Antisemitism

The nativity stories in Matthew and Luke are deeply rooted in Jewish Scripture and Second Temple Judaism. Nevertheless, over the centuries they have accumulated interpretations that portray Jews as cruel, greedy, impure, or spiritually blind. A closer look at familiar claims—from Mary’s supposed threat of being stoned to the caricature of shepherds as social outcasts—shows how antisemitism often enters the Christmas story not through the Gospels themselves, but through their interpretation.

The miracle of the jug of oil lasting eight days is first narrated in the Babylonian Talmud, centuries after the establishment of Chanukah. In 1891 Poland, Chaim Zelig Slonimski, an observant, science-minded Jew, denied the historicity of this miracle, claiming that he was following in the footsteps of Maimonides. Some of his enlightened colleagues—and even some secular Zionists—thought he was endangering people’s connection to Judaism and providing antisemites a pretext to mock the Talmud.

The kingdom of Israel was destroyed in the 8th century B.C.E., but the name Israel lived on. During the Second Temple period, who called themselves Israelites, and who were the Jews? A close look at the Bible, Josephus, and other sources reveals a simple answer—and exposes the anti-Jewish bias behind the infamous “insider/outsider” theory.

Socrates of Constantinople’s account of Syrian Jews crucifying a Christian boy (ca. 415–419), likely during Purim, may have stemmed from a misunderstanding of an enactment of hanging Haman’s effigy. The story went largely unnoticed until the 18^th century, when it began circulating in lists of murder allegations against Jews, most notoriously in Julius Streicher’s list in the May 1934 edition of his tabloid, Der Stürmer.

The gospels present Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator, condemning Jesus to death, and his soldiers crucifying Jesus at the behest of the priests and the Jewish crowd. How, then, did the claim—found even in the Talmud—that the Jews physically crucified Jesus develop?

Esther is the most beloved biblical figure among the crypto-Jews of the Spanish Inquisition—the conversos (fem. conversas)—who publicly converted to Catholicism but lived secretly as Jews. Remarkably, she was also upheld as a heroine among the Catholic-majority communities of early modern Iberia (Spain and Portugal), but for very different reasons.

Julius Wellhausen’s analysis of the Torah is perfused with the anti-Jewish sentiment prevalent in Bismarck’s Second German Reich. This adversely affected the use of the Documentary Hypothesis among Jewish scholars until Yehezkel’s Kaufmann’s introduction of a Jewish variation on the theory.

Esau’s kiss to Jacob is written with scribal dots over the word וַׄיִּׄשָּׁׄקֵ֑ׄהׄוּׄ, “and he kissed him.” Traditional commentators suggest this hints to Esau’s feelings or state of mind. Critical scholarship, however, points to something much more prosaic, a question of syntax.

The book of Esther is a study in antisemitism. It is the only biblical book that portrays antisemitism, and itself has been the subject of criticism with antisemitic overtones. 

19th century Anglo-Jewish translators defended the Israelites’ behavior against the King James translation’s perceived accusation that the Jews “borrowed” the Egyptians belongings and never returned them.

Esau’s plan to kill Jacob and his “dotted” kiss upon their reunion has been cited by rabbinic authorities, such as Rav Moshe Feinstein, as evidence that antisemitism is inherent. This idea is not found in the Torah or the Talmud.

The Book of Esther emphasizes the ongoing obligation to observe Purim, and Maimonides asserts that it will endure even into the messianic age. Yet many modern Jewish thinkers have questioned this holiday’s continued relevance. What value does Purim continue to hold?

The Torah offers two explanations for how Jacob obtained great wealth at his father-in-law’s expense. Quite surprisingly, Shakespeare picked up on this narrative tension and made use of it to create the (in)famous biblically based dialogue between Shylock and Antonio in The Merchant of Venice.

In the Bible, the term “Hebrew” is primarily used as a derogatory racial slur. Why then do even Israelites—as well as God—employ this term?