Table of Contents
Introduction ....................................................................................................... 3
Twentieth Century Perceptions of mysticism and rationalism ............................ 7
Maimonides the anti-mystic? ........................................................................... 11
The blurred line of separation .......................................................................... 14
Maimonides the mystic? .................................................................................. 18
Integration ...................................................................................................... 22
Maimonides’ model of educational development ............................................ 30
The Practical expressions of Maimonides’ educational model ........................ 32
Maimonides’ vision compared to the mystical vision....................................... 39
Conclusion ....................................................................................................... 42
Bibliography ................................................................................................... 45
1
Introduction
At first glance, the question of whether Maimonides can be considered a mystic does not
seem to be a question at all. Maimonides was the prince of the medieval Jewish philosophers,
a rabbi and profound thinker who championed a rationalist approach towards religion which
reached its climax in the writing of his magnum opus, the Guide of the Perplexed, where he
synthesised traditional Jewish teachings with Aristotelian philosophy. Scholars of Jewish
mysticism and philosophy in the past century have largely concurred that if Maimonides had
any relationship with mysticism or mystical groups it was one of opposition and disregard; In
2006 Menahem Kellner published a book with the introductory approbation of leading
contemporary scholar of Jewish mysticism Moshe Idel describing Maimonides as a staunch
crusader against mysticism in all its forms.1
Yet in assessing Maimonides’ relationship to mysticism this essay addresses several key
intellectual and historical issues pertaining to Maimonides in the context of medieval Jewish
thought that have been insufficiently examined. It analyses the question of what the terms
‘mysticism’ and ‘rationalism’ mean in a twelfth century Jewish context and whether these
categorisations are useful in understanding the particularities of Jewish thought in Western
Europe; it also questions whether Maimonides’ thought is fairly framed exclusively in terms
of Aristotelian philosophy, and attempts to decipher key components of his religious vision.
The question of Maimonides’ relationship with mysticism is particularly relevant in light of
recent scholarship which has broadened the field of mysticism beyond the historical groups
associated with the Kabbalah and has increasingly regarded it as a phenomenon that occurs
1
Menahem Kellner, Maimonides’ Confrontation with Mysticism, (Oxford, 2006).
2
within religion rather than a distinctive school of thought.2 Ultimately, the study assesses
whether aspects of mysticism are basic components of Maimonides’ philosophy of Judaism.
The first half of my study presents an introductory historiographical framework of how
nineteenth and twentieth century scholarship has understood Jewish mysticism and
rationalism to have existed in a state of opposition in the Middle-Ages. In accordance with
Gershom Scholem’s conclusion, Jewish mysticism has been viewed as an historical
phenomenon associated with the schools of kabbalists emergent in Girona and northern Italy
in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.3 It opposed the philosophical worldview which had
been pioneered by R. Sa’adia Gaon in the tenth century and embodied in the life of Hasdai
ibn Shaprut in the eleventh. Depending on the vantage point of the academic scholar, the
world of Kabbalah was either perceived as the spiritually and emotionally edifying
counterpart to the cold and intellectualist world of the philosopher, or the superstitious
alternative to the philosopher’s world of reason.4 Maimonides has been considered to be the
classic exemplar of the Jewish philosopher by virtually all scholars of the field. His
worldview was the antithesis of the spiritualised, particularistic vision found within mystical
writings. This framework is extended by Kellner to suggest that Maimonides actively
opposed mystical thought during his lifetime.
This essay then challenges this position by introducing recent scholarship which has
concluded that medieval Jewish mysticism cannot be easily separated from medieval
philosophy and must be understood to have borrowed significantly from it in the formulation
2
Elliot Wolfson, ‘Jewish Mysticism: A Philosophical Overview’ in History of Jewish
Philosophy ed. Daniel Frank, Oliver Leaman (New York, 1997), 391.
3
Gershom Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York, 1973), 4.
4
Scholem can be described as typifying the former type of scholar and Heinrich Graetz as the
latter.
3
of its ideas. Several scholars have subsequently identified themes within Maimonides’ works
that appear to be mystical or quasi-mystical in nature.5 Some, such as David Blumenthal,
have gone as far as to state that Maimonides can be considered an ‘intellectualist mystic’,
arguing that Maimonides’ own writings betray considerable mystical influence.6 However, I
maintain that whilst mystical traces have been identified within Maimonides’ writings,
arguments that his worldview was significantly altered by these encounters are inconclusive,
and Kellner’s position, with a few moderations, remains convincing.
The second half of this study contends that it is necessary to adopt a different framework in
order to understand Maimonides’ religious vision in relation to mysticism. Rather than trying
to examine Maimonides in terms of influences from mystical groups I will prioritise the
phenomenology of his rationalist worldview.7 To do this I will adopt the concept of
integration found within the works of Isadore Twersky and David Hartman. This
convincingly demonstrates that Maimonides integrated philosophical study into all his
writings as a means of forging a relationship with God, and I will argue that from this
integrated model Maimonides envisioned a process of development profoundly similar to that
found within mystical writings.
In my analysis I will present a literary examination of Maimonides’ two main works the
Guide of the Perplexed and the Mishneh Torah (which I refer to as the Guide and the Code)
5
See Moshe Idel, ‘Maimonides and Kabbalah’, in Isadore Twersky Studies in Maimonides
(Cambridge, 1990).
6
See David Blumenthal, Philosophic Mysticism: Studies in Rational Religion (Jerusalem,
2006), 128-151.
7
An approach that concentrates on the study of consciousness and the objects of direct
experience. In this context it means how ‘rationalism’ manifest itself experientially in the
mind of the Maimonides.
4
to analyse this development of the human being’s relationship with God. Maimonides’
cultural and philosophical context has been exhaustively explored in recent scholarship, and I
will deliberately adopt a literary approach which is more concerned with how Maimonides
appropriated the source material he encountered rather than list historical or cultural
influences and attribute influence accordingly.8 In concurrence with Isadore Twersky’s
literary approach, this essay assumes that “the work of literature is the central subject matter
of a theory of literature, and not the biography or psychology of the author, or the social
background, or the affective response of the reader.”9 This is not to ignore the importance of
cultural and historical contexts that must be considered when approaching any topic in
history but my focus will be on Maimonides’ pedagogic vision explored through his writings
in relation to mystical thought without necessarily framing it in terms of potential contextual
influences.
It is true that Maimonides had little to do with mystical groups or practises. Yet as a religious
phenomenon mysticism is strongly characterised by a profound yearning for an intimate
relationship with God, and this is a theme that underpins Maimonides’ religious vision. In
emphasising the importance of the experiential element within religion, Maimonides
distinctly resembles the mystic. Like the mystic, Maimonides acknowledges that the human
mind is limited in its ability to communicate the inner life of the spirit. An examination of
Maimonides in relation to mysticism yields a portrait of a man who attempted to
communicate in writing a personal religious experience that is not adequately captured by his
categorisation in terms of Aristotelianism or any other ideal types, and I contend that
8
For Maimonides’ Mediterranean context see Sarah Stroumsa, Maimonides in His World:
Portrait of a Mediterranean Thinker, (Princeton, 2011), for a recent study on his
philosophical writings and Graeco-Arabic context see Tamar Rudavsky, Maimonides
(Oxford, 2010).
9
Isadore Twersky, Introduction to the Code of Maimonides, (New York, 1980), 94.
5
Kellner’s Maimonides is superficially understood as being purely a product of certain
philosophical precepts. In Maimonides’ writings we see a theory of religion which
necessarily includes mystical passion, even though it cannot be meaningfully described as
mysticism itself.
Jewish mysticism, rationalism and perceptions of Maimonides in twentieth century
scholarship.
Until the late-twentieth century, academic scholarship unanimously regarded Maimonides
and Jewish philosophy as the ideological opponents of Kabbalah and Jewish mysticism.10
Jewish mysticism was understood to be synonymous with the Kabbalah and in its essence
opposed to the rational and intellectual approach to religion that had been advocated by
Maimonides and his followers. 11 In his classic work on Jewish philosophy written in the
1960s, Julius Guttman stated that the relationship between Kabbalah and rationalistic thought
in the thirteenth century was largely one of opposition.12
This perception had been predominant amongst earlier scholarship: Nineteenth Century
historian Heinrich Graetz saw the emergence of Kabbalah in the thirteenth century as a
reaction to Maimonides’ rationalism; Reform theologian David Neumark perceived a
dialectical competition between mysticism and philosophy which mysticism eventually won
through the rise of Safedian Kabbalah in the sixteenth Century.13 The kabbalists themselves
10
The Kabbalah is a commonly used term for the esoteric teachings of Judaism and for
Jewish mysticism in the forms which it assumed from the twelfth Century onwards.
11
‘Kabbalah’ in Encyclopaedia Judaica vol.8 (1972), 490.
12
Julius Guttman, Philosophies of Judaism (New York, 1976), 255.
13
Cited in Idel, ‘Maimonides and Kabbalah’, 31.
6
contained a circle of adherents who purported to possess esoteric knowledge and were
particular to distinguish themselves from the philosophers.
As to what mysticism precisely entailed within a Jewish context, most scholars adopted the
understanding formulated by Scholem that Jewish mysticism can only be examined in terms
of historical schools and movements rather than ideas or experiences alone.14 Scholars such
as Rufus Jones had given broad definitions of mysticism as religion which puts the emphasis
on immediate awareness of the divine presence. Scholem, however, contended that mysticism
is an historical phenomenon inextricably bound with particular religions, and that there is no
such thing as a pure, abstract mysticism which can be reduced to applications that could be
applied to all religious experiences. Rather, Jewish mysticism was a definite stage in the
historical development of religion and made its appearance under certain well-defined
conditions.15 It found its concrete expression in the Kabbalah and was seen by its adherents as
a tradition from Mount Sinai containing both theosophical and meditative elements.
In the early to mid-twentieth century, several scholars identified particular elements that
significantly distinguished the mystics from the philosophers. These largely expressed
themselves in terms of beliefs about God and the world:
For instance, unlike philosophical religion, mystical religion tried to transform God from an
object of dogmatic knowledge into a novel and living experience.16 To the mystic, the
physical world was an illusion and the Torah was viewed as a living organism animated by an
14
Gershom Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York, 1973), 4.
ibid, 8.
16
Scholem, Major Trends, 10.
15
7
inner life which “streams and pulsates below the crust of its literal meaning;”17 language in
its purest form reflected the fundamentally spiritual nature of the world.18 To a rationalist,
however, language was simply a conventional means of expressing certain thoughts. The
kabbalists saw intrinsic reasons behind the mitzvoth which reflected the nature of the spiritual
universe. They believed in reincarnation, angelology and magic, and sought union with God
through theurgical means, unlike the rationalists who sought it through the intellect alone.19
For the rationalist, it was the physical world that provided the key to understanding the
wisdom of God, and any attempts to comprehend His essence through theosophy were
considered futile. This opposition was felt by the Kabbalah from its very inception, and the
more that speculative thought developed within it, the greater it became.20
Maimonides is largely presented in the historiography of the period as a rabbi and
philosopher par excellence, whose life’s work culminated in the writing of the Guide where
he achieved a creative synthesis in the areas of revelation and philosophy.21 Fully aware of
the problem that Aristotelian conceptions of providence and immortality posed for Jewish
audiences, Maimonides undertook to formulate the problem in all its sharpness and to seek a
solution that would overcome it from within.22 The Guide, written in the age of
intellectualism, is regarded by many historians as the great work of Jewish apologetics.23
Isaac Husik concluded that Maimonides was an Aristotelian who didn’t see the chasm and
17
ibid, 14.
ibid, 17.
19
Joseph Sarachek, Faith and Reason, the Conflict over the Rationalism of Maimonides
(Pennsylvania, 1935), 132.
20
Guttman, Philosophies, 255.
21
ibid, 156.
22
ibid, 142.
23
Isaac Husik, A history of mediaeval Jewish philosophy (Philadelphia, 1944), 240.
18
8
fundamental incompatibility between his approach and the Torah’s.24 Many rabbis also
regarded this synthesis as artificial,25 and would have agreed with Scholem’s description of
the philosophical chapter in the Code as bearing no relation whatsoever to the halakhah
itself.26
Even though Maimonides died in 1204, the Maimonidean controversies which erupted
throughout the thirteenth century are testament to the fact that Maimonides was widely
regarded as the flagbearer of Jewish philosophy during this period and the antithesis of a
kabbalist. At the peak of the controversy in the 1230s, many kabbalists condemned his views
as heretical. They saw Maimonides’ rationalism as fundamentally contradicting the
traditional view of God, providence and the commandments.27 Many of the Gironese
kabbalists felt that Maimonides had reduced the Torah to natural law.28 In his poems
describing the controversy, the poet Meshullam denounced the Guide as heretical, scoffing
the Maimonidean idea of rational reasons behind laws.29 Anti-philosophical remarks which
clearly target Maimonides and his followers abound amongst other kabbalists: R. M. Recanti
argued that Jewish philosophers played no part in the Jewish heritage whatsoever, and were
victims of a Greek perversion. Nahmanides stated that the greatest philosopher in the time of
24
ibid, 300.
See R. S. R. Hirsch, The nineteen Letters of Ben Uziel trans. Bernard Drachman, (New
York, 1942), 181, where he describes Maimonides in the following terms: The age gave birth
to a man, a mind, who, the product of uncomprehended Judaism and Arabic science, was
obliged to reconcile the strife which raged in his own breast… sought to reconcile Judaism
with the difficulties which confronted it from without, instead of developing it creatively
from within.
26
Scholem, Major trends, 28-29.
27
Sarachek, Faith and Reason, 14.
28
Daniel Silver, Maimonidean Criticism and the Maimonidean Controversy 1180-1240
(London, 1965), 183.
25
29
ibid, 182.
9
Aristotle was inferior to the smallest of Jews.30 He also insisted that the physical world was
illusionary and miraculous in nature and that anyone who believed otherwise was not part of
the people of Israel.31
Although many new works have been written about the nature of Maimonides’ philosophy
and its nuances in recent years, the portrayal of Maimonides as a committed Aristotelian has
remained.32 Notably, Maimonides is regularly cited by modern scholars as considering an
understanding of physics and metaphysics to be the pinnacle of religious knowledge.33 It is
considered self-evident that Maimonides’ writings bear very little resemblance to mystical
thought.
Maimonides the anti-mystic?
Kellner’s study attempts to accentuate the divide between Jewish mysticism and philosophy
in the Middle Ages by arguing that one of Maimonides’ life goals was to actively counteract
the influences of mysticism. Whilst Kellner formulates this argument in novel terms of
ontological versus non-ontological perspectives on religion, he effectively adopts the same
frameworks as the scholars mentioned above whilst extending the conclusions to suggest that
Maimonides’ opposition was active and conscious.
30
31
Nahmanides, kitvei ramban I (Chavel ed.1960), 155.
Nahmanides, Commentary on the Torah, (Chavel ed. Jerusalem, 1970), Exodus, 13:16.
32
For recent examples see footnote 3 and in particular Herbert Davidson, Moses Maimonides,
the man and his works (Oxford, 2005); Moshe Halbertal, Maimonides, Life and Thought,
(Princeton, 2014).
33
Halbertal, Maimonides, 154.
10
According to Kellner, Maimonides’ works attack the approach of R. Judah ha-Levi, whose
book the Kuzari had helped to create a religious climate which can be described as protokabbalistic. Kellner presents two fundamentally different visions of the religious universe:
religion as an ontological reality, advocated by mystics and proto-kabbalists like ha-Levi, and
religion as an institutional reality advocated by Maimonides and the rationalists. As
mentioned above, to the mystic, the concepts of halakha, holiness and language are preexistent elements of the divine universe, and are amongst its essential features.34 Kellner
suggests that Maimonides’ conception of holiness, the commandments, language and
anthropomorphism was part of an agenda to de-mystify the universe and formulate
‘spirituality’ purely in terms of human behaviour. 35 Above all, Kellner emphasises that
Maimonides did not see things in terms of have an intrinsic spiritual worth. Mitzvoth, for
example, do not have intrinsic value, they merely teach correct values and necessary beliefs.36
Kellner summarises this point at the end of his work: “Maimonides’ world, relative to that of
many of his rabbinic contemporaries, was de-mythologised, de-ontologised – in a word, depaganised.”37 Maimonides saw the mystical proto-kabbalists who were to become the
kabbalists as perpetuating a nefarious legacy of mythology and superstition.
It is true that Maimonides directly opposed certain mystical trends. He criticised the
kabbalistic work Shiur Komah heavily,38 and whilst this is exceptionally anthropomorphic in
nature, there is no reason that the use of physical and graphic images adopted by the
kabbalists would have been met with any less vehemence. In fact, a strong disapproval of
mystical sephirot is implied in the Guide where Maimonides criticises those who describe
34
See above pp. 8-9 for comparisons.
Kellner, Maimonides’ Confrontation, 28.
36
ibid, 60.
37
ibid, 285.
38
Idel, ‘Maimonides and Kabbalah’, 36.
35
11
God in terms of attributes, claiming that 'they have as it were divested God of corporeality
but not of the modes of corporeality, namely, the accidents'.39
However, Kellner’s conversion of Maimonides’ ideas into a crusade against mystical groups
and even ha-Levi himself makes a radical leap that seems to distort the debate surrounding
Maimonides’ thought in the thirteenth century into an active conversation in the twelfth.
Firstly, there seems little evidence that Maimonides considered his climate one that was
inundated with mystical thought. Maimonides’ intellectual forbearers resided in Andalusia
and as he writes in the Guide, were steeped in Aristotelian philosophy and agreed with him in
affirming the precepts of the philosophers in so far as they did not ruin the foundations of the
law.40 I see little evidence to suggest that ha-Levi represented the overwhelming consensus of
local opinion. Maimonides was hardly unique in adopting philosophical positions regarding
providence and the commandments, with other rationalists including Abraham ibn Daud and
Sa’adia Gaon other notable exponents of this method of hermeneutics. In fact, ibn Daud had
produced his work The Book of Tradition ten years before the Code was written, and
described the ultimate pleasure of man as knowledge of God in far more pronouncedly
Aristotelian terms than Maimonides did.41
Maimonides, furthermore, was never shy to attack groups that he felt compromised religious
behavior. This included rabbis and Talmudists with incorrect opinions, the masses who
believed in anthropomorphism and the Jews who adopted the positions of the Kalam or the
Karaites. Whilst some of these groups may well have contained mystical associations, the
fact that Maimonides never targeted them specifically implies that they were not the primary
39
Maimonides, The Guide of the Perplexed, trans. Shlomo Pines, (Chicago, 1963), 1:55.
ibid, 1:71.
41
Guttman, Philosophies, 152.
40
12
object of his directives. In terms of analysis, moreover, Kellner’s distinction between
ontological and non-ontological perspectives is one which he admits draws upon modern
literary distinctions between words and meaning; in doing so, he ignores many elements of
Maimonides’ writings which are distinctly ‘particularist’, for example the strictly Jewish
conception of the messiah and several statements referring to behavior unbecoming of the
children of Israel.42 But in relation to this study, Kellner’s work is important for bringing
twentieth century scholarship on mysticism, philosophy and Maimonides to a seemingly
logical conclusion: Maimonides was a philosopher whose worldview radically differed from
the worldview of the mystics.
The blurred line of separation between mysticism and rationalism
Nevertheless, the difficulties which have emerged in the past forty years in defining
mysticism with any degree of accuracy mean that Kellner’s forthright stance cannot be
considered the final word on Maimonides and mysticism: Mysticism and rationalism were
not necessarily opposing ideologies. Moreover, the complexity of the Kabbalah itself, the
exchange of ideas between philosophers and mystics, and the inherent ambiguity of the
mystical experience have challenged Scholem’s assertion that mysticism can only be
understood in terms of mystical groups.
Firstly, the Kabbalah cannot be simply described as a purely mystical body of texts.
Certainly, it may be considered mystical in so far as it seeks an apprehension of God and
creation whose intrinsic elements are beyond the grasp of the intellect, with elements
42
See, for example, the end of Maimonides, MT, ‘Hilkhot Melakhim’, 11 and 12. Also on
slavery in MT, ‘Hilkhot Avadim’, 9:8.
13
perceived through contemplation and illumination.43 Yet kabbalistic theosophy includes
incredibly complex calculations about the nature of the heavens far removed from the ecstatic
and visionary experiences commonly associated with mystics. It is, furthermore, a vast
literature comprising commentaries on classical Jewish texts, analyses of commandments and
customs, descriptions of mystical techniques and a variety of mystical experiences.44 Modern
scholars have divided the schools of Kabbalah into theosophical/speculative and
meditative/ecstatic, and whilst there is much overlap between these two groups the distinction
is particularly useful when considering the kabbalists’ relationship to Maimonides.45 Some
kabbalists placed more emphasis on personal experience of God and others focused on the
theosophical construction of the universe. Importantly, the kabbalists did not uniformly
subscribe to particular mystical doctrines but rather distinct schools emerged with diverging
perspectives on religious issues. Most kabbalists did not see themselves as standing in clear
opposition to philosophy, but merely felt that it was not the correct interpretation of the
Jewish esoteric tradition.46
The conclusion that philosophy and mysticism should not be considered two opposite poles is
suggested by the fact that several ecstatic kabbalistic groups used the Guide as a mystical
text. Mystical commentaries on the Guide began to emerge between 1270 and 1290,47 and it
is a curious fact that in the thirteenth century we know of five mystical commentaries on the
Guide compared with only three philosophical commentaries.48
43
‘Kabbalah’ in E. J, 490.
Idel, Kabbalah in Italy 1280-1510: A Survey (Yale, 2011), 3.
45
ibid, 23.
46
Idel, ‘Maimonides and Kabbalah’, 36.
47
Idel, ‘Maimonides' "Guide of the Perplexed" and the Kabbalah’, Jewish History, Vol. 18,
201.
48
ibid, 208.
44
14
The ecstatic stream of Kabbalah used Maimonides’ Guide as a platform to achieve mystical
communion with God, claiming that it contained esoteric secrets and provided the transitional
stage between human intellect and divine communion. In the system of Kabbalah developed
by R. Abraham Abulafia transmitted to his prominent students such as R. Joseph Gakitilla,
the Guide served as an intermediary enabling the human spirit to pass from the simplistic
apperception of a text to a spiritual experience, from vulgar religion to philosophical and
finally a mystical-redemptive religion.49 The Guide was studied alongside the ancient
mystical text Sefer Yezirah to achieve a mystical experience. Abuliafia’s description of the
mystical union, moreover, employs unmistakably Maimonidean terminology.50 In fact, he
used the Guide to spread kabbalistic teachings.51Although Abulafia’s commentaries were
heavily criticised by his contemporaries, they survived in manuscript form and were
influential amongst later kabbalists.52 Earlier kabbalistic works such as Sha'ar Ha Shamayim
were also written under the influence of the Guide.53 For these kabbalists, philosophy was
seen as a crucial stage in achieving divine communion. It would be more accurate to
conclude, therefore, that mysticism transcended philosophy rather than opposed it.
Even amongst the kabbalists who opposed Maimonides directly, the controversies of the
thirteenth century should not be oversimplified as a battle between mysticism and
philosophy.54 It was not philosophy per se but rather Maimonides’ claim of philosophy as the
authentic interpretation of Jewish esotericism that was problematic in the eyes of many
49
Idel, ‘Maimonides and Kabbalah’, 67.
ibid, 76.
51
ibid, 209.
52
Idel, ‘Guide and Kabbalah’, 199.
53
ibid, 203.
50
54
See Silver, Maimonides Controversy, 83-88, who argues that it was fear of heresy rather
than Maimonides’ ideas that were the key source of tension.
15
kabbalists.55 In the development of theosophical Kabbalah, Maimonides was seen as a threat
who needed systematic countering, but the discipline of philosophical study was widely
acknowledged for its usefulness. A manuscript written by an anonymous Gironese kabbalist,
for example, acknowledges that philosophers were right in their meticulous discussion but
not in terms of their exposition of Ma'aseh Merkabah or the esoteric tradition.56
Additionally, no one was born a kabbalist in Maimonides’ lifetime. The term was hardly used
before the end of the twelfth century.57 Kabbalah was often embraced only after a thorough
grounding in philosophy. As the influence of medieval philosophical speculation is clearly
discernible in mystical writings and the religious context of the philosophers is saturated in
mystical traditions, it is very difficult to disentangle the threads of philosophy and mysticism
when examining medieval Jewish mysticism in any of its major expressions.58
Eliot Wolfson argues, therefore, that Jewish mysticism must be understood as a
multidisciplinary phenomenon that can be illuminated by a variety of approaches. Concurring
with Alexander Altmann, Wolfson suggests that mysticism ought to be treated as a religious
phenomenon that occurs in history, rather than as an historical phenomenon.59 He concludes
that mysticism refers either to those trends in Judaism which claim an esoteric knowledge of
God or to an intense religious experience of a visionary or unitive sort, although the two
cannot necessarily be separated.60 Louis Jacobs suggests a more expansive definition of
mysticism in religion as a preference for the direct experience of the divine rather than a
55
Idel, ‘Maimonides and Kabbalah’, 33. See whole article for discussion on this subject.
ibid, 35.
57
Idel, Kabbalah in Italy, 25.
58
Wolfson, ‘Jewish Mysticism’, 391.
59
ibid, 390.
60
ibid, 391.
56
16
second-hand acceptance of theological propositions.61 Mysticism, therefore, is not
inextricably bound to theosophical dogma and the Kabbalah contains unique but not
exclusive expressions of Jewish mysticism. 62 Practical expressions of Jewish mysticism in
the thirteenth century could be speculative or experiential in nature and were often deeply
rooted in medieval philosophy.
Maimonides the mystic?
It is within this context that Maimonides’ works have been analysed, albeit inconclusively,
for mystical subject matter. The analyses can best be understood as falling into one of two
categories: those that focus on mystical influences and those that focus on mystical content
within Maimonides’ writings. 63 Alexander Altmann, for example, concludes that mystical
structures and influences can be found within the Guide that were used as a platform for later
mystical groups. United by the structural framework of halakha, the mystics used
Maimonides’ structures to develop their own ideas.
In terms of content, however, there remain fundamental differences between the basic attitude
of mysticism in its concrete form and the philosophical way of thinking as both are governed
by two different, independent, and autonomously developing structures of thought. There is a
divergence in existential attitude, Altmann claims, which reaches its centre in its relationship
to evil.64 Altmann considers Maimonides’ idea of communion with God as ‘metaphysical
cognition in terms of the active intellect’ rather than a mystical experience.65
61
Louis Jacobs, ‘The Place of Mysticism in Modern Jewish Life’, European Judaism: A
Journal for the New Europe, Vol. 2, 32.
62
Idel, ‘Abulafia's Secrets of the Guide: A Linguistic Turn’, Revue de Métaphysique et de
Morale, No. 4, Philosophies juives médiévales, 527.
63
ibid, 496-497.
64
Alexander Altmann, ‘Maimonides’s Attitude towards Jewish Mysticism’, in A.Jospe (ed.),
Studies in Jewish Thought: an anthology of German Jewish scholarship (Detroit, 1981), 217.
65
ibid, 206.
17
Other scholars of mysticism, focusing on influences, also conclude that Maimonides’
mystical significance was posthumous. In terms of content, his writings had little relevance to
mysticism. Maimonides’ own philosophy was detached, intellectualist and elitist. Idel, for
example, contrasts the theoretical nature of Maimonides’ description of the kiss of death
following communion with God with Abulafia’s ‘actualisation’ of the same concept:
In lieu of Maimonides' hermeneutical project, which is focused on natural and metaphysicial
frameworks, Abulafia proposes a spiritual interpretation of the Bible as pointing not only to
the true meaning of the Bible, and the proper theology, but more eminently a pressing call for
an intense spiritual life.66
Idel’s Maimonides, like Kellner’s, is concerned with metaphysics and proper theology, a true
philosopher, whose Guide is described as an exegetical project. Idel sees Maimonides’
discussion of the limits of the mind as a tragic surrender to humanity’s inability to experience
the divine during its lifetime.67 Whilst Idel acknowledges the possibility of unconscious
mystical influences within Maimonides’ writings, in terms of content Maimonides was a
philosopher. Maimonides is placed in contradistinction to the mystic not only for his
particular views but for the quality of his religious experience: For Maimonides, God was an
intellect, for the kabbalists God was radiance; for Maimonides Adam was a person, for the
kabbalists Adam was a creature of light; for Maimonides pardes was an intellectual state, for
the kabbalists it was sensuous, erotic, sexual and an object for practical striving.68
Scholars of philosophy, too, acknowledge that Maimonides saw an intimate bond between the
intellect and spiritual divine forces as part of reality, but are insistent that this cannot be
compared with the mystical experience; rather, knowledge endows man with the bliss of
66
Idel, ‘Abulafia Secrets’, 503.
ibid, 501.
68
Felicia Waldman, ‘Some Considerations on Maimonnides’ influence on Mysticism’, Studia
Judaica no.17 (2009), 262.
67
18
immediate communion with God which gives rise to love and happiness, but never becomes a
mystical union, and ‘even the characteristic emotional emphasis remains foreign to the sober
restraint of his spirit’.69 According to Maimonides, the link between man and God was
constituted solely and exclusively by theoretical knowledge.70 Pines notes that unlike the
mystic, Maimonides was not trying to remove himself from the world but was concerned
with inculcating correct beliefs.71
The exception to this portrayal of Maimonides is presented by David Blumenthal and
Georges Vajda, who argue that in terms of the content of his writings Maimonides was a
peculiar type of mystic, an ‘intellectualist mystic’ who used the intellect and philosophy to
point to that which is beyond it, communion with God.72
The argument is formulated largely based upon the concluding chapters of the Guide, which
follows the parable of the palace, where Maimonides describes the stages that take place after
attaining metaphysical knowledge of God. The analysis is both linguistic and based on
literary content, and Maimonides’ chapter 3:51 of the Guide is perceived as a pursuit of the
mystical quest beginning with the preface: ‘This is the worship peculiar to those who have
apprehended the true realities; the more they think of Him and of being with Him [al-maqām
`indahu], the more their worship increases.’73 Blumenthal presents the following argument:
The ‘worship of God’ (al-`ibāda) is not the same as the ‘love of God’ (al-mahabba). Rather,
the “worship of God” follows the “love of God.” The “love of God” is intellectual, being
directly proportional to the “comprehension of God” (al-’idrāk). The “worship of God,” on
69
Guttman, Philosophies, 176.
ibid, 193.
71
Shlomo Pines, ‘The Philosophic Sources of the Guide of the Perplexed’, Introductory essay
in The Guide of the Perplexed, trans. Shlomo Pines, (Chicago, 1963), xcvi.
72
Blumenthal, Philosophic Mysticism, 151.
73
Maimonides, Guide, 3:51.
70
19
the other hand, is a turning of one’s thoughts to God, a devoting of oneself to God, and a
passion for God which is best sought after in solitude. 74
The Arabic terms that are used by Maimonides, Blumenthal suggests, are distinctly mystical
and non-philosophical, seemingly appropriated from Sufi sources.75 In terms of content,
moreover, Chapter 3:51 shows that there are three stages to this relationship: Intellectual
apprehension, intellectual contemplation and continuous contemplation of Him culminating
in mystical experience.76 True intellectualist activity results in an experience, or awareness,
of the divine which can properly be called ‘mystical.’ The knowledge of law is a pre-requisite
of religiosity, but it leads to further stages of religious life. Intellectual effort alone,
Blumenthal argues, is not enough: “Man must also make a spiritual, experiential effort if one
wishes to attain the telos of humanity.”77 For Blumenthal, Maimonides appears to fit very
well into a mystical framework.
There are many compelling elements to Blumenthal’s analysis, particularly his identification
of the significance of the relationship between love and knowledge in Maimonides’
worldview but there are several reasons why his conclusions are questionable:
Even if we are operating within a more fluid understanding of mysticism, Blumenthal does
not really explain what makes Maimonides a mystic. Yes, these passages show a religious
passion and use terms that may have mystical origins but can mysticism simply be reduced to
anyone who has ever experienced religious feeling? What compelling reason is there to prefer
the label of ‘intellectualist mystic’ to ‘impassioned philosopher’, for example? As Idel and
74
Blumenthal, ‘Maimonides’ Intellectualist Mysticism and the Superiority of the Philosophy
of Moses’, Studies in Medieval Culture 10, 59.
75
Blumenthal, Philosophic Mysticism, 142.
76
ibid, 139.
77
ibid, 135.
20
Wolfson have shown above, the two groups borrowed terms from one another but differed in
terms of experience and content. According to this analysis, Maimonides transforms from a
cerebral philosopher to an intellectualist mystic simply by virtue of a concluding passage
which converts his worldview despite having no contemporaries or fellow intellectualist
mystics with whom he associated. Whilst I will suggest that experience is an integral part of
mystical thought, Blumenthal’s specific analysis needs expanding to encompass greater
proportions of Maimoniodes’ works before any reasonable conclusions about his worldview
can be made.
The significance of ‘integration’ for Maimonides and mysticism.
What has been missing from the discussion of Maimonides and mysticism is a serious
attempt to understand the religious dimension of his rationalist worldview. Whilst
Blumenthal identifies some experiential and passionate elements of the Guide he does not
sufficiently broaden his analysis to encompass greater sections of Maimonides’ thought and
his picture seems threadbare. Other scholars of mysticism have generally discussed the
question of Maimonides’ relationship to mysticism in in terms of making associations
between historical mystical groups and Maimonides himself. Yet if mysticism is to be
understood as a religious phenomenon that focuses on the individual’s quest for the living
God and deep yearning to experience ‘contact’ with Him, any comparative analysis must also
address the religious experience and quest that Maimonides tried to communicate within his
writings. After all, Maimonides’ two most important books, the Guide and the Code were
presented as pedagogical works for the Jews of his time. Does Maimonides’ rationalism
amount to the cerebral vision described by Idel, Pines and Guttman? Rather than trying to
21
determine whether traces of mysticism existed within Maimonides’ thought, I will use the
Code and the Guide to analyse the nature of Maimonides’ understanding of religion and
philosophy, how he translated knowledge into experience and whether this can reasonably be
compared to the mystical quest.
The most important aspect of Maimonides’ thought with regard to the experience of religion
is what I will describe as a theory of integration. The first element of integration is that
Maimonides saw Aristotelian philosophy and Jewish law not as distinct components that
needed synthesising but as crucial aspects of the development of the religious individual. The
second is that medieval rationalism must be understood as a religious as well as a purely
philosophical phenomenon. It is tempting for the contemporary scholar to associate medieval
rationalism with Enlightenment rationalism in the eighteenth century, which came about in
significant part as a rebellion against the authority of the church. Reason was seen as a means
of countering religious authority by “effecting an enormous clearance.”78 Although in many
instances Enlightenment philosophy still had a place for God or a divinity, it was not the one
of revealed religion.
This was simply not the case for rationalists living in the twelfth century and certainly not for
Maimonides; whilst philosophical knowledge had apologetic uses to defend Judaism from the
attacks of Christian and Muslim theologians, it was also a positive and intrinsically
significant duty whereby intellectual attainment was indispensable for religious perfection.
To the rationalist, the use of the mind in the service of God was an integral part of Jewish
tradition, and Maimonides in particular saw it as a religious obligation to apply one’s intellect
to the study of the world and scripture. Man had to realise his intellectual potential.79
78
79
Paul Hazard, The Crisis of the European Mind (New York 1961), 135.
Twersky, Introduction, 87.
22
Rationalism was “an expression of love, desiring to bring man closer to God via
knowledge.”80
Thus, when examined sociologically, it is inaccurate to label Maimonides a ‘philosopher’ of
the kind so meticulously documented in Guttman and Sarachek’s studies of medieval
philosophy.81 For Maimonides, philosophy was a means of acquiring knowledge of God, one
element within a religious life comprising of halakhic observance, traditional Talmudic study
and communal concerns. To argue that Maimonides’ attachment to his community was
merely hereditary is contradicted both by what he wrote and the way he lived.82 When
considering Maimonides’ historical context, it is important to remember that he not only grew
up in an Aristotelian or Mediterranean climate, but that he was born into one that was deeply
steeped in Andalusian Talmudic study.83 Like mysticism, rationalism was a tool that could be
used to counteract religious apathy and indifference.
It is therefore important to identify that Maimonides’ relationship with philosophy contained
a significant spiritual and emotional element. Truth and the application of the logic of the
mind added an important depth dimension to the religious experience, and it is this that
Maimonides saw in the study of metaphysics.84 This was not restricted to abstract philosophy;
the intellect and the use of the mind is regularly emphasised in legal writings as essential to
properly fulfil the commandments.85 Maimonides’ consistent condemnation of stupidity and
80
ibid, 88.
See pp.2-3 above.
82
David Hartman, Maimonides: Torah and Philosophic quest, (Philadelphia, 1976), 141.
83
Twersky, Code, 8. Maimonides is particularly admiring of his Andalusian predecessors R.
Joseph ibn Megas and R. Alfasi.
84
ibid, 459.
85
Maimonides, MT, ‘Yesodei ha Torah’ 4:13; ‘Hilkhot Teshuvah’ 3:4, 9:1, 10:6. ‘Hilkhot
De’ot’ 2: 4,5; 5:7, ‘Avodah Zarah’ 4:6, Guide, 1:54, 3:37.
81
23
superstition, seen in his attitude towards those who see the mezuzah as a good luck charm,
underscores the idea that spirituality is contingent on knowledge, and that a commitment to
Torah is wholehearted only if the individual understands the laws and teachings of the Torah
from a rational perspective.86 Based on the biblical verse which refers to the commandments
as your wisdom amongst the nations,87 Maimonides argues that it is essential for the
commandments to be understood rationally.88 According to David Hartman:
His concern with the fundamental principles of Judaism is his legal works, and his insistence
upon a correct conception of God in the Mishneh Torah, are not the result of philosophical
intellectualism. They are based, rather, on a fear that a student of halakha can become expert
in legal matters and a pagan in matters of belief.89
Hartman argues, therefore, that Maimonides’ claim to recover a ‘lost tradition’ did not mean
acquiring a particular body of philosophical knowledge but rather refers to the principle of
using reason as a means of connecting with the divine.90
As the greatest expression of reason and the wisdom of the human mind, Aristotelian
philosophy plays a critical role in Maimonides’ understanding of halakha and the human
ability to build a relationship with God. This is evident throughout Maimonides’ writings,
from his commentary to Avot, where fundamental metaphysics is juxtaposed with legal
matters as a matter of principle,91 to the outline of Maimonides' history of philosophy in the
Guide which sustains the centrality of philosophy in religion.92
86
Hartman, Torah and Philosophy, 62.
87
Deuteronomy, 4:6.
Maimonides, Guide, 3:31.
89
Hartman, Torah and Philosophy, 64.
90
ibid, 128-29.
91
Maimonides, Commentary on the Mishnah, mAvot 2:1, Kapah, Y., trans. and ed. Mishnah
with Maimonides’ Commentary, vol.3 (Jerusalem, 1989).
92
Maimonides, Guide, 1:71.
88
24
It is also strongly present within Maimonides’ Code of law. This position disagrees with Leo
Strauss’ analysis that the Code is purely a work of Jewish law, “dealing with opinions only
insofar as they are implied in prohibitions and commands.” 93 According to Strauss, the Code
is a work which stands for tradition, the God of Israel and history. Yet in the ‘Book of
Knowledge’ in particular it is clear that Maimonides’ formulation of the fundamentals of
Jewish faith and practise was strongly characterised by the integration and complementarity
of philosophy and Jewish law:94
Unlike subsequent codifications of halakha, the Code begins with the concept of acquiring
knowledge of God using demonstrable philosophical proofs.95 In Maimonides’ eyes this is
the first of Judaism’s fundamentals. Maimonides’ understanding of the first of the Ten
Commandments is that it entails philosophical speculation, implying the need to know the
source of existence rather than the God of history and the Jewish people. Maimonides
identifies the ontological significance of human beings with human reason, who are described
as being created in the image of God according to the first book of the Bible. It is the
attainment of love and fear of God in his second chapter of ‘hilkhot Yesodei Ha Torah’ that
Maimonides considers fundamentals of Jewish thinking, with little connection to the
historical God of Israel. Controversially, in formulating the laws of Torah study, Maimonides
considers the study of the pardes to be the zenith of this endeavour.96 For Maimonides, the
great esoteric secrets referred to in the Talmud place metaphysics at the summit of divine
wisdom, and similarly in the parable of the palace philosophy emerges as the most exalted
expression of the Oral Torah. This suggests a far more comprehensive scope of ambition than
93
Leo Strauss, Persecution and the Art of Writing (Chicago, 1988), 81. The Guide is
described as an esoteric manual for philosophers concealing truths from the masses.
94
Twersky, Introduction, 357.
95
Maimonides, MT, ‘Yesodei ha-Torah’, 1:1.
96
Maimonides’ considers pardes the study of physics and metaphysics.
25
simply being a mouthpiece of tradition. Maimonides’ description of Abraham as the
philosophical father of Judaism is further evidence of integration playing a significant part in
his thought.97 Philosophy was not only crucial to know about God it was also needed to relate
to Him in halakhic practice.
Integration has broader significance in terms of the relationship between the Code and the
Guide; if the Guide is a work that merely aligns Judaism with philosophy then there is no
necessary link between the two works in terms of the development of Maimonides’ thought.
However, if the two are both reflections of Maimonides’ deeply held conviction of the
relationship between knowledge and spirituality, then the Code can be seen to lead to many
of the ideas found within the Guide and the works can be addressed as a unit that can be
compared to mystical writings:
In a number of correspondence, Maimonides outlines a unified vision of the two works. In a
letter to his student Joseph in response to accusations that he did not believe in the
resurrection of the dead, he mentions that he wrote the Code in response to “a nation that do
not have a comprehensive book of laws in the true sense nor true and accurate theological
opinions.” 98 Maimonides felt that it would be wrong to focus on the interpretation of the
details of the laws and at the same time neglect its foundations, and mentions that these
foundations are more fully developed in the Guide. Law and theological opinions cannot be
separated. The Guide refers to the Code and the commentary on the Mishnah on several
occasions as supporting ideas found within it.99 This is not to deny the differences between
97
Maimonides, MT, ‘Avodah Zara’, 1:1.
Maimonides, Letter ‘On Resurrection’ to Joseph ben Judah in Twersky, Introduction, 41.
99
See, for example, Guide 1:39, on the intended meaning of mitzvoth. Maimonides also
references the Code in in Guide 3:24 and his commentary to the Mishnah in 3:54.
98
26
the two works; it is to reduce them to a less fundamental nature. To summarise Twersky’s
findings, the inward focus of the Code is more concerned with seeing law as an educating and
edifying force as distinct from the Guide whose concern is with all kinds of intelligibility and
rationality.100 The Code uses ethical-intellectual motifs, but the Guide uses historical
explanations to demonstrate adequately but not stringently how law is contingent upon
wisdom, although it is not necessarily spiritually or ethically consequential. Both, however,
contain a religious vision that sees integration as key to the spiritual endeavour.
The importance of the spiritualised vision of integration with regard to Maimonides and
mysticism is that it shows the need to view Maimonides’ writings thematically as well as
from a purely historical context: The study of philosophy meant the study of wisdom; the
attainment of wisdom meant the ability to know God. It was truth that concerned
Maimonides, not philosophy per se, and the synthesis between the two was not artificial but
rather reflective of how Maimonides understood spirituality. Maimonides considered it a
religious duty to hear the truth from any source.101 Whilst Maimonides was certainly an
adherent of Aristotelian philosophy and considered Aristotle to have achieved the highest
level of human understanding, his relationship to his philosophical sources is far from
deferential.102 In understanding Aristotle, Maimonides was very selective in identifying those
scholars whose opinions he respected.103
100
Twersky, Introduction, 432.
See Maimonides, ‘Introduction to Avot, Helek’ in Haq’damot.
102
In his letter to Samuel ibn Tibbon he claimed that ‘Aristotle's intellect represents the
extreme of human intellect, if we except those who have received divine inspiration’ Pines,
‘philosophical sources’, xciii.
103
ibid, cxi. For example, he only accepted the commentaries of Thermistus and Alexander
of Aphrodisias, rejected all the Christian commentators and had scant regard for Jewish
philosopher Isaac d’Israeli.
101
27
Maimonides was exposed to many other influences and appropriated each accordingly as he
saw fit; as well as Arabic philosophers such as Avicenna and Al-Farabi, other less ‘orthodox’
sources are apparent within his writings, such as the Islamic mystical group the Ismaili.
Alfred Ivri suggests that despite Maimonides’ rejection of many mystical themes within their
writings, the Ismaili had created a synthesis of the sort Maimonides was seeking, and a good
deal of the Guide can be seen as a response to various Ismaili themes as well as a qualified
endorsement of several concepts.104 If Maimonides saw truth in a source, he would use it to
guide his understanding of religious subject matter.
In this context it is possible to explore how Maimonides’ saw the tools provided by Greek
philosophy as leading to an experiential relationship with God. Integration demonstrates that
to Maimonides, the intellect was the tool required to access God in all areas of life. In order
to compare the mystical ascent to God with Maimonides’ own vision it is necessary to
examine how Maimonides develops the process of using knowledge in the service of God.
The mystic had a ladder of ascent and Maimonides had a comparable concept of educational
progress. The idea of educating each individual at their appropriate level is something that
can be seen throughout Maimonides’ writings and it is important to examine his model of
educational development before relating it to practical examples in his written works of the
relationship between knowledge and love of God.105
Maimonides’ model of educational development
104
Alfred Ivry, ‘Isma’ili Theology and Maimonides’ Philosophy’, in The Jews of Medieval
Islam: Community, Society, and Identity. ed. D. Frank, 280.
105
See Halbertal, Maimonides, 80 for a discussion about how Maimonides used different
styles to different audiences. In particular see ‘Letter to Obadiah the Prostelite’ in Twersky, A
Maimonides Reader (NJ, 1972), 475.
28
The educational stages that are required to facilitate the knowledge and experience of God
can be found in two different parts of Maimonides’ writings:
In the introduction to Perek Helek, Maimonides declares that a true relationship with God is
only achieved in incremental stages. Each stage involves an element of spiritual ‘bribery’
(which can include money, power or honour) as incentives to study Torah and perform the
mitzvoth which enables the individual to progress towards the ultimate purpose of a sublime
understanding of God and an exclusive relationship with Him. Maimonides issues a warning
to those of unsubtle mind that they will not appreciate this concept. Adults, like children, are
reared on these bribes.106 The bribes are not concessions, however, but necessities which
respond to the maturity of the individual. When the individual arrives at the next stage, the
previous incentives will seem trivial, much like a child being presented with a soft toy in
teenage years. Without these stages the individual would be unable to appreciate the concept
of truth for its own sake. This is encapsulated in Maimonides’ attitude towards reward and
punishment: The ultimate purpose of the individual within this world is not to do things for
the next world but rather to do things because they are good and right in themselves.107 The
reward will be a spiritual one that cannot be compared to earthly delights. To such a person,
the concept of a physical reward in the world to come will also seem childish although it was
once necessary for them to believe it. The final goal is to access God without any physical
incentives or boundaries.
This model is repackaged in the Guide with regards to philosophy:
106
107
Maimonides, Haq’damot le Perush ha Mishnah (Jerusalem,1961) 113-115.
ibid, 132.
29
Maimonides compares the risks of studying philosophy to entering deep water; no one should
expose themselves to it unless they know how to swim.108 The things that prevent people
from acquiring philosophical knowledge include the difficulty of the subject matter, the
insufficiency of the human mind and the extent of the preparation. Here, Maimonides
comments that people often desire knowledge but find the stages tedious and don't want to
engage with them: “Know, however, that if an end could be achieved without the
preliminaries that preceded it, the latter would not be preliminaries, but pure distractions and
futilities.”109 In his concluding remarks on the impossibility of achieving philosophical
knowledge without training, Maimonides makes the following fascinating remark:
In view of all these causes, these matters are only for a few solitary individuals of a very
special sort, nor for the multitude. For this reason, they should be hidden from the beginner,
and he should be prevented from taking them up, just as a small baby is prevented from
taking coarse foods and from lifting heavy weights.110
Philosophical knowledge, the crown of human achievement, can only be attained after a
process of necessary preliminaries. Like lifting heavy weights, it may require years of
training. Whilst the Guide appears to be talking about philosophical knowledge and the
introduction to the Mishnah about closeness to God, as we have shown, Maimonides
considered philosophical knowledge crucial to achieving divine knowledge and the concepts
can be closely compared. The exalted state of achieving knowledge of God and a relationship
with Him requires effort, gradual development and stages.
The attainment of wisdom, therefore, cannot simply be memorising a list of information. To
know is not the same as to become wise. Maimonides’ integrated theory of rationalism
108
Maimonides, Guide, 1:34.
ibid.
110
ibid.
109
30
understood within the context of his educational development shows that his writings must be
viewed as at least in part as trying to facilitate the individual’s relationship with God. Like
the mystical ascent, Maimonides requires many stages before the final spiritual goal can be
attained.
The practical expression of Maimonides’ educational vision in the Code and the Guide
The question remains, however, that if rationalism is indeed a prerequisite for a relationship
with God and that this must express itself in stages of development how did Maimonides
envisage this process taking place?
I would like to suggest that the practical expression of Maimonides’ rationalist vision of
religious development is both linear and symbiotic in nature, and that this model is evident in
both the Code and the Guide. On the one hand, Maimonides seems to present a model that
corresponds largely to Blumenthal’s analysis: Knowledge of God leads to love of God and
then experience of Him. But this is not a mystical ladder of ascent. In turn each stage reacts in
a reciprocal manner: knowledge leads to love and love leads to further knowledge. Correct
apprehension, speculation and proofs of God are emphasised even after Maimonides
describes his ‘ascent’.111 Each stage is an end in itself and not merely an intermediate
platform of a mystical process. It is not a vision that is restricted to the end of the Guide alone
but can also be seen in the Code. Unlike mysticism, Maimonides’ vision never allows the
individual to remain away from the world for long. Both the Code and the Guide present
models of religious development that follow this structure and encourage gradual progression
in stages:
111
See Maimonides, Guide, 3:54.
31
The first stage of development focuses on the theme that knowledge and truth must be
pursued with uncompromising rigour. Whilst this must be approached gradually, it cannot be
neglected altogether. Maimonides is particularly zealous on this issue, condemning those who
claim that God’s inscrutability is a positive thing as ignoramuses.112 It is particularly telling
that Maimonides’ attack on the Mutakullimun in the opening chapters of the Guide seems to
be by one who is frustrated by the duplicity of the group’s endeavour rather than the work of
an apologist concerned with the undermining of religious faith. On the contrary, the methods
of the Kalam had been appropriated in the service of religion. Pines emphasises this point:
“Both Maimonides and al-Farabi consider that the Mutakullimun are not engaged in a quest
for the truth, but in a defence of religious belief and dogma.”113 Maimonides comments
acerbically that “for every one of their premises, with few exceptions, is contradicted by what
is perceived of the nature of that which exists.”114 Reality commanded obedience in
Maimonides’ eyes and the idea of a ‘mystery’ is one that he saw as compromising God’s
wisdom.
The Guide is fervently unapologetic in tone, candidly discussing contentious religious issues;
in discussing the Aristotelian argument for the eternity of the universe, for example,
Maimonides grapples with the subject material in a manner which leaves him open to
accusations of harbouring secret antinomian beliefs on the subject.115
Maimonides was greatly opposed to anti-rationalist groups such as the Ash'arite school
championed by Al-Ghazali. In particular, he objected to the lack of cosmic order and
112
ibid, 3:31.
Pines, ‘Philosophical Sources’, lxxxiv.
114
ibid.
115
In particular Guide, 2:15 where he claims that if it were prove that the universe was
eternal he would reinterpret Biblical verses accordingly.
113
32
scientific causation in their worldview.116 Knowledge and wisdom was the basis of any
relationship with God.117
Both the Code and the Guide make it clear, however, that knowledge alone is not sufficient to
achieve a true connection with God. Knowledge must lead to experiential love of God. As
Georges Vajda identified, it is significant that after the book of knowledge Maimonides
entitles his next book Ahavah, dealing with subjects related to prayer. For it is love of God
that man must aspire to in all his actions.118
In the Code, concerned with teaching Jews the fundamentals of belief and knowledge,
Maimonides explains this clearly: As I have mentioned, the first section of the ‘Book of
Knowledge’ is dedicated to attaining theoretical knowledge of God.119 But in the second
chapter, Maimonides emphasises that this knowledge of God and his creations leads to love
and fear of Him.120 To Maimonides, the natural world creates a lust to know more of God.121
The nature of the relationship between knowledge and love is reciprocal; knowledge of God
causes love for Him and in turn this love leads to an increase of knowledge.122 It is clear,
therefore, that the knowledge that Maimonides discusses in the first section of the Code is not
simply the memorising of Aristotelian precepts. Maimonides is proscribing the way to love
God through knowledge of Him. It is also telling that at the end of the second chapter,
116
Maimonides, Guide, 1:73.
This can be seen as a response to Kellner’s argument that Maimonides did not see
mitzvoth in terms of intrinsic spiritual worth. The wisdom contained within the mitzvoth gave
them ‘intrinsic’ status as wisdom is the defining attribute of God’s world.
118
Georges Vajda, L’amour de Dieu dans la théologie juive du moyen age (Paris, 1957), 123.
119
Maimonides, MT, ‘Hilkhot Yesodei Ha Torah’, 1:1.
120
ibid 2:1.
121
ibid, 2:11.
122
ibid, 2:2.
117
33
Maimonides implies that ma’aseh merkabah comprises of both knowledge and love of
God.123
The ninth and tenth chapters of ‘hilkhot teshuva’ highlight the deeply emotive nature of this
aspect of the relationship with God. In line with the approach he adopts at the beginning of
the book of knowledge, Maimonides mentions that worldly comforts are important as they
enable the individual to have peace of mind to concentrate on increasing wisdom and
knowledge of Torah, which then leads to focusing on God.124 This focus leads to love which
is the most desirable means of having a relationship with God, unlike fear which is
considered unsuitable for a wise person.125 With noticeable passion, Maimonides then
elucidates the appropriate way to serve God out of love, whereby the individual’s ‘soul is
bound with love of God, and lusts for it constantly as if love sick for a woman, constantly
thinking of her.’126 This experience is seen as appropriate, not exceptional. Whilst this is the
necessary degree of love, the means of achieving this love requires the following preparation:
He leaves everything in the world apart from it, as commanded 'with all your heart and all
your soul', he cannot love God except through the knowledge by which he knows Him by,
and according to this knowledge will be the love, if a little a little, if a lot a lot, therefore a
person has to dedicate themselves to understand and internalise the wisdom which reveal him
his creator according to the power in man to understand.127
Notice here that Maimonides does not equate love of God with knowledge of God. It is not
that love is knowledge, love is a separate experiential devotion; but this experience,
Maimonides argues, that will be directly proportionate to knowledge acquired. Knowledge
123
ibid.
ibid, ‘Hilkhot Teshuva’, 9:1.
125
ibid, 10:1.
126
ibid, 10:2.
127
ibid, 10:3.
124
34
seems to run parallel to rather than beneath the experience of God. This love does not appear
to be ecstatic or visionary in nature; it remains a product of knowledge acquired.
Importantly, Maimonides acknowledges that there is only so much he can write on the matter
to successfully communicate these truths. Natural science can be taught even to those who
don’t fully understand but the ways of God require subtlety and nuance to comprehend.128
This is particularly interesting as it explains why Maimonides spends far more time
describing the details of knowledge required rather than the experience that it is necessary to
feel. Words are somewhat inadequate in describing deeply felt experiences of the divine and
Maimonides can only relate them by comparison to a man’s love for a woman, something
that intuitively can be absorbed by the reader. Like the mystic, Maimonides tried to connect
with the divine in a manner that was deeply passionate, anchored in both knowledge and
love.
Despite its different audience and tone, the Guide presents a similar picture of the
relationship between knowledge and love of God. Written for those perplexed by the
contradictions between revealed religion and philosophical training, it prioritises rational
understanding but nevertheless presents a narrative of experiential development.
The Guide both extols the virtue of rational knowledge whilst acknowledging its limits. In his
introduction, Maimonides explains that no great divine secret can be known completely to
any human being, and “sometimes truth flashes out to us so we think that it is day, and then
matter and habit in their various forms conceal it so that we find ourselves again in an
128
ibid, 4:11.
35
obscure night, almost as we were at first.”129 Maimonides again realises that true knowledge
of God cannot be adequately expressed in words, even with all the tools at the disposal of the
philosopher. Similarly, since such understanding by its very nature comes in flashes it is
impossible for words to truly communicate it in its essence: “We are like someone in a very
dark night over whom lightning flashes time and time again.”130 His introduction seems to
leave room for experience in the relationship between man and God. By acknowledging the
limits of both the human mind and the ability of words to express the most profound truths,
Maimonides shows that reason alone can never be enough without the emotional and
experiential element of human life. As he mentions later in the Guide, if the only way of
knowing God was through speculation the human mind would be forever frustrated.131
Understanding Him, Maimonides comments, means wearying of the aim of understanding
Him.132
The Guide does, however, largely champion the virtue of reason. Maimonides describes the
need to perfect the active intellect in order to achieve human perfection and elevates
philosophers to a level beyond learned Talmudists in the parable of the palace.133
The essential idea of developing the mind to its ultimate potential and that knowledge of God
is a prerequisite to a relationship with Him is consistent in both the Code and the Guide.
Noticeably, Maimonides’ description of the need to empty the mind of all except God in his
analogy of the palace distinctly resembles the passage at the end of ‘hilkhot Teshuvah.’134
129
Maimonides, Guide, 1:1‘Introduction to the First Part’, 7.
ibid.
131
ibid, 1:34.
132
ibid, 1:59
133
ibid, 3:27; 3:52.
134
See footnote 118.
130
36
The experiential element of worship is most fully elucidated in the final chapters of the
Guide. Maimonides prefaces chapter 3:51 by explaining that it is aimed at those who have
already secured knowledge of Him, and that he now wishes to describe worship and devotion.
Maimonides acknowledges that knowledge is separate from worship. This worship, however,
is contingent upon knowledge, and Maimonides writes that “if apprehended one should
engage in totally devoting himself to Him, and strengthen the bond between you and Him.”135
It is as if Maimonides has dedicated most of the treatise to areas of knowledge and
understanding but now wishes to enter a further domain, consistent with his view on how
knowledge should be developed. Then the lustful, impassioned and emotive element which
characterises the descriptions of love of God in the Code appears in the Guide in a crescendo
of religious feeling:
Maimonides presents a passionate analysis of the importance of love of God and the intimacy
associated with the relationship. Maimonides describes true faith in terms of developing an
imprint of God inside the heart which has the familiarity of a close friend. In 3:51 he
considers love the final stage, whereby the individual thinks of God at all times even when
engaging in worldly activities. Maimonides dramatically exhorts the individual to focus
exclusively on God when alone at night in bed.136 The dynamic between the intellect and the
spirit is gloriously captured in the depiction of providence: The divine intellect possesses an
overflow which connects God’s mind with our own and providence occurs when the intellect
is joined to God, but crucially God watches over those who love most passionately and this
relationship climaxes in death by a kiss, the ultimate expression of love: “The Sages use the
135
136
Maimonides, Guide, 3:51.
ibid.
37
generally accepted poetic expression of a kiss for intense and passionate love of Him.”137
Maimonides describes the forefathers and Moses as being in permanent states of this
perfection. He seems to acknowledge that the limitations inherent in human understanding
means that at best, we can only see the ‘back’ of God, like Moses, as the divine essence is
ultimately closed to human knowledge.138 Only though the experience of love can the
individual access this proximity with God.
Maimonides’ religious experience compared with the mystical experience
Are these passages evidence, as Blumenthal and Vajda claim, of the longed-for mystical
ascent and climax of Maimonides’ vision?139 Maimonides’ descriptions here of the passionate
embrace of the divine certainly bear resemblance to descriptions of mystical devekut. In fact,
scholar of Hasidism Joseph Weiss saw the source of devekut in Maimonides’ writings.140
This comparison is a useful one; devekut, or ‘cleaving’ to God was a central theme for the
kabbalist. It consisted of a mystical ladder which led via moral and ascetic virtues to the gift
of the holy spirit; penitence, strict observance of law, and moral and spiritual perfection were
mere preliminaries to the life of the vita contemplativa needed to achieve communion with
God.141
In a rare description of personal ecstasy experienced by a kabbalist, R. Eliezer Azkiri
proscribes solitary contemplation, fleeing society and seclusion as necessities in order to
137
ibid.
ibid, 1:37-38.
139
Blumenthal, ‘Maimonides and mysticism’, 151.
140
Naftali Loewenthal, ‘The Image of Maimonides in Habad Hasidism’ in Carlos Fraenkel
(ed.), Traditions of Maimonideanism (Leiden, 2009), 283.
138
141
Zvi Werblowsky, Joseph Karo: Lawyer and Mystic (New York, 1976), 60.
38
achieve communion with God. 142 He describes his own intensive love of God, where he
would arise in the night out of passionate desire for connection without any boundaries.143
This bears remarkable resemblance to Maimonides’ descriptions. Maimonides, the great
philosopher and intellectualist described his own personal quest for God in similar terms to a
prominent sixteenth century kabbalist. He too had a ‘ladder’ of ascent, not a mystical one but
a very practical, this-worldly one.
Nevertheless, the Guide also makes it clear that Maimonides did not see mystical ecstasy as
the final end of the religious experience. Like in the Code, the relationship between
knowledge and love is complex and reciprocal. The final chapter of the Guide, 3:54, seems to
serve as a qualification to the previous chapters. Maimonides reminds his audience that fear
of God must be a consequence of this love. Ecstasy is not an end in itself as it must return to
improve the affairs of this world. Maimonides points out in 3:54 that realising that God is
constantly with us demands a standard of behaviour, the absence of which indicates a
misplaced love. Love, Maimonides points out, is stimulated by opinions taught by the law,
whereas fear is taught by the actions taught by law.144 In citing the Midrash Bereshit Rabba,
Maimonides concludes the Guide in again expressing the limits of knowledge and that
knowledge must always express itself in emulating God through action of lovingkindness,
judgment and righteousness. These actions should be assimilated into our lives and should be
our way of life.145 Unlike the mystic, Maimonides denies that the chasm that exists between
human intellect and a comprehension of God’s essence can be narrowed through experiential
realms.
142
A kabbalist who authored the work Sefer Hareidim (1583).
Werblowsky, Joseph Karo, 61.
144
Maimonides, Guide, 3:54.
145
ibid.
143
39
Some scholars of Maimonides’ philosophy see pessimism in the final chapter of the Guide,
claiming that Maimonides ended with a sense of defeat in concluding that no positive
knowledge can be gleaned of God and therefore giving primacy to a life of action. 146 But as
this essay has shown, Maimonides’ vision was never purely cerebral. Even in his triumphal
ascent to a lustful relationship with the almighty which started with knowledge and ended in
a meditative state, Maimonides required normativity to prevail. Blumenthal’s argument that
Maimonides envisages a development which culminates in the mystical experience is
therefore misleading. Mystical ecstasy is not the ‘end’ of religious devotion; it is perhaps an
experiential end but also a means of stimulating further action.
Maimonides’ thought suggests that the attainment of knowledge, love and the performance
of good deeds must remain ever-present throughout the life of the individual. The experiential
element and the cognitive one are intertwined, as seen from the Code, and Maimonides would
strongly disapprove of the concept of excessive time spent in meditation over the divine
names, so devoid of this-worldly wisdom or action. The descent characterises Maimonides’
religious thought as much as the ascent, and the ecstatic nature of the mysticism found in
kabbalistic writings bears only partial resemblance to Maimonides’ own vision.
Conclusion
146
Pines, ‘The limitations of Human Knowledge According to Al-Farabi, ibn Bajja, and
Maimonides In Isadore Twersky (ed.)’, Studies in Medieval Jewish History and Literature’,
100.
40
The difficulty in concluding the discussion of whether it is reasonable to refer to Maimonides
as a mystic is that Maimonides’ thought tends to emerge in accordance with the way the
evidence is presented: When Maimonides’ writings are viewed as a list of philosophical
opinions and standpoints regarding commandments, prophecy and providence, he emerges
clearly as a philosopher who opposed mysticism.147 When his writings are viewed as part of a
spiritual and experiential progression of love culminating in the final chapters of the Guide,
he emerges as a certain type of mystic. Yet both these positions are misleading when adopted
on their own.
It is true that Maimonides rejected mysticism in the sense of the kabbalistic esoteric tradition,
speculative theosophy and even the detached visionary ecstasy of the mystical experience.
Yet understandings of mysticism have acquired more fluidity in relation to Jewish thinkers
and this has impacted the way in which Maimonides’ writings must be approached.
Moreover, the synthesis between philosophy and religion was not an artificial one:
Maimonides must not be purely viewed as a philosopher but as a man who pursued wisdom
wherever he found it, not as an Aristotelian but one who saw the study of Aristotle as crucial
to the love of God; using this integrative model our perspective with regard to Maimonides
and mysticism thus becomes less linear and more thematically understood.
Rather than simply viewing Maimonides in terms of the opinions he subscribed to on
philosophical matters and positions he adopted with regard to topics such as holiness and
providence, the scholar must also view Maimonides in terms of the experience that he tried to
develop within the minds and hearts of his students. From Maimonides’ writings it is clear
that a relationship with God requires the development of an experiential element, which is the
147
This is clearly Kellner’s presentation of the matter.
41
crowning glory of the mystical experience. Knowledge of is not, as many scholars have
claimed, sufficient. A crucial component of mysticism is the thirst and quest for the living
God, and this too was a crucial aspect of Maimonides’ writings.
In this context I would like to call attention to Evelyn Underhill’s comment regarding the
nature of mysticism in general:
While mysticism is an essential element in full human religion, it can never be the whole
content of such religion. It requires to be embodies in some degree in history, dogma and
institutions if it is to reach the sense-conditioned human mind. Secondly, that the antithesis
between the religions of authority and of spirit, the church and the mystic is false. Each
requires the other.148
It seems that this is a fair appraisal of the role that mystical experience played in
Maimonides’ writings and may provide a good model for future evaluations of medieval
Jewish thinkers; for Maimonides, the experience of mysticism was an important component
of his thought but firmly embedded within the ‘dogma and institutions’ of Talmudic study,
philosophy and commitments to the Jewish community. His writings contain themes that
overlap with those found within mystical writings, but in the same way that the rationalists
did not have a monopoly over intellectual rigour the mystics did not have a monopoly over
impassioned experience.
This study has shown that whilst there were clearly different schools of thought in the twelfth
and thirteenth century often separated geographically, the fundamental differences between
schools should not be overemphasised or overdramatised. It should also not be forgotten that
full-fledged kabbalists such as R. Shem Tov ibn Gaon openly recognised Maimonides'
greatness as a halakhist.149 The all-encompassing nature of halakha in Jewish life means that
148
149
Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism (12th ed. London, 1930), 4.
Idel, ‘Maimonides and Kabbalah’, 51.
42
to be recognised for halakhic greatness is also to be admired for piety. In fact, even the
sixteenth century kabbalists who saw Maimonides as having fundamentally sinned in terms
of his philosophical viewpoints were eager to redeem him.150 In the eyes of many Jewish
thinkers, Maimonides’ philosophical stance was recognised as one component of a much
larger picture that could be ignored if necessary.
Yet in their writings, his critics ignored the fact that the development of a connection with
God was fundamental to Maimonides’ religious vision even within his philosophical
writings; like the kabbalists, Maimonides understood full well that religion requires an
experiential element. Maimonides cannot reasonably be described as mystical in an historical
or sociological sense, but when his writings are approached in terms of the religious
experience they tried to promote, his teachings bear remarkable resemblance to mystical
writings.
150
See ibid, 52-53.
43
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