Ishmael on the Border: Rabbinic Portrayals of the First Arab

Acknowledgments

Acknowledgments Ishmael on the Border: Rabbinic Portrayals of the First Arab builds on and develops the ideas explored in my doctoral dissertation, Rabbinic Portrayals of Ishmael. Although this work for the most part retains the overarching framework of the former, and reaches some of the same conclusions, the study of rabbinic texts here is significantly more detailed and nuanced, and thus leads me to draw different conclusions with respect to why the rabbinic treatment of Ishmael changes in the early medieval literature. There has been a marked resurgence of interest in the intertwined relationship of rabbinic Judaism and early Christianity over the past several years. Taking into account and addressing the matters raised in recent works, I have considerably refined my earlier discussion on the degree to which rabbinic literature reflects an engagement with Christian and Muslim theological claims, and redressed related issues. It would have been impossible to complete this work without the gracious support of family, friends, and colleagues whose warmth and well wishes sustained me during various stages of this project. I am grateful to the faculty of the Jewish Theological Seminary, especially Richard Kalmin whose dedication, patience, wealth of knowledge and good judgment contributed greatly to my formation as a scholar. Stephen Garfinkel, Raymond Scheindlin, Stephen Geller, Benjamin Gampel and Eliezer Diamond each in his own way was and ever remains, a fount of knowledge and a source of encouragement. This work has benefited enormously from the attention of Seth Schwartz, whose erudition never ceases to amaze me. I am grateful for the many enlightening and engaging conversations we have had over the years, for his critical reading of this work, and above all for his friendship. I also wish to thank my former colleagues in the Department of Religion at Middlebury College, O. Larry Yarbrough and Katherine vii Sonderegger, a most inspiring interlocutor who helped me sharpen the conceptual framework of my thesis. I am indebted to William Schniedewind and Michael Cooperson, my colleagues at UCLA, who commented on earlier versions of some of the chapters. Reuven Firestone, Robert Goldenberg and Joel Kaminsky read a first draft of the manuscript. Their keen reading of the manuscript improved it immeasurably. And finally, I am thankful to Dana Foote, Maccabee Avishur, and Candice Levy for their editorial assistance. Of course it goes without saying (but I will state it anyway) that no one other than I should be held accountable for shortcomings one may find in the work. This study was made possible in part by funds granted by the Charles H. Revson Foundation, the Memorial Foundation for Jewish Culture, and most recently by the Koret Foundation. The statements made and views expressed, however, are solely the responsibility of the author. I wish to thank my mentors Jon Levenson, who introduced me to the playful, yet reverent world of midrash, and Brother Jerome O’Connell, who passed away in 1998. Brother Jerome fostered my love of literature and often reminded me of Ireneaus’s words, “God’s glory is man fully alive.” In A Driven Leaf, Milton Steinberg writes: “No matter what other doubts we entertain, we cannot question the reality of friendship. And in a world where so little is certain, that is a good deal.” Indeed it is so. I thank Barbara Butterworth, Paul Dry, Vivienne Kneider, Alexa Midthassel, and Walid Saleh for their constant support and friendship, which is a very good deal. This book is dedicated to the memory of my father, Mehsen Bakhos (1932–1998), who believed me when I said, “soon.” The world of academia , let alone the world of the rabbis, was alien to him. Yet, in his own way he delighted and took pride in my pursuit. This book is also dedicated to Dr. Arthur Carr, Professor Emeritus of Columbia University, who despite the near fifty years between us, is a steadfast friend and confidant. Arthur’s zest for life—that is, his deep appreciation of the ordinary—his intellectual curiosity, and his passion for the Arts inspire me endlessly. I thank him for encouraging me, for often chiding me (there is nothing like a good tonguelashing to whip one into shape), but more than anything else, I thank him for the laughter. For this and more I am grateful. viii Acknowledgments ...