Written Treasures – Spoken Gems

Looking Back on Our International Conference in Mainz, 17–20 June 2024

Katharina Wendl & Annett Martini

When we launched the organization of this conference with a call for papers last October, we were overwhelmed by the large number, high quality and, above all, the incredible thematic breadth of abstracts. It was virtually impossible for us to select only a limited number of speakers based on this rich pool of submissions. This is why we decided to turn our idea of holding one conference into two: an in-person event in Mainz and a virtual conference slated for September. At this point, we would again like to express our gratitude to all the researchers from Algeria, Azerbaijan, Brazil, Canada, Egypt, European countries, Ghana, India, Iran, Israel, Turkey, the USA and Vietnam who are involved in making these two conferences possible. Thanks to all of them, we were able to put together two incredibly rich and diverse programs.

Fast forward to four days in June 2024, which were devoted to questions about how a book, a scroll, a woodblock or an icon can become a sacred object for a particular community and how sacredness is connected to the material used for manufacturing them. What rituals are associated with these extraordinary artefacts during their production and handling? What stories are told about them and their manufacturers? What place do the materials, the script or the layout occupy in the cultural memory of religious communities or within secularized societies?

Scholars presented research on what makes books, icons, woodcuts, inscriptions, banners and sutras sacred artefacts. Some asked how narratives, rules and customs surrounding writing tools and materials have evolved. What emerged from the panels and discussions is that all these sacred objects under investigation are somehow connected to script and text respectively.

BUI THI THANH MAI (Hanoi) presented her research on ancient sacred woodblock art and how Buddhist monks of the Truc Lam-Yen Tu tradition have approached them in the light of technological advances. MOHAMMAD HOSAIN FOROUGHI (Teheran) traced the history of the Negel Qur’an, which is revered by the people of the Iranian village of Negel and beyond as a special manuscript granting blessings and security. His presentation led to discussions about the veneration of religious books, which was picked up again after presentations by CLEMENA ANTONOVA (Vienna), CORNELIA SOLDAT (Cologne) and MIGUEL GALLÉS MAGRI (Barcelona) who talked about the making, sanctification and changing purpose and meaning of icons in Orthodox Christian traditions across different centuries.

UTA LAUER (Hamburg) and RAJENDRA SINGH THAKUR (New Delhi) shared their research about Buddhist sacred literature and changing attitudes to its literary and architectural heritage. Papers on medieval English poetry as an embodiment of Christ (NATALIE JONES, London) and the highly decorative chessboard-plenarium of Otto the Mild (KRISZTINA ILKO, Cambridge), Shia Muharram banners as expressions of mourning or protest (ZEINAB VESSAL, Berkeley), and hidden numerological meanings in Ottoman culture (MUSTAFA ÖZAGAC, Istanbul) and the Sufist Hurufi sect (SLOBODAN ILIC, Nicosia) contributed to a nuanced and insightful discussion of sacredness in religious texts beyond genres that are commonly considered sacred.

Holiness, however, is not only found in the written word but also in performance, liturgy and the traditions that develop around religious texts. In an insightful presentation on Zoroastrian manuscript culture, SHERVIN FARRIDNEJAD (Hamburg) showed that holiness in Zoroastrianism is not created by the act of writing, but by reciting religious texts from memory. Orality in relation to the Qur’an was the main theme of SAYED HASSAN AKHLAQ’S (Baltimore) contribution to the conference. The importance of the spoken word was also highlighted in JONATHAN ELUKIN’S (Hartford) paper on medieval oath-taking. BOSCO BANGURA (Leuven) and DE-VALERA NYM BOTCHWAY (Cape Coast) explained how Pentecostal Christians and Muslims in Ghana relate to scripture as an embodiment of holiness to be consumed by the believer (metaphorically or literally) to become one with the spiritual messages of the Bible or the Quran.

While most contributors were concerned with the richness of one religious tradition and its notions of scripture and ritual writing traditions, some also presented the results of their comparative studies. For example, HANNA TERVANOTKO (Toronto) discussed the divinatory use of scripture in the ancient Jewish and Christian traditions. HEYDAR DAVOUDI (Evanston) analysed the image of the Ark of the Covenant in Jewish and Muslim traditions. The sacred materiality of scripture is not exclusive to the scriptures themselves. In many religious traditions, their production as well as their makers must meet certain criteria and comply with various religious rules. HUSSIEN SOLIMAN (Alexandria/Cairo) and WALID GHALI (London) explored the traditions and instructions that Quranic scribes must follow and their required character traits, sparking insightful discussions that compared Islamic ritual writing rules with Jewish scribal traditions. JOANNA HOMRIGHAUSEN (Durham, NC) added perspectives on the reed, a central writing tool in Jewish scribal tradition, to this conversation. FARNAZ MASOUMZADEH (Isfahan) presented her research on the sacred letterforms in early Islamic Quranic manuscripts, highlighting the hidden meanings of individual strokes and lines in Quranic manuscripts. THOMAS RAINER (Zurich) traced the use and depiction of purple script in Christian art and biblical manuscripts. But once words deemed sacred have been written down, consecrated and used, what happens when, after many years, these sacred texts are worn out and cannot be repaired anymore? LEOR JACOBI (Ramat Gan) and NETTA SCHRAMM (Beer Sheva) discussed religious laws, customs and sensitivities regarding the disposal of Jewish ritual texts and sound recordings. While Leor Jacobi focused on medieval Spanish Jewish culture, Netta Schramm explored contemporary discussions and dilemmas facing laypeople and rabbis in dealing with Jewish texts and recordings that are in their possession and that they wish to dispose of.

The breadth and depth of the presentations were fascinating, enlightening and eye-opening. Despite the different religious traditions, time periods, media and cultures studied by each contributor, the conversations and insights gained from this interdisciplinary gathering of scholars from so many religions and cultures were, indeed, fruitful. They allowed participants to see their research in the wider context of religion, art history, intellectual history and cultural studies.

While the research project „Materialised Holiness“ focuses exclusively on Jewish notions of scribal culture, Jewish scribal traditions, and Torah scrolls, it is no surprise that such an interdisciplinary conference has been part of the project’s plans from the beginning. Torah scrolls are unique and defining to Judaism in their production, use, lore, and history, as emphasised by Prof. DAVID STERN (Cambridge, Mass.) in his keynote address „How to Make a Book Holy: The Case of the Jewish Tradition.”

However, Jewish scribal rules and narratives about writing in Jewish tradition did not develop in a vacuum. Rather, they were shaped inter alia by technological and economic developments. Moreover, they were influenced by the cultures in which the Jewish diaspora lived. The values, norms, traditions and beliefs of mainstream Christian or Muslim societies impacted Jewish traditions, too. Thus, despite all the theological and cultural differences, the meaning attributed to the act of writing and veneration of Jewish sacred texts have parallels in different religious traditions. Many rules and traditions about the painstaking manufacture, careful usage, respectful handling and dignified disposal of Torah scrolls can be linked, paralleled, and contrasted with those of other religious traditions. Therefore, comparatively studying Torah scrolls and other sacred writings can stimulate not only dialogue and mutual understanding but also new insights. It is precisely the interweaving of different cultures, the interdependence of Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist and other ritual professionals as well as lay people, that creates the rich, multifaceted practical, mystical, exegetical and philosophical traditions that imbue texts not only with religious meaning but with holiness.

The diverse and multifaceted research findings that were presented in the auditorium of the Mainz Academy of Sciences and Literature were discussed not only in the panel sessions but also during breaks, dinners and walks through the city of Mainz, for example on the way to a guided tour of the church of St. Stephan, which is adorned with glass murals designed by the artist Marc Chagall. It emerged that an interdisciplinary investigation into sacredness and religious objects, most formerly books, offers many new avenues for research, exchange and dialogue and should be the subject of future research activities.

On Wednesday evening, pianist THOMAS BÄCHLI (Berlin) added music to the conference’s diverse repertoire with a performance of Johann Sebastian Bach and John Cage. The conference was such a warm, productive, and stimulating occasion that will certainly stay with us for a long time.

After four days of constructive dialogue, it was time to say goodbye and express thanks: To the Academy of Sciences and Literature in Mainz for hosting the conference, to the team at Freie Universität, both those who came to Mainz and those who worked in the background to make this conference possible and above all to the contributors, participants and moderators of this conference.

Some participants did not have to travel far to get to Mainz. Many others, though, had to travel across half of the globe to join us at the Academy of Sciences and Literature. In the months leading up to the conference, several scholars, in addition to preparing their papers, had to submit visa applications, attend appointments at German embassies, and hand in a dozen documents to be allowed to attend our conference. Unfortunately, two scholars were prevented from joining us in person due to bureaucratic reasons that restrict academic exchange. We hope to give them a platform for showcasing their important research in our upcoming online conference entitled “Creating More Holiness” (Sept 23-25). Seeing the difficulties that scholars from other parts of the world face in engaging in academic exchange humbled us. It also forced us to reflect on the Western privileges that come with having the ‚right‘ passport, the ‚right‘ country of residence, and being employed by the ‚right‘ academic institution.

It is hoped that the conversations initiated by Creating Holiness will continue and that this meeting in Mainz will generate collaborations, partnerships and new ideas for further research topics and questions. Our first joint project will be the publication of the articles that will grow out of the papers presented at the two conferences. We are already in talks with the publisher Brepols for this matter. Thanks to the enormous cultural diversity represented by the contributions, we hope to sharpen with this volume the phenomenological view of writing as a particular sacred activity. We also expect this collection of papers to challenge our own inherently narrow perspective on the Jewish tradition of writing. Judaism is not an island. Naturally, the diverse cultures in which Jewish diasporas have existed, have made an impact on Jewish book production – and vice versa: The Jewish understanding of what a sefer ha-qodesh should look like influenced the Christian and Muslim spheres of sacred writing. Finally, we would like to express again our thanks to the Academy of Sciences and Literature for hosting us in Mainz for this four-day conference. In addition, we very much want to thank the Federal Ministry of Education and Research for funding this conference so generously.

A footnote from the Gotha Research Library, written with “effort and acuratesse”

Annett Martini

The Gotha Research Library holds a beautifully calligraphed instruction for copying Torah scrolls and haftarot. The writing instruction was recorded in 1726 by the converted Jew Christoph Wallich (1672-1743). On a large sheet of paper 50 cm high and 35 cm wide, the former professional sofer STaM and trained Hazan offers a non-Jewish readership insight into the writing of the texts to be used in the Jewish rite. Both sheets are headed with a few explanatory remarks in German, whereby most of the capital letters of the short introduction are decorated with skillfully crafted, intertwining ornamental patterns. 

Sheet 1 reads:

Nach dem (תיקון סופרים) verordnung der Schreibern wird die ספר תורה Sepher Thora auf z. bis 66 grosse Häute von Kalb Pergamen auf der Haar Seite vor 300 thlr. in einem Jahr geschrieben.

[According to the (תיקון סופרים) decree of the scribes, the ספר תורה Sepher Torah is written on up to 66 large skins of calf parchment on the hair side for 300 thalers, written in a year.]

As an illustrative example, the verses Genesis 1:1-19 are cited below, as they were written by Wallich with his characteristic love for detail just beneath the lines previously drawn with a pencil. The Ashkenazic square script is decorated with fine lines running upwards or downwards at the left corners of the letter bodies; in almost all cases, the lamed features two lines extending upwards at the higher end of the neck, and occasionally the lamed also receives a slightly curved hairline at the lower end. Eventually, the seven letters shin, ayin, teth, nun, zayin, gimel and zade are adorned with three small crowns, as already recommended in the Talmud. Wallich sometimes adds an additional stroke to the shin or zade.

Below this impressive writing sample, Wallich provides us with some insight into several of the fundamental requirements of a ritually pure Torah scroll that the scribe ought to know:

Mit dieser art höhe u. breite der Hebräische Buchstaben wird die gröste Thora geschrieben. Die Zierlichkeit u. schärffe wird auf dem Pergamen viel besser u. sauberer. Der Schreiber hütet sich laut sein schwehr getahnes Eyd folgenden Namen Gottes als שדי,אל, אדני, אלהים, יהוה nicht die buchstaben radirt, denn es darf überhaupt kein Buchstab den anderen anrühren. Auf etlichen Litteren als שעטנז גץ müßen die תגים Drei strichleim auf die Köpffe, u. wo ein פ mit ein Dagesch Forte komt, muß ein Pe Kefula gemacht werden als ויפח. Am schwehrsten ist, daß der Schreiber folgende Wörter gewiß oben auf dem Pergamen Zum anfang bringen muß als Genesis XLIX.8 יהודה, Exodus XXXIV.11 שמר לך, it. Exod. XIV.29 הבאים, Levit. XVI.8 שני, Numeri. XXIV.5 מה טבו u. Deuter. XXXI.8.[sic.]ואעידה. Ohne die sehr viele Observationes, die der Schreiber (wo ers כושר dichtig u. acurat machen will) Observiren muß, alle hierher zu setzen, will Zeit und Raum nicht gestatten. Auf Linien (die nicht mit der Bley Feder, sondern (בשיטות) mit einer ritze muß gemacht werden) muß der Schreiber der verordnung gemäß schreiben. Die Zusammenhefftung der Häute darf mit keiner Seide noch Zwern sondern geschieht mit Seyten.

[With this kind of height and width of the Hebrew letters the largest Torah is written. The delicacy and sharpness is much better and cleaner on the parchment. The scribe is careful not to erase the following names of God as שדי, אל, אדני, אלהים, יהוה, according to his own oath, because no letter may touch another. On some letters, such as שעטנז גץ, the tagin must be made of three strokes on the letter heads, and where a פ comes with a Dagesch Forte, a Pe Kefula must be made such as is the case with ויפח. The most difficult thing is that the scribe must certainly put the following words at the top of the parchment, at the beginning [of the column], as Genesis XLIX.8 יהודה, Exodus XXXIV.11 שמר לך it. Exod. XIV.29 הבאים, Levit. XVI.8 שני, Numbers. XXIV.5 מה טבו u. Deuter. XXXI.[2]8. ואעידה. Without the many observations which the scribe (where he wants to make them dense and accurate) has to observe, time and space will not permit to place them all here, [the scroll is] not kosher. The scribe should write on lines (which must not be made with a plumb quill, but (בשיטות) should be scrached) according to the regulations.The sewing together of the skins must not be done with silk or twine but with strings made of sinew]

Forschungsbibliothek Gotha, AG 24a

Wallich summarizes for a layperson the most important requirements for a ritually pure Torah scroll: the obligatory parchment, the line drawing, and the sewing of the leaves with sinew are all mentioned, as are the tagin, the repairing of the names of God, and the scribal tradition. The latter is referred to with the acronym ביה שמו- bejah šemo, suggesting that six columns of a Torah scroll should begin with a specific word. Here Wallich refers to the Ashkenazi tradition, according to which the beit stands for berešit (Gen 1:1), the he for habba’im (Ex 14:28), and the vav for the word wea’idah (Deut 31:28). The yud refers to the first letter of the word yehudah (Gen 49:8), the šin to the first letter of the word šemor (Ex 34:11), and the mem stands for mah tobu (Num 24:5). 

These explanations do not probe the depths of the Jewish writing practice, but rather are intended to give an impression of the expert knowledge that is required for this demanding work.

Wallich proceeds in a similar way on the second sheet, where the copying of the haftarot is described, likewise accompanied with a writing sample. This is remarkable since rabbinic literature as well as scribal manuals are primarily concerned with the writing of the STaM and – if at all – with the copying of the megillot.

Wallich first notes:

Die (הפטרות) HAPHTAROTH werden mit Puncten u. Accenten geschrieben dahero erforderts eine große mühe und Acuratesse. Die anfangs Wörter werden ohne Figur Gravirt.

[The (הפטרות) haftarot are written with punctuation and accents, so it requires great effort and accuracy. The initial words are engraved without figures.]

This brief remark is followed by another writing example, drawn from the Haftarah Yeshayahu to the Parashah Genesis 1:1-6:8, which corresponds to the prophetic passage Isaiah 42:5-25. Wallich manages to transmit the passage with just a few embellishments to the letters in the form of fine hairlines, for example, on the lamed or the pe. Yet, the first words of the haftarah – כֹּה-אָמַ֞ר – are enlarged and decorated with floral ornaments that are entwined with the first letters.

Wallich explains below the artistically written prophet section:

Zu solcher schrifft brauchen die HAPHTAROTH 28 biß 30 völlige Pergamen Häute, Jedoch etwas kleiner als die bey dem Thora. Wegen der gar zugroße Mühe u. Fleisses ist die Schreib-gebühr dafür 150 Thlr. Von beyden Stücken wird die helffte des Schreiber-Lohns gleich bey liefferung des Pergamends Praenumeriert u. die andere helffte bey der liefferung gezahlt. Sechs bis sieben Monathen ist die Zeit die Haptaroth zu schreiben u. Collationiren. Das Pergamen anlanget so kostet Jede große Haut Zum Thora 16 gr. Und zu den Haphtaroth 12 gr. Sie werden vom Schreiber expresse dazu ausgesucht. Diese zwei Stücke sind in eiener vornehmen Bibliothec höchst nöthig u. nützlich u. werden vor einen grossen raritet unter Christen gehalten, weillen kein Jude einem Chriften nicht vor viel Geld solche Stücke weder verkauffen noch schreiben darf. Ich weiß keinen bekehrten Juden, der eim Sopher u. (ohne ruhm) mir diese Schreibart nachthun wird, dathero nach meinem Tode meine Hebräischen Schrifften viel geld gilten werden. Christ. Wallich 1726.

[With this script [size], the haftaroth require 28 to 30 complete parchment skins, but somewhat smaller than those of the Torah. Because of the great effort and diligence involved, the scribe’s fee is 150 Thalers. Half of the scribe’s fee is paid when the parchment is delivered, and the other half is paid when [the project] is completed. Six to seven months is the time [needed] to write the haftarot. The parchment costs 16 groschen for each large skin for the Torah, and 12 groschen for the haftarot. The skins are selected in advance by the scribe.
These two pieces are highly necessary and useful in a noble library and are considered a great rarity among Christians because a Jew may neither sell nor write such pieces for a Christian, not even for much money. I know of no converted Jew who is a sofer and (and without praising myself) can hold a candle to me in this art of writing, thus after my death, my Hebrew writings will be valued at much money. Christ. Wallich 1726.]

Forschungsbibliothek Gotha, AG 24a

Finally, the question remains as to who Wallich wrote these sample pages and the corresponding explanations? These two representative sheets actually evoke the impression that Wallich was advertising his skills in the art of Jewish writing in order to impress Christian customers. Apparently, converted Jews like Wallich still benefited from the interest in the Jewish tradition shown by Christian scholars, an interest which had already emerged at the beginning of the 16th century. The Enlightenment also saw a growing interest in the customs and rituals of Jewish teaching. This was approached with historical source criticism and an emphatically rational perspective – often fueled by pronounced anti-Semitism.

In fact, another document held in the Gotha Research Library allows us to understand the intended purpose of these remarkable sheets. A letter written by Wallich on 29 August 1726 in Leipzig to Ernst Salomon Cyprian, a Gotha church councillor and vice-president of the High Consistory, reveals that Wallich had already written various manuscripts for the ‘Meyersche Judenschule’ a few years earlier. The ‘Meyersche Judenschule’ was a project initiated by Johann Friedrich Mayer (1650–1712) at the University of Greifswald. As part of it, Jewish ritual objects were installed in the synagogue as an educational exhibition for students. Wallich, who had been registered at the University of Greifswald since 1706, was actively involved in this project. He equipped this educational synagogue with ritual objects and also contributed the corresponding explanations. Once this educational synagogue had later become part of the university library’s collection, Wallich enriched the exhibition in 1724, now called “Mayer’s Judenschule,” with a selection of ritually relevant writings from the Jewish tradition.

The abovementioned letter to Cyprian not only reveals which writings Wallich’s copied for the synagogue. We also learn from this letter what the sample sheets discussed above were all about:

[S. 1] … Man glaubet aber doch, daß Ihro Hoch Fürstl. Durchl. noch bei denen gedancken sind, Deroselben Weltberühmten Bibliothec antweder mit einer richtig verfertigte Synagoga oder doch zum wenigsten mit die nützlich u. vornemsten Stücken (als die ס״ תורה Sepher Thora, הפטרות Haphtaroth, שם המפורש Schem hamphorasch u. מגלות אסתר Megilloth Esther etc.) zu versehen. Aus dieser Ursache habe ich bey [S. 2] Ewr Hochw. Magific. meine gringe Persohn bekannt zu machen gewünschet. Ich habe schon ehedeßen dieselebre Mayerische Synagoge u. vor 2 Jahr dem […] Rath der Stadt Leipzig binnen ein Jahrlang hier auf der anderen Seite gemelten nöthigen Stücken in einer Extra Zierlichkeit – wie hibeyligenden Proben zeiget – geschrieben, wovon der vor kurtzer Zeit hier durch u. nach Warschau Passirter Frantzöscher Ambassadeur selbst gestehen müssen, daß seinem König solche vortreffliche Stücke in seiner Bibliothec fehleten.

[(p. 1) It is believed, however, that Your Most Serene Highnesses are still thinking of providing this world-famous library either with a properly prepared synagogue or at least with the most useful and most important pieces (as the ס״ תורה Sepher Torah, הפטרות haftarot, שם המפורש Shem Hamephorasch and מגלות אסתר Megillot Esther etc.). For this reason I have wished to make my low person known to [p. 2] Your Reverend Magnificant. I have already built the ‘Mayer’s Synagogue’ and two years ago, within a year, I produced the abovementioned necessary pieces for the […] Leipzig City Council with a particular delicacy – as the enclosed samples show – of which the French ambassador, who recently passed through here and in Warsaw, himself had to confess that his king lacked such excellent pieces in his library.]

It appears that Wallich extended to Cyprian an offer to both set up a synagogue for the library of the sovereign of Saxe-Gotha-Altenburg, designated for teaching purposes in the style of the ‘Mayerian Synagogue,’ and to provide it with appropriate ritual texts. Wallich enclosed samples of the Sefer Torah and the haftarot with his letter so as to convince Cyprian and – through him – the sovereign of his expertise in the art of Jewish writing. Wallich also added a few details about his career to this “letter of application,” which should not be withheld here:

[3] Meine gringe Person anlanget bin ich in Worms von reichen Jüdischen Eltern gebohren u. habe unter dem (unter den Juden gewesenen berühmten (רב Rabh) Rabbi Ahron Darschon das Rabbnische Studirt. Und weillen ich lust zu Schreiberey hatte, hat mein (gottgebe Seelig) verstorbenen Vatter das Sophroth (סופרות) Schreibkunst mich verlernert lassen u. bin ein Examinirter berühmter (סופר) Schreiber geworden, auch viermahl das Thora, eben so viel Haphtaroth u. viele Mesusoth, Kameoth, Tephillin u. ein Scheide Brieff unten Juden gantz Koscher geschrieben. (Leipzig, 29. August 1726)

[(3) As for my minor person: I was born in Worms of rich Jewish parents and studied rabbinics under the famous (רב Rabh) Rabbi Ahron Darschon. And because I had a desire to write, my deceased father (God rest his soul) taught me the art of writing and I became an examinated famous (סופר) scribe, also writing the Torah four times, as many haftarot and many mezuzot, Kameoth, tefillin, and a get, which is kosher among Jews.
(Leipzig, 29 August 1726)]

The two rather coincidental finds from our project week in Gotha lead deep into Jewish-German relations at the beginning of the 18th century and certainly merit closer examination.

Briefe an Ernst Salomon Cyprian, Bd.9, 1717

Made in Twilight: Strigae and Werewolves in Eleazar of Worms’s Sefer Tagin

Dana Eichhorst

In medieval Europe, demons, shapeshifting and vampire-like creatures were part of both Christian and Jewish imaginary worlds and found their way into many legends and tales. An invaluable historical source for medieval Ashkenaz is the Sefer Hasidim from the circle of the Haside Ashkenaz.

In this Hebrew book we read not only about demons, ghosts, and marvellous creatures but also about so-called shapeshifters. In one passage of the Sefer Hasidim, three different types of creatures are mentioned: Werewolves, Strigae and Mares.[1] However, neither werewolf nor Mare are at the centre of the story, but so-called Strigae.[2] This is the specific name given to women who are said to be able to change their shape. The description most frequently found in the Ashkenazi sources is that they morph into a cat, but there are also descriptions in which they are described as blood-drinking creatures reminiscent of vampires. Sefer Hasidim contains an exemplary passage in which the fate of such a woman is vividly described. This short text can undoubtedly be described as narrative, but the sentence that introduces the story is also significant, as it says that Striga, Mare, and werewolf, who can change their shape, were created in the twilight.[3]

The motif of monsters and demons, werewolves, fairies, and other wondrous creatures in medieval sources, both Jewish and Christian, could not simply be rationalized away in the research of the nineteenth and following centuries. So, such ideas were usually plainly and simplistically declared to be superstition. And the origin of those Ashkenazi superstitious delusions that emerged in the 12th and 13th centuries were traced back to the Christian belief in devils and witches as they could not be genuinely Jewish.[4]

The various ways in which fabulous creatures are contextualized and perceived, as revealed in the medieval Hebrew sources themselves, are only starting to find a resonance in research. There is now a growing awareness that marvellous monsters and demons in medieval Ashkenaz were not only the subject of eerie stories, but also of theological considerations.[5]

In the Sefer Tagin, attributed to the authorship of Eleazar of Worms, we find a significant passage that can be related to the one in Sefer Hasidim. However, werewolves and Strigae are not protagonists of a narration in the Sefer Tagin.

Unlike the work of the same name, this Sefer Tagin by Eleazar is not a scribal manual. But it is also not a systematic treatise on the tagin. In simplified terms, the text can rather be described as a kind of speculative-esoteric exegesis on various aspects of Ma’aseh Bereshit and Ma’aseh Merkavah in which the tagin play a special role. This is also the case in said passage of the treatise, which deals with a special interpretation of Genesis 2:2[6] and the adornment of the third letter of the verse’s first word waikhal with tagin.

With reference to Pirqe de Rabbi Eliezer 19:1[7], the author concludes that God did not complete his work in its entirety on the seventh day. For there was one thing in his work that had not yet been completed, namely demons. In their incorporeality, demons resemble women who turn into cats and kill children, for example, or men who turn into wolves and devour people. The former are called Strigae (שטרייא), the latter werewolves (וַורְווֹלְף). Just like demons, those humans who shape-shift into wolves, cats, or other creatures were not actually created, but were brought forth in the twilight.

Mares (מריאים) are also mentioned in this context, but according to the author they differ from demons in that they have a body and a soul. As in Sefer Hasidim, Striga, werewolf and Mare are also mentioned in Sefer Tagin, and it is explicitly said of Striga and werewolf that they were created in the twilight – just like demons.[8] However, the passage differs significantly from that in Sefer Hasidim. In the context of an exegesis of Genesis 2:2, the author of the Sefer Tagin takes up the rabbinic exegetical tradition about the ten things that are said to have been created on the evening of the Sabbath at twilight. He follows the idea that demons also belong to this group, to which he adds the group of shapeshifters mentioned above.

A key part of this specific reading of the Bible verse is the interpretation of the letters and the tagin. But what role do the tagin actually play here? In some, but not all, surviving versions of the scribal manual Sefer Tagin, it is instructed that the letter kaph in the word waikhal is to be embellished with two tagin. Eleazar’s remarks can therefore be understood as an attempt to explain the scribal instruction, whereby, according to him, the tagin are just as important as the letters for an understanding of the Holy Scriptures. This is evident from the context of said passage, as the exegesis of Genesis 2:2 is preceded by an interpretation of Isaiah 44:7[9]. In it, we read, among other things, that the letters and the tagin foretell what will be in the future and that anyone who renders a righteous decision in truth will be called Elohim – as if he were a partner in the act of creation.[10] With regard to the interpretation of the biblical passage from Isaiah, the author also explains the meaning of the tagin in the word Elohim. According to him, the three tagin on the letter he refer to the fact that man cannot see demons (shedim), demons in turn cannot see angels, and the angels cannot see the Holy One, blessed be He.[11]

Like the mouth of the earth, the manna in the desert, the shape of the alphabet, etc., demons, werewolves and Strigae do not exist before a certain point in time, which is determined for them by God’s decree, and therefore they too are deemed by the author to be creatures of the twilight.

In view of Eleazar’s account, I am inclined to argue that holding demons, werewolves and Strigae to be true is not simply the result of superstition, but that they are understood as part of divine creation and the cosmic order. The notion that demons are just as much a part of a divine order is also found in Eleazar’s main speculative work Sode Razayya, where it says at one point that God will judge[12] four times: over angels, humans, demons (shedim), and all living beings.[13]

In the Sefer Tagin, Striga and werewolf are part of an original exegesis of the Genesis verse, which the author links to the tagin tradition with which he was familiar. In doing so, he links the interpretation of one verse with that of another, while also taking the tagin into account. The text passage not only sheds light on Eleazar’s understanding of the tagin in the respective Bible verses, but also on medieval understandings of such wondrous beings that may seem incomprehensible to us today, but which at the time were the subject of legitimate considerations inter alia about corporeality, the soul, and the workings and becoming in the divine order of creation.

[1] Cf. MS Parma H 3280, § 1465 and Bologna printed edition of 1538, § 464.

[2] Cf. also MS Parma H 3280, §§ 1466-1467 and Bologna printed edition of 1538, §§ 465-467. In general, see Daniel Ogden, The Strix-Witch (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2021).

[3] MS Parma H 3280, § 1465: יש נשים שקורין להם {שטר} שטירייש^ אותן מַרְש וולְף אותן נבראו בין השמשות שיעשו דבר {וישתת} וישתנו בברייתן. Quoted from the Princeton University Sefer Hasidim Database: https://etc.princeton.edu/sefer_hasidim/index.php.

[4] See, for instance, Moritz Güdemann, Geschichte des Erziehungswesens und der Cultur der abendländischen Juden während des Mittelalters und der neueren Zeit, vol 1: Von der Begründung der jüdischen Wissenschaft in diesen Ländern bis zur Vertreibung der Juden aus Frankreich (X.-XIV. Jahrhundert), (Wien: A. Hölder, 1880), esp. p. 217.

[5] See, especially, David I. Shyovitz, ‘Christian and Jews in the Twelfth-Century Werewolf Renaissance’, in: Journal of the History of Ideas, vol. 75, no. 4 (Oct. 2014), pp. 521-543. On demons in the medieval Hebrew narrative, see especially the research of Dudu Rotman.

[6] “And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made.”; ויכל אלהים ביום השביעי מלאכתו אשר עשה וישבת ביום השביעי מכל־מלאכתו אשר עשה.

[7] According to the editio princeps, 1544: “Ten things were created (on the eve of the Sabbath) in the twilight (namely): the mouth of the earth; the mouth of the well; the mouth of the ass; the rainbow; the Manna; the Shamir; the shape of the alphabet; the writing and the tables (of the law); and the ram of Abraham. (Some sages say: the destroying spirits also, and the sepulchre of Moses, and the ram of Isaac; and other sages say: the tongs also.).”

[8] Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Opp. 540, fol. 254r: כאשה שנהפכת למה שהיא חפצה כגון לחתולה ממיתה ילדים ואע”פ ופעמים לגדולים ונקראת שטרייא וכן האיש שנהפוך לזאב ואוכל בני אדם אילו מזיקין נבראו בערב שבת בין השמשות וזהו שקורין וַורְווֹלְף שבני אדם משתנין לחיה לזאב ולחתול ולא נבראו ממש אלא נגזר בין השמשות שיהא כך ולא היה קודם לכן כך כגון פי הארץ לא היה פה שם אלא שנגזר וכן פי הבאר לפי שעה כשנתפללו הגר וישמעאל כך בפרקי ר‘ אליעזר.   

[9] “Who is like me? Who will call, and will declare it, and set it in order for me, since I established the ancient people? Let them declare the things that are coming, and that will happen”; ומי־כמוני יקרא ויגידה ויערכה לי משומי עם־עולם ואתיות ואשר תבאנה יגידו למו. In a piyyut commentary from medieval Ashkenaz we find an interesting parallel, see the edition of a commentary contained in MS Parma 6555, published by Elisabeth Hollender, Piyyut Commentary in Medieval Ashkenaz, p. 75*: להעמית: אם יסגלו מצות ומעשים טובים יהיו עמיתי כמוני. מי רוצה להיות כמוני. יקרא קריאה ויגידיה אגדה ויערכיה סדרים. מי שומי עם עולם. בעבור זה העולם עומד. ואותיות מי שהוא יודע לצרף האותיות אשר תבואנה שעתיד הקב”ה לגלות לו סוד.

[10] This passage is similar to another passage in Eleazar’s Sefer Tagin that deals with sorcery and magic, MS Opp. 540, fol. 240r: “God made the tagin as well as all of those who acknowledge and appreciate His creation His partners.” (וכל מי שמוציא דין לאמיתו לאור כאילו היה שותף עמו במעשה בראשית ועל כן עשה תגין עליהם כאילו הם עמו שותפין).

[11] See a similar passage in Eleazar of Worms’s Sode Razayya: The demons (shedim) do not know where the angels dwell, while the angels and seraphim do not know where the shekhina and the kavod reside, and with regard to humankind we are told continually that the secrets of the Godhead and the divine name have only been revealed to the righteous and the God-fearing. Cf. BL, MS Add 27199, fols 279v-280r.

[12] Cf. Mishna Rosh ha-Shana 1:2.

[13] Cf. BL, MS Add 27199, fol. 362v.

The First of its Kind: A Retrospective on Our Online Workshop (6-8 Nov 2023): Origin, History, and Interpretation of the Tagin and Otiyyot Meshunnot for Writing the STaM

Annett Martini & Dana Eichhorst

A paleographic particularity of the Jewish scribal tradition is that some letters of the strongly standardised square script featured within Torah scrolls are adorned with crownlets (tagin) or written in an unusual way (otiyyot meshunnot). Not the focus of academic discourse of the past, these decorations took the centre stage of our workshop Origin, History, and Interpretation of the Tagin and Otiyyot Meshunnot for Writing the STaM.

The Talmud specifies the seven letters gimel, zayin, tet, ayin, nun, tsade, and shin (ShaʿAṬNeZ GeṢ) for this uncommon letter ornamentation. Yet, mediaeval written testimonies from the time of the 12th to the 15th centuries (and some later testimonies of this phenomenon within the Megillot) present numerous exceptions to this antique limit and a remarkable wealth of different ornaments. Legal scholars from different regions saw in the unusual curlicues, arcs, little flags, and dashes a threat posed to the authentic gestalt of a Sefer Torah, and they urged for uniformity. However, even the standard work Sefer ha-tagin (10th/11th c.), which was widely received in scribe circles and provided copyists with a precise listing of words and letters for such modifications, could not curb the enthusiasm for these letter ornamentations.

Parallel to this uncommon writing practice, an exegetical tradition began to develop by which these crownlets and unusually written letters, and also the standardised letterforms were interpreted from rabbinic-ethical, mystical, and philosophical perspectives.

The goal of our workshop, which took place online from Nov 6-8, 2023, was to discuss the phenomenon of the tagin and otiyyot meshunnot for writing the STaM from two perspectives.

First, as a paleographic tradition that has developed different regional characteristics over time. Manuscript evidence of halakhic treatises on the correct visual appearance of these signs testify to a lively debate on the forms of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot. The authors or copyists of these writings in different times and regions gave manyfold examples which reveal the enormous richness of shapes. Moreover, the artefacts themselves – scrolls and even codices, dating from the Middle Ages and modern times (here especially the Megillot) – surprise with a great wealth of variants. The workshop aimed to provide an opportunity to present material witnesses, new insights into the origin of tagin, and various sources for describing the shape of the unusual letters. 

Second, as a subject of exegesis: Research has almost completely neglected the numerous exegetical approaches towards the forms of the tagin and otiyyot meshunnot that flourished especially in the Middle Ages, although this literature provides deep insight into both the intellectual history and the cultural memory of Diaspora Jewry. The workshop opened up space for rabbinic, mystical, philosophical, and educational conceptions regarding these special letters to determine which role they played on a metaphysical level.

When we started planning our workshop, we assumed that we would gather together a handful of colleagues interested in this paleographic peculiarity of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot. The overwhelming response to our Call for Papers, published more as a formality than anything else, though, surprised us: Scholars from around the world dedicate themselves to these special letters. Reading their abstracts, which approach the topic of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot from many different perspectives, was an exciting activity, as was putting together an incredibly rich and diverse programme. This workshop presented the very first opportunity for scholars of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot to come together, share and discuss their research. 

Day One

The first presenter to start was Robert VanHoff. In his lecture, Robert dealt with an incredibly interesting phenomenon of the Masoretic tradition, namely the different visual representations of the divine name in the works of the Tiberian scribes Ahron ben Asher and Ephraim ben Buya’ah. There is no doubt that the divine name already received special attention in the ancient Jewish scribal tradition, as reflected in distinctive markings. This is all the more interesting as there are also indications in mediaeval Torah scroll witnesses of a practice of writing the tetragrammaton that deviates from the normal scribal flow.

To shed light on the phenomenon of letter decorations in the Middle Ages, Mark Farnadi Jerusálmi took us further back in time. He posits that letter shapes found in mosaic inscriptions in Byzantine synagogues provide insight into the development from ziyyunim to the mediaeval tagin (crowns). He, therefore, compared the ShaʿAṬNeZ GeṢ group from ancient mosaics with the shape of letters from manuscripts in the classical sense, written on parchment, and investigated the evolution of these graphic elements. 

Marc Michaels provided insights into his research on various textual witnesses of the scribal manual Sefer Tagin, which is so important for both scribes and researchers dealing with the phenomenon of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot. In his lecture, he was able to identify lines of tradition that differ from one another in terms of content but also in the structural arrangement of the material.

Following these two presentations, the legitimate question arose as to whether and how tagin differ from ziyyunin. This question, in turn, led to the justified demand for a glossary, which will now be prepared in collaboration with the participants of the workshop.

Mordechai Weintraub added another perspective on the Sefer Tagin and posed the intriguing question of the extent to which the determination of the position and form of the tagin and otiyyot meshunnot was guided by exegetical considerations. This question was a recurring theme throughout the workshop, in fact, and was answered by the speakers in different ways.

Jen Taylor Friedman illustrated how helpful a quantitative analysis of mediaeval sources can be. The comparative analysis of the manuscripts she examined and annotated made clear that scribes in Ashkenaz in particular tended to modify the letters in creative ways. In so doing, they not only deviated markedly from the standards of the scribal manual Sefer Tagin, but also did not seem to be particular about following a “correct” or standardised way of writing the Torah. According to her, these strikingly strong deviations could be due to specific exegetical approaches to interpreting the tagin.

Mauro Perani brought the first of three wonderful workshop days to a close with his lecture, in which he offered a comprehensive overview of the history of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot both as a palaeographical phenomenon in Torah scrolls and as a subject of exegetical consideration. Using the famous Bologna scroll, whose “rediscovery” and research are to his credit, as an example, he illustrated the extent to which mediaeval scrolls differ from the later canonised system, according to which only the seven letters ShaʿAṬNeZ GeṢ ought to be decorated with tagin. At the same time, only eighty per cent of the tagin in the Bologna scroll correspond to the instructions of the Sefer Tagin, prompting one to ask how principle (or none at all) was followed when adding the remaining twenty per cent.

Day Two

Sholom Eisenstat shared with us his love and curiosity about the so-called inverted nun in Numbers 10:35-36 and introduced us to the evolution of this scribal phenomenon. In addition to Greek editorial or diacritical signs as possible precursors or parallel phenomena, he also considered the extensive accompanying discussion about the design and position of this palaeographic anomaly in rabbinic literature.

The Biblioteca Palatina in Parma holds a manuscript containing a relatively short text entitled Kitrei Otiyyot Tefillin, which is attributed to Rabbi Yehuda he-Hasid. In her lecture, Emese Kozma traced the history of this text, introduced its content and emphasised its halakhic character. Through philological analysis of this and other texts, she not only established references to other writings from the circle of the Haside Ashkenaz, but also contextualised it within this Jewish literary tradition.

While Emese Kozma considered the text she analysed not to be a mystical treatise on the tagin, Dana Eichhorst showed in her lecture on the Sefer Tagin that is attributed to Eleazar of Worms that the tagin in this mediaeval work are certainly interpreted in a speculative kabbalistic way. Through a comparative textual analysis, for which she inter alia used Eleazar’s main speculative work, Sode Razayya, she was able to demonstrate that a provenance in the circle of the Haside Ashkenaz is probable and that Eleazar’s interpretation of the tagin must also be read against the background of his understanding of the decisive role of the Hebrew letters as divine means of creation.

Gabriel Slamovits focussed on orthographic anomalies using the example of the majuscule letter Bet and the minuscule letter He, as they are displayed in Torah scrolls at the respective beginning of both of the biblical creation accounts. He interpreted this palaeographic phenomenon based on contemporary readings of the two biblical accounts of creation, offering an original modern exegesis of these letterforms.

By providing and describing a variety of different mediaeval source texts, Yosef Ginsberg pointed out an existing gap in research: The interpretation and reflection of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot in kabbalistic texts. Thereby, he also showed to what extent the manual Sefer Tagin reverberates in the kabbalistic sources he presented.

Anne May Dallendörfer presented her research on the important late mediaeval scribal handbook Barukh she-amar. In addition to the complicated history of the text, she showed what insights we can gain from the text about the problems scribes faced and about the solutions they found.

Day Three

As curator at the Museum of the Bible, Jesse Abelman provided a special insight into a mediaeval Torah scroll of the museum’s collection. The changes and corrections made in the scroll affecting tagin and otiyyot meshunnot allow us to reconstruct the scroll’s unique textual history. The corrections found in this scroll, however, also reflect prevailing norms of scribes in dealing with tagin and otiyyot meshunnot.

Because the use of decorative elements and special letters in Torah scrolls is ultimately subject to constant change, Abraham Marmorstein explained how the halakhic authorities dealt with letter forms and how the legal regulations were justified in each case.

The lectures by Jonathan Homrighausen and Dagmara Budzioch were dedicated to the tagin and otiyyot meshunnot in Esther scrolls. Jonathan presented the special case of the emphasised and enlarged Waw in the name Vaizatha and how this palaeographical peculiarity in the Book of Esther was discussed by rabbinical scholars in various ways.

Based on hundreds of examined manuscripts, Dagmara demonstrated that tagin and otiyyot meshunnot play, indeed, an important role in Esther scrolls as well. Thus, alongside Torah scrolls, they constitute an object of research in their own right within the study of the history of writing sacred texts.

The Book of Esther was also the starting point for Emmanuel Bloch’s lecture. Unlike Jonathan’s lecture, the focus here was not on the enlarged letters, but on the small letters in chapter 9 and how their numerical value of 707 is interpreted in some orthodox Jewish circles under consideration of the biblical account as prophetic code of sorts, connecting the story of Esther’s triumph to the Nuremberg trials in the Jewish year 5707.

Deborah B. Thompson’s lecture, which was the final one in our three-day online workshop, focussed on another important textual source for the study of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot, namely tefillin. In her presentation, Deborah looked specifically at those tefillin scrolls that were offered for sale on online marketplaces and traded on these platforms as objects of early modern Hasidism. A special feature of these offered tefillin scrolls is the presence of otiyyot meshunnot. Deborah argued that the question of whether the early modern Hasidic tradition preserved a particular scribal practice needs to be further explored.

Our workshop provided a venue and forum for the first international gathering of a scholarly community explicitly concerned with the subject of tagin and otiyyot meshunnot and Jewish writing practice. The many different presentations on a wide range of aspects relating to the palaeographical as well as the religious, cultural, and intellectual-historical dimensions of tagin, otiyyot meshunnot, and the writing practice of Jewish sacred texts provided many insights into ancient, mediaeval, and modern scribal traditions. At the same time, it became clear that many research questions on these complex topics are yet to be explored and resolved. We intend to publish an anthology based on the further research of our presenters. This collection of essays will be the first comprehensive and interdisciplinary publication on the subject (year of expected publication 2025), bridging at least some research gaps, clarifying open questions, and posing new ones.

ToRoll: New encounters, discussions and connections at the EAJS Congress 2023

Katharina Hadassah Wendl

This July, our team had the chance to present our research project to the scholarly community during the 12th Congress of the European Association of Jewish Studies that took place at the Goethe University of Frankfurt am Main. Between July 16th and 20th, more than 700 Jewish Studies scholars from around the world came together to share and discuss new research findings.

Our panel, “New Perspectives on the Production and Interpretation of a Ritually Pure Torah Scroll” (Tuesday, 18th of July) attracted a diverse group of Jewish Studies researchers, scribes and material scientists. Chaired by researcher and scribe Mark Farnadi-Jerusálmi from the École Pratique des Hautes Études in Paris, our presentations raised many fascinating questions and discussions. We presented our research interests and methods as well as preliminary findings about scribal literature from the Middle Ages until the 19th century and exegetical interpretations of Tagin and Otiyyot Meshunnot. Participants learnt about our editorial work which is being enriched by tools developed within Digital Humanities. 

Starting from the Middle Ages and then moving to the 19th century, Anne May Dallendörfer commenced the panel with a presentation on the editorial considerations that went into the various manuscripts and printed editions of Barukh SheAmar, a medieval scribal guide attributed to R. Samson ben Eliezer. Next, Annett Martini delved into the mystical, multi-dimensional interpretations of letters in Sefer Alpha Beta by R. Jom Tov Lipman. Dana Eichhorst then led the attendants of our panel on an investigative tour through the manuscripts of a text called Sefer Tagin that is commonly attributed to Eleazar of Worms and showed parallels between this Sefer Tagin and R. Eleazar’s other speculative writings. Lastly, Katharina Hadassah Wendl discussed pedagogical intentions in Keset HaSofer in light of new approaches to conveying knowledge and studying Jewish tradition in the 19th century. Participants were interested in hearing more about the interpretation of scribal traditions ranging from mystical elaborations on the meanings of the letter Aleph to the increasingly stringent application of scribal laws over time.

In addition to our panel on scribal literature, our colleague Zina Cohen also presented research findings about the composition of inks in medieval Torah scrolls. This research within the field of material science is also part of the interdisciplinary project “ToRoll: Materialized Holiness.” Anne May Dallendörfer and Katharina Hadassah Wendl also presented their research topics as part of the EAJS Emerge sessions for PhD candidates. Thomas Kollatz from the Academy of Sciences in Mainz, another project partner of “ToRoll: Materialized Holiness,” offered introductory and more advanced sessions on using digital research tools such as TEI and OxYgen as part of the Digital Jewish Studies Workshops. These took place in the early hours of the EAJS conference. During the sessions, Thomas Kollatz showed other researchers how our team uses Digital Humanities research tools. He was also so kind to answer our more specific queries on editing and analysing Jewish scribal literature via TEI and OxYgen. One evening, we also enjoyed participating in an impromptu workshop on how to be a scribe by our chair Mark Farnadi-Jerusálmi. Writing on klaf using feathers and ink, we made our more or less successful attempts at Safrut.

The 12th EAJS congress in Frankfurt am Main allowed us to meet former and new colleagues, discuss our research with others and learn about other projects within the field of Jewish Digital Humanities. During and in between panels, we also had fascinating conversations with researchers and scholars who we will be hosting in November for our online workshop on the Origin, History, & Interpretation of Tagin and Otiyyot Meshunnot for Writing the STaM. Looking forward to seeing you there!

The Jewish scribe: a guardian of secret knowledge

Anne May Dallendörfer

Scribes can generally be considered artists and craftsmen. In contexts like the Jewish one, they are first and foremost preservers of holy texts and keepers of tradition. They are thus assigned a social role of great importance and their work is subject to strict rules with regards to form and ritual purity. At times, while preserving a fixed text and the tradition which depends on it, the scribe simultaneously gains access to a knowledge that is otherwise hidden from the other community members. He thus acts as a keeper of the community’s tradition at large but also as a guardian of a secret knowledge kept and preserved by only a few.

We find one such portrayal of the scribe in the 13th century Jewish scribal manual “Barukh she-amar” which has been attributed to the scribe R. Samson ben Eliezer.[1] In this manual, R. Samson sets out to rectify many of his fellow scribes’ mistakes and negligence concerning the writing of STaM (Sefer tora, Tefillin and Mezuzot). He thereby deals extensively with the manufacture of kosher parchment and the rules for writing. One aspect of these rules is the correct form of the Hebrew letters. It is here that the author discloses that he is in possession of some hidden knowledge, as he reveals the metaphysical meaning behind the letter shapes. Concerning this latter part, however, he seems hesitant to reveal too much as these are the secret aspects of his scribal knowledge. He even calls himself a “gossip” fearing he might disclose too much. Here is an excerpt from his writing:

And here I am, “A gossip goes about telling secrets” (Proverbs 11:13) with a little allusion for those who understand in accordance with my limited understanding. Although in my sins I am not worthy to allude to these great secrets which even hinting at [the fact] that I have a little knowledge [of them] is forbidden to me.

Perhaps the prohibition to share these “great secrets” hidden in the letter shapes is just a rhetorical device to give more weight and a sense of importance to his ensuing words. Nonetheless, throughout Rabbi Samson’s writing, one senses an underlying fear that this knowledge might fall into the wrong hands, much of which “was not given to be written.”

Though he finds himself unworthy to share these great secrets, he nonetheless does so, albeit in a quite enigmatic way:

For the dalet points out that the ‘ayin is kneset Israel and the oral Tora, the bride mentioned in Song of Songs, and she is Bakol the daughter of Abraham our father, and she is the kingdom of the house of David, and this dalet which is in eḥad is a thick one. And the vav which is on top of [the dalet] hints that the tav is the six ends [of the world] and a looking glass, it is the bundle of life, the tree of life, and the written Tora, and the two tagin which are on the vav hint at Bina and Ḥokhma the supreme, preceding and splendid, until Ein Sof.

Whatever these symbols hidden in the shape of the letters dalet and vav might mean, R. Samson ends with the comment:

And our rabbis, blessed be their memory, and the learned will understand. And the Lord, may He be blessed, revealed to me wonders from His Tora because of His great name.

It seems clear that Rabbi Samson believed that in his profession as a scribe he had witnessed “wonders” from the Tora through which he had received knowledge of the great secrets of God. In their form and shape, the Hebrew letters allude to symbols whose meaning is not self-explanatory at first sight. It is down to the scribe to learn, preserve and pass on this knowledge – to those who understand. Besides continuing the textual tradition, in learning the correct shape of the Hebrew letters the scribe acts as a preserver of a secret knowledge about God which is otherwise hidden from the uninitiated.

[1] It has been subject to debate whether R. Samson really was the author or whether certain excerpts can be attributed to others. The themes explored in the passage mentioned here have also been connected with his student Yom Tov Lipmann.

A look at Torah scrolls in the Tanakh

Katharina Hadassah Wendl

The main objective of “ToRoll: Materialized Holiness” is to research the codicological, theological, and sociological phenomenon of Jewish scribal culture in the Diaspora. But what does the Torah itself say about scrolls?

In our project, we explore the material aspects of medieval Torah scrolls and research interpretative approaches to Tagin and Ottiyot Meshunnot, letters in Torah scrolls with decorative features. We delve into halakhic aspects of writing Jewish ritual texts, are interested in the manuscript traditions and in pedagogical features of scribal manuals. Although we do not directly research the meaning and significance of Torah scrolls in the Tanakh itself, it is crucial to understand how the Torah speaks about scrolls. The Tanakh is the basis for early rabbinic texts that discuss how to make Torah scrolls and what meaning Tagin and Ottiyot Meshunnot have. Now, where do scrolls feature in Tanakh? The following, albeit selective, exploration of verses and narratives featuring scrolls shows that ritual scrolls shall strengthen the Jewish people’s capacity to remember and encourage repentance.

Moshe was the one who brought down the Torah from Heaven, Jewish tradition tells us. It is not mentioned in the biblical account, though, that he received a physical scroll (e.g. Ex. 18-19, 24, 34, Deut. 4, 9, 10). In other instances, it is Moshe himself who writes down laws conveyed to him by God, e.g. in Ex. 24:4, Ex. 34:28 and Deut. 31:9. Finally, Moshe is commanded to write down “this song” in Deuteronomy 31:19, which he promptly fulfils in Deuteronomy 31:22, containing at least the section Haazinu (Deut 32:1-52). Halakhists later interpreted this verse as referring to the commandment for every Jew to write their own Torah scroll.[1]

There are also other narratives about scrolls and their writing in the Tanakh. These narratives employ the words ספר תורה, ספר, or מגילה to describe different kinds of scrolls and highlight their significance for remembrance and repentance. In Exodus 13:11-16, God commands the Jewish people to have “signs on your hands and between your eyes” so that they will remember that God redeemed them from Egypt. These signs are Tefillin, rabbinic literature explains, that shall be affixed on one’s arm and between one’s eyes.[2] The commandment to blot out the memory of Amalek is also to be written in a book (Ex 17:14). In a similar vein, the salvation of the Jews instigated by Esther and Mordechai is memorialised in a scroll (Esther 9:29-32), serving as a witness for future generations.

Scrolls in Tanakh are also media of repentance. In 2 Ki 22:1-20, the righteous king Yoshiyahu strengthens the Jewish people’s adherence to the commandments upon discovering a lost scroll of God’s laws in the Temple. His son Yehoyakim, though, behaved displeasingly in God’s eyes. In Yirmiyahu 36, Baruch ben Neriah, a professional scribe, writes prophetic words of rebuke on a scroll using דיו (diyo – ink; Jer 36:18, the same word is used nowadays for ink used to write ritual texts), and presents them to the king’s officials. Unwilling to believe what is written in the scroll, the king burns it. This scroll could have been a catalyst of repentance, but King Yehoyakim, unlike King Yoshiyahu, did not grasp such an opportunity; he spurned it.

Writing, though, can be an expression of joy as well. Ps. 40:8 uses the scroll as a metaphor and portrays it as a source of joy. This scroll recounts times when God came to save the Jewish people. The speaker will bring it to proclaim God’s righteousness. In Ps 45:2, the speaker’s tongue that is praising God is compared to the pen of an expert scribe (עֵט סוֹפֵר מָהִיר). This phrase – סוֹפֵר מָהִיר – is also used to describe Ezra in Ez 7:6.

This brief exploration of verses and narratives featuring scrolls shows that ritual scrolls and their messages shall strengthen the Jewish people’s capacity to remember key events of the past in which God intervened on their behalf. Scrolls are signs and symbols of the commandments that Jews were instructed to fulfil in response to God’s direct communication. Scrolls also serve as media for repentance. The words written on them, be they laws, praises, lamentations, or curses, shall encourage the Jewish people to reflect on and fulfil their covenantal obligation. Finally, the joy of having received the Torah and all its commandments is celebrated on Simchat Torah, a festival centring around completing and starting the yearly reading of the Torah, which is accompanied by dance and song.

The potential of scrolls for remembrance, repentance and joy are central to Jewish belief and appear frequently in the Tanakh. Practical and halachic aspects of how scrolls are written, though,  do not feature prominently in the Tanakh and are, at best, mentioned in passing. The commandments to write a Torah scroll, to have them as signs on one’s arms and between one’s eyes (Tefillin) and to write down the story of Purim are all mentioned in the Tanakh, but are left to later authorities to discuss and elaborate on how they are to be carried out.

[1] Sefer HaChinuch 613; Mishneh Torah, Positive Mitzvot 17; Mishneh Torah, Tefillin, Mezuzah and the Torah Scroll 7:1; Sefer HaMitzvot, Positive Commandments 18:1; Sefer Mitzvot Gadol, Positive Commandments 24:1; Sefer Mitzvot Katan 155:1-2; Tur, Yoreh Deah 270.

[2] bSan 4b; bMen 34b; bMen 36b; Rashi and Ramban on Exodus 13:16.

Writing the Names of God from the Perspective of the Haside Ashkenaz

Annett Martini

The authors of Sefer Hasidim turned with particular diligence to what is probably the most delicate subject of scribal literature, namely, the writing of the names of God in Torah scrolls. Paramount in the Hasidic context is the high quality of the writing materials, i.e., of the inks as they concern the names of God, and also the duty of the scribes to avoid disturbing in any way with their writing habits the notion of the absolute perfection of the name. God’s name must not exhibit any holes in its immediate surroundings or even be perforated itself. In the unfortunate case of a necessary correction, “approach not where the name is, so as not to pierce the name [with the needle], but there, where the parchment is unwritten.” A particular meticulousness in the script also affects to a certain degree the words before and after the names of God:

„A sofer who has written the name of God but without rendering it readable, should again go over it with the qulmus so that the letters of the word become readable. However, if he has already begun to write the name of God and not yet completed [it], he must not suspend [work on] the letters of the name in order to mend another word.“

(SH Ms Parma 3280 H, §715)

Yet it is not only the material, but also the flow of the writing act itself that does not tolerate absences or interruptions. The Sefer Hasidim takes up the image of the scribe known from ancient scribal literature, where a king is patiently waiting to be greeted by the sofer who is himself in this moment recording the name of the heavenly king on the scroll. In such a precarious moment, the scribe must not look up when one less than him enters the writing space and addresses him.

If he is not permitted to respond to the needs of others, how much more important is it then that the scribe also represses his own needs such as the urge to spit.

„When a sofer is writing the name of God, he may not spit as long as he is not finished, but only when he has written everything.“

(SH Ms Parma 3280 H, §719)

Ultimately, the Sefer Hasidim provides the scribe with solutions in the event that a name has been inadvertently misspelled.

One exceptionally interesting writing instruction, which clearly goes beyond the scope of the rabbinic guidelines, is found in the following paragraph:

„It is written [Ex 39,30]: [And they made the plate of the holy crown of pure gold,] and wrote upon it a writing, like to the engravings of a signet, HOLINESS TO THE LORD [יהוה]. [The employed plural] and they wrote teaches that the name should be written in the presence of a greater number of people meaning ten persons. Scripture says [Lev. 22,32]: [Neither shall ye profane my holy name;] but I will be hallowed among the children of Israel: [I am the LORD who hallows you.] Thus, the rishonim, when a Sefer Torah was written, wanted the names to be written by ten righteous. There are some who say: ‘It is necessary to write [the name of God] in the presence of a quorum as a reminder that it was written for the sake of [the divine name]. For if it was not written for the sake of [the name] [the scroll] should be stored in a genizah. This holds true for every single letter.“

(SH Ms Parma 3280 H, §1762)

This passage is remarkable because its author calls for bearing witness to the ritual sanctification of God’s name in the writing of a Sefer Torah. A group of ten “righteous people” should gather in the writing space for the transcription of each name, by which the tetragram JHWH alone is probably meant, to ensure the consecration of the name. The “ten righteous” awaken associations with the story of Sodom, which could have been saved by the presence of only ten righteous souls. It is said of the righteous (zaddiq), of whom there are but few in each generation, that they maintain an impeccable way of life and an intimate relationship with God. Their presence when God’s name is written not only guarantees the holiness of this moment, in which God represented by His name enters the world, but it also refers to the grace of God, who ensures through these righteous the continued existence of the world. 

We do not know to what extent this procedure was actually put into practice. In the course of our project work, however, a growing number of medieval artifacts from the Ashkenazic region has been encountered that attest to a particular performative effort in writing the names of God. Thus, one finds not only special markings of the tetragram, but also names of God obviously added later to the Torah scrolls, standing out from the rest of the text by a different ink color or by letter size and shape.

Furthermore, studies of some surviving artifacts give reason to believe that the Hasidim also maintained their own tradition of placing tagin and otiyyot meshunnot as described in the relevant treatises on the subject within Hasidic circles. These „suspected cases“ will be further investigated in the coming months and – hopefully – be presented and described in a detailed publication soon.

Zwischen Mosel, Weinhängen und wechselvoller Geschichte

Teilnahme an der DHd 2023 Open Humanities Open Culture

Dana Eichhorst

Nach Trier führen nicht nur die ältesten Spuren römischer Geschichte, sondern auch die Anfänge der universitären Ausbildung in den Digital Humanities in Deutschland. Vom 13. bis 17. März fand die 9. Jahrestagung des Verbandes der „Digital Humanities im deutschsprachigen Raum“ an den Universitäten Trier und Luxemburg so einen gebührenden Austragungsort. Unser Projekt blickte zu diesem Zeitpunkt seinem 1. Jahrestag entgegen und die Teilnahme an der deutschlandweit größten Fachtagung der Digital Humanities bot erstmalig Gelegenheit das Projekt „Materialisierte Heiligkeit“ selbst als auch erste Ergebnisse in einem breiteren Rahmen und einem größeren Fachpublikum vorzustellen. Mit unserer Bewerbung hatten wir uns mit über vierzig weiteren Projekten für eine Posterpräsentation qualifiziert.

Best Poster Slam Award & Posterpräsentation

Am vierten Tag der Tagung – nach drei abwechslungsreichen Konferenztagen und -beiträgen in Panels, Workshops und dem Doktorandenkonsortien – fand am Donnerstag im Audimax der Uni Trier eines von vielen Highlights der Tagung statt: der POSTERSLAM. Mit der Bühne als Austragungsort und dem Publikum als zu begeisternde kritische Masse ging es um die Wurst, das heißt um die Trophäe des Best Poster Slam Award.

Poster DHd 2023: Schrifttradition digital – Rituell reine Torarollen in der jüdischen Dispora.

22 Projekte buhlten in je 60 Sekunden mit einem Kurzbeitrag um die Gunst des Publikums, um diesem den höchstmöglichen Geräuschpegel zu entlocken – denn das untrügliche Applausometer verzeichnete weder wohlwollendes Nicken noch verhaltenes Kichern, sondern allein das Getöse sich heiß klatschender Hände, trampelnder Füße und herzhafter Lacher. Im Prinzip ist beim Slam alles erlaubt: Kurzvideos, schauspielerische Einlagen, Witze, Klangspiele – der Fantasie und Kreativität sind keine Grenzen gesetzt. Unter dem Titel „Schrifttradition digital: Rituell reine Torarollen in der jüdischen Diaspora“ trat auch unser Team an. Herausforderung war nicht nur, das Auditorium auf der Bühne zu unterhalten, sondern auch neugierig auf das Projektposter zu machen. Das ist uns gelungen: Wir haben den Best Poster Slam Award 2023 gewonnen. Bei der anschließenden Posterpräsentation kam es in Folge zu vielen Gesprächen; Kontakte wurden geknüpft und ein nachhaltiger Eindruck von der Vielfalt der teilnehmenden Projekte gewonnen, die die Breite der Forschungslandschaft im Bereich der Digital Humanities repräsentieren.

Fazit

Die Teilnahme an der DHd 2023 Open Humanities Open Culture war lohnenswert – sowohl in Hinblick auf die digitalen als auch die geisteswissenschaftlichen Aspekte. Das Doktorandenkonsortium ermöglicht dem Forschungsnachwuchs in einem geschützten Raum, die eigene Arbeit vorzustellen und mit anderen Doktorand*innen und erfahrenen Wissenschaftler*innen zu diskutieren. Die Panels und Vorträge bieten die Möglichkeit der Thematisierung verschiedener Schwerpunkte und Einzelaspekte, wie beispielsweise die Frage nach dem Gelingen und Scheitern von Forschungsprojekten oder politische Aspekte von Diversität, Feminismus, Toleranz und Dekolonialisierung, indem gezielt Korpuskritik und Datensensibilität geübt wird. Zudem ist Raum und Gelegenheit Grundsatzfragen zu debattieren, wie die Frage danach: Wie marginal ist eine Randnotiz oder was ist eigentlich eine Marginalie? Datenmodellierung, -verarbeitung, und -darstellung, nachhaltige Speicherung der Daten und die Frage nach der Verknüpfung von Quellen und Daten usw. sind zentral für die Expert*innen der Informationstechnologie. Für uns steht fest: die diesjährige Tagung der DHd war bereichernd, informativ und Gelegenheit wertvolle Kontakte zu knüpfen. Eine Bewerbung für die 10. Tagung 2024 in Passau ist mehr als nur eine Überlegung wert.

Link zu den Digital Humanities im deutschsprachigen Raum: https://dig-hum.de/

Link zu unserem Abstract: https://zenodo.org/record/7715864#.ZFo74HbP2rc

Link zu unserem Poster: https://zenodo.org/record/7711515#.ZFo8RnbP2rc

The Magic of Creation and the Limits of Sorcery

Dana Eichhorst

Anyone familiar with the biblical account of creation is quite likely also familiar with the first sentence of the Torah, which states: In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, or in Hebrew: בראשית ברא אלהים את השמים ואת הארץ. In a Torah scroll, which according to Jewish tradition is made by the hand of a scribe, one can see small decorations on some letters throughout the whole biblical text. Already in the first line of the Holy Scripture, we find these where they appear as fine strokes rising upward from the letters. In many, though not all, scrolls, the word Elohim (one of God’s names) likewise features such ‘little crowns,’ usually called tagin,[1] in this meaningful line.

One may now wonder as to why in many cases the third letter in God’s name Elohim, namely, the letter he, is adorned here with three such tagin. One possible answer is offered by a passage in a text called Sefer Tagin (also: Sefer Tagi) attributed to Rabbi Eleazar ben Yehuda of Worms (c. 1165-c.1238).

Rabbi Eleazar, one of the sages from the medieval circle of the so-called Haside Ashkenaz, is credited with authoring diverse writings that include biblical exegesis, ethical-moral and speculative-theosophical works. He also authored an extensive commentary on one of the most influential non-biblical writings of the Jewish tradition, the Sefer Yesira (Book of Creation). This commentary contains a ritual instruction that has become famous, describing the artificial creation of a being – a golem – out of water and soil. Decisive elements in the golem’s creation are the Hebrew letters and their proper combination. 

Likewise, in the Sefer Tagin attributed to Eleazar, the Hebrew letters play an essential role as elements of divine creation. And the three tagin on the letter he are a reference to this divine work. It is stated three times in the Hebrew Bible that God alone, and none beside Him, is creator of the world. He alone stretches out the heavens (Job 9:8); Stretching out the heavens by Myself, spreading out the earth (Isa 44:24); You alone are the LORD. You made the heavens (Neh 9:6). And three times the Hebrew Bible speaks of God working miracles: To him who alone does great wonders (Psa 136:4); For you are great, and do wondrous things. You are God alone (Psa 86:10); Blessed is the LORD God (…) who alone does wondrous things (Psa 72:18). And why is this said threefold? Because it is written: At the mouth of three witnesses, shall a matter be established (Deu 19:15).

For three things were created first: the heavens, the earth, and the waters. And God alone created these without help and without anything else – prior to the angels and prior to anything that God will call into existence. For this reason, the exegesis says, there are three tagin on the he in Elohim. Thus, the three little ‘branches’ (sansanim) on the he are a reference both to the heavens, the earth, and the water as well as to the one Most High, His creation, and His miracles.

At this point, the author refers explicitly to sorcery and magic, for it is by these that miracles resembling acts of creation seem to be able to be performed. However, such miracles can neither supersede nor equal the work of God, nor can they measure up to the acts of Moses and Aaron. Moreover, God can, if He so desires, cancel such sorcery and even that of the prophets of other gods[2] since He alone is the creator. From the very beginning, sorcery and incantations belong to the divine plan of creation to let it be known, in turn, that no deeds, not even those that deceive the eyes, are like His. At the same time, sorcery is a part of a divine trial determined by divine law because it says: For your God יהוה is testing you (Deu 13:4). However, for anyone who renders a rightful decision in truth and not in deception, it is as if he were a partner with the Holy One in the act of creation. With this reference to Mekhilta de Rabbi Yishmael (18:13), the author concludes that God made the tagin as well as all of those who acknowledge and appreciate His creation His partners. Against the background of the discourse on imitatio dei, this is reminiscent of bSanh 65b: Rava says: If the righteous wish, they can create a world, as it is stated: ‘But your iniquities have separated…’

With the Torah, God created the world, and the tagin adorn His crown, for it says: His head is finest gold, His locks are curled. And black as a raven (Son 5:11). The numerical value of ‘his locks’ (קווצותיו) corresponds to that of ‘this Torah’ (זו תורה), namely 624. By means of three small strokes, with which the third letter of God’s name Elohim is crowned in the first sentence of the Torah, the author demonstrates that creation is an inimitable divine miracle, one in which the letters and tagin play a special role.

[1]            Other terms are also used to refer to the crowns, e.g., ziunin (זיונין) or sansanim (סנסנים).

[2]            The author, probably Eleazar, refers here explicitly to the prophets of Baal and to those of Ashera.