book of Genesis, at the beginning of
chapter
two of the book of Exodus we meet the story of his birth, youth,
early
adulthood, and summons by God.
The biblical narrative in chapter two of Exodus raises several
problems:
1) Who were the unnamed parents and sister of the boy who is born
here-could a daughter of Levi, Jacob's son, have lived so long?
2)
Where did that sister come from, and later a brother? It seems
that the
parents had just got married and conceived their first child when
his
older sister shows up? 3) How did Pharaoh's daughter, also unnamed,
know
she had found a Hebrew baby in the river-chapter one seems to
have ended
with Pharaoh having declared that his people should throw every
boy born
to them into the river (vs. 22.)? 4) Was not Pharaoh as wise as
his
daughter to detect a Hebrew baby (or serious promiscuity on the
part of
his daughter who shows up with a young baby?) 5) Doesn't the baby
seem
to grow up pretty quickly here, going from sucking at his mother's
breast to killing a man?
At the biblical level of the narrative, such details don't seem
to
matter. The purpose of the story appears to get the story moving.
Not
only is the life of Moses telescoped, but the entire period of
history
of several hundred years is reduced to a few verses. The narrative
is
skeletal, yet compelling.
The narrative continues: In chapter 3 Moses experiences divine
revelation at the burning bush. In chapter 4:24-26, in the story
of the
bridegroom of blood, it seems that God tried to kill Moses, but
he is
saved from this by the blood of the circumcision of his son performed
by
his wife, Tzipporah, and thrown at his feet, one of the last things
they
would do together, since she does not appear regularly at his
side
(Tzipporah was no Sarah Netanyahu who has been surgically attached
to
her husband's side), perhaps raising the possibility, that they
actually
separated, see Exodus 18:1-4. As Moses worked to liberate his
people he
also received commandments (Exodus 19-20), visions of the divine
(Exodus
24:10), advocated a cleaving to the divine (Deuteronomy 4:4),
wrote
some or all of the Torah (Deuteronomy 32:46), and died "by
the mouth of
the Lord," before reaching the promised land (Deuteronomy
34:5).
Moses in the Midrash
Subsequent readers of the Bible were not willing to accept the
biblical
author at his brief, somewhat cryptic word, especially regarding
the
leading law maker, prophet, and mystic. To see how rabbis answered
the
questions raised by the biblical text, we'll look at some passages
in
Midrash Rabba, part of a collection of rabbinic teachings on the
Torah
and Megillot, that is the Torah readings for shabbat and the scrolls
read on the major holidays. Edited somewhere between the seventh
and
twelfth centuries, Shemot Rabba, on the book of Exodus, in the
land of
Israel in a mixture of Hebrew and Aramaic, gives us an ideal window
on
to the development of Jewish culture. (Following the practices
of this
course, I will stick as close to possible to the readings in Leviant's
Masterpieces of Jewish Literature, occasionally translating on
my own
slightly. Leviant is borrowing from the full English edition of
Midrash
Rabbah, still available in hard copy and on CD-ROM, first published
by
the Soncino press during the 1930s. In this work the chapters
and
verses are those of Midrash Rabbah. Biblical verses are written
in all
capital letters with the biblical citation following in square
brackets. We begin on page 120 of Leviant, Chapter 1, section
18 of
Rabbah, referring to Exodus 1:22).
Here we are told that Pharaoh indeed tried to kill not only the
Hebrew
babies but Egyptian ones as well (question 3 above). A reason
is given
in the form of a story: His astrologers told him that soon a savior
of
the Hebrews would be born and they were not sure if he would be
Hebrew
or Egyptian. This story explains why the biblical text seems to
indicate that Pharaoh wanted to have all the babies who were born
thrown
into the Nile. The parents of the Egyptian babies as would be
expected
objected to such a request because it seemed to defy logic-why
would an
Egyptian save the Hebrews?
At section 19 the midrash deals with the first and second questions
above by suggesting that in chapter 2 of Exodus the boy's parents
were
not married for the first time, but for the second time. The passage
here does not mention the full version of the story that the parents,
here named as Amram and Yocheved, had been married but felt obligated
during the period of Pharaoh's persecution to separate so as not
to
endanger any children. According to the full version it was their
daughter Miriam who convinced them that by doing so they may be
saving
endangered males, but preventing daughters to be born. So, as
we are
told here, they followed her advice, reunited and conceived another
child, bringing us from the rabbinic imagination back to the biblical
text. Amram and Yocheved's older two children are also mentioned
by
name here: Miriam and Aaron. Their dancing at their parents' second
wedding is linked to a verse in Psalms 113:9, "As a joyful
mother of
children," always a cultural tour de force when the rabbis
can link an
apparently unrelated verse, usually in the Writings, often in
Psalms, to
an event in the Torah. Such a textual play both shows off their
mastery
of the texts and enhances the interrelatedness of the entire biblical
corpus.
The midrash does not want to slide past the biblical fact that
this
woman may have been an actual daughter of Levi one of Jacob's
sons. It
thus posits that she was 130 years old, and refers us to Numbers
26:59
which says explicitly twice that she was Levi's daughter, born
to him in
Egypt, married to Amram, and the mother of Aaron, Moses, and Miriam.
Rather than following a harmonizing route such as explaining that
the
Hebrew bat-levi could mean that she was a woman of the tribe of
Levi,
the Midrash works towards a miraculous route. Not only was Yocheved
very old, but, they explain the word "daughter" as meaning
that she
became young again.
The midrash continues in this miraculous vein. In explaining Exodus
2:2, "the woman conceived and bore a son," as meaning
that both her
pregnancy and birth were painless, emphatically stating that she
as a
righteous woman she was exempt from the punishment of painful
childbirth
imposed on Eve by the Bible in Genesis 3:18.
The miraculous characteristics attributed to Yocheved almost match
those
attributed by Christian tradition to the Virgin Mary, mother of
Jesus,
who through her merit was able to overcome sin of Eve, and who,
according to Catholic tradition, conceived and delivered Jesus
in a
state of virginal purity, a feat that the rabbis now attribute
to
Yocheved, the mother of Moses.
Lest the subtlety of the midrash is lost on its readers or my reading
appears too forced, the next sentences heightens the comparison.
When
the biblical text at 2;2 describes the baby born as good, the
rabbis
offer a number of interpretations for that word. Rabbi Judah's
comment
that Moses was fit for prophecy elevates him to a level of pre-natal
spirituality not found in the biblical narrative itself about
Moses or
any other prophet. The comment passed on in the name of other
rabbis
indicating that Moses had been born circumcised nicely explains
not only
how Pharoah's daughter may have identified him as a Hebrew baby
but
brings to the narrative a degree of androcentric, theological
polemic as
well. Such a comment indicates that the preferred status, "good,"
is
circumcised, circumcised is male, and male is the gender of God,
reflecting one tradition (of many, see my first lecture) that
the male
was born in God's image. All together these comments add to Moses
a
closer relationship with God than the average human enjoyed. The
superhuman, spiritual qualities of Moses are heightened in the
next
comment in the midrash that says that when Moses was born the
whole
house became flooded with light, a phenomenon enhanced when the
text
connects the word good, tov, with Genesis 1:4, "God saw the
light and it
was good."
This line of argument reminds me of many walks through the medieval
sections of art museums all over the world where the birth of
Jesus is
marked with great light and many halos. I think that what is happening
here is that the Jews, writing substantially later than the early
Christians, are working to elevate Moses to a Jesus like figure.
This
line of development continues at section 24 (page 122 in Leviant)
commenting on "and she opened and she saw it the boy."
The midrash trys
to say that the apparent duplication of pronouns here means that
in
opening the ark Pharoah's daughter saw two things, the boy accompanied
by the divine presence, overlooking the fact that the word for
divine
presence, shekhinah, is feminine and the extra pronoun here is
masculine. In this manner the midrash links the infant Moses with
the
divine presence, a presence that is not readily apparent in stories
about him in the Old Testament but is part of the New Testament
accounts
of the conception and birth of Jesus.
By the way, in the New Testament when Joseph, Mary's husband found
out
that her wife was with child of the Holy Spirit, he considered
divorcing
her, a further parallel between with the midrashic account of
the life
of Moses.
At this point in the development of the midrashic biography of
Moses
appears one of the most well known stories about Moses, so well
known
that many kids who have learned it, like the story of Abraham
breaking
his father's idols, think it is in the biblical text itself. At
section
26, p. 123, is the famous story of the burning coal. In short,
after the
baby is weaned, Pharaoh's daughter brings him home and he delights
everybody there, including Pharaoh. When the kid starts taking
off
Pharaoh's crown and putting it on his own head, his magicians
became
suspicious of the aspirations of the child. Some wanted to kill
it and
others felt the baby had no sense yet. Fortunately, Jethro, Moses'
future father in law, happened to be on the scene (see Exodus
18 for an
amazing seen between Moses and Jethro) and he proposed a test
of the
boy. The boy would be given the choice of gold or a buring coal,
choosing the gold would indicate he had sense and could be killed.
The
child reached for the gold, but angelic interference pushed his
hand
towards the coal which he put in his mouth and burned.
This story, in addition to highlighting Moses' angelic support
at a time
of temptation (see for example some of the stories of the tests
Jesus
endured in chapter 4 of Luke), wonderfully solves two problems
in the
biblical narrative: 1) As we saw above, how could Pharaoh have
accepted
his daughter's bringing home a baby? 2) How could the greatest
prophet
according to the text of the Torah itself (Deuteronomy 34:10)
also be
heavy of tongue and slow of speech (Exodus 4:10 and 6:12). Now
we
know.
The point of reading midrash is not to see it as supplementary
facts or
wild inventions, often decried by students driven by a sense of
non-religious fundamental loyalty to the pristine preservation
of the
text, usually one they have never read. Midrash constitutes answers
to
unstated questions. Generations of traditional students, when
reading
Rashi's precise of the midrash in his medieval Bible commentary,
were
trained to ask, "What is bothering Rashi?" In other
words, what is the
problem in the biblical text?
The story of the burning coal, by the way, also appears in Josephus'
retelling of the Moses story in his Antiquities of the Jews (2:201-237).
Because of the early appearance of this story, like the idol smashing
story, which appears in the intertestamental book of Jubilees
(chapter
12), several observations can be made: 1) The no matter when the
midrash
was edited, some of the stories at least in it have ancient roots.
2)
Despite the convincing case I may have made about these midrashim
representing a Christian polemic, if they are older than Christianity,
then it raises the possibility that these stories do represent
a Jewish
influence on Christianity.
Moses in the Piyut
As we have seen in several previous lectures, the map of Jewish
cultural
development includes the complex creations of the earlier Hebrew
poets
from Palestine, often dated from between the fourth and seventh
centuries of the common era. Just prior to that period, from around
the
third to the fourth centuries arose a form of poetry known as
Hekhalot
Hymns. This very early form of Hebrew poetry was connected with
the
larger phenomenon known as Hekhal literature, from the Hebrew
word for
palace, in this case referring to the heavenly palace. This literature
describes in depth the structure of the seven heavens and the
ways to
address the heavenly beings in order to attain the spiritual and
material blessings over which they presided. Some of the most
famous
works of this genre included Sefer Harazim, a second or third
century
Hebrew magic book, written in Hebrew that closely approximates
that of
the Mishnah, and Sefer Enoch, which represents a milestone in
the
development of Jewish mysticism.
Moses, because the intimate connections he had with the deity in
the
biblical text, is singled out in several Hekhalot hymns for similar
supernatural skills. In Moses the Messenger by Yannai (T. Carmi,
The
Penguin Book of Hebrew Verse, pp. 219-220), with a Hebrew title
that
cites an expression explicitly from chapter 3 of Exodus, Moses
is
miraculously transported with his flock to the site of the burning
bush,
with the desert turning green as he passed (making him an early
Zionist
as well). He is turned into an angel and he is taught magic secrets
of
fiery visions by God, moving the events of the divine relation
at the
burning bush from the ground to the heavens. In addition to the
theological level where Moses is presented in many terms very
similar to
those in which Jesus appears, there is a cultural level to this
piyut.
It is an alphabetical acrostic with each line beginning with the
next
letter of the alphabet and the end of each hemistich rhyming.
Kallir
took the theme of fire further in his poetic adaptation of Exodus
3:2 in
which an angel of the Lord appeared before Moses in a burning
fire. In
this work, on p. 221, in which every line starts with the word
fire, the
next word begins an alphabetical acrostic covering the entire
alphabet
in Hebrew (For further piyutim on Moses, see pp. 238-239, 241-244,
246-247, 266-274).
Moses in the Middle Ages
During the middle ages, as Jewish literature became more expansive,
so
too did the role of Moses. He, like Jesus and Mohammed, became
widely
associated with magic. One Jewish magic text, which may have roots
as
early as the fourth century, that circulated was known as the
Sword of
Moses, based on his last words in Deuteronomy 33:29 (the text
and
translation is available in Moses Gaster's Texts and Studies.
In Kabbalah, medieval Jewish mysticism based on the Zohar, a thirteenth
century commentary on the Torah that ultimately roots Kabbalah
in the
teachings of Moses, Moses is depicted as having married the divine
presence, the Shekhinah. Thus, like Jesus, Moses is portrayed
as a man
of God on intimate terms with the deity, seen as being consummated
by
their speaking together, face to face, Exodus 33:11. Moses, however,
was
not adulterous in this union with the Shekhinah since he had ceased
to
have relations with his wife. For further discussion see Gershom
Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism, pp. 199f, and 226f.
Moses remained the measure of all things Jewish. In assessing the
contributions of twelfth century the philosopher and legal writer
Moses
Maimonides to the eighteenth century Moses Mendelssohn, each generation
noted that "From Moses to Moses there was none like Moses."
Moses in the Modern Period
Two of the classic creations of twentieth century Jewish culture,
written by two well identified by non-believing Jews focussed
on Moses
in terms of the discourse of changes in values in modern Jewish
life not
necessarily connected with religion.
The first was by Ahad Haam, (One of the People) the pen name of
the
Hebrew writer, cultural Zionist, Asher Ginsberg (1856-1927). Often
identified as the "agnostic rabbi," Ahad Haam's essays
and editorial
guidance shaped a generation of Jews seeking enlightenment,
modernization, and national identity. Throughout his career, for
which
he was professionally employed by the Wissotzky Tea Company, Ahad
Haam
served as a cultural, spiritual critic of both Theodor Herzl's
political
Zionism and Mica Yosef Berdycewski's call for a Nietzschean
transvaluation of Jewish values. One of the joys of learning to
read
modern Hebrew is the ability to read Ahad Haam's lucid essays
and to
help Hebrew students along many versions of his works have been
prepared
with vowels, vocabulary lists, and explanations. But since much
of his
work has been translated, the novice can easily find a pony for
many of
his essays. His essay Moses, written in 1904, appears in Leon
Simon
translation of Selected Essays, published many times by the Jewish
Publication Society, and in Al Parashat Haderakhim 211ff, in Kol
Kitvei
342ff.
As we have mentioned on several occasions the current theme of
the
relationship between history and memory, a reading of Ahad Ha'am's
can
contribute much to this discussion. He begins with a condemnation
of
the attempt of historical writers to locate the concrete historical
reality behind what he calls historical images of national heroes,
what
we may now call memories. His example is a compelling one, the
imaginary Young Werther of Goethe's literary imagination had a
much
greater impact on the course of many generations of readers, some
of
whose literary excursions ended with suicide, than an actual German
who
lived during the same period. In this sense Werther was real and
the
actual German was as if he had never lived. He thus dismisses
any
attempt to locate the historic Moses as simply of antiquarian
interest
which pales before the image (the memory) of Moses which comes
to his
mind each time he reads the Passover Haggadah. Moses not only
led us for
forty years in the desert but for thousands of years in the deserts,
forming the deepest aspirations of the people.
He then turns to analyze what are the actual qualities of Moses
and asks
who is he an ideal for the Jewish people. Ahad Ha'am then rules
out-perhaps somewhat tendentiously and dismissively-- Moses as
a
warrior, statesman, and lawgiver, settling on identifying Moses
as a
prophet. A prophet is defined as one who can only tell the truth,
an
extremist, committed to absolute justice.
Ahad Ha'am then singles out for attention Moses' intervening on
behalf
of the oppressed: the Hebrew slave being beaten by the Egyptian,
the two
Hebrew slaves fighting, and Jethro's daughters being bullied at
the
well, the only three events that the Torah mentions from Moses'
adult
life until he was 80 and stood before Pharaoh. He moves quickly
past the
events of Sinai and Exodus and focuses on the task before Moses
to
reeducate the Hebrews from their slave mentality during their
long trek.
Here is classic Ahad Ha'am. Slowly he moves from a general
consideration, the relationship between history and memory, to
a
specific topic in Jewish history which he explores with some originality
infusing in with the new categories of Jewish nationalism, Moses
as a
prophet, and then he gradually shifts to address the issues of
his time,
which we can sense will have to do with the transition of Jews
from
their slave mentality. Just as one of the beauties of an ancient
piyut
is how the poet will fit original readings of biblical texts into
the
prescribed format of acrostic and rhyme, the beauty of an Ahad
Ha'am
essay is how he will move the discussion through the standard
categories
of general, Jewish, and reach a critique of contemporary Jewish
life at
the end of the essay.
Here Ahad Ha'am quotes the Kabbalists who said that Moses was
reincarnated in every generation. The spark of prophecy motivated
the
Jews, a people who never lived in the present, towards a vision
of a
better future. A pessimist he defines as someone who thinks about
the
present, an optimist, the future. In this essay he refers obliquely
to
an unspecified time in the modern period when the Jews lost all,
even
their past, by devoting their attention to the present instead
of the
future.
The second important contemporary reading of Moses is Moses and
Monotheism by Sigmund Freud (1856-1939), an essay written in Austria,
after the rise of the Nazis in Germany, published the year he
died,
translated into English in 1955. As is well known Freud represents
not
only an isolated Jewish genius, whose face yet again graced the
cover of
Time magazine, but a generation of alienated Jews functioning,
as both
individuals, as well as a social group, such as in fin de siecle
Vienna. His particular contribution was in the area of psychoanalysis,
which like many Jews who were both marginal to their own community
as
well as to the general community, developed a new field of
investigation.
Our interest is not on the historical truth of Freud's work but
the
processes which went into producing it and the impact which it
had. The
second question, which is dedicated to answering first, is easier
to
answer. For sixty years now Moses and Monotheism has attracted
a great
deal of attention. One of the richest recent studies on the subject
was
produced by the Jewish historian Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, first
in the
International Journal of Psycho-Analysis in 1989 and then in a
book
length study.
In short Freud argues that Moses was an Egyptian, compares the
trials of
Moses to other heroes, including Jesus, and he gave the Egyptian
religion, including circumcision, to the Jews, a people that Freud
does
not speak kindly of, especially rabbinic Judaism. He then asserts,
based
on clues found in the Prophets, that the Jewish people murdered
Moses,
a foreign tyrant. He both casts aspersions on the Church for its
violence and presents Christianity as progress of Judaism, referring
to
the latter as a "fossil."
One of the most profound contributions of this essay, I think,
is
Freud's notion that antisemitism is based on small differences
rather
than on fundamental ones (p. 116), what he calls elsewhere, the
narcissism of small differences, that antisemitism has been based
on
jealousy which the Jews evoked by asserting their chosen status,
and
that antisemitism involves anti-Christian sentiments as well.
Like Ahad Ha'am, Freud also spoke of memory in his essay on Moses,
but
he spoke of memory as an inherited quality, in almost a Lamarkian
sense
of the transmission of acquired characteristics (as we all learned
in
high school this is the view that giraffes have long necks from
reaching
for tall trees, 127-128).
Freud accomplishes several important things here. He both undermines
Judaism as a religion but explains his own continued feelings,
and those
of many others, towards it.
In a word, which is all the time I have left, Yerushalmi's essays
serve
to highlight the Jewish aspects of Freud, including a newly discovered
title page of Moses and Monotheism on which the work is called
a
historical novel and a Hebrew inscription on a book given to Freud
by
his father which Yerushalmi carefully parses.
Conclusion
Moses is very much a creation of Jewish collective memory in every
generation. The biblical text may be the wine skin but each generation
fills it with new wine made from grapes in its own local vineyard.
Finding the historical Moses would be meaningless to so many millennia
of history. Seeing how each generation created its image of Moses
shows
us how Jews created Jewish culture.
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