The following group of essays emerged out of a seminar held at the Association for Jewish Studies conference in 2015. As section heads of Jewish History and Culture in Antiquity and Rabbinic Literature and Culture, tasked to think about how to address gaps in our fields, we recognized that despite a large amount of scholarship available on the Jerusalem Temple and its priesthood, there was a dearth of cross-disciplinary scholarly exchange, especially between ancient Jewish historians and those of us who engage in literary analysis of rabbinic sources. As a result, our divisions joined together to create “The Jerusalem Temple in History, Memory, and Ritual,” taking advantage of the “seminar” format at the conference. Twelve scholars, each working with different source material and employing different methodological approaches, participated.

This study is an attempt to reconstruct the intellectual life of the Crimean Jewish communities (both Rabbanite and Karaite) from the Middle Ages to early modern times in their wide cultural context. The article is based on manuscripts related to Solkhat, the regional capital of the Golden Horde, and Genoese (and early Ottoman) Kaffa, which can shed light on the spiritual life of their Jewish communities. These manuscripts provide us with a perspective on the areas of interests, patterns of knowledge, and modes of study prevalent in these Jewish communities. They offer evidence for the contents of Jewish libraries and the span of Crimean Jews’ intellectual contacts with their Jewish and non-Jewish cultural environments.

In an era when cannibalism occupied the European imagination and became a political weapon that could be effectively aimed against the Other within or elsewhere, as well as a test case for the concept of humanity, it is hardly surprising to find similar rhetoric in internal Jewish discourse of the early modern era. This article shows Rabbi Jacob Emden's contribution to this discourse in the eighteenth century, and extends the boundaries of the scholarly discussion beyond establishing Jewish-Christian proximity. Emden's halakhic position on the question “Is it permissible to benefit from the cadaver of a dead gentile?” (She'elat Ya‘aveẓ) connects cannibalism and theological heresy springing from an overly literal reading of the rabbinical canon, as well as ties it to the concept of the seven Noahide laws. For Emden, the consumption of human flesh, literally and particularly metaphorically, distinguishes between the sons of Noah and heretics, as well as between humanity and savages. Emden advanced this concept in his polemical writings against the Sabbatian heresy in the 1750s, when he became embroiled in controversy with Rabbi Jonathan Eibeschütz and the Frankists.

Jerusalem in the late Second Temple period (second century BCE–70 CE) was transformed into the largest pilgrimage city of the Hellenized East and the sole locus of sacrificial worship of the Jewish God in greater Judea. As argued in this paper, it also became a place for sightseeing and spectacle. By the early Roman era, movement to the city for pilgrimage was a significant component of Mediterranean and Near Eastern travel. The Jewish festival experience may have evolved to cater to the tastes of foreigners now regularly visiting the city from the Jewish Diaspora. The architecture of Herod's Temple complex and the distinctive religious customs practiced within its walls intrigued visitors, whether Jewish or non-Jewish. For those unable to witness the Temple or participate in one of its festivals firsthand, a virtual visit through a “walking-tour” description would have to suffice. Such descriptions, which are attested from the earliest days of the Second Temple, can charter in imaginative invention in order to foster a sense of awe and wonder for the audience.

What is the possibility of secular law in the religious Jewish state? This article will focus this question on the attitude of Zionist halakhic decisors toward the secular law of the land when that land is the State of Israel. Are these decisors willing to recognize Israeli law as falling into the halakhic category of “the King's Law” (mishpat ha-melekh)? Halakhic literature offers various justifications for the king's authority. The first justification is philosophical and jurisprudential; the second is political; and the third is legal in nature. Various justifications for the King's Law yield different models of its force and authority, which contrast in the relationship they posit between the King's Law and Torah Law. This article examines this question from the perspective of the legal discussion of the relationship between competing systems of law (private international law and issues related to the conflict of laws).

When the mishnaic authors narrated the Temple rituals of the past, they made choices in how to imagine the nuanced dynamics of actors, spaces, objects, and actions that make up the ritual enactments. These choices point to their understanding of how Temple ritual worked and what it accomplished. Taking an unusual feature of many of the Mishnah's Temple-ritual narratives—the shifting back and forth between singular and plural, or, between individual and group—as a starting point, this article argues that for the rabbis of the Mishnah, Temple ritual bound together every Israelite with the collective whole, while simultaneously allowing for individuality. Moreover, it created a sense of solidarity and belonging within multiple levels of Jewish collective life—the whole people, the local city or town, and the lineal groupings of Israelite, Levite, and priest. Similarities to mishnaic rules about prayer-centered rituals, moreover, suggest that the rabbis believed these functions of ritual continued even in the absence of the Temple.

This article explores rabbinic traditions that see in the character of Joseph a figure of uncertain sexual orientation. I examine a series of rabbinic and biblical texts in which an unconventional gender dynamic may be present. While it is true that these biblical and rabbinic texts ran contrary to the normative ideational and behaviorally prescriptive traditions concerning sexuality presented by the main body of biblical and rabbinic texts, it is nonetheless true that the texts I examine invite readers to see an alternative dynamic through their stories. I will employ a variety of methodologies, including philological/critical scholarship, close literary reading, and queer theory, through which we might most profitably examine the interpretative traditions I consider.

A feminist analysis of Bavli Yoma draws our attention to one of the ways the rabbis reflect on their relationship with the priesthood, which is through the lens of the physical body. The Temple procedure detailed in the first seven chapters of the tractate, focused as it is on the priest's body, is entirely different from the bodily self-denial discussed in the eighth chapter, where eating, washing, anointing, sandal wearing, and sexual relations are prohibited. Continuities between the observance of Yom Kippur in the Temple and the prohibitions that define the rabbinic Yom Kippur are surprisingly lacking, given the extent to which the rabbis controlled both the Temple accounts in Yoma and the discussions about Yom Kippur in the eighth chapter of this tractate. Focusing on references to feet, a part of both the Temple rite and the rabbinic observance of Yom Kippur, this article will present one perspective on how the Bavli offers insight into the rabbinic departure from the Temple Yom Kippur.

As recent research has emphasized, the Mishnah tractate Yoma is a model par excellence of the category of Mishnah tractates that take the form of narrative and describe key institutions of the lost Temple and its rituals. But even among those tractates, Yoma is unique in that it served as a source for liturgical recitation in what became the Avodah liturgy. This paper will look at the complex relationships between textual transmission and liturgical recitation in the history of the tractate by examining internal and external textual evidence. In particular, this discussion includes a detailed analysis of a papyrus fragment from Oxyrhynchus that has received insufficient attention so far. It is argued from this evidence that the tractate's literary nature coalesced with the substance of the tractate to produce a virtual enactment of sacrifice for its reciters and performers.

The Jewish Tandelmarkt in Prague's Old Town was a nonresidential Jewish exclave, situated outside of Prague's Jewish Town. This thriving marketplace afforded Jewish merchants and peddlers an opportunity to ply their wares in the Old Town, but it also left them unprotected in the face of physical and verbal attacks. This article examines memoirs, travelogues, guidebooks, newspapers, novels, and visual images to understand how the Tandelmarkt (junk market) functioned in various discourses about Prague Jewry, especially in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Jews were vulnerable and exposed in the Tandelmarkt, but the centrality and visibility of this marketplace also allowed non-Jews to observe their “exotic” Jewish neighbors. A nineteenth-century novelist described the Tandelmarkt as a “theater” where passersby could “lose themselves” for half an hour in its disarray and commotion. At times it was a theater of violence, where Jews fell victim to attack. It was also a theater of emancipation, where Jews could show their Christian neighbors that they were capable of self-improvement and change.

This article examines a narrative about a seven-headed demon in Bavli Kiddushin 29b as an entry point into a much broader conversation about the Talmud's demonology. I first lay out the interpretive challenges of the story, then argue that B. Kiddushin's demonic discourse has more in common with ancient Near Eastern demonologies that it does with contemporaneous Zoroastrian materials. Two particular aspects of the rabbinic depiction of the demon in B. Kiddushin align with Mesopotamian characterizations of demons: (1) the physical description of the demon as a seven-headed serpent, and (2) his demonic nature. At the same time, the way that the rabbis describe the mode of the demon's defeat strongly parallels contemporaneous Syriac Christian modes of exorcism. This article demonstrates that the talmudic story exists at the intersection of more ancient and contemporary concerns and typifies rabbinic selectivity in adopting and adapting available discourses about demons. To conclude, I discuss some of the broader implications of this observation for our study of the Babylonian Talmud in its Sasanian cultural context.

The mythical ʾeven shetiyah, often translated as the “foundation stone,” marks the physical place where the Jerusalem temples once stood in the rabbinic imagination. In its earliest incarnation it identified the place where the ark of the covenant resided in Solomon's Temple. Over the centuries it absorbed cosmogonic and eventually eschatological meaning. In later post-talmudic rabbinic literature, it adopted another mythic trope—the seal on the tehom. I argue that these two separate narrative strands of a seal on the tehomunder the Temple and ʾeven shetiyahin the Temple became intertwined, but only in late (post-talmudic) rabbinic midrash. I trace this evolutionary trend and argue that while the early rabbis both innovated and reinvigorated older biblical and ancient Near Eastern cosmogonic motifs with their ʾeven shetiyah, the later rabbinic texts were influenced by Christian and Muslim competition for spiritual and earthly Jerusalem. The stone that started as a means for rabbinic self-authorization became a reassertion of God's control of history and protection of Israel and the world, but in the process displaced priestly authority.

Rabbinic literature offers competing images of embryology and the relationship between mother and fetus. The Palestinian midrashic collection Leviticus Rabbah 14 marginalizes the active role of the mother and depicts the process of gestation as a dangerous time for the fetus. God is in charge of the care and birth of the child, and the father is the lone source of physical material. Passages in the third chapter of Bavli tractate Niddah, in contrast, reference the biological contributions of the mother and portray an idyllic image of the womb. This study explores how cultural differences, variances in representations of women, and sources of authoritative medical knowledge in Sasanian Persia and Roman Palestine contributed to the formation of these texts with markedly different understandings of the relationship between mother and fetus. I will argue that the study of the Sasanian Persian context is key to understanding the Bavli motifs, but that the Palestinian sources can best be understood with references not only to contemporaneous Greco-Roman sources, but also to ancient Iranian and Mesopotamian works, which have been generally overlooked by scholars.

“Intersectionality,” a concept coined and developed by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw, examines how our various identities change in meaning and valence when placed in dynamic relation with one another. Instead of exploring identity traits like “race,” “gender,” “religion,” and so on in isolation, an intersectional approach asks what these various characteristics “do” to one another in combination. I suggest that an intersectional approach—asking “what does Whiteness do to Jewishness?”—can help illuminate elements of the Jewish experience that would otherwise remain obscure. The core claim is that Whiteness and Jewishness in combination function in ways that are not necessarily grasped if one atomizes the identities and holds them apart. What Whiteness “does” to Jewishness is act as an accelerant for certain forms of antisemitic marginalization even as it ratifies a racialized hierarchy within the Jewish community. Absent an intersectional vantage, many political projects and controversies surrounding Jewish equality will be systematically misunderstood.

An award-winning poet, an accomplished Talmudist, and a frequent contributor to the pages of Haaretz, Admiel Kosman is hardly new to the scene of contemporary Hebrew letters. However, his work only recently became accessible to English readers when the first translated volume of his poetry appeared in 2011. Reading his work within the context of Martin Buber, whom Kosman regards as his “rebbe,” one discovers a profound challenge to principles of relation—political as well as personal—that are grounded in fixed categories of identity and belonging. Drawing upon the Song of Songs, which whispers throughout his work, Kosman offers us a strong counterresponse to the dominant model of the lyric monologue, with a poetics that aspires towards the dialogic.

This article discusses the biographies of Menachem Mendel Schneerson (the Rebbe) within the broader context of Chabad historiographic lore, in particular the quasi-historical writings of Yosef Yiẓḥak Schneersohn from the 1930s and 1940s. Described by Ada Rapoport-Albert as “hagiography with footnotes,” these seemingly scholarly and modern texts constituted an alternative narrative to that of academic Jewish history. From this vantage point, I consider how biographies published by academics and by hasidic authors have mutually influenced each other, particularly in their scope, form, and method. To that end, I examine the controversy that surrounded the 2010 publication of the first academic biography of Schneerson, Samuel Heilman and Menachem Friedman's The Rebbe, and analyze the strategies undertaken by subsequent authors that have allowed them to present the Rebbe's life in a form that was no longer “hagiography with footnotes” (which would have alienated a secular readership) but as seemingly impartial biographies (without alienating the hasidic readership).