Steven Fine

“Remembered for Praise”: Some Ancient Sources on Benefaction to Herod's Temple

The Temple of Jerusalem was reconstructed and enlarged under the patronage of Herod the Great beginning in 20/19 BCE. This essay assembles epigraphic sources from Jerusalem and literary sources preserved in the writings of Flavius Josephus and the ancient rabbis for benefaction to the Temple by individual wealthy Jews. Donors from as far afield as Rhodes, Alexandria and Adiabene may be identified, with Nicanor of Alexandria and Queen Helena and her son Monobazus of Adiabene appearing in archaeological remains, Josephus and rabbinic literature. This corpus provides a controlled example of ways that literary sources of various genre and archaeological remains may be placed in conversation so as to elicit historical evidence that may be of use to students of Jewish and general Roman antiquity.

Private Households and Public Politics in 3rd–5th Century Jewish Palestine

even small textual and exegetical details, a mention of Spiegel’s work might have been helpful. Three poetic ’Avodot by Yose ben Yose, the first author of piyyutim known by name, and a poem based on the ancient apocryphal book, Ben Sira, close the volume. In their discussion of literary technique, the authors deal with the ornaments of the text, as well as parallelism, alliteration, allusion, and metonymy (in Hebrew kinnui), through which the name of a person or a thing is substituted by a descriptive word or phrase. Swartz and Yahalom do the contemporary reader a great favor by printing such words and phrases in the translation column in bold type and by deciphering them in the margin in the same type. This makes the text easily intelligible at first glance. The authors stress the importance of the ‘Avodah poems to our knowledge of the sources of certain mythological and symbolic elements. The majority of the sources are, of course, found in rabbinic literature, but among them, there are numerous ideas that are preserved only in nonrabbinic texts, that is, in the Apocrypha, Pseudepigrapha, Dead Sea Scrolls, and other Hellenistic Jewish literature. Interestingly, the authors suggest that the eightor ninth-century midrash Pirqe deRabbi Eliezer may have been influenced by ‘Avodah poems. If there can be any criticism of this very rich and rewarding book, which opens up new vistas on a much-neglected branch of Hebrew literature, it is that the commentary is in some places too spare. Some technical inconsistencies, such as a lack of numbering of the poetic lines on some pages (e.g., 99 and 101) could easily be corrected in a second edition.

Symposium on the Dura-Europos Synagogue Paintings, in Tribute to Dr. Rachel Wischnitzer , November, 1968: The Contributions of Morton Smith and Meyer Schaptro

IMAGES 3 Also available online – brill.nl/ima DOI: 10.1163/187180010X500252 Academic conference lectures often afford important glimpses into the process of academic knowledge formation and performance in the period prior to publication. They are environments in which scholars try out new ideas and frequently take chances without the commitment implicit in publication. Conference invitations are often occasions to enter into and try on new areas of research and to formulate work for new audiences. Recordings and transcripts of academic conferences are, thus, important historical sources, reecting the palimpsest nature of academic composition, presentation, and publication. When no publication results, they are often the only evidence of the conference having taken place and of the learning that took place. On November 6, 1968 Yeshiva University held a conference on the campus of its Stern College for Women in New York, called, in a university press release, “Symposium on the Dura-Europos Synagogue Paintings, in tribute to Dr. Rachel Wischnitzer.” Long the “doyenne” of Jewish art scholarship, this event celebrated Wischnitzer’s retirement from Yeshiva University.1 The participants included Dura excavator C. Bradford Welles (Yale University), art historian Blanche Brown (New York University), historian Morton Smith (Columbia University), philosopher David Sidorsky (Columbia University), and art historian Meyer Schapiro (Columbia University), with Rachel Wischnitzer as moderator.2 Shortly after the symposium, a young Vivian Mann, then teaching at Wichita State University, requested and received a recording of the conference, which she recently gave to me. The recording, both the original reel and in digitized form, now resides in the Yeshiva University archives. I am most pleased to present transcripts of two of the more signicant contributions at this conference, those of Morton Smith and Meyer Schapiro, in this issue of Images honoring Vivian. Morton Smith, (1915–1991), professor of Ancient History at Columbia University from 1957 to 1985, was an extremely inuential, cutting-edge, and often provocative historian of ancient Judaism and Christianity. Smith’s knowledge of ancient Judaism, and his impact upon the development of Jewish studies during the second half of the twentieth century were profound. A former Episcopalian priest, Smith was deeply anti-clerical in his predilections, focusing his scholarship upon non-“orthodox” aspects of ancient Judaism and Christianity. In this sense, his work of “counter-history” was related to that of such New Testament scholars as Walter Bauer and E. R. Goodenough and his mentor and friend Gershom Scholem.3 Smith’s inuence on SYMPOSIUM ON THE DURA-EUROPOS SYNAGOGUE PAINTINGS, IN TRIBUTE TO DR. RACHEL WISCHNITZER, NOVEMBER, 1968: THE CONTRIBUTIONS OF MORTON SMITH AND MEYER SCHAPIRO*

The Menorah: Cult, History, and Myth Exhibiting the Past and Future of Catholic-Jewish Relations

by Yitzhak Yitzhak, “All Roads Lead to Rome.”3 This ditty was sung to soldiers of the Jewish Brigade of the British Army when they participated in the liberation of Rome in 1944—a kind of proto-Israeli USO show. According to this song, “a couple of sabras from Canaan, Ruth and Amnon from the Jezreel Valley, went on a trip that had never been done before” to Rome. There these sabra soldiers in love “made out” under the Arch of Titus at midnight. They visited Saint Peter’s and “The pope and all the cardinals could never dream that we were here.” Written near the time of the fall of Mussolini, the lightheartedness of this song is still startling. For Roman Jews, the Vatican was most often a place of fear and oppression to be avoided.4 At that moment the local Jewish community was decimated; soon after the defeat of Italian Fascism, Jewish Holocaust refugees had begun streaming into Rome, many hoping to find their way to Eretz Israel, heal themselves, and create their own Ruths and Amnons. The wartime chief rabbi had secluded himself at the Vatican after converting to Catholicism. Generations had learned to fear the pope and the Church. Simple Jews (like my grandparents) had crossed the street rather than pass near a church, my father never forgetting that he had been beaten by ethnic Catholics in 1940s Boston for being a “Christ killer.” With precious exceptions, Catholicism worldwide was seen as an oppressor. For our ancestors (meaning our parents and grandparents), the joint exhibition in Saint Peter’s Square, with the golden menorah in full view, might have seemed a near messianic sight—or at least a subject for jaundiced curiosity. Abstract

Who is Carrying the Temple Menorah? A Jewish Counter-Narrative of the Arch of Titus Spolia Panel

The Arch of Titus, constructed circa 81 CE under the emperor Domitian, commemorates the victory of the general, then emperor Titus in the Jewish War of 66–74 CE. Located on Rome’s Via Sacra, the Arch has been a “place of memory” for Romans, Christians and Jews since antiquity. This essay explores the history of a Jewish counter-memory of a bas relief within the arch that depicts the triumphal procession of the Jerusalem Temple treasures into Rome in 71 CE. At least since the early modern period, Jews—as well as British Protestants—came to believe that the menorah bearers of this relief represent Jews, and not Roman triumphadors. This essay addresses the history of this widespread belief, particularly during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and continuing in contemporary Israel.

Yet Another Jewish Tombstone from Late Antique Zoar/Zoora: The Funerary Marker of Hannah Daughter of Levi

The Jewish inscriptions tells much about a small Jewish community on the once-vibrant Dead Sea region. This chapter, the result of the type of student-faculty collaboration that Bruce Zuckerman so loves, presents yet another exemplar, this one from the collection of Shlomo Moussaie , and makes some comments regarding its historical context. The publication of each new Zoar inscription sheds newlight upon the Jews who flourished in Zoar during late antiquity, and of the texture of life in Byzantine Zoora. Hannah, daughter of Levi, is yet another of a growing list of Jews, who can be called by name, and who lived within Jewish community. Her tombstone, preserved in the dry heat of Ghor es-Safi, is yet another window into the lives and deaths of this fascinating community. Keywords: Byzantine Zoar; Hannah; Jewish tombstone; Levi

Menorahs in Color: Polychromy in Jewish Visual Culture of Roman Antiquity*

AbstractIn recent years, polychromy has developed as a significant area of research in the study of classical art. This essay explores the significance of this work for interpreting Jewish visual culture during Roman antiquity, through the focal lens of the Arch of Titus Digital Restoration Project. In July 2012, this project discovered that the Arch of Titus menorah was originally colored with yellow ochre paint. The article begins by presenting the general field of polychromy research, which has developed in recent years and resulted in significant museum exhibitions in Europe and the US. It then turns to resistance to polychromy studies among art historians, often called “chromophobia,” and to uniquely Jewish early twentieth-century variants that claimed that Jews were especially prone to colorblindness. After surveying earlier research on polychromy in Jewish contexts, we turn to polychromy in ancient Palestinian synagogue literature and art. Finally, the article explores the significance of polychromy for the study of the Arch of Titus menorah panel, and more broadly considers the importance of polychromy studies for contextualizing Jewish attitudes toward Roman religious art (avodah zarah).