The Book of Abraham

Rabbi Shimon ben ema Duran and the School of Rabbenu Nissim Gerondi
by Seth (Avi) Kadish

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Copyright 2011 by Seth (Avi) Kadish Some rights reserved Open Content License CC BY-SA 3.0

Original version: Ph.D. dissertation University of Haifa Faculty of the Humanities Department of Jewish History January, 2006 Revised online publication 2011 ' " Rationalist Judaism Blog http://www.rationalistjudaism.com/

Chapter 3. Books of Principles

Books about the Principles of the Torah In 1405, Rabbi Shimon ben ema Duran penned the very first full-fledged, sustained analysis of the principles of the Torah as a concept. This was certainly not the first list of principles of the Torah, but it was the very first essay devoted to asking fundamental questions about such lists in a systematic way. For instance: By what criteria are certain ideas found in the Torah deemed to be its principles while others are not? If one principle is implied by another, should they both be considered principles? How many principles does the Torah have? What are the consequences for denying a principle? Duran's analysis of these and other related questions appears in the introductory chapters to Ohev Mishpat (chapters 8-10),1 his commentary on the book of Job. This was his first non-Talmudic work, which he completed when he was forty-five years old (about fourteen years after he fled from Spain). Following his conceptual analysis of the idea of principles in Ohev Mishpat,2 Duran designed Magen Avot as a book of principles of the Torah, i.e. a book whose very structure is determined by the principles themselves. Its formal structure of three major parts divided into thirteen chapters is a reflection of Maimonides' thirteen principles as divided into three parts,3 while other structural features accommodate further ideas about
1

Kellner, Dogma, contains annotated translations and analysis of part of the introduction to Ohev Mishpat (p. 84), the full content of Ohev Mishpat chapters 8-10 (pp. 84-94), and the formal plan for Magen Avot from the end of its introduction (pp. 94-95). Translations from these sections are his (with occasional modifications). We will supplement these texts with comments by Duran in Ohev Mishpat chapter 1 that are extremely relevant to the structure of Magen Avot as a book of principles, as well as taking into consideration the major deviations of Magen Avot from the basic structure of Maimonides' thirteen principles. That Magen Avot was the later work is is abundantly clear from the internal references in Magen Avot to Ohev Mishpat. In one of them, Duran mentioned his former views in Ohev Mishpat and explained why he changed his mind (see chapter 5). Epstein and Hershman have it that he wrote Magen Avot on the heels of Ohev Mishpat during his forty-fifth year (i.e. in 1406). A chronological order for his bibliographic list, however, might suggest that it was written a number of years later (Ohev Mishpat is #3 while Magen Avot is #8-9, with major halakhic works intervening: Zohar ha-Raki`a and the three volumes of the Tashbaz responsa). However, besides the first and last books on the list, it is not certain that the order of the rest is chronological. The fact that the three volumes of responsa are listed one after another (#5-7) certainly interrupts the chronology, though it is easy to understand why Duran might violate a general tendency towards chronological order so as to group them together. In any case, Magen Avot appears late in the list, just before collections of works that Duran continued to add as God added to his years towards the end of his life, which suggests that it was written many years after Ohev Mishpat. This is supported by Durans comment towards the end of Magen Avot (96a:47) that he was writing in the year 5185 (1425), though this passage could conceivably have been updated by Duran himself. Be the issue of dating as it may, it is clear that Ohev Mishpat came first, and that the structure of Magen Avot is based upon its methodology, as we shall see in this chapter. See the previous chapter, where Duran's introduction in which he explains the book's structure was cited and discussed. On the history of the division of Maimonides' thirteen principles into three groups, usually inspired by the mishnah in Sanhedrin (10:1), see Kellner, ibid., pp. 24-33.

the principles of the Torah that Duran had already expressed in Ohev Mishpat.4 During the same period in Spain, two other members of the school of Gerondi wrote books on the principles of the Torah, each according to his own original system of principles: Or Hashem by asdai Crescas (completed in 1410/11) and Sefer ha-Ikkarim (The Book of Principles) by Rabbi Yosef Albo (completed in 1425). Unlike Duran's Magen Avot, the two latter works abandoned Maimonides' list of thirteen principles entirely. The writing of books on the principles of the Torah, along with the systematic analysis of what such principles are, was a genre unique to the school of Rabbenu Nissim Gerondi. This chapter will begin by defining the time and place of that unique genre in Jewish history, and conclude by showing that Duran's preoccupation with the topic, as well as his specific theory of principles, set him squarely into the school of Gerondi. But in order to show Duran's place in Gerondi's school, we will first nned to explore the overall interest of Gerondi himself in the principles of the Torah, and especially his rejection of creation as a principle. In addition, we will also summarize an early work by a student of Crescas that has never been studied in this context before, namely the Four Columns of Abraham bar Judah, a disciple of asdai Crescas.5 It was written in Crescas' home in 1378, and Shalom Rosenberg has pointed out that many of its themes contribute to our understanding of how Crescas' thought developed.6 We will show that the Four Columns deals not only with principles of the Torah, but also anticipates elements of the structure of Crescas' Or Hashem, and is explicitly based upon a distinction central to the entire school of Gerondi between general providence and specific providence. It also shows a relatively early passion for the principles of Judaism, and I will argue that it is anticipates the three major books on the principles of the Torah from the early 14 th century (Magen Avot, Or Hashem, and Sefer ha-Ikkarim) in both its structure and contents. After this we will return to Duran, contrasting his idea of derivative principles, i.e. doctrines that are logical prerequisites to other principles, to the rejection of creation as a principle by Gerondi and others. The idea of derivative principles is crucial to understanding Duran, because it impacted not only on his theoretical understanding of Maimonides' list of thirteen principles, but also on the very structure and method of Magen Avot. The organization of Magen Avot Part III cannot be understood without this
4

See the end of this chapter. The books true structure is somewhat better reflected in the summary of it given in Durans bibliographical list, which he wrote at the end of his life after composing Magen Avot, than in the introduction he wrote at the books outset. An annotated version of that list may be found in Yoel Katans introduction to Teshuvot Rabbi Shimon bar ema Vol. I (Jerusalem: Makhon Yerushalayim, 1998), pp. 49-53. Shalom Rosenberg, The Arba'ah Turim of Rabbi Abraham bar Judah, Disciple of Don asdai Crescas (Heb.). The summary in this chapter is based upon a full survey which appears as Appendix C to this book. Ibid., pp. 525-527.

preliminary idea, which makes this chapter a necessary introduction to later chapters in the book. At the very end of this chapter we will examine Duran's remarks about the apparently voluminous books he wrote in reaction to reading Crescas' Or Hashem towards the end of his life (he completed them in the years 1436-1438), and what those remarks may indicate about his theory of principles of the Torah.

The Chronology of Dogma in Medieval Jewish Thought The classic books on the principles of the Torah were written in a very specific historical context. Menachem Kellners Dogma in Medieval Jewish Thought examines the central texts on Jewish principles of faith, and succeeds in showing how ideas related to dogmawhat a principle of the Torah means according to Jewish thinkers, which doctrines are counted as principles and which are not, and whydeveloped historically. His study of principles led Kellner to think about the chronology of principles of the Torah, i.e. about when the dogmas of Judaism became the objects of systematic study: Once Saadia Gaon had for the first time methodically expounded the beliefs of Judaism7 in the tenth century, systematic theology became a standard and widely accepted branch of Jewish intellectual endeavor. It was not until the twelfth century, however, that we find the first comprehensive account of the dogmas of Judaism. Maimonides (11351204) was the first non-Karaite Jewish author systematically, selfconsciously, and explicitly to posit specific beliefs which all Jews qua Jews had to accept. In the two centuries following the publication of Maimonides principles the question of the dogmas of Judaism received almost no attention. The fifteenth century saw intensive interest in the subject; with the close of that century, however, the subject disappeared almost entirely from the agenda of Jewish intellectuals, to resurface only in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.8 It is the terminus ad quem of this gap, described here as spanning the entire thirteenth and fourteenth centuries,9 that will concern us here, because Duran himself marked its closure. (Kellner even called the gap From Maimonides to Duran. 10) As we shall see in this chapter, though Duran was indeed the author of the first sustained analysis of the principles of the Torah, significant attention was already paid to the question of principles decades earlier by Rabbenu Nissim Gerondi and members of his school.
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8 9 10

Actually, it is now known (since after Kellners Dogma appeared) that Saadia not only expounded on the beliefs of Judaism but also seems to have been the first author of explicit lists of the principles of the Torah. See Haggai Ben-Shammai, Saadya Gaon's Ten Articles of Faith (Heb.), Da`at 37 (1996), pp. 1126. Introduction, p. 1. More accurately from Maimonides publication of his principles to the fifteenth century, which as Kellner notes elsewhere (p. 67) was actually closer to two hundred and fifty years. The title of Kellner, chapter two, ibid. 66-82.

Furthermore, Sara Klein-Braslavy has shown11 that Gerondis ideas on Creation as a principle of the Torah had a major impact on the two most influential books of principles written in the early fifteenth century, namely those by Crescas and Albo. In Dogma, Kellner traced the origins of two opposing schools of thought on whether or not Creation is a principle to the mutually exclusive influences of Maimonides (Guide II:25) and Gerondi.12 It will be my contention that a fundamental dichotomy exposed by Maimonides in that crucial passage of the Guide was at the very heart of a process which led to the careful attention that Gerondi paid to the matter, and which in turn led the writing of the central books of Jewish principles in the two generations following Gerondi, and can even go a long way towards explaining the the very structure of those books. We will now proceed with Maimonides and Gerondi, continue with Abraham bar Judah's Four Columns, and conclude with a new understanding of how and why Duran's understanding of principles of the Torah led him to write both Ohev Mishpat and Magen Avot, as well as how and why he structured the latter book the way he did.

Creation and the Principles of the Torah Maimonides did not include the creation of the world in his original formulation of the thirteen principles. However, he discussed it extensively in the Guide,13 and towards
11 12 13

Sara Klein-Braslavy, Terumato shel Rabbenu Nissim Gerundi le-`Izzuvan shel Torot ha-`Ikkarim shel asdai Crescas ve-shel Yosef Albo, Eshel Beer Sheva 2 (5740), pp. 177-197. Kellner, ibid,.p. 216. II:13-31. All of the discussions creation in this book, both here and in chapter 5, will reflect Durans assumption that Maimonides exoteric position is his only position. For more regarding that assumption on Durans part about Maimonides for all issues, see chapter 7; also cf. chapter 4, n. 40). For background regarding Maimonides position on creation, see: Thierry Alcoloumbre, Cration ou ternit? L'enjeu de la question chez Mamonide, Pardes 31 (2001), pp. 73-82; E. Bertola, Il problema delleternita del mondo nel pensiero di Mose Maimonide, Sefarad 56 (1996) pp. 339-360; Joseph Dan, "Nachmanides and the Development of the Concept of Evil in the Kabbalah in Mosse ben Nahman I elseu Temps (Gerona: Ajuntament de Girona, 1996), pp. 161-179; Herbert A. Davidson, Maimonides Secret Position on Creation in Isadore Twersky, ed., Studies in Medieval Jewish History and Literature (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1979), pp. 16-40 and Further on a Problematic Passage in Guide for the Perplexed 2.24, Maimonidean Studies 4 (2000), pp. 1-13; James Diamond, The Failed Theodicy of a Rabbinic Pariah: A Maimonidean Recasting of Elisha ben Abuyah, Jewish Studies Quarterly 9 (2002), pp. 353-380; William Dunphy Maimonides and Aquinas on Creation: A Critique of Their Historians in Lloyd P. Gerson, ed., Graceful Reason: Essays in Ancient and Medieval Philosophy Presented to Joseph Owens, CSSR (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1983), pp. 361-379; Seymour Feldman, An Averroist Solution to a Maimonidean Perplexity, Maimondean Studies 4 (2000), pp. 15-30; Jerome Gellman, Jerome Maimonides Ravings, Review of Metaphysics 45 (1991), pp. 309-328; Andrew Gluck, Maimonides Arguments for Creation Ex Nihilo in the Guide of the Perplexed, Medieval Philosophy and Theology 7 (1998), pp. 221-254; Steven Harvey, Averroes Use of Examples in his Middle Commentary on the Prior Analytics, and Some Remarks on his Role as Commentator, Arabic Sciences and Philosophy 7 (1997), pp. 91-113; Warren Zev Harvey The Mishneh Torah as a Key to the Secrets of the Guide in G. Blidstein et al eds., Me'ah She'arim: Studies in Medieval Jewish Spiritual Life in Memory of Isadore Twersky (Jerusalem: Magnes: 2001), pp. 11-28; Daniel Hoffman In Between Creating And Created Things: Maimonides' Concept Of The Creation in Irene Kajon, ed., La storia della filosofia ebraica (Milan: Cedam, 1993), pp. 81-97; Michael Zvi.Nehorai, The Manner in Which Maimonides Expressed his Views on Creation, Da'at 37 (1996), pp. 119-126; Tamar Rudavsky, Philosophical Cosmology in Judaism, Early Science and Medicine 2 (1997), pp. 149184; Norbert Samuelson, Maimonides Doctrine of Creation, Harvard Theological Review 84 (1991),

the end of his life he even revised his original formulation of the fourth principle to include it.14 The Maimonidean passage that had extraordinary influence on future books of principlesinfluence that went far beyond the specific question of creationis the following (Guide II:25):15 Our belief that the deity is not a body destroys for us none of the foundations of the Law and does not give the lie to the claims of any prophet. The only objection to it is constituted by the fact that the ignorant think that this belief is contrary to the text; yet it is not contrary to it, as we have explained, but is intended by the text. On the other hand, the belief in eternity the way Aristotle sees itthat is, the belief according to which the world exists in virtue of necessity, that no nature changes at all, and that the customary course of events cannot be modified with regard to anythingdestroys the Law in its principle, necessarily gives the lie to every miracle, and reduces to inanity all the hopes and threats that the Law has held out, unlessby God!one interprets the miracles figuratively also, as was done by the Islamic internalists;16 this, however, would result in some sort of crazy imaginings. If, however, one believed in eternity according to the second opinion we have explained17which is the opinion of Platoaccording to which the heavens too are subject to generation and corruption, this opinion would not destroy the foundations of the Law and would be followed not by the lie being given to miracles, but by their becoming admissible. It would also be possible to interpret figuratively the texts in accordance with this opinion. And many obscure passages can be found in the texts of the Torah and others with which this opinion could be connected or rather by means of which it could be proved. However, no
pp. 249-271; M. Schneider, The Form And Formation Of Man In Maimonides Philosophy in A. Lvov I. Dvorkin and M. Virolainen eds., Greki i evrei: dialog v pokoleniiakh (St. Petersburg: Peterburgskii evreiskii universitet, 1999), pp. 137-154; Dov Schwartz, On Maimonides Disputations with Aristotelian Philosophy: A New Look at the Purpose of Existence, Iyyun 47 (1998), pp. 129-146; Kenneth Seeskin, Maimonides Conception of Philosophy in David Novak, ed., Leo Strauss and Judaism: Jerusalem and Athens Critically Revisited (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 1996), pp. 87-110 and Maimonides, Spinoza, and the Problem of Creation in Heidi M. Ravven and Lenn E. Goodman, eds., Jewish Themes in Spinoza's Philosophy (Albany: SUNY Press, 2002), pp. 115-130; idem., Searching for a Distant God: The Legacy of Maimonides (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000); Masha Turner, Examinng the Relationship Between the Opinions on Creation and the Opinions on Prophecy in the Guide of the Perplexed, Da'at 50-52 (2003), pp. 73-82; Roslyn Weiss, Maimonides on the End of the World, Maimonidean Studies 3 (1992-93), pp. 195-218. For other medieval views, see Herbert Davidson, The Principle that a Finite Body can Contain Only Finite Power in S. Stein and R. Loewe, eds., Studies in Jewish Religious and Intellectual History Presented to Alexander Altmann (University: University of Alabama Press, 1979), pp. 75-92; Hebert Davidson, Proofs for Eternity, Creation, and the Existence of God in Medieval Islamic and Jewish Philosophy (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987); William Dunphy, ibid.; Robert Eisen, Joseph ibn Kaspi on the Secret Meaning of the Scroll of Esther, REJ 160 (2001), pp. 379-408; Seymour Feldman, In the Beginning God Created the Heavens: Philoponus De Opficio Mundi and Rabbinic ExegesisA Study in Comparative Midrash in J. P. Rothschild, Gad Freudenthal, and G Dahan, eds., Torah et science: perspectives historiques et theoreiquesEtudes offertes a Charles Touati (Leuven: Peeters, 2001), pp. 37-69 and Philoponus on the Metaphysics of Creation in Ruth Link-Salinger, ed., A Straight Path: Studies in Medieval Philosophy and CultureEssays in Honor of Arthur Hyman (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1988), pp. 74-85; Steven Harvey, Averroes Use of Examples in his Middle Commentary on the Prior Analytics, and Some Remarks on his Role as Commentator, Arabic Sciences and Philosophy 7 (1997), pp. 91-113; Basil Herring, Joseph ibn Kaspi's Gevia Kesef: A Study in Medieval Jewish Philosophic Bible Commentary (New York: Ktav, 1982); Tamar Rudavsky, Philosophical Cosmology in Judaism, Early Science and Medicine 2 (1997), pp. 149-184.

necessity could impell us to do this unless this opinion were demonstrated. In view of the fact that it has not been demonstrated, we shall not favor this opinion, nor shall we at all heed that other opinion, but rather shall take the texts according to their external sense and shall say: The Law has given us knowledge of a matter the grasp of which is not within our power, and the miracle attests to the correctness of our claims. Know that with a belief in the creation of the world in time, all the miracles become possible and the Law becomes possible, and all questions that may be asked on this subject, vanish. Thus it might be said: Why did God give prophetic revelation to this one and not to that? Why did God give this Law to this particular nation, and why did He not legislate to the others? Why did He legislate at this particular time, and why did He not legislate before or after it? Why did He impose these commandments and these prohibitions? Why did He privilege the prophet with the miracles mentioned in relation to him and not with some others? What was Gods aim in giving this Law? Why did He not, if such was His purpose, put the accomplishment of the commandments and nontransgression of the prohibitions into our nature? If this were said, the answer to all these questions would be that it would be said: He wanted it this way; or His wisdom required it this way. And just as He brought the world into existence, having the form it has, when He wanted to, without our knowing His will with regard to this or in what respect there was wisdom in His particularizing the forms of the world and the time of its creationin the same way we do not know His will or the exigency of His wisdom that caused all the matters, about which questions have been posed above, to be particularized. If, however, someone says that the world is as it is in virtue of necessity, it would be a necessary obligation to ask all those questions; and there would be no way out of them except through a recourse to unseemly answers in which there would be combined the giving the lie to, and the annulment of, all the external meanings of the Law with regard to which no intelligent man has any doubt that they are to be taken in their external meanings. It is then because of this that this opinion is shunned and that the lives of virtuous men have been and will be spent in investigating this question. For if creation in time were demonstratedif only as Plato understands creationall the overhasty claims made to us on this point by the philosophers would become void. In the same way, if the philosophers would succeed in demonstrating eternity as Aristotle understands it, the Law as a whole would become void, and a shift to other opinions would take place. I have thus explained to you that everything is bound up with this problem. Know this. In this crucial passage, Maimonides has linked two claims: First, that the possibility of miraclesand the viability of the Law along with itstands or falls based on the question of divine volition (as per the Torah) or necessity (as per Aristotle). Second, that the first question is inextricably bound up with the problem of creation versus eternity.
14

For extensive discussion of this see Kellner, Dogma, pp. 53-61. Guide to the Perplexed, trans. Shlomo Pines (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963), vol. 2, pp. 328-330. 16 Isma`ili. 17 See Guide II:13.
15The

The fate of the second claim in later centuries is fairly straightforward. On the one hand, as Kellner has shown,18 the majority of later thinkers accepted Maimonides stated position, leading many of them to posit creation as the central principle of Judaism (in an analytic or axiomatic sense). On the other hand, Klein-Braslavy has shown that Gerondi (who in turn influenced Crescas and Albo) chose to reject Maimonides second claim by freeing the problem of creation versus eternity from the question of volition versus necessity. The roots of Gerondis rejection of the creation of the world as a principle of the Torah are latent in the passage from the Guide cited above, where Maimonides declared the centrality of creation. It was Maimonides himself, after all, who set up Platos conception of creation as a kind of eternity that could coexist with a volitional universe. It is thus not the question of the eternity of matter that is most crucial, but rather the conception of God that lies behind is. It is well worth citing Gerondi in full (the Hebrew original is included here because the book is not widely available): , " , , . , , , " " " ) , (, .() " , , " , , , ' ... There is no doubt that had the Torah not explained the matter of creation, and a person accepted eternity in the sense that God cannot be thought of as capable of creating, as the philosophers believedthat for this person the Torah must fall in its entirety, and he cannot believe in the commandments in any way. But one who believes in the commandments despite believing in eternityhe cannot believe in it that way,19 for if everything happens out of necessity then God did not command the portion: This month shall mark for you the beginning of months (Exodus 12:2), [and] that [God] will not punish with cutting off he who eats leavened bread [on Passover], as is written in it (v. 15). Therefore, anyone who who observes a commandment and accepts the Torah despite accepting the eternity of the world, justifying this by thinking that it is Gods will that the world's existence has not ceased,20 not that He cannot be conceived to do its opposite, and thus his
18 19

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P. 213. My emphasis here and below. According to Aristotle, anything that is eternal is necessary (Generation and Corruption 338a1-4; Physics 203b28; Metaphysics 1050b815), and this is clearly the basis for Maimonides' comments in Guide II:25, cited above. It is unclear if Gerondi denies this and accepts the possibility of a volitional eternity, or if he means that for one who believes this (perhaps mistakenly) the Torah need not fall. In either case, creation is no longer an axiom, and according to Gerondi this becomes the reason for Rabbi Isaac's question about why the Torah begins with Genesis. This comment is clearly echoed by Crescas in Or Hashem III:1:5.

belief harms nothing in his Torahfor this reason Rabbi Isaac explained that the Torah need not have begun [with Genesis] but with the commandments21 In other words, if a person can conceive of the world's eternity a parte ante in terms of volition rather than necessity, then there is no need to regard creation as an axiom of the Torah andjust as Maimonides himself suggested regarding Plato's view of creationthe creation of the world in time, ex nihilo, need not be singled out as something upon which the Torah stands or falls. The world's creation thus remains one of the many truths taught by the Torah, with no special status as a principle of the Torah. All this debate about Maimonides second claim clearly shows that there was much concern with the general question What is a principle of the Torah? during the late lifetime of Gerondi (a concern that deeply influenced his students), along with the more specific question of whether creation is to be counted as one of them. This is decades earlier than the early fifteenth century works of Duran (Ohev Mishpat, 1405) and Crescas (Or Hashem, 1410/11).22 We must not, however, let the debate over the status of creation as a specific principle, important as it may be, overshadow the wall-to-wall agreement with Maimonides stated views in his first claim, namely that the Torah stands or falls on the question of divine volition versus necessity. We will deal with divine volition as a central theme in Magen Avot in later chapters,23 and show that the passion for this theme is mirrored in the writings of Gerondi and all of his students. In this chapter we will show that all of the books in the principles of the Torah genre were written primarily in opposition to Aristotelian naturalism and those who interpreted the Torah according to it. Divine volition is central to all of these books, as is their firm opposition to the kind of radical naturalistic exegesis that becomes necessary precisely when volition is denied.24 Allegiance to Maimonides openly stated position on Divine volition is the chief characteristic of every one of these books. Thus, a very deep concern with volitionconcern that coincided with what Maimonides wrote in the above passageis what lay at the heart of the debate over whether or not creation is a principle of the Torah. Though Gerondi, followed by most of his students, famously rejected creation as a principle of the Torah, he toowriting decades before any of the major books of principles were to be pennedgranted special status to a number of other ideas in the Torah, showing his concern not only for what
21 22 23 24

Rabbenu Nissim ben Re'uven Gerondi (Ha-Ran): Perush al ha-Torah, ed. Leon Aryeh Feldman (Jerusalem: Makhon Shalem, 5728), p. 4. Gerondi died in 1376 (see chapter 1 n. 7). His commentary on the Torah is incomplete; its abrupt end near the beginning of the portion Hayyei Sarah (Genesis 23:20 to be precise) was because of his death. In the last two chapters of this book (chapter 5 on creation and miracles, and chapter 6 on prayer). Recall here Maimonides' dismissal of one who interprets the miracles figuratively because of his belief in Aristotelian eternity of the world, which would result in some sort of crazy imaginings.

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defines a principle of the Torah (as expressed in the creation issue), but also for the question of which ideas are principles of the Torah. He mentions all of the following in his Twelve Sermons:25 1. Existence and Unity of God: These are called roots (#9), and unity is also a principle (#7). The first two of the ten commandments, which for Gerondi relate to the existence and unity of God, are called two cornerstones of the Torah (second version of #5 and #9) and the foundations of the Torah (second version #5, and also cited in the name of Gerondi in his student's commentary on the Torah 26). These two commandments are also the pillar of the Torah and its root (#9). 2. Miracles: That what is impossible according to nature is not impossible for God is a crucial point about which Gerondi declares, This is the greatest cornerstone of the religion, and he who denies it denies the entire religion by entirely denying reward and punishment. And since this is the axis (kotev) of the the Torah around which redemption which is an axiom (???) of the Torahrevolves, God wanted to spread this opinion in the Land of Egypt, for that is the land of sorcerers and magicians (#3). Egypt thus became the proving-ground for the existence of miracles, which not even the sorcerers and magicians could produce with their natural wisdom. 3. The Exodus: The exodus from Egypt is, as we just mentioned, a primary example of a miracle and a central event in the Torah. Gerondi thus calls it the foundation of the Torah for it shows that the divine aspect clings to us (#1). The first month is the one in which the exodus occurred because it is fitting that we base our count on the roots of the Torah and not on nature (#3). 4. Two more general ideas related to nature versus miracles, which Gerondi calls roots (but not roots of the Torah) concern the role of nature. The first is that God generally lets nature follow its own rules unless there is a great need for interference. The second is that natural events have general natural causes operating through a chain of events, but not specific (volitional) causes. 5. Freedom of choice for man is singled out by Gerondi: Whoever denies this, will deny the entire Torah (#5).27 6. On the idea that a person merits the world to come through performing even one commandment, Gerondi agrees with Maimonides that this is a principle of the belief in the Torah, a root, and even an extremely precious root (#6), though he disagrees about what it means.
25

Some (but not all) of the examples that follow were pointed out previously by Klein-Braslavy. al ha-Torah le-Rabbenu Yosef ben David mi-Saragosa, ed. Leon Aryeh Feldman (Jerusalem: Makhon Shalem, 1973), p. 164. 27 Cf. Gerondis commentary to Genesis 15:14 (which also touches upon Divine knowledge).
26Perush

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7. The very thoughts that lie behind a transgression may be said to deny the cornerstones of the Torah (#6). 8. Three cornerstones proven through the binding of Isaac are: (1) How great is the love of God in the hearts of His servants; (2) that the prophets have no doubt that their prophecies come from God; and (3) the eternity of the soul. There seems to be no systematic criterion that can explain which ideas Gerondi singles out for their importance as principles or cornerstones or roots, nor is there any clear rule that determines which term he applies to each. Neither the examples themselves, nor the terms used to single them out, are the function of a system. Rather, they are quite clearly the function of context: Gerondi was writing a book of sermons, not a book of principles. Nevertheless, the thought-processes revealed here are extremely important: Gerondi took it for granted that certain ideas are more basic to the Torah than others, and he singled them out freely whenever the felt that the context warranted it. As he did so, he also made use of all the classic Hebrew terms for principles of the Torah that had been already used before him, and were soon to be heavily employed in the books of principles written after him. In the case of the creation of the world, beyond specifying and labeling, he also employed an explicit criterion to decide whether or not that specific doctrine counts as a principle of the Torah. As we shall see in this chapter, his students continued to focus on the very same issues for the next two generations. Among them, it was only Duran who chose to rework all of these issues within the original framework of Maimonides thirteen principles (which was abandoned by all the rest). Rather than letting his questions on the topic lead him to an alternative list as it did for others, he instead made room for the ideas of Gerondis school within a nuanced interpretation of Maimonides' principles, which in turn led him to a modified presentation of those principles in the structure of Magen Avot (as we shall see in the last part of this chapter). But first we will examine another early text from Gerondis school, one that exemplifies its early concern with the principles of the Torah roughly three decades before Duran's Ohev Mishpat and Crescas' Or Hashem were written.

The Four Columns of Rabbi Abraham bar Judah In 1984, Shalom Rosenberg published the manuscript of Abraham bar Judahs Four Columns.28 As mentioned earlier, it was written in 1378 in the home of asdai Crescas
28

Since then it has received little attention. On the fourth column, see Eric Lawee, The Path to Felicity: Teachings and Tensions in Even Shetiyyah of Abraham bar Judah, Disciple of asdai Crescas, Mediaeval Studies 59 (1997), pp. 183-223.

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(just two years after the death of Gerondi, Crescas teacher). Here we will make do with a short summary of the work, column by column, that will allow us to evaluate it as a book of principles.29 Column I deals with the existence of God and general providence, Column II with particular levels of providence, Column III with knowledge of the Torah and its benefits, and Column IV with the ultimate purpose of the commandments. The four-part structure of the book is tied in closely with the problem of volition, an idea that is also central to the later books of principles from the early fifteenth century. Column I is the longest of the Four Columns by far, with a programmatic introduction followed by a number of subsections. It begins with a brief summary of the classic proofs for the existence of God and His unity. This is followed by spelling out three precious cornerstones of the Torah (pinnot yekarot toriyyot) that support its entire structure: God is characterized by volition and kindness. God has full knowledge of His creations in all of their details. This knowledge is part of His essence which gives them reality (not through receiving knowledge of them externally). There are no limits to God's power, and He depends on no resource outside of Himself. These three cornerstones are followed by two great questions that must be addressed in order to strengthen the faith of Israel: Divine Omniscience: Does God know only eternal generalities or is He also aware of particular events? How can Divine foreknowledge be reconciled with contingent events that are not predetermined? These two related questions, both of them about divine knowledge, lead to an important discussion of the eternity of God's knowledge and His will, which never change, and this leads to further discussions of problems such as creation at a specific point in time, miracles, the immutability of the Torah, and human free will. Though there are quite a few tangential discussions and significant redundancies in Column I, its overall theme is clearly what Abraham bar Judah called general providence. This is the one eternal act of volition by which God created the world and continues to know it and provide for it. General providence is Abraham bar Judah's alternative to naturalistic models of the Aristotelians. However, the model of general providence does not go far enough. Alone, it
29

Since the Arba'ah Turim has never been described in English, a full survey of its contents (upon which this summary is based) is included as Appendix C to this book.

13

cannot explain why God chose to give certain laws to a certain people or how there can be divine providence for individuals. These are the kinds of problems that led Maimonides to declare that naturalism leads to the nullification of the Torah, and are dealt with in the next column. Column II is about the different levels of providence among the creations. When it comes to the three great levels of creation, namely the separate intellects, the spheres, and the lower world, it may be said that the higher levels receive God's emanation more directly than the lower levels, which receive it through the intermediaries above them. In the lower world, providence works differently for different creatures. For mankind, even though all are equal in humanity, their individual providence is not equal, and the reason for this is the laws they live by: More and better laws serve to prepare certain people and nations to receive more substantial individual providence. In the case of Israel the situation is even more radical: The Torah completely bypasses the higher level of the cosmos, and directs divine providence to Israel with no intermediaries. In other words, in the case of Israel there is a mechanism for direct specific providence that is greater than the general laws of nature but it itself a part of God's eternal, unchanging volition. Column III is a short, mostly homiletic section on the study of the Torah. Abraham bar Judah stressed that the commandments are be performed with understand, not blindly, because they inculcate important ideas about the relationship between God and human beings. In other words, in addition to physical performance of the commandments, there is also a value in contemplation. Column IV is about the purpose of the commandments.30 It has important implications for the place of the intellect and the value of philosophical study, suggesting parallels with Duran, and we will therefore deal with it at length within this summary. Abraham bar Judah rejected naturalistic conceptions of felicity that depend on intellectual perfection alone, and saw performance of the commandments as an essential instrument of perfection.31 Like other rabbis of his age he was concerned about philosophical antinomianism, which he polemicized against in this column. Lawee suggests, however, that even as he censured philosophic teachings that emphasized a contemplative ideal, Abraham bar Judah was himself was drawn to that ideal as well, which may have created somewhat of a spiritual quandary for him. The problem, in a nutshell, is this: Even though performance of the commandments is an essential condition for reaching human felicity, the highest level of perfection nevertheless depends upon
30

31

Lawee, The Path to Felicity (above, n. 28) is devoted entirely to Column IV, making this column the only one of the Four Columns that has received any significant attention from a modern scholar. The description here is largely based on Lawee's analysis. For Abraham bar Judah this would seem to imply severe ramifications for non-Jews, since as noted above (in the discussion of Column II) the Torah canceled the seven laws of Noah in his opinion.

14

contemplation and the perfection of the intellect.32 There is no doubt a tension here, and it is a tension that Abraham bar Judah shared with his contemporaries. As we saw when we explored the Abraham model in chapter 2, nearly all the figures in the school of the Gerondi saw intellection as something positive and precious, as long as its dangers were avoided and it didnt interfere in any way with the wholehearted performance of the commandments. This shared attitude is reflected in Abraham bar Judah's fascinating parable of the tree and the birds, already translated and discussed by Lawee.33 In that parable the king promises to reward anyone who can bring down birds (representing wisdom) from the top of a tree (representing the commandments), but without disturbing the tree in any way. However, if a person disturbs the tree in his attempt to bring down the birds, then he is to be severely punished. The reward for bringing down the birds is not a naturalistic consequence in this parable, but the result of the kings direct wish (i.e. the volitional God demanded by the school of Gerondi rather than a naturalistic God without volition). But most striking is the king's very desire that the birds be procured by men: God desires men to strive for wisdom despite the very real danger that such efforts may disturb their performance of the commandments. Abraham bar Judah's parable thus reveals a serious tension between competing ideals, a tension that was expressed in various ways by Gerondi and a number of his students. Duran had a different way of illustrating the very same tension: As we saw in chapter 2, he wrote Magen Avot for those who wanted to explore the Abraham's path of intellectual exertion in an effort to establish the truth, despite the fact that the Torah of Moses would seem to make any such effort entirely superfluous. Writing Magen Avot according to the path of Abraham thus shows the attraction of the contemplative ideal for him as well.

The Four Columns as a Book of Principles Abraham bar Judah's Four Columns shows great interest in the principles of the Torah. It singles out certain ideas as more basic to the Torah than others, sometimes in an analytic or axiomatic sense.34 The problems that it deals with are more or less the same as in the works dealing with the principles of the Torah that were to be written decades later in first quarter of the 15th century, and many of the ideas it expresses are similar or identical.35 Its terminology and some of its concepts also bear a striking resemblance to
32 33 34 35

Lawee, pp. 198 ff. Ibid. The distinction between analytic and axiomatic systems of principles is applied by Kellner to Crescas (pp. 125-127) and Albo (pp. 149-151) respectively. The similarities to Crescas in particular have already been explored by Rosenberg in his notes to the text, so we have not dwelt upon them here.

15

Gerondi's Derashot. The structure of the book differs from the later books of principles in that each column (or subsection of a column) is not always devoted to one principle. Therefore, what is most import when comparing Abraham bar Judah's Four Columns to later works that deal with principles of the Torah is his formal distinction between Column I and Column II: The former is devoted to God's existence and His general knowledge and volition, general in the sense of creating eternal natural laws. This view is opposed to the concept of naturalistic emanation (for God could have chosen not to create the world). Alone, however, it nevertheless fails to account for acts of specific providence, like the election of Israel; the mechanisms for such specific providence are supplied only in the Column II. The distinction between the Columns I and II bears a strong resemblance to the structure of Parts I-III of Crescas Or Hashem36 (though Abraham bar Judah's columns are less clearly organized). Column I roughly corresponds to Or Hashem Parts I-II (the existence of a volitional God), and the Column II to Or Hashem Part III (matters specific to the Torah of Israel). What is important for our purposes is this: Although the Four Columns has no direct parallel in the structure of other books of principles, the basic idea of how general and specific providence complement each other was taken for granted by all of them. In fact, it was a central idea shared by all members of Gerondi's school, a point that we will examine in depth in the last part of this book, 37 but it was made most explicit by Abraham bar Judah in his distinction between Column I and Column II. Also important, and more immediately relevant to our present discussion, is the early preoccupation of Abraham bar Judah with the idea of principles of the Torah and his use of various terms for them. This preoccupation is shared with Gerondi, and they both anticipate the later, full-fledged works of Duran, Crescas, and Albo. Columns III and IV both deal with what the later books of principles also called the ultimate end (takhlit) of the Torah and the felicity of man: What we have here is a version of the critique of the Acquired Intellect, a critique that Abraham bar Judah shared with all of the later books of principles.38 In short, preoccupation with the principles of the Torah is evident in both Gerondi and Abraham bar Judah, decades before the early 15 th century books on the topic were written. This interest is reflected in the identification of specific doctrines as principles, in the use of various key terms to indicate them, and in the beginnings of systematic questioning about what makes a doctrine qualify as a principle. Abraham bar Judahs book
36 37 38

This is an overall similarity that was not noted or discussed by Rosenberg, who pointed out parallels between Abraham bar Judah and Crescas regarding their specific ideas. Chapters 5-6. This will be discussed in chapter 4 within the context of Duran's anthropology.

16

went further than Gerondi in that it not only reflected interest in the topic, but even began to anticipate the path that such books would take later in their structure and contents. Sustained interest in the principles of the Torah over the course of several generations, and the eventual composition of full-fledged books of principles, are part of a process that can be clearly identified as a shared characteristic within the school of Rabbenu Nissim Gerondi.

Books of Principles: Intellectual Challenge versus Religious Persecution The Four Columns contains one polemic passage against Christianity, but antiChristian argumentation was not the major focus of the treatise. The brief polemic was nevertheless a sign of the times: 14th century Spain, even before 1391, was not an easy environment for Spanish Jews. In this, too, the Four Columns is similar, though not identical, to later works on principles: Duran's Magen Avot and Albo's Sefer ha-Ikkarim both contain major polemical sections within books that nevertheless seem to be far more concerned by philosophy than by Christianity, at least in terms of the overt topics making up the bulk of their contents. 39 As for Crescas, his polemical tract is a short, separate work with no overt connection to his major book of principles.40 These full-fledged polemical sections or separate works are far more sustained for the later writers than for Abraham bar Judah, whether one considers the anti-Christians chapter in Sefer ha-Ikkarim, the chapter against both Christianity and Islam41 in Magen Avot (which is the size of a full-length book in itself), and Crescas booklet-length treatise; surely all this sustained interest was also a sign of how times had changed for the worse since Abraham bar Judah. Nevertheless, for Crescas, Duran and Albo, just as for Abraham bar Judah before them, the primary goal of their books of principles remains largely in overcoming Aristotelian naturalism and philosophic antinomianism, not Christianity. That the flowering of interest in the principles of Judaism in the early 15 th century was directly related to severe persecution by a creed-orientated religion is incontrovertible.42 It more difficult to explain, however, why the primary product of that persecution was in writing books of principles that struggled with philosophic naturalism, rather than polemical tracts against Christianity. Had the Christian creed been
39

For Duran this is Magen Avot II:4, later published separately and best known as Keshet U-Magen (see chapter 1 for details). For Albo, the relevant sections are Sefer ha-Ikkarim I:20; III:19, 21, 25; IV:30. 40 Bittul Ikkarei ha-Nozerim [=The Refutation of the Christian Principles], trans. with an introduction and notes by Daniel J. Lasker (New York, 1992). 41 Duran had already been living in North Africa for at least fifteen years when he wrote Magen Avot, and perhaps much longer. 42 Kellner, pp. 80-82.

17

the central challenge for these writers, the topic of principles would have been dealt with amongst their polemics, rather than putting their polemics inside their books of principles or alongside them. From the evidence in this chapter, it is reasonable to suggest that the phenomenon of books dealing with principles of the Torah came from two complementary sources: internal interest on the one hand, and external pressure on the other. Only the combination of the two was strong enough to produce the flowering of interest in principles of the Torah during the early 15th century. 1. Internal interest: Long before the worst waves of persecution, medieval science was already the subject of intense, positive interest in the halls of Torah study in Spain. Gerondis Derashot are one of the earliest reflections of this fact. Duran's embracing of rational inquiry as an intrinsically worthwhile supplement to tradition and his declared goal for Magen Avot to fulfill the path of Abraham (as we saw in chapter 2), reflects this as well. This sustained engagement with philosophy among Gerondi and at least two generations of his students was often critical, but nevertheless reveals profound respect for the achievements of human intellect and, even more importantly, that they saw inherent value in its in-depth study without acrimony, despite their clear rejection of some of its conclusions. Most striking from this perspective is Crescas, whose deep engagement with rational inquiry for religious reasons led to new philosophical insights. In this, the school of Gerondi in latter part of the late 14 th and early 15th centuries differed radically from that of Nahmanides and his students a century before; they too studied medieval science as a practical matter, but not as something that deeply mattered deeply to them. All of this positive interest and sustained study, however, was in the context of the traditional Jewish study hall, not the modern university. Thus, it was precisely the conceptual tension between tradition and the results of intellectual inquiry, rather than the detailed contents of the latter, that evoked the most interest. Direct interest in principles grew in exactly those areas where this tension could not be resolved, and an alternative to the philosophical model had to be offered: Principles of the Torah are necessary building blocks for such an alternative model. Why, for instance, is the existence of Abraham not a principle of the Torah? If Abraham never really lived, and God made no covenant with him for his children, then the Torah falls. The medieval books on principles of the Torah would surely answer that Abrahams life was a particular contingent event taught by the Torah like countless others, and not a general principle. Obviously, had the the medieval books of dogma not excluded such examples, no list of principles would have had an end. Nevertheless, it seems that the exclusion of particular events or commandments from lists of principles of the Torah 18

by two generations of Gerondi's students had much to do with their specific need to create an alternative to Aristotelianism. In other words, the underlying reason why the existence of Abraham need not be listed as a principle of the Torah is not because it is an individual event, but precisely because the philosophers never denied that he existed. The Aristotelians believed in contingent historical events; they had no reason to deny that Abraham once lived. Rather, what their world view eliminated were breaches in the general naturalistic scheme of things, such as specific providence and miracles which indicate changes in God's knowledge or reactions in His will as circumstances change in the world. Because the Aristotelians denied that God willingly interfered in Abraham's life or anyone else's, it was precisely here that an alternative model was called for, a model allowing for acts of divine volition to override natural causation in principle. It is therefore doctrines such as these (God's knowledge of particulars, special providence, miraculous prophecy, individual reward and punishment, and the immortality of the individual's soul) that were designated as principles of the Torah. Since, as Maimonides clearly saw, nothing is more central to the medieval tension between philosophy and tradition than the alternative conceptions of necessary emanation versus volitional creation, this is what indeed became the central running theme at the very heart of all the books that were concerned with principles of the Torah. The fact that Maimonides had tied in this problem with what became the classic test case for specific acts of divine volition, namely creation, in Guide II:25, facilitated the later interest in other principles as well, as an outgrowth of the general struggle to provide a model of divine volition. The need to provide such a model was itself the result of sustained, positive engagement with intellectual inquiry in the yeshivot of Spain. Though such engagement was often positive, there was still a pressing need to clarify alternatives when no reconciliation was possible. It is crucial to emphasize that an intellectual culture lacking an ongoing, positive engagement with both the rabbinic tradition and the Aristotelian corpus could never have produced a preoccupation with the principles of the Torah. Such was the case for the previous Spanish rabbinic school of Nahmanides and Rashba (which frowned upon such preoccupation and whose alternative conceptions of the world were largely rooted in the kabbalah) as well as for the radical Spanish Maimonideans of their time (who often lacked sustained, vigorous engagement with the rabbinic tradition). Rather, the requisite mutual engagement began in Spain with Gerondi, who was followed by his students. 2. External pressure: Christian persecution of the Jews in Spain did not begin in 1391. Gerondi and his students were sent to prison on false charges in the 1370s. The 19

bridge connecting Christian persecution to principles of the Torah was the fear (justified or not) of philosophical antinomianism.43 If the entire value in performing the commandments lies in the political realm, then apostasy appears less frightening. The more a Jew is convinced that felicity comes through performance of the commandments of the Torah alone, and that God knows and rewards such performance, the better he can justify standing firm in his faith despite persecution. Thus, the confluence of longtime internal interest and increasingly violent external pressure is what ultimately produced the full flowering of the late medieval discussion of principles, starting with Duran's Ohev Mishpat in 1405. But strong indications of what was to come were already clearly evident several decades earlier. Additionally, it should be emphasized that for these writers, the conflict with philosophy differed radically from the conflict with Christianity on an emotional level. Anti-Christian polemical treatises rarely give the impression of being true engagement with the enemy. No intellectual threat seems evident, just ridicule; the true threat is a political, financial, and physical one. Anti-Christian treatises do not seem to engage an opponent who has something significant to say, but rather to serve as doctrinal manuals meant to be used in battles with an enemy who comes without good ideas, but unfortunately with the force of arms. The conflict with philosophy gives the opposite impression: Here the enemys weapons are seductive, compelling and powerful ideas. There is no physical threat, only an intellectual one, and while the intellectual threat may not command surrender, it certainly demands respect. Thus, the radically different characters of these two simultaneous conflicts, along with the widespread notion connecting them (i.e. that naturalism engendered an apathy towards the Torah which ultimately resulted in surrender to Christianity), is what led to the writing of books of principles whose principle engagement was with rational philosophy, not Christianity, specifically during a time of severe Christian persecution.

Duran: From Ohev Mishpat to Magen Avot Explicit written discussion of principles by Duran preceded that of Crescas (though the latter was the elder of the two contemporaries). This applies not only to the chapters on the topic in Ohev Mishpat, which Kellner has analyzed in depth, but also to the structure and content of Magen Avot, which is based upon that preliminary discussion in Ohev
43

Lawee (pp. 194 ff.) contains an excellent, balanced presentation of the different historical possibilities as to what degree such antinomianism was a historical reality among Spanish Jews in this era. Note that if the fear of antinomianism is connected to Christian persecution, then Column IV of Abraham bar Judah becomes an anti-Christian polemic in its entirety.

20

Mishpat. In his introductory chapters to Ohev Mishpat, Duran singled out two doctrines for special treatment, namely the creation of the world and divine providence. The Torah depends on the possibility of miracles, but there can be no miracles (it would be impossible for things to deviate from their natures at all) if the world is eternal a parte ante. Similarly, there can be no Torah without a form of divine providence that relates to individuals. Duran continued by stating that providence necessarily follows from belief in creation. The chain of logical necessity is as follows, where each concept allows for the possibility of the next one: Creation of the world >> providence >> miracles >> divine Torah Creation is the foundational act of providence. In the first chapter of Ohev Mishpat, Duran explained how creation proves that providence must continue to operate afterward: The intellect requires one to believe that the Cause of all causes, blessed be He, provides for the needs of His creations, giving a man what he deserves according to his actions. This is the perfection of His character, and the opposite would be a fault even for lowly men, all the more so for Him whom the intellect requires that all perfections be found in Him... The reason these two doctrines (creation and providence) are singled out by Duran is not just because the Torah cannot exist without them. As he makes clear in Ohev Mishpat chapter 1, each of them is a primary example of a doctrine that cannot be easily established, if at all. While the set of basic doctrines about God (existence, unity, incorporeality) can be logically proven with no room left for doubt, this is not true of the creation of the world and individual providence: The second set of investigations, for which the human intellect cannot provide absolute proof: This is the investigation as to whether the world is created or eternal. For to bring an absolute proof for this is not in the capacity of the human mind, but for God alone. For logical proof involves proving from that which comes after from what came before it, since knowledge is only when a thing is known through its causes, when it has causes. But nothing preceded the world besides God, blessed be He, while knowledge of His essence is hidden from any besides Him (though we do apprehend His existence). Therefore, the gates of logical proof are closed to all for this investigation, except for God. The third set of investigations, for which the intellect proves them but the senses deny them: This is the investigation of providence, for the intellect forces one to believe that He who is the Cause of all causes, blessed be He, provides for the needs of His creations... However, the senses deny this, for how many evildoers have prospered, and how many righteous menthe opposite! This has led some to intellectually deny providence, [claiming] that it is not a lack in His character, may He be blessed. But it is not the intellect that has led them to this; rather, they 21

tried to appear wise through arguments they considered rational, in order to make the intellect conform with reality...

In general, said Duran, the Torah simply states its doctrines without proving them. This is even the case for creation, which can never be fully proven through human reason. The one great exception to this general rule is providence: Here it is not the lack of human intellectual capacity that creates a problem, but rather the realities that people confront throughout their lives: For how many evildoers have prospered, and how many righteous menthe opposite! That is why the Bible itself includes a book devoted to the rational demonstration of this principle alone, out of all the principles of the Torah (namely the book of Job). Providence is the only principle of the Torah that is continually contradicted by the observation of events in the world. In terms of our understanding Magen Avot as a book of principles, the material from Ohev Mishpat already explains a great deal. Maimonides' thirteen principles, which Magen Avot's thirteen chapters follow, include neither the creation of the world nor the possibility of miracles. Yet the end of Magen Avot (93a-100a) is an extensive essay (III:4, Second Topic) on creation, whose stated goal is to prove the possibility of miracles. Here we find, as we have before, that Duran chose to be more Maimonidean (as he understood Maimonides) than was Maimonides himself: If in the Guide Maimonides argued that the creation of the world is an axiom of the Torah, then it should have been included amongst his principles, but in the version of the thirteen principles available to Duran (as to all of the medievals) it was absent. Since creation is necessary for the possibility of miracles, in Magen Avot Duran analyzed them both in a special essay at the end of his 13 th and final chapter, a chapter formally devoted to the doctrine that is itself the greatest miracle of all, namely the resurrection of the dead (Maimonides' 13th and final principle). It is ironic that Duran himself noted in Ohev Mishpat chapter 9 that since creation is an axiom of the Torah, Maimonides should have included the doctrine that every existent other than He is not eternal a parte ante in his fourth principle. In fact, as we now know from the autograph copy of his Commentary on the Mishnah, Maimonides did exactly that in a marginal addition later in his life. Duran, however, accepted Maimonides' fourth principle for what his version of it contained, setting his lengthy essay on creation rather artificially at the end of his final chapter on resurrection (Magen Avot III:4, Second Topic). That choice was based on his conclusion in Ohev Mishpat that Maimonides justifiably failed to count creation among his principles because it is a derivative principle of miracles (and hence of resurrection). Unlike the creation of the world, the other problematic principle of Ohev 22

Mishpat, namely providence, received its very own chapter of Magen Avot (III:2), for it is one of Maimonides' thirteen (#11). However, despite receiving its own formal chapter, the discussion of it discussion in Magen Avot is relatively brief (far shorter than Duran's discussion of creation). The reason providence is given short shrift in Magen Avot is clear: Providence is the only doctrine, according to Duran, for which the Bible itself includes a book devoted to demonstrating it rationally. Therefore, its analysis best belongs in a commentary on that biblical book, something that Duran already provided in Ohev Mishpat. In Ohev Mishpat chapter 8, Duran also singled out two doctrines for special treatment, but here the focus was on why Maimonides excluded certain doctrines from his thirteen principles. As Maimonides' eleventh principle, providence was irrelevant in this context. But creation remained problematic from this angle as well, since Maimonides didn't count it, and to creation Duran added the principle that man is endowed with the freedom of choice. Just as Maimonides had argued elsewhere for the centrality of creation as an axiom of the Torah, but nevertheless chose not to count it among his thirteen principles, so too did Maimonides cite free will as a principle of the Torah in several places,44 but neglected to include in his list of principles. For free will, as for creation, Duran's technical solution in Magen Avot was to embed the neglected principle within the confines of another topic to which it relates: In III:4, First Topic (On the Soul and its Immortality), he included free will within his discussion of the intellect.45 On the Soul and its Immortality is a massive essay. As well over half of the entire book (35a-93a), the First Topic of chapter III:4, which is formally just part of the book's final chapter, simply dwarfs Duran's division of Magen Avot into thirteen chapters based on Maimonides' thirteen principles. Yet here, too, Duran gave an explicit reason in Ohev Mishpat (chapter 8), where he argued that Maimonides only included those principles which are taught by explicit biblical verses, and further excluded derivative principles. For Duran, derivative principles are doctrines presupposed by those principles which are actually taught by explicit biblical verses, such as creation and providence as explained above: The creation of the world is a necessary assumption in order to allow for the possibility of miracles, which is in turn necessary to allow for providence (in Ohev Mishpat), and for resurrection (in Magen Avot). The essay On the Soul and its Immortality is the same: And since resurrection is the return [of souls] to their bodies, which like all miracles is not natural, therefore we must speak in this [chapter] of two topics: The first is the nature of the soul and its eternity; the second is the matter of miracles, the archetype of which is the creation of the world (Magen Avot 35a:3-4). In
44 45

The eighth of Maimonides' Eight Chapters; Laws of Repentance 5:1-5; Guide III:32. This major section of Magen Avot will be discussed in chapter 4.

23

other words, both the eternity of the soul and the creation of the world are derivative principles of resurrection (13th principle), and that is why Duran's huge chapter on resurrection (Magen Avot III:4, 34b-100a) is almost entirely devoted to these two topics. On more thing must be mentioned about Duran's methodology regarding the creation of the world as a principle of the Torah. In Ohev Mishpat chapter 9 we find that Duran came very close to Gerondi's approach regarding creation as a principle of the Torah:46 You ought further to know that the necessity of believing in the creation of the worldin order to uphold the miracles of the Torah does not relate to absolute creation, i.e., the belief that the world was created from absolute nothingness. For you will not find any of the miracles of the Torah or prophets which involve creation ex nihilo. All of the miracles involve [creation of] something from something: a snake from a staff, manna from the air, and likewise with them all. If creation as it was conceived of by the ancient philosophersthat the world was created from something, its creation involving a transition from chaotic to ordered motionwere proved by demonstration, all the miracles of the Torah would [nevertheless] be upheld by this belief, and we could believe it safely without fear of heresy.

Duran here utilized Maimonides' implied permission to accept Plato's view had it been demonstrated. In chapter 1 of Ohev Mishpat he rejected it in practice based on Maimonides' rule that if reason does not dictate a belief, then there are not sufficient grounds to reinterpret the biblical text in a way that removes it from its plain meaning. In other words, Duran rejected Plato's view on Maimonidean grounds. Their views are not identical because Gerondi was not referring only to the Platonic conception when he wrote about one who accepts the Torah despite accepting the eternity of the world, justifying this by thinking that it is God's will that the world's existence has not ceased, not that He cannot be conceived to do its opposite, and thus his belief harms nothing in his Torah... Nevertheless, the underlying criterion for Gerondi and Duran alike is divine volition.

Lost Works from Duran's Old Age In his bibliographical list, Duran briefly described a plethora of apparently massive essays, all devoted to refuting asdai Crescas Or Hashem and written towards the end of his life (1436-1438). This would seem to confirm that compositions related to principles by such authors and Gerondi, Crescas and Albo did not reach him earlier in North Africa, and that he was unaware of them until Crescas book found its way into his hands decades after
46

Kellner's translation, p. 90.

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the death of its author. Duran seems to have found Or Hashem to be a shocking and deeply disturbing book, for he described his lost writings as follows47: Book Eleven: I addedpraise be added to His praises!thanks to the blessed God who added to my days, and I composed a book which I called Or ha-ayyim (The Light of Life), full of refutations to a book written by Rabbi asdai son of Judah of Saragosa in Aragon. There are 55 chapters in it, the sign being Hen48 the fear of the Lord is wisdom. The author called his book Or Hashem (The Light of the Lord), and when I wrote this book it was over six months since I began the seventysixth year of my life. I wrote it on the 25 th day of Elul of the year the kindnesses of David, which is also the year of the faithful, at the portion for it is your life and the length of your days (Niavim, 5196). Book Twelve: I have further merited that God lengthen my life to this day, when I am seventy-seven years old, close to the end of the seventh year, and I wrote a book which I have called Livyat en; [it contains] notes on the commentary to the Torah by our wise, perfect, great relative Rabbi Levi ben Gershom of blessed memory. I wrote this on the second day of Kislev 5198, portion Vayishla. To this book I added two essays (iggerot) which I called `anakim (probably: necklaces), the first one refutations to the book Or Hashem written by Rabbi asdai Crescas of blessed memory, and I called the second essay Maamar ha-Yiud le-Shimon ibn ema (The Treatise on Unity by Shimon ibn ema), also about refutations to the book Or Hashem, and two more essays on this matter.

What specific topics might these writings refuting Crescas have discussed? Only one of them, The Treatise on Unity, which was the second appendix to Livyat Hen, explicitly declares its topic through its title. The writing habits of Duran, however, make it very likely that even this treatise digressed to many other topics. The book The Light of Life with its 55 chapters, and the four essays (which may themselves have been quite long, even full length books) could conceivably have dealt with any passage in Or Hashem that inflamed the passion of Duran. There are numerous possibilities: 1. Above all, Crescas rejection of the classical proofs for the existence of the deity must have seemed a travesty to Duran, for this is where in his view the Torah and rational investigation are most in harmony, as exemplified by the partriarch Abraham (introduction to Magen Avot). It is also highly likely that Durans Treatise on Unity attempted to shore up the traditional proofs for the existence of God, whose foundations had been shaken by Crescas. 2. Crescas critique of Aristotle: The refutation of Maimonides 26 Aristotelian
47 48

Katan, vol.. 1, pp. 49-53. The numerical value of hen is 55.

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axioms at the beginning of Part II of the Guide was sure to have aroused the ire of Duran. For scientific matters such as the concept of time or the impossibility of a vacuumideas that Duran accepted rather dogmatically, following a consensus that had been in force for centuriesit must have troubled him deeply to see Crescas dismiss them in a few brief pages. 3. Some of Crescas iconoclastic notions about certain principles must have troubled Duran deeply: The concept of eternal creation according to Crescas, human free will, and determinism (in man and nature) are all prime examples. 4. Some of Crescas open questions in Part IV probably troubled Duran a very great deal as well: The possibility of other worlds, whether the spheres are souls and whether they have astrological effects, the existence of demonsDuran had very definite views about all of these things, and they were central to his world view.49 5. Finally, let us consider the very structure of Or Hashem as a book of principles of the Torah. As one who himself wrote about principles parallel to Crescas, Duran structured Magen Avot based upon a clear understanding of Maimonides 13 principles as falling into three groups, a position he had already argued for in Ohev Mishpat. Crescas novel organization of the Torah's principles on several different levels must have seemed strange and foreign to him. Overall, Crescas' very rejection of Maimonides 13 principles must have troubled Duran. When it comes to the specifics, he was likely surprised by a new analytic structure for principles that reduced rather than increased the importance of creation (besides giving it a highly unorthodox interpretation). Seeing other Maimonidean principles reduced to specific beliefs enjoined by the Torah (recompense, resurrection, immutability of the Torah, prophecy of Moses, Messiah) must have bothered him as well. The inclusion of certain specific commandments as principles (Urim, prayer, priestly blessings, repentance, holidays) probably also didnt make sense to Duran. But most importantly, the very idea of rejecting Maimonides' list outright, rather than justifying it and improving it through modifications (i.e. derivative principles) as did Duran, surely ran against the most basic instincts of the North African scholar. While Duran saw himself as completing Maimonides' work on the principles of the Torah, Crescas openly divested himself of that work entirely and started again from scratch. The five possibilities listed above are educated guesses; since the texts are lost, there is no way to verify them. Any or all of them may have been discussed thoroughly by Duran (only Unity is certain). Nevertheless, as someone so concerned with principles, and so deeply awareeven before he read Crescasof the important place that creation may
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Duran discussed these cosmological topics at great length in Part II of Magen Avot (on prophecy). We will survey his views in chapter 4 along with explaining why these issues make up the bulk of Part II.

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hold in systems of principles, it is tempting to suggest that some of Durans refutations were on this topic specifically. It seems very likelythough it cannot be proventhat Duran discussed Crescas system of principles in his voluminous anti-Crescas literature, and it is even possible that he devoted an entire book or treatise to the matter. Thus, the author of the very first systematic analysis of the principles of the Torah and another fullfledged book devoted to the topic, may very well have also written a second such book towards the end of his life. It is a pity that we will never know for sure.

Conclusion The concept of a volitional God who acts within history is at the core of all the the ideas and systems of principles of the Torah to be found among Gerondi and two generations of his students. Maimonides had tied in that concept with the creation of the world, which is why creation became a test-case for the definition of a principle of the Torah. In the case of Duran, the issue of creation and miracles had a powerful impact on the structure of Magen Avot, for it led Duran to develop his idea of derivative principles as a way to both explain and expand upon Maimonides' list of 13. Overall preoccupation with the principles of the Torahthe formulation of terms for principles and lists of them, and the writing of books of principlesbegan with Gerondi and not before, and was a hallmark of his school. It was already evident in the writings of Gerondi and Abraham bar Judah decades before the full-length books of principles were written (by Crescas, Duran and Albo). The necessary internal ingredients for such preoccupation were deep involvement in the rabbinic tradition along with sustained, positive yet skeptical interest in the Aristotelian corpus. These ingredients were to be found in the school of Gerondi, but not in the previous rabbinic schools of Spain (of Nahmanides and Rashba), for whom the intense struggle against the dangers inherent in the study of philosophy, and the firm dedication to a deeply kabbalistic world view, precluded any such development. For the school of Gerondi, these internal ingredients were supplemented by violent persecution from a creed-oriented Christianity on the outside, which gave added impetus to the trend. The books of principles of the Torah produced by Gerondi's students are the primary literary products of a unique intellectual culture, one that combined intense loyalty to traditional conceptions of the Torah with a deep appreciationtempered by honest skepticismfor the achievements of rational inquiry.

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