A few years ago, a committee, of which I was a member, was asked to select, for a prize awarded by Moment magazine, the greatest living man and woman scholars in the field of Jewish studies. There was immediate consensus as to the former: who else but Professor Salo W. Baron? It is indicative of his almost legendary range of knowledge, of both primary and secondary sources, in the dozen or more languages in which he was fluent, of the general literature in the fields of the humanities and the social sciences, and of his prodigious productivity that a question frequently asked about him was whether he had assistants in the composition of his numerous works. The answer to that question was a resounding no! His only assistant was his late wife. His unflagging industry was matched only by the independence of his critical judgment.

The impact of Salo Wittmayer Baron on the study of the history of the Jews during the Middle Ages has been enormous. This impact has, in part, been generated by Baron's voluminous writings, in particular his threevolume The Jewish Community and–even more so–his eighteen-volume Social and Religious History of the Jews. Equally decisive has been Baron's influence through his students and his students' students. Almost all researchers here in North America currently engaged in studying aspects of medieval Jewish history can surely trace their intellectual roots back to Salo Wittmayer Baron. In a real sense, many of Baron's views have become widey assumed starting points for the field, ideas which need not be proven or irgued but are simply accepted as givens. Over the next decade or decades, hese views will be carefully identified and reevaluated. At some point, a major study of Baron's legacy, including his influence on the study of medieval Jewish history, will of necessity eventuate. Such a study will have, on the one hand, its inherent intellectual fascination; at the same time, it will constitute an essential element in the next stages of the growth of the field, as it inevitably begins to make its way beyond Baron and his twentieth-century ambience.

Why has the death of Salo Wittmayer Baron on November 25, 1989 at the age of ninety-four elicited so little comment? No chorus of tributes, memories, or evaluations erupted at the passing of this century's most erudite and prolific Jewish historian, whose standard of excellence almost singlehandedly opened the American university to the field of Jewish studies. The silence, I suspect, tells us as much about the present state of Jewish studies as about the limitations of his work. It is surely not related to the magnitude of his scholarly legacy or its unrelieved and often maddening thematic mode of discourse or even its frequently inelegant style. Sadly, Professor Baron had fallen out of sync with his time long before he died, in part because the one-sidedness of the final ten volumes of the second edition of his Social and Religious History of the Jews abandoned the balance and integration of external and internal events vital to his own understanding of Jewish history.

This study presents a new interpretation of tithe references in Scripture. It departs from the conventional view that the tithe is merely a tax levied on the people. Rather it sees the tithe as a partnership or compact with God in which tangible goods are exchanged for intangible ones. Taking the Pentateuch in its entirety as our contextreveals the tithe to bepart of a pattern of reciprocities in which goods are exchanged for divine acceptance, protection, and blessing.

In October 1912, the twenty-four-year-old Hebrew writer Shmuel Yosef Agnon embarked on a ship in the port of Jaffa, then Palestine, the destination of his trip being Germany, or, to be more exact, the city of Berlin. Agnon left for Germany in the company of Dr. Arthur Ruppin, known as the “father of Zionist settlement in Eres Yisra'el.” The friendship between Agnon and Ruppin had developed in Jaffa, where Agnon had tutored both Ruppin and his wife in Hebrew. And it was probably with the support of Dr. Ruppin, himself a native of Germany and a graduate of a German university, that Agnon decided to leave Palestine, where he had resided for more than three years, to see the world, which in those days meant Berlin.