"Scholasticism Is a Daughter of Judaism":The Discovery of Jewish Influence on Medieval Christian Thought
This article retells the surprising discovery of a considerable Jewish influence on Christian scholasticism in the Middle Ages. While most students of Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas knew that both had read Jewish philosophy, only the rediscovery of especially Maimonides's Guide of the Perplexed by Jewish philosophers in the nineteenth century showed the whole extent of the scholastics' dependence on Jewish predecessors – especially where they do not refer to them specifically. This Jewish discovery naturally faced Catholic resistance, if not denial, and turns thus into an interesting chapter in the history of theological ideas.
Maimonides, Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas; Modern, Jewish Thought, scholasticism
Only a few scholars have pointed to the interest that nineteenth-century Jewish thought took in the influence of medieval Jewish philosophy on Christian philosophical scholasticism.1 The pioneer in this fertile field of research was Manuel Joel (1826–90), the very scholar who in the 1850s established philosophy as an independent discipline of the Wissenschaft des Judentums— a movement founded in the 1820s in Germany that approached Judaism with academic tools and the scientific methodology of philology, historiography, and philosophy. In 1857 Joel published a detailed essay on the influence of Salomon Ibn Gabirol (1022–57) on Christian philosophy, followed by several smaller articles on the same subject. In 1859 he published the first-ever academic monograph on Maimonides's philosophy,2 and in 1863 Joel's efforts culminated in a major study on the [End Page 319] relation of the thought of Albert the Great (1200–80) to Maimonides's Guide of the Perplexed.3
Joel's successor in researching the Jewish influence on important Christian philosophers in the Middle Ages was Jacob Guttmann, who in 1892 also succeeded Joel as rabbi of the town of Breslau. But even before Guttmann had returned to Breslau—where he had studied until 1874—he had embarked on an ambitious project to complete Joel's scholarly efforts to establish what both philosophers called a certain "dependence" of scholasticism on theological ideas developed by Jewish thinkers. With Guttmann this project came into full bloom. Guttmann's most important contribution to this field was his study on the relationship between the work of Thomas Aquinas (1225–75) and the written philosophy of Judaism, especially that of Maimonides (1138–1204).4 In the almost thirty years between 1889 and 1918, Guttmann also published several minor studies considering the Jewish influence on Alexander of Hales, John Duns Scotus, Vincent of Beau-vais, William of Auvergne, Bonaventure, Roger Bacon, and others, all appearing in the flagship journal of the Breslau school of Jewish thought, the Monatsschrift für Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums.5 Remarkably, these studies became the accepted standard works in academic circles, at least until the 1970s.6
Both Joel and Guttmann thus developed a surprising theory that can rightly be called one of the original achievements of the "positive-historical" approach of the Breslau school, which both scholars decisively shaped.7 Of course, the Breslau scholars did not claim to have discovered [End Page 320] the debt Christian scholasticism owed to Jewish ideas, for the medieval Christian theologians themselves refer continually to Maimonides's Guide and other Jewish sources of their own doctrines. But Joel and Guttmann were able to demonstrate that the influence of Jewish philosophy on Christian thought was much greater than previously assumed, especially by identifying a large number of passages where Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas adopt Maimonidean doctrines without any reference to the original author.
Nevertheless, the purpose of the present study is not to prove whether the alleged Jewish influence on medieval Christian scholasticism is as strong as Joel and Guttmann claim, or whether Christian scholasticism is indeed dependent on Jewish philosophy. My purpose is rather to contextualize the theory of this dependence, first within the overall theological agenda of the Wissenschaft des Judentums movement, and second within the scholarly debates this theory incited among Jewish and Christian scholars at the turn of the twentieth century.
The slogan "Scholasticism is a daughter of Judaism," quoted above, may be helpful in this regard. The phrase belongs to Heinrich Graetz, the first modern Jewish historian (1817–91): "Today one does not talk about Christian-medieval scholasticism in such a disdainful way, one even overrates it here and there; admits at least that scholasticism retained a spark of intellect in the monkish darkness. Now then! This scholasticism is a daughter of Judaism, it was raised by Jewish thinkers …"8 Here, in the preface to the sixth volume of his highly influential and widely read History of the Jews, written as early as 1861, Graetz assumes the overwhelming Jewish influence on scholasticism as an established fact, and proudly announces it as another triumph of ridiculed Judaism over arrogant but in fact ignorant Christianity. Graetz's work, it must be noted, was not simply the first academic historiography of Judaism; its eleven volumes became the most important source for the modern European Jew's new self-identification in the nineteenth century. Graetz doesn't come back to his triumphant slogan, either within the sixth volume or in the seventh, which deals with the time period in question. He claims, though, that the Dominicans burned Maimonides's Guide in the thirteenth century because they feared the influence of the book on Christian theology.9 We might therefore speculate that this motto was based on Graetz's knowledge of Manuel Joel's research. [End Page 321]
Joel, Graetz's younger colleague at the Breslau Rabbinical Seminary, had published an essay titled "Something on the Influence of Jewish Philosophy on Christian Scholasticism" in the Monatsschrift in 1860, the previous year. This essay already included all the major claims and theses concerning scholastic thought's theological debt to Judaism—brought forward here still without textual proof, however.10 In this essay, Joel also developed, for the first time, his influential theory as to why independent thinkers such as Albert or Thomas would borrow an idea introduced by the Jew Maimonides—a theory that soon became the common good of medieval intellectual scholarship. He argued that after the works of Aristotle were made available to Christian theologians from the first half of the twelfth-century onward (through translations often made by Jews, as Jewish scholars never fail to point out), Christian scholastic philosophy rapidly abandoned its previously prevailing Neoplatonism and turned radically Aristotelian. But there were large parts of the philosophy of Aristotle, as opposed to the thought of Plato, that made a harmonious combination of Greek and biblical ideas extremely difficult—most famous among them being Aristotle's insistence on the eternity of the world. Joel claimed that it was on exactly this point that Maimonides became an invaluable resource for scholastic theology. Not only could Christian scholars learn from the Jewish philosopher how to establish an independent position vis-à-vis the much-revered Aristotle, but they could gain incomparably more from Maimonides's own original and convincing philosophical method for disproving Aristotle's theory that the world had no beginning. Essentially, Maimonides argued that Aristotle had unjustifiably applied the laws of nature of the existing world to the world in becoming, the world in the process of being created.11 Important scholastic theologians all adopted this Maimonidean doctrine, nearly unaltered, in their urgent need to harmonize the Bible with Aristotelian metaphysics.
Therefore, it emerges that this ideology of a scholastic philosophy transformed by Jewish influence precisely fits the cultural, political, and religious agenda of the Wissenschaft des Judentums movement. Consistent with Ismar Schorsch's description of a "scholarship in the service of religious reform," many of the movement's main representatives saw their research efforts as supporting a renaissance of Judaism in a time when [End Page 322] religion had become a private matter.12 Jewish Wissenschaft had come to "instill new pride" in those Jews who were willing to hold on to the synagogue, as Max Wiener put it in 1933. Historical research into Judaism, and in particular research into the history of its ideas, was not only a means to clarify the essential content of Judaism, according to Wiener; research played a substantial role in the development of Judaism, its very subject.13 And there was probably no better way to achieve this modern identification with the old religion than to prove Judaism's decisive influence on the progress of world culture, thought, and civilization. If this idea, the discovery of a specific Jewish mission to the civilized world, could be supported not only by the influence of the great Jewish concepts of monotheism and messianism, but also by direct proof of how Jewish thinkers advanced intellectual developments—even in the dark Middle Ages—such proof must have been highly welcome. For this would demonstrate convincingly that Jewish scholarship had always been at the forefront of progress and was therefore no mere apologetic vehicle for modern Jews to attest their willingness and ability to fully integrate into the surrounding non-Jewish society.
Only three years later, Joel followed up on a promise in his 1860 essay and provided substantial textual proof for his daring claims. In a major study published in 1863 with the 1862 Jahresbericht of the Breslau seminary, Joel provided a thorough analysis of several almost parallel passages from Maimonides's Guide and the works of Albertus Magnus, one of the first Christian Aristotelians. Joel demonstrated how Albert "copied from Maimonides precisely at those places where a Christian theologian did well to follow Maimonides instead of Aristotle."14 Maimonides, Joel wrote bluntly, was "virtually the intellectual originator of this whole changed direction that Christian scholasticism took with Albert," a change toward the adoption of Aristotelian philosophy.15 Maimonides's Guide had in fact "caused" [herbeiführen] this reorientation; Joel corrected his Christian predecessors in the field of medieval comparistics: according to Joel, Ernest Renan, for example, had ignored the Jewish influence on scholasticism when he wrote of two parallel developments toward Aristotelianism.16 Joel argued further that the Jewish influence also became obvious when one [End Page 323] took into account the striking differences between Maimonides and Albert the Great. While Maimonides in the Guide clearly presupposed Aristotelianism, and offered intellectual support to other Jewish Aristotelian philosophers who had begun doubting traditional religious beliefs, Albert was forced to first teach Aristotle's doctrines to his Christian readers. While Maimonides sought to achieve a certain harmony between religion and philosophy, for Albert both simply coexisted unrelatedly—in instances of conflict, Albert would invariably take the side of the theologian. Unlike Maimonides, Joel concluded, Albert was no real rationalist because he still accepted two types of truth.17 Albert was attracted to Maimonides to the same extent that he was disgusted by the Guide: therefore "he left the fame"—as Joel called it—"of modeling himself on Maimonides with greater freedom to Thomas Aquinas."18 Thomas, Joel believed, did not merely borrow ideas from the Guide; rather, he "worked in the spirit of Maimonides"—especially concerning the harmonization of religion and philosophy.19
Albert knew and used all three parts of the Guide in his own work, Joel emphasized. In the third part—which deals extensively with the reasons for the biblical commandments—Albert was especially interested in Maimonides's famous historical doctrine about the origin of biblical sacrifices. The Maimonidean theory that animal sacrifices served a transitional purpose and were commanded by the Bible to accommodate the ancient Israelites eventually to a new form of divine worship also played a decisive role in debates between Jewish orthodoxy and liberalism in Joel's own time, the nineteenth century. The liberal rabbi may have been pleased to find this controversial Maimonidean argument being adopted without difficulty by a conservative Christian theologian such as Albert.20
Another rather modern aspect of Joel's discussion of Albert and Judaism emerges from the fact that the Christian scholastic unknowingly adopted from the Guide of the Perplexed several Talmudic rabbinical sayings, sayings that Maimonides frequently invokes without clear reference. After discovering Albert's unintended use of the Talmud, Joel did not hesitate to point out the historical irony that in 1248 Albert, the later bishop of Regensburg, signed a decree that condemned the Talmud and ordered its [End Page 324] public burning. But instead of taking pleasure in this irony, Joel commented that a studious man such as Albert would not have signed the decree in the first place "if he only knew the Talmud, and thus could have guessed how easily it happens that the same pen condemns the Talmud and cites it as an authority."21 This small episode depicts in a nutshell Joel's general approach—and that of the whole Breslau school, for that matter—to the subject at hand. It was not a desire for historical revenge on Christianity that motivated this research; Joel's sole aim was to demonstrate historical truth and to rebalance distorted views. To fail to identify the Maimonidean influence on Albert would lead to a lack of understanding of Christian scholasticism, Joel argued. Modern Christian scholars who were unaware of this influence mistook the true origin of Albert's ideas and thus praised the scholastic theologian where in fact Maimonides deserved the credit.22 As an example, Joel referred to Heinrich Ritter (1791–1869) and his much-read Geschichte der Philosophie. In the eighth volume of this work, published in 1845, Ritter ignorantly praised Albert for a statement that was originally Maimonidean. In general, Ritter's History underrated the importance of medieval Jewish philosophy, of which only Maimonides is mentioned. Ritter emphasized, however, the great influence of Avicebron on scholastic thought—unaware of the true identity of this author. Only in 1846 did Salomon Munk discover that the Latin author Avicebron was in fact identical with the Hebrew poet Salomon Ibn Gabirol.23 In summary, Joel wrote, "referring to the teachings of medieval Jewish philosophy is a necessary precondition for understanding scholasticism."24
After Joel's pioneering work in the field, the actual heyday of Jewish medieval comparistics only came with the near-encyclopedic studies by Jacob Guttmann, who devoted much of his scholarly activity to the discovery and evaluation of new adoptions and appreciations of Jewish medieval philosophy, especially that of Maimonides, in Christian scholastic thought.25 Unlike Joel, Guttmann was also interested in the differences [End Page 325] between Jewish and Christian medieval theology, and he no longer depreciated the intellectual achievements of Albert and Thomas in favor of those of Maimonides, as Joel had done. Instead, Guttmann praised both Christian authors for their originality and independence of thought, thus establishing even greater significance for the fact that they had absorbed major Maimonidean theories. "I am far from claiming that Jewish religious philosophy was actually responsible for the rise of Christian scholasticism," Guttmann wrote, implicitly criticizing Joel's theory. This is because the two religions have only a few theological subjects in common. But it can still be said that Christian scholastics "benefited in a crucial way" from their knowledge of Maimonides's Guide.26 And maybe it can even be claimed, Guttmann speculated, "that it is due to their Maimonidean model that they escaped conflict with church authorities despite their commitment to Aristotle."27 But interestingly, Guttmann always defended Joel's work against increasing Christian criticism of the Breslau theory asserting the dependence of scholastic thought on Jewish paragons. Guttmann clearly saw himself as continuing the scholarly tradition—and with it, its aims and agenda—that Joel had established thirty years earlier. With all his noticeable precaution against exaggerated conclusions concerning the dependence theory, Guttmann never deviated from the main claim that fits so well with the religious agenda of the Wissenschaft movement: that Judaism had a direct impact on the development of Christian thought and that the formative scholastic theologians of Christianity were fully aware of this fact.
What Joel attempted in 1863—the demonstration of a direct relationship between Maimonides and Albert the Great—Guttmann continued in 1891 with Thomas of Aquino. Guttmann's was the much more difficult challenge, not least because of the overwhelming impact Thomas has had on subsequent Christian theology, probably down to the present day, comparable with the continuous influence of Maimonides even on modern Jewish thought. Guttmann noted how Christian scholars of Thomasian theology marvel at the fact that Thomas followed Maimonides rather than his scholastic predecessors, for example, concerning the doctrine of creation. It seemed that Thomas was committed exclusively to truth, independent of the religion of its author, Guttmann continued, thereby in a way describing his own current project to re-establish the true role of Judaism [End Page 326] in medieval philosophy.28 Thomas did not simply copy from Maimonides, as Albertus had, Guttmann argued. Rather, in all cases of parallel doctrines, Thomas fully appropriated and accepted Maimonides's thought. Maimonides's influence on Thomas's theology "cannot be overestimated" because Thomas depends on Maimonides not only for some isolated adopted doctrines but "in a certain sense in the construction of his entire theological system."29
Not surprisingly, it would be Guttmann's far-reaching claims, often independent of the textual proof he was able to provide for them, that soon inspired a more balanced and selective counterargument from the Christian, foremost Catholic scholarly circles of Guttmann's time. At least one of the "fundamental conceptions of Thomasian theology," Guttmann explained, "can be attributed with unquestionable certainty to Jewish literature as its source": the teaching of the purpose of divine revelation as in fact confirming rational truth, accessible to human reason. This doctrine had already been developed in Jewish philosophy by Saadia Gaon (882–942), of whom Thomas was unaware, but was brought to fruition by Maimonides, from whom Thomas clearly adopted the entire theory, although only with partial reference to the Guide.30 As this and other examples show, Guttmann emphasized that Thomas as a rule appropriated the teachings of Judaism preferably for the more rational aspects of his own theology, thus making Jewish sources the basis of the originality and, in a certain sense, timeless modernity of Thomasian thought. In cases where Thomas explicitly deviated from Maimonides, the immediate reason, according to Guttmann, was an urgent need to defend the Christian idea of the Trinity or other doctrinal and more irrational teachings of the church.31
As Joel had in the case of Albertus Magnus, Guttmann underscored the fact that Thomas was highly interested in Maimonides's often debated reasons for the biblical commandments, as explained in the third part of the Guide of the Perplexed, a doctrine that had been fully appropriated in the nineteenth century by all streams of the movement for religious reform of Judaism. "Maimonides's theories here are so radically rational that even among Jews his explanations caused vehement rejection out of fear for the dignity of the divine law," Guttmann noted correctly and continued: "Thus [End Page 327] it is even more conspicuous that the thirteenth-century scholastics follow Maimonides in their own interpretation of Mosaic Law without taking offense."32 Guttmann's own explanation for this phenomenon is that Thomas approached the Hebrew Bible with much greater impartiality than he would ever dare to display toward the New Testament. If this explanation is true, it again only confirms Guttmann's and Joel's general assumption that Thomas's and Albert's appreciation of Maimonidean rationalism toward the law would recruit for the modern, non-orthodox theology of Judaism the valued authority of two great Christian thinkers who cannot be accused of sympathy with Jewish liberalism.
The impact of this detailed dependence-theory, developed by two leading Jewish philosophers and supported by the massive textual evidence they provided, was felt by many in the nineteenth century to be "as surprising as a revelation," as Philipp Bloch (1841–1923), the longtime rabbi of the town of Posen, wrote in a 1890 obituary for Manuel Joel, his former teacher at the Breslau seminary.33 The claim that medieval Jewish thought was of decisive influence on the development of Christian scholasticism caused a stir of reactions, in at least two main directions. On the one hand, Guttmann's and Joel's intention to demonstrate Judaism's ability to substantially contribute to human civilization yielded fruit within subsequent Jewish thought. On the other hand, the results of Guttmann's and Joel's research were provocative enough that they could not be ignored by Christian scholars, and those scholars' often critical reaction might in itself be invoked as additional proof for the general influence of the Breslau school's theory under discussion here.
Fellow Breslau scholars such as David Kaufmann and Moritz Güde-mann were the first to incorporate the theory of the essential dependence of scholasticism on Jewish thought into their own works.34 Kaufmann, for example, emphasized another historical irony involved with this theory: soon after the alleged burning of Maimonides's Guide by French Dominicans, "the spirits of Albert and Thomas Aquinas, two of the most celebrated Dominicans, were ignited by this same work," as Kaufmann noted.35 In 1865, a graduate of the Breslau seminary and longtime rabbi of the town [End Page 328] of Erfurt, Adolf Jaraczewsky (1829–1911), published an interesting article on the ethical thought of Maimonides in an influential German philosophical journal.36 Jaraczewsky incorporated into this article many aspects of the dependence theory he had adopted from his teacher Manuel Joel, literally copying entire passages from Joel's 1860 Monatsschrift essay without even referring to his source. (Presumably, Joel was in the picture, otherwise this blatant plagiarism would have been too obvious.) "Maimonides caused a very manifest transformation of scholastic thought," Jaraczewsky stated, repeating Joel's idea and asserting that, because of its biblical foundation, Maimonides's philosophy became essentially superior to classical Aristotelism—and this was what had attracted the scholastic thinkers.37
Soon the dependence theory had become almost self-evident knowledge, even beyond the Breslau school, for almost all Jewish thinkers writing on the subject. In the style of Heinrich Graetz's triumphant slogan from 1861, Moritz Eisler, a Moravian school principal and author of three popular volumes about medieval Jewish philosophy (published between 1870 and 1883), wrote unceremoniously, "Without Maimonides there was no Thomas of Aquinas and no Albertus Magnus"—a statement that no subsequent Christian critic of the dependence theory left unnoticed.38 Abraham Geiger, the founder of the Jewish Reform Movement, also took advantage of the Breslau theory of the Jewish influence on Christian thought. Geiger led a lifelong and bitter battle with Christian theologians, defending his own reform ideas of Judaism against the repeated accusation that he was imitating Christian models of thought. For Geiger, Reform Judaism was not only the natural consequence of a major stream in the millennia of Jewish theological tradition; for him, rational Jewish theology and the religious philosophy of Judaism were incomparably superior to all streams of Christian religious speculation, because Christianity was forced by its own essential doctrines to inevitably end up in irrational mysticism.39 Therefore, [End Page 329] in a detailed essay from 1863 comparing Jewish and Christian theology, Geiger called attention to "the magnificent way in which medieval Jewish philosophy developed its speculative affinity and predisposition." Sa'adia, Ibn Gabirol, Maimonides, and other medieval Jewish thinkers "have borrowed nothing from Christians," Geiger exclaimed, "but they themselves became the teachers of Christians," referring here to Joel's study on Albert "the Great" (ironic quotation marks by Geiger). Manuel Joel, Geiger argued, "has painstakingly and compellingly demonstrated" the dependence of Albert on the Guide of the Perplexed.40 And in 1865, in his collected lectures on "Judaism and its History," Geiger wrote another one of these generalizing statements that easily incited the critique of his Catholic fellow scholars: "Maimonides was the teacher of the entire Middle Ages, and every enlightened intellect that came after him has eagerly drawn on him, was inspired by him and gladly called himself Maimonides's student."41
With regards to Jacob Guttmann's work, in one of the first English-language biographies of Maimonides, published in Philadelphia in 1903, David Yellin and Israel Abrahams quoted Guttmann's expressive claim of Thomas Aquinas's dependence on Maimonides and declared, "If the Guide of the Jew and the Summa of the Christian bear this relation, then Maimonides deserves a place among the fathers of the Church."42 In 1911, Isaac Husik, though an outspoken critic of the religious agenda of Wissenschaft des Judentums, defended Guttmann's position in the introduction to a research article for the Jewish Quarterly Review. After recounting the development of the Breslau dependence theory and some Christian criticism thereof, Husik complained that earlier Jewish exaggerations of the influence of Maimonides on medieval scholastic thought had had the unfortunate result on the Christian side "that an error is made in the opposite direction, in minimizing the debt Thomas Aquinas undoubtedly owes to Maimonides."43 For Husik, it was "the great merit" of Guttmann to have demonstrated that this debt "is not a matter of conjecture or of speculation, but [End Page 330] of clear evidence, plain to anyone who is willing to take the trouble to read."44 On the claim that still caused amazement among Christian scholars, Husik fully agreed with Guttmann and with Joel's original theory: that "it was quite natural" (Husik) for both Albert and Thomas to leave the path of their Christian predecessors and to turn toward Maimonides.45
At this point, the other response to the Breslau theory, the frequent rejection of any claim to outright dependence by most of contemporary Christian scholarship, deserves attention. As mentioned above, both Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas, as well as many other medieval scholastics, mention the Guide of the Perplexed and its author occasionally in their theological writings.46 This fact alone has always been of interest to Christian historians of medieval thought and was generally ascertained in a more or less neutral way. It can be shown, however, that it was only after, and as a consequence of, radical Jewish claims to intellectual supremacy in the second half of the nineteenth century that this subject became a field for academic debates and religiously based animosities. The best example of the original impartiality of Christian scholarship is a short statement by the French philosopher Emile Edmond Saisset (1814–63) that virtually all authors quoted subsequently in the context of the influence of Judaism on scholastic thought. In 1862 (that is, one year before Joel's study on Albert the Great appeared), Saisset published a scholarly article on some traces of Maimonides's Guide in Spinoza. In a short introduction to this essay, Saisset wrote about the influence of the Guide on thinkers before Spinoza, "the great Christian doctors of the thirteenth century, a Albertus Magnus and a St. Thomas Aquinas, have read [Maimonides] in Latin translation and quote him with respect and admiration. His name, known to everyone, remains a glorious spirit of moderation and wisdom." Finally, he comes to the pointed conclusion: "Maimonides is the forerunner of St. Thomas Aquinas, and More Nebukhim announces and prepares the Summa theologiae."47 This was more or less the line of argument taken up by the Jewish [End Page 331] scholars in Breslau, and the absoluteness of the argument, the claim of the scholastics' real dependence on Jewish philosophy, is what subsequently outraged some of their Christian colleagues.
One of several Christian responses to Manuel Joel came from Georg von Hertling (1843–1919), a scholar and politician who served for five years as prime minister of Bavaria and later even became chancellor of the German Empire for a short period during World War I. In 1880 Hertling published his collected scholarly studies on the thought of Albert the Great, on the occasion of the 600th anniversary of Albert's death. In this work Hertling mentioned only in a footnote that Albert "used Maimonides very much, sometimes he borrows entire passages." In the same note, Hertling charged Joel with "ridiculous exaggeration" in describing Albert as "a mere parroter" of Maimonides. According to Hertling, there was no justification for Joel's theory that the Aristotelian change of direction in scholastic philosophy of the thirteenth century was the result of "the rivaling competition [Wetteifer] with Jewish philosophy that had rushed ahead [vorangeeilt] of scholasticism."48
Twelve years before Jacob Guttmann published his study on Thomas's dependence on Jewish thought, the same subject was touched upon by the Protestant scholar of the Old Testament Adalbert Merx (1837–1909) in Heidelberg. In 1879 Merx published a detailed book on the prophecy of the biblical Joel and its interpreters. Concerning Thomas and Maimonides, Merx ascertained, while still unaffected by the Jewish scholarship of the Breslau school, much more than a mere general resemblance of thought in the theory of prophecy. Thomas borrowed directly from Maimonides, according to Merx: "in Thomas the entire theory of prophecy is founded on Maimonides, in the basic ideas as well as in the details." Thomas "incorporated the fundamental passages of the Moreh into his Summa," Merx wrote, and "unfortunately not always to the advantage of his own work." Thomas not only interrupted the "magnificent systematic continuity" of Maimonides's thought in order to yield to Church dogma, he also ignored "the subtle psychological motivation" of his Maimonidean model, and thus "hampered a deeper understanding and a true appreciation of this brilliant and comprehensive theory" of the Jewish thinker. But the "unskillful form" of Thomas's adaptation of the Guide is not even Merx's severest point of criticism of the medieval scholastic—toward the end of his short discussion, [End Page 332] he called it "most deplorable" that in many cases "the Dominican and principal Christian dogmatic exploited a work without mentioning it." According to Merx, it could only be called a "shameful maltreatment" of Maimonides that Thomas's fellow friars were burning the Guide in Paris while at the same time Thomas was incorporating its best parts into the dogma of the Dominican order. There is no indication, however, that Merx borrowed the idea of the irony of this legendary burning from the Jewish scholar David Kaufmann and his above-mentioned book, published two years earlier.49
Nevertheless, this accusation of "plagiarism" was subsequently often challenged by Christian scholars, especially after the concurring research of the Breslau school had been published. In 1894, Carl Siegfried (1830–1903) of the University of Jena followed Guttmann uncritically in his claim that Thomas failed to mention Maimonides's name, especially concerning those subjects "where he owes everything to him." But Siegfried then asked his readers to imagine they were in Thomas's situation: clearly, for political reasons Thomas was not in a position to concede that he had borrowed from Maimonides, at the very time when the Guide was being burned publicly.50 In 1899 the Catholic theologian Joseph Mausbach dedicated an entire essay to the refutation of Merx. Mausbach claimed that it was simply incompatible with Thomas's scholarly integrity to assume he would have suppressed Maimonides's name on purpose, and after all, the Jews themselves had denounced Maimonides with the Dominicans. More interesting, however, is Mausbach's emphatic, exceptional call to Catholic scholarship to welcome the results of their Jewish and Protestant colleagues concerning Thomas's dependence on Maimonides. Quoting from Manuel Joel and Jacob Guttmann, Mausbach wrote that the countless parallels that the latter especially had found between Maimonides and Thomas "might come as an embarrassing surprise" to those Catholics who were only used to panegyrics. But those who were more reasonable would understand that even Saint Thomas was influenced by his intellectual surroundings and must have learned from certain teachers.51 [End Page 333]
In 1892, immediately after Guttmann's study on Thomas was published, the book was reviewed in the renowned Philosophisches Jahrbuch of the German Görres society. The author of the article was a Benedictine theologian from Rome, Beda Adlhoch, who appeared to hold Guttmann's scholarship and its results in the highest regard. Throughout the review, his ambition was nevertheless to find an occasional small point of exaggeration in Guttmann's account of Thomas's dependence on Maimonides, an aspect where Guttmann had "overlooked an important limitation" Thomas had made, differing from Maimonides, or where Maimonides had drawn the borderline of a subject differently than the Dominican. Adlhoch almost celebrated the fact that even Guttmann "cannot avoid mentioning deviations" between the two medieval theologians. There was no need for Guttmann, Adlhoch argued, to "make Thomas entirely dependent on Maimonides, so that the latter would be glorified in the kingdom of philosophy. No, both have ample room there side by side." Mirroring Guttmann, Adlhoch called Thomas's readiness to find an ally in Maimonides "wise," and his recognition of the achievement of a thinker from a different faith "chivalrous." Ultimately, Thomas himself had declared that he respected both the authority of Saint Augustine and that of the nobilissimi philosophorum.52 Adlhoch asserted that in the near future he wished to read more from Guttmann on the field of Christian scholasticism, and only sought some "progress in objectivity" on the side of the Jewish scholar.53
Also of note is the reaction of the Protestant theologian Adolf von Harnack, whose famous sixteen lectures on the Essence of Christianity from 1899/1900 provoked irate reactions both from conservative Christian circles and from the young Breslau graduate Leo Baeck—who in 1905 published the first edition of his own The Essence of Judaism, a reply particularly to Harnack's description of the Jewish religion as a cult of outdated law.54 In Harnack's main theological work, History of Dogma (1894), he has no difficulty conceding the enormous influence of Maimonides on Christian scholasticism in general, and on Thomas of Aquinas specifically. But, consistent with Harnack's liberal Protestant view of religion, he claimed that the Jewish influence consolidated everything that was objectionable in Catholic Christianity. Through Thomas's borrowing from Maimonides, "the legalistic-casuistic element of scholasticism was even [End Page 334] reinforced and medieval Christian theology was contaminated [einschleppen] by pharisaic-Talmudic theologumena," Harnack wrote.55
Manuel Joel's scholarship on Albert's relation to Maimonides, and later Jacob Guttmann's extensive work on the assumed dependence of Thomas on the Guide, also found entrance into the standard encyclopedias of medieval philosophy, published in nineteenth-century Germany in many successive, frequently updated editions. Here the same phenomenon can be observed: as Jewish scholarship on the Breslau theory of dependence progressed, opposition to that theory mounted. In the well-known Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie in der scholastischen Zeit, published for the first time in 1864—that is, only one year after Joel's study about Albert had appeared—the original editor of the work, Friedrich Ueberweg (1826–71), already mentioned Joel's scholarship. What is more, it seems that Ueberweg even appropriated Joel's central thesis that Albertus Magnus followed Maimonides exactly on those points where the Guide's teachings were closer to church orthodoxy than to the Arab philosophers Albert knew, especially concerning the creation of the world.56 This positive treatment was clearly suppressed within the later editions of the Grundriss, as we will soon see.
Somewhat different is the tone found in Albert Stöckl's standard Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters from 1865. Stöckl (1823–95) earned the public derision of Jacob Guttmann for his open declaration that he had no explanation for the fact that at least in some questions Thomas Aquinas completely adopted Maimonides's doctrines instead of following his Christian predecessors. This "will always remain a strange phenomenon" to Stöckl,57 and indeed, the same amazement is repeated by Stöckl in an article from 1883, when he still has no answer to this question.58 Guttmann himself, however, can easily explain Thomas's unusual preferences through his universal love of truth, regardless of the religion of its confessor.59 Moreover, Guttmann was well aware of Stöckl's occasional anti-Semitic utterances, hidden in the pages of his work. In one instance, Stöckl wrote that "the Jews, those born adversaries of Christianity, did not hesitate to follow and further propagate Arab Aristotelian philosophy because [End Page 335] it was so hostile toward Christianity" and because this philosophy allotted pious religious belief only to the lower strata of the population.60 If hostility toward Christianity was the motive for the Latin translations of Aristotle, Guttmann replied, than the one to be blamed for it was Raymond de Sauvetât, the archbishop of Toledo, who in the first half of the twelfth century created the famous Toledo group of translators and initiated most of these translations.61 But this ironic reply by Guttmann is certainly more polemic than convincing—the state of affairs here is more complex, of course. Not only is Stöckl's description of the elitist nature of Arab and Jewish medieval Aristotelianism very close to the truth, Raymond's and others' Latin translation projects were certainly, despite Raymond's episcopal status, still frowned upon by the Church authorities.62
A more serious and less polemical attempt to refute the Breslau theory of dependence of scholasticism on Jewish thought was made in 1891 by the church historian Anton Michel from Tübingen.63 Incidentally, Michel's study on the cosmology of Maimonides and Thomas Aquinas appeared exactly at the same time as Jacob Guttmann's monograph on the relation of Thomas and the Guide, so that unfortunately the two scholars could not refer to each other. Michel nevertheless had no difficulty referring to other Jewish scholars who wrote on the subject, listing them freely mixed with Christian authors. Michel mentioned Jourdain, Renan, Munk, Joel, Eisler, Kauffmann, and others who all "advanced in the last decades our knowledge of Arabic, Jewish and Christian scholasticism."64 Michel argued that Maimonides's thought might have been decisive for the development of Jewish philosophy but not to the same extent for the development of Christian scholasticism. For Michel, the frequent references to the Guide made by many scholastic theologians prove solely that those authors knew and had read Maimonides, but did not prove the actual impact of the Guide on their own works. Explicitly mentioning Manuel Joel and Moritz Eisler, Michel refuted their theses that Maimonides was the teacher of the entire Middle Ages in general, and that his Guide was the predecessor of Thomas's Summa specifically. Even according to formal criteria, the Guide was [End Page 336] no more than an almost casual sequence of reasoning, without logical distinctions—while the Summa was a rigorous and logically consistent scholastic system, Michel argued—this in direct opposition to the Jewish scholars who always preferred Maimonides's strict and consequent rationalism over Thomas's apologetic defense of irrational Christian dogma.
For Christian, especially Catholic, readers of Michel, this essay soon became a welcome weapon in their objective to save, as they probably saw it, Saint Thomas of Aquinas from Jewish usurpation. Thus in 1898 the German Dominican Thomas M. Wehofer, who worked in Rome, inserted a two-page text of additional explanation on the relation between Thomas's and Maimonides's thought into what was already the eighth edition of Ueberweg's Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie— edited after Ueberweg's death by the Protestant philosopher Max Heinze (1835–1909). In order to disprove any claim to dependence, in this insertion Wehofer greatly emphasized the differences between the Guide and Thomasian philosophy, rather than their agreements, basing himself almost exclusively on Michel's scholarship.65 Wehofer's addition was reprinted without modification in 1905, in the ninth edition of the Grundriss, now under the supervision of the historian of philosophy Matthias Baumgartner from the University of Breslau.66
But interestingly, in a review of the ninth edition, written in 1909, Clemens Baeumker (1853–1924), whom Isaac Husik called in 1911 "probably the greatest living authority on the philosophy of the Middle Ages," severely criticized Wehofer's text and intention.67 Baeumker, a Catholic himself, was well known for his friendly and open approach to Jewish thought. In 1895 he published a widely noted Latin edition of Ibn Gabirol's Fons vitae, and in his monumental monograph on the thirteenth-century scientist and philosopher Witelo, Baeumker referred approvingly to the modern Jewish scholarship of Wissenschaft des Judentums, including that of Julius Fürst, Adolf Jellinek, David Joel, and, most frequently, Jacob Guttmann.68 Wehofer's addition is "unfortunate" [unglücklich], Baeumker wrote in his review of the Grundriss, because nobody can seriously agree [End Page 337] to ridiculous exaggerations like (Moritz Eisler's) "without Maimonides there was no Thomas of Aquinas and no Albertus Magnus," which Baeumker quotes anonymously, however. But to exclusively stress the differences between Maimonides and Thomas would give the reader of the encyclopedia "an absolutely wrong picture of the true facts." Such a negative treatment obscures Thomas's numerous agreements with the Guide, conformities that are often of greater philosophical importance than the subjects where the two thinkers differ. Baeumker then explicitly advised that the "carefully balanced chapter on Maimonides in J. Guttmann's work on the relation of Thomas Aquinas to Judaism and Jewish literature from 1891 should not only have been mentioned in the list of secondary literature, but should have been actually consulted" by Wehofer when he prepared his essay. And if that was not enough, Baeumker went on to add another proof for the "exact identicalness" of a certain argument in Thomas and Maimonides, using Joel's method of detailed textual comparison in parallel printed columns.69
In the tenth edition of the Grundriss, published in 1915, six years after Baeumker's review, the entry about Thomas and Maimonides was indeed rewritten, and for the first time mentioned Jacob Guttmann's scholarship on the subject. But in the meantime another influential study on the subject had appeared, authored by the Swiss Dominican Anselm Rohner (1878–1957), and Rohner's criticism of Guttmann was a welcome excuse for the editor of the Grundriss not to rely on Guttmann's "carefully balanced chapter on Maimonides" as Baeumker had recommended in 1909. Writing in 1913, Rohner ended his detailed study on the problem of divine creation—addressing the relation of Maimonides to both Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas—with several pages of summarizing results. Concerning Albert, Rohner fully agreed with the Jewish scholars before him as to the general conformity of both thinkers. Concerning Thomas, though, Rohner again claimed, "Guttmann has called not enough attention to the diverging points and stressed only that which both have in common. … In addition Guttmann has overemphasized the dependence of St. Thomas on Maimonides, because Thomas has treated the problem of creation far deeper, clearer and more precisely."70 In 1915, then, the editor of the Grundriss claimed that even Guttmann's monograph on the relation between both [End Page 338] philosophers was not balanced enough, as Rohner has shown. What remained was amazement—which had already struck Albert Stöckl fifty years earlier—at the discovery that "Thomas agrees much more with Maimonides than with his great master Albertus," a fact that even Rohner did not deny.71 A few years later, in September 1919, Jacob Guttmann passed away and left behind an academic discipline of philosophical cross-cultural medievalist comparistics that he and Manuel Joel can be said to have first established.
It is beyond the scope of this study to trace this debate into the present day.72 In the first half of the twentieth century, the influence of other Jewish thinkers on Christianity was added to the list, such as that of Abraham Ibn Ezra or of Isaac Israeli. The impact of Maimonides, it was discovered, was much greater than previously thought, for it also included influence on mystical figures such as Meister Eckart. Interestingly, during the 1920s and 1930s German Catholic scholars such as Joseph Koch and Ernst Reffke did not hesitate to emphasize that Meister Eckhart, one of the greatest figures in German cultural heritage, was a disciple of Maimonides.73 But in spite of such developments, it seems that the Jewish–Christian debate on scholasticism is not over yet. The shift between the titles of Avital Wohlman's two recent French monographs, Thomas Aquinas and Maimonides: An Exemplary Dialogue (1988) and Maimonides and Thomas Aquinas: An Impossible Dialogue (1995), might illustrate the complexity of the subject in present research.74 In 2004, the accusation of "plagiarism" (Ideenklau) on the part of Thomas was even renewed by the philosopher Ludger Jansen, [End Page 339] whose conclusions come very close to those of Guttmann and Joel: Maimonides was important to Thomas as an authority on biblical law, but first and foremost as a guide in the double project of a "monotheistic transformation of Aristotelianism," as well as a "Aristotelization of theology."75
In summary, Jewish scholars of the nineteenth century saw the religious differences between Christian and Jewish medieval philosophy as self-evident, but they worked out and stressed the interesting agreements between both schools, particularly in order to strengthen Jewish pride. This academic project proved to be so successful that Christian scholars, especially Catholics, soon realized the need to reestablish a more critical, balanced view of the Jewish influence on scholasticism—that is, the need to again emphasize differences, which no one had thought necessary before the rise of Jewish scholarship on the subject. Jewish scholars thus certainly received a moment of fame, as their narrative was integrated into the mainstream of European scholarship—but precisely therefore it was also exposed to the highest standards of scholarly criticism, which most of it, impressively, survived. [End Page 340]
1. Görge K. Hasselhoff, "The Rediscovery of Maimonidean Influence on Christianity in the Works of Moritz Steinschneider, Manuel Joel, Joseph Perles, and Jacob Guttmann," in Moses Maimonides (1138–1204): His Religious, Scientific, and Philosophical Wirkungsgeschichte, ed. Hasselhoff and Otfried Fraisse (Würzburg: Ergon, 2004), 449–78; Yossef Schwartz, "Eine neuthomistisch-christliche Brücke zum jüdischen Mittelalter: Jacob Guttmanns Darstellung jüdischer und christlicher Philosophien im Mittelalter," in Die Entdeckung des Christentums in der Wissenschaft des Judentums, ed. Hasselhoff (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2010), 239–62. See also Jacob Dienstag, "St. Thomas Aquinas in Maimonidian Scholarship," The Monist 58, no. 1 (1974): 104–18.
2. Manuel Joel, Die Religionsphilosophie des Mose ben Maimon (Breslau: Korn, 1859).
3. Joel, Verha¨ltnis Albert des Grossen zu Maimonides (Breslau: Grass & Barth, 1863).
4. Jacob Guttmann, Das Verha¨ltnis des Thomas von Aquino zum Judenthum (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1891).
5. Cf. Guttmann, "Die Beziehungen des Johannes Duns Scotus zum Judenthum," Monatsschrift für Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums 38, no. 1 (1893): 26–39; Guttmann, "Die Beziehungen des Vincenz von Beauvais zum Judenthum," Monatsschrift 39, no. 5 (1895): 207–21; Guttmann, "Über einige Theologen des Franziskanerordens und ihre Beziehungen zum Judenthum," Monatsschrift 40, no. 7 (1896): 314–29; Guttmann, "Über Jean Bodin in seinen Beziehungen zum Judentum," Monatsschrift 49, no. 3 (1905): 315–48, and Monatsschrift 49, no. 4: 459–89; Guttmann, "Michael Servet in seinen Beziehungen zum Judentum," Monatsschrift 51, no. 1 (1907): 77–94; Guttmann, "Über einige englische Scholastiker des dreizehnten Jahrhunderts in ihren Beziehungen zur jüdischen Literatur," Monatsschrift 62, no. 1 (1918): 16–32.
6. Thus claims Görge K. Hasselhoff in Dicit Rabbi Moyses: Studien zum Bild von Moses Maimonides im lateinischen Westen vom 13. bis zum 15. Jahrhundert (Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2004), 13.
7. On "positive-historical," see Ismar Schorsch, "Zacharias Frankel and the European Origins of Conservative Judaism," Judaism 30 (1981): 344–54.
8. Heinrich Graetz, Geschichte der Juden (Leipzig: Leiner, 1861), 6:xii.
9. Ibid., 7:67.
10. Joel, "Etwas über den Einfluss der jüdischen Philosophie auf die christliche Scholastik," Monatsschrift für Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums 9 (1860): 205–17, at 211. (See Hasselhoff, "Rediscovery," 465.)
11. Ibid. (Cf. Guide of the Perplexed 2:17; English translation by Shlomo Pines [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963], 297–98.)
12. See Schorsch, "Scholarship in the Service of Reform," Leo Baeck Institute Year Book 35 (1990): 73–101.
13. Max Wiener, Jüdische Religion im Zeitalter der Emanzipation (Berlin: Philo, 1933), 176.
14. Joel, Albert, iii. (See Hasselhoff, "Rediscovery," 468–69.)
15. Ibid., iv.
16. Ibid., iv, n2. The reference is to Ernest Renan, Averroes et l'averroisme: Essai historique (Paris: Michel Levy, 1852), 145.
17. Joel, Albert, v–vi.
18. Ibid., xi.
19. Ibid., iii.
20. For a discussion of nineteenth-century receptions of Maimonides's theory of the sacrifices, see George Y. Kohler, Reading Maimonides' Philosophy in 19th Century Germany (Dordrecht: Springer, 2012).
21. Joel, Albert, xiv, n1. The example given is a midrashic saying that appears in Guide 2:36 (trans. Pines, 370): "The dream is a withered fruit fallen from the tree of prophecy" (μwlj hawbn tlbwn, original in Genesis rabbah 17 and 44), which Albert quotes as a saying of anonymous "philosophers."
22. Joel, Albert, xxvi (see below, n51).
23. See Heinrich Ritter, Geschichte der Philosophie (Hamburg: Perthes, 1845), 8:94f.
24. Joel, Albert, xxvii. Cf. Hasselhoff, "Rediscovery," 469.
25. For a summary of Guttmann's work on Maimonides's influence on Christian thought, see his contribution to volume one of the two important volumes published on the occasion of the 700th anniversary of Maimonides's death: Moses Ben Maimon, sein Leben, seine Werke und sein Einfluss, ed. A. Bacher et al. (Leipzig: Gustav Fock, 1908/1914), at 1:135–220.
26. Guttmann, Die Scholastik des dreizehnten Jahrhunderts in ihren Beziehungen zum Judenthum (Breslau: M. & H. Marcus, 1902; repr., Hildesheim: Olms, 1970), 9. This book is primarily a collection of Guttmann's earlier articles on the subject, with an introduction and one new essay on Albertus Magnus.
27. Ibid., 10. (See also Hasselhoff, "Rediscovery," 476.)
28. Guttmann, Thomas, 3. See also below, n56.
29. Ibid., 31. (See also Hasselhoff, "Rediscovery," 475.)
30. Ibid., 36. (Cf. Sa'adia Gaon: The Book of Doctrines and Beliefs, trans. Alexander Altmann [Cambridge: Hackett, 1946], 25–48 and Guide of the Perplexed 1:34; trans. Pines, 74–75.)
31. Guttmann, Thomas, 44.
32. Ibid., 80.
33. Philipp Bloch, "Dr. Manuel Joels schriftstellerische Ta¨tigkeit," Gedenkbla¨tter zur Erinnerung an Dr. Manuel Joel (Breslau: Jacobsohn, 1890), 67.
34. For Moritz Güdemann, see his: Geschichte des Erziehungswesens und der Cultur der abendla¨ndischen Juden (Vienna: Holder, 1884), 2:96–97.
35. See David Kaufmann, Geschichte der Attributenlehre in der jüdischen Religionsphilosophie des Mittelalters (Gotha: Perthes, 1877), 500. See also his "Der Führer Maimunis in der Weltliteratur," first in Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 11 (1898): 335ff.
36. Adolf Jaraczewsky, "Zur Ethik des Maimonides," Zeitschrift für Philosophie und philosophische Kritik 46 (1865): 5–24.
37. Ibid., 18.
38. Moritz Eisler, Vorlesungen über die jüdischen Philosophen des Mittelalters (Vienna: Klemm, 1870), 2:5.
39. For Geiger's anti-Christian intellectual polemics, see, for example, his open letter to the Protestant theologian Heinrich Julius Holtzmann, printed in Das Judenthum und seine Geschichte (Breslau: Schletter, 1865), 185ff., discussed in Susannah Heschel, Abraham Geiger and the Jewish Jesus (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), 206–9; or Abraham Geiger, Über Austritt aus dem Judenthume: Offenes Sendschreiben an M. Maaß, (Breslau: Kern, 1858)—this is Geiger's earlier dispute with the Protestant theologian Martin Maaß.
40. Geiger, "Die protestantische Kirchenzeitung und der Fortschritt im Judenthume," Jüdische Zeitschrift für Wissenschaft und Leben (1863): 81–88, at 86.
41. Geiger, Das Judenthum und seine Geschichte, 2:151.
42. David Yellin and Israel Abrahams, Maimonides, His Life and Works (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1903), 213–14. For the American reception, see also Louis I. Newman, Jewish Influence on Christian Reform Movements (New York: Columbia University Press, 1925), 105–116.
43. Isaac Husik, "An Anonymous Mediæval Christian Critic of Maimonides," Jewish Quarterly Review, new series, vol. 2, no. 2 (Oct. 1911): 159–90, at 165.
44. Ibid., 160.
45. Ibid., 164.
46. For a contemporary discussion of Maimonides and scholasticism, see Hasselhoff, Dicit Rabbi Moyses.
47. "[L]es grand docteurs chrétiens du XIIIe siècle, un Albert le Grand, un saint Thomas d'Aquin, les dans des traductions latines et les citent avec respect et admiration. Son nom, partout répandu, reste un glorieux esprit de modération et de sagesse" / "Maimonide est le précurseur de saint Thomas d'Aquin, et le More Neboukhim annonce et prépare la Summa theologiae." Emile Saisset, "La Philosophie des Juifs, Maı¨monide et Spinoza," Revue de Deux Mondes 15, no. 1 (1862): 296–334, at 300–302.
48. Georg von Hertling, Albertus Magnus: Beitra¨ge zu seiner Würdigung (Cologne: Bachem, 1880), 26n1. In the second edition of the work, published in 1914, Hertling added a reference to Guttmann's 1902 essay on the relation of Maimonides and Albert, which he believes is "more restrained than Joel's" (33).
49. All quotations from Adalbert Merx, Die Prophetie des Joel und ihre Ausleger (Halle: Buchhandlung des Waisenhauses, 1879), 366–67. For the dubiousness of the burning legend, see Yoseph Shatzmiller, "The First Dispute about Maimonides' Writings" [Hebr.], Zion 34 (1969): 126–44.
50. Carl Gustav Siegfried, "Thomas von Aquino als Ausleger des Alten Testaments," Zeitschrift für wissenschaftliche Theologie
51. Joseph Mausbach, "Die Stellung des heiligen Thomas von Aquin zu Maimonides in der Lehre von der Prophetie," Theologische Quartalschrift 81 (1899): 553–79, at 556–57.
52. Probably alluding to Thomas, De aeternitate mundi, 307 (Rome: Marietti, 1948), 107: "Mirum est etiam quomodo nobilissimi philosophorum hanc repugnantiam non viderunt."
53. Joseph Adlhoch, Philosophisches Jahrbuch 5 (1892): 64–70.
54. See Adolf von Harnack, Das Wesen des Christentums (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1900); and Leo Baeck, Das Wesen des Judentums (Berlin: Rathausen & Lamm, 1905).
55. Von Harnack, Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, 3 vols. (Freiburg: Mohr, 1890–94), 3:420n. See also 3:516 for another example of Maimonides's influence on scholasticism.
56. Friedrich Ueberweg, Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie in der scholastischen Zeit (Berlin: Mittler, 1864), 82–83. (See also Hasselhoff, "Rediscovery," 470n130).
57. Albert Stöckl, Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters (Mainz: Kircheim, 1865), 2:559.
58. See Stöckl, "Die thomistische Lehre vom Weltanfang," Der Katholik (1883): 225–41 and 337–61, at 351.
59. Guttmann, Thomas,9.
60. Stöckl, Geschichte, 2:309. See also David Kaufmann's dispute with Stöckl about Maimonides in Kaufmann, Attributenlehre, 471f., n157. Kaufmann refers to Stöckl's Geschichte, 2:272ff. §75.
61. Guttmann, Scholastik des dreizehnten Jahrhunderts,8.
62. See Charles Burnett, "The Coherence of the Arabic–Latin Translation Program in Toledo in the Twelfth Century," Science in Context 14 (2001): 249–88.
63. Anton Michel, "Die Kosmologie des Moses Maimonides und des Thomas von Aquino in ihren gegenseitigen Beziehungen," Philosophisches Jahrbuch (1891): 387–404, and Philosophisches Jahrbuch (1892): 12–25.
64. Ibid., 388.
65. Cf. Ueberweg's Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, 8th ed. (Berlin: Mittler und Sohn, 1898), 2:283f. See Husik, "Anonymous Medi;aeval Christian Critic," 164–65.
66. Cf. Ueberweg's Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, 9th ed. (Berlin: Mittler und Sohn, 1905), 2:310f.
67. Husik, "Anonymous Mediæval Christian Critic," 165–66.
68. Clemens Baeumker, Witelo: Ein Philosoph und Naturforscher des XIII. Jahrhundert s (Münster: Aschendorff, 1908), references to Guttmann on pages 393, 526, 538, and more. See also Baeumker, ed., Avencebrolis Fons vitae, Beitrage zur Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters (Münster: Aschendorff, 1892–95).
69. Baeumker, "Bericht über die Philosophie der europaïschen Völker im Mittelalter 1897–1907," Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 22 (1909): 132–34.
70. Anselm Rohner, Das Schöpfungsproblem bei Moses Maimonides, Albertus Magnus und Thomas von Aquin: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des Schöpfungsproblems im Mittelalter (Münster, 1913), 135–37.
71. Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, ed. M. Baumgartner, 10th ed. (Berlin: Mittler, 1915), 496.
72. For more modern studies see, among others, in German: Wolfgang Kluxen, "Die Geschichte des Maimonides im lateinischen Abendland," Miscellanea Mediaevalia 4 (1966): 164–66. In English, first and foremost the scholarship of the Catholic theologian David B. Burrell, e.g., "Aquinas's Debt to Maimonides," in A Straight Path: Studies in Medieval Philosophy and Culture, ed. Ruth Link-Salinger (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1988), 37–48; but also Bernard McGinn, "Sapienta Judaeorum: The Role of Jewish Philosophers in Some Scholastic Thinkers," in Continuity and Change: The Harvest of Late Medieval and Reformation History, ed. Robert James Bast et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2000), or Mercedes Rubio, Aquinas and Maimonides on the Possibility of the Knowledge of God (Dordrecht: Springer, 2006).
73. Joseph Koch, "Meister Eckhart und die jüdische Religionsphilosophie des Mittelalters," Jahresberichte der schlesischen Gesellschaft für vaterla¨ndische Kultur 101 (1928): 134–48; and Ernst Reffke, "Studien zur Entwicklung Meister Eckharts im Opus tripartitum," Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte 57 (1938): 19–95. See, recently, Schwartz, "Meister Eckhart and Moses Maimonides: From Judaeo-Arabic Rationalism to Christian Mysticism," in A Companion to Meister Eckhart, ed. Jeremiah M. Hackett (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 389–414.
74. Avital Wohlman, Thomas d'Aquin et Maı¨monide: Un dialogue exemplaire (Paris: Cerf, 1988), and Maı¨monide et Thomas d'Aquin: Un dialogue impossible (Fribourg: Editions Universitaires, 1995).
75. Ludger Jansen, "Thomas von Aquin liest Maimonides," Kirche und Israel 19 (2004): 121–38.