The influence of Aristotle on Jewish thought, which began as early as Saadia and grew in intensity as the Aristotelian
writings became better known, reached its high water mark in Ibn Daud, Maimonides and Gersonides. To Maimonides
Aristotle was the indisputable authority for all matters pertaining to sublunar existence, but he reserved the right to differ
with the Stagirite when the question concerned the heavenly spheres and the influences derived from them. Hence he
denied the eternity of motion and the fundamental principle at the basis of this Aristotelian idea, that necessity rules all
natural phenomena. In his doctrine of creation in time, Maimonides endeavored to defend God's personality and
voluntary and purposeful activity. For the same reason he defended the institution of miracles. Gersonides went further in
his rationalistic attitude, carried the Aristotelian principles to their inevitable conclusions, and did not shrink from adopting
to all intents and purposes the eternity of the world (strictly speaking the eternity of matter), and the limitation of God's
knowledge to universals. Aristotle's authority was now supreme, and the Bible had to yield to Aristotelian interpretations,
as we have seen abundantly. Maimonides and Gersonides were the great peaks that stood out above the rest; but there
was any number of lesser lights, some who wrote books and still more who did not write, taking the great men as their
models and looking at Jewish literature and belief through Aristotelian spectacles. Intellectualism is the term that best
describes this attitude. It had its basis in psychology, and from there succeeded in establishing itself as the ruling
principle in ethics and metaphysics. As reason and intellect is the distinguishing trait of man—the part of man which
raises him above the beast—and as the soul is the form of the living body, its essence and actuating principle, it was
argued that the most important part of man is his rational soul or intellect, and immortality was made dependent upon
theoretical ideas. Speculative study made the soul; and an intellect thus constituted was immortal, for it was immaterial.
The heavenly world, consisting of the separate Intelligences and culminating in God, was also in its essence reason and
intellect. Hence thought and knowledge formed the essence of the universe. By thought is man saved, and through
thought is he united with the Most High. All else that is not pure thought acquires what value it has from the relation it
bears to thought. In this way were judged those divisions of Judaism that concerned ceremony and ethical practice. Their
value consisted in their function of promoting the ends of the reason.
Judah Halevi, influenced by Al Gazali, had already before Maimonides protested against this intellectualistic attitude in
the name of a truer though more naive understanding of the Bible and Jewish history. But Judah Halevi's nationalism and
the expression of his poetical and religious feelings and ideas could not vie with the dominating personality of
Maimonides, whose rationalistic and intellectualistic attitude swept everything before it and became the dominant mode
of thinking for his own and succeeding ages. It remained for Hasdai Crescas (born in Barcelona, in 1340), who flourished
in Christian Spain two centuries after Maimonides and over a half century after Gersonides, to take up the cudgels again
in behalf of a truer Judaism, a Judaism independent of Aristotle, and one that is based more upon the spiritual and
emotional sides of man and less upon the purely intellectual, theoretical and speculative. Himself devoid of the literary
power and poetic feeling of Judah Halevi, Crescas had this in common with the mediæval national poet that he resented
the domination of Jewish belief and thought by the alien Greek speculation. In a style free from rhetoric, and
characterized rather by a severe brevity and precision, he undertakes to undermine the Aristotelian position by using the
Stagirite's own weapons, logical analysis and proof. His chief work is the "Or Adonai," Light of the Lord.[386]
Agreeing with all other Jewish writers that the existence of God is the basis of Judaism, he sees in this very fact a reason
why this principle cannot be regarded as one of the six hundred and thirteen commandments. For a commandment
implies the existence of one who commands. Hence to regard the belief in the existence of God as a commandment
implies the very thing which the commandment expresses. The existence of God therefore as the basis of all
commandments cannot itself be a commandment. Besides only those things can form the objects of a command which
can be controlled by the will. But a matter of belief like the existence of God is not subject to will, it is a matter of fact and
of proof.[387]
Maimonides, as we know, based his proofs of the existence, unity and incorporeality of God upon twenty-six
philosophical propositions taken from the works of Aristotle and his Arabian interpreters. As he was not writing a book on
general philosophy, Maimonides simply enumerates twenty-five propositions, which he accepts as proved by Aristotle
and his followers. To these he adds provisionally another proposition, number twenty-six, concerning the eternity of
motion, upon which he bases his proof of the existence of God in order to be safe from all criticism. In the sequel he
discusses this last proposition and shows that unlike the other twenty-five, it is not susceptible of rigid demonstration,
and the arguments in favor of the origin of motion and the world in time are more plausible.
Crescas goes further than Maimonides, and controverts most of the other propositions as well, maintaining in particular
against Aristotle and Maimonides that an infinite magnitude is possible and exists actually; that there is an infinite fulness
or void outside of this world, and hence there may be many worlds, and it need not follow that the elements would pour
in from one world into the next, so that all earth should be together in the centre, all fire together in the outer
circumference, and the intermediate elements, air and water, between these two. The elements may stay in their
respective worlds in the places assigned to them. It will not be worth our while to wade through all the technical and hair-
splitting discussions of these points. The results will be sufficient for our purpose.
The proof of the existence of an unmoved mover in Aristotle and Maimonides is based upon the impossibility of a regress
to infinity. If Hasdai Crescas admits the infinite, the Aristotelian proof fails. Similarly God's unity in Maimonides is among
other things based upon the finiteness of the world and its unity. If infinite space is possible outside of this world, and
there may be many worlds, this proof fails for God's unity. So Crescas takes up in detail all the Maimonidean proofs of
the existence, unity and incorporeality of God and points out that they are not valid because in the first place they are
based upon premises which Crescas has refuted, and secondly were the premises granted Maimonides's results do not
follow from them.[388] It remains then for Crescas to give his own views on this problem which, he says, the philosophers
are unable to solve satisfactorily, and the Bible alone is to be relied upon. At the same time he does give a logical proof
which in reality is not different from one of the proofs given by Maimonides himself. It is based upon the distinction
insisted upon by Alfarabi and Avicenna between the "possible existent" and the "necessary existent." Whatever is an
effect of a cause is in itself merely possible, and owes the necessity of its existence to its cause. Now, argues Crescas,
whether the number of causes and effects is finite or infinite, there must be one cause of all of them which is not itself an
effect. For if all things are effects they are "possible existents" as regards their own nature, and require a cause which
will make them exist rather than not. This self-subsisting cause is God.[389]
He then endeavors to prove the unity of God in the two senses of the term; unity in the sense of simplicity, and unity in
the sense of uniqueness. Unity as opposed to composition—the former sense of the term—is neither the same as the
essence of a thing, nor is it an accident added to the essence. It cannot be essence, for in that case all things called one
would have the same essence. Nor is it accident, for that which defines and separates the existing thing is truly called
substance rather than accident; and this is what unity does. Accordingly Crescas defines unity as something essential to
everything actually existing, denoting the absence of plurality. This being true, that existent which is before all others is
most truly called one. Also that being which is most separated from other things is best called one.[390]
Crescas disagrees with Maimonides's opinion that no positive attributes can be applied to God, such as indicate relation
to his creatures, and so on. His arguments are that we cannot avoid relation to creatures even in the term "cause," which
Maimonides admits; and in the attributes of action—the only kind of positive attributes allowed by Maimonides—it is
implied that before a given time God did not do a particular thing, which he did later, a condition in God which
Maimonides will not admit. Besides, if there are no positive attributes, what could be the meaning of the tetragrammaton,
about which Maimonides has so much to say? If it expressed a negative attribute, why was its meaning kept so secret?
Crescas's own view is that there are positive attributes, and that there is a relation between God and his creatures,
though not a similarity, as they are far apart, the one being a necessary existent, the other a possible existent; one being
infinite, the other finite.[391]
We must now try to show that God is one in the sense that there are no other Gods besides. We may proceed as
follows: If there are two Gods, one of them controls only part of the world or he does not control it at all. The first is
impossible because the unitary world must be due to one agent. But there may be more than one world and hence more
than one agent. This is, however, answered by the thought that being infinite in power one could control them all. There
is still another alternative, viz., that one agent controls the whole world and the other does nothing. Here speculation can
go no further, and we must have recourse to Scripture, which says, "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is
One."[392] We see here that Crescas is interested in discrediting the logic chopping of the philosophers. No merely
logical argument, is his idea, can give us absolute certainty even in so fundamental a doctrine as the unity of God. Like
Judah Halevi, Crescas took his inspiration from Algazali, whose point of view appealed to him more than that of
Maimonides and Gersonides, who may be classed with Alfarabi, Avicenna and Averroes.
Having discussed the fundamental principles of all religion and philosophy, namely, the existence and nature of God,
Crescas next takes up the following six fundamental dogmas of Judaism, God's knowledge of existing things, Providence,
Power, Prophecy, Freedom, Purpose.
There are three things to be remembered in the matter of God's knowledge. He knows the infinite, for he knows
particulars. He knows the non-existent, as he knows the future; and his knowledge of the contingent does not remove its
contingent character. Maimonides and Gersonides had difficulty with this problem and we know their respective
solutions. Gersonides, for reasons metaphysical as well as ethical, does not scruple to limit God's knowledge to
universals. Maimonides endeavors to reconcile the dilemma by throwing the blame upon our limited understanding. In
God's knowledge which is toto cœlo different from ours, and of which we have no conception, all oppositions and
contradictions find their ultimate harmony. Crescas, as we might naturally expect, agrees with Maimonides in this matter
rather than with Gersonides. To limit God's knowledge is opposed to the Bible, and would involve us in greater difficulties
than those we endeavor to escape.[393]
Related to the question of God's knowledge is the problem of Providence. For God must know the individual or thing for
which he provides, and if God has no knowledge of particulars, there can be no such thing as special providence. This
latter as we know is virtually the opinion of Gersonides (cf. p. 345). Crescas, we have seen, defends God's knowledge of
particulars, hence he sees no difficulty in special providence on this score. He takes, however, the term in a broad
sense. All evidence of design in nature, all powers in plant and animal which guide their growth, reproduction and
conservation are due to God's providence. Providence, he says, is sometimes exercised by God directly, without an
intermediate voluntary agent, sometimes with such mediation. God's relations to Moses and to the Israelites in Egypt at
the time of the tenth plague were without intermediate agency. In all other cases there is mediation of angels, or
prophets, or wise men, or, according to some, the heavenly bodies, which are living and intelligent beings.
Providence itself is of different kinds. There is the most general and natural exhibited in the equipment of the various
species of plant and animal life for their protection and growth and conservation. There are the more special powers
found in the human race. These forms of providence have little to do with the person's deserts. They are purely
dependent upon the constitution and influence of the stars. Then there is the more special providence of the Jewish
nation, then of the male members of this nation, and of the priests and the levites. Finally comes the special providence
of the individual, who is rewarded and punished according to his conduct. The reward and punishment of this world are
not strictly controlled by conduct, the reward and punishment of the next world are. In this last remark Crescas cuts the
knot which has been the cause of so much discussion in religious philosophy. If the real reward and punishment are in
the next world, the prosperity of the wicked and the adversity of the righteous in this world do not form so great a
problem. At the same time an explanation of this peculiar phenomenon is still wanting. For surely the righteous man does
not deserve to suffer for his righteousness, even though his good deeds will not go unrewarded in the next world. In this
discussion also Crescas takes issue with the intellectualistic point of view of Maimonides and particularly Gersonides.
The solution of these men that evil does not come from God directly but by accident and by reason of matter, and the
corollary drawn therefrom that God does not punish the wicked directly, that he merely neglects them, leaving them to
the accidents of nature and chance, Crescas does not approve. Nor is he more favorably inclined to the theory that the
good man is provided for because the more he cultivates his mind, the more closely he comes in contact with God, in
whom are contained actually all the ideas of which man has some potentially. His main criticism is that the theory is
opposed to clear statements in the Bible, which imply special and individual reward and punishment in a miraculous and
supernatural manner, which cannot be due to intellectual perfection, nor to the order of the heavenly bodies. Besides, if a
man who is highly intellectual did much wrong, he should be punished in his soul, but on the intellectualist theory such a
soul is immortal and cannot be destroyed.
Accordingly Crescas goes back to the religious doctrine of reward and punishment as ordinarily understood. God
rewards and punishes because man obeys or disobeys his will and command. The complaint raised on account of the
misery of the good and the prosperity of the wicked he answers by saying that real reward and punishment are in the
next world. The goods and evils of this world are also to be considered, and he gives the ordinary excuses for the
apparent deviation from what ought to be, such as that evil is sometimes a good in disguise and vice versa; that one
sometimes inherits evil and good from one's parents; that the individual is sometimes involved in the destinies of the
majority, and so on, and so on. Evil in the sense of moral evil, i. e., wrong, does not come from God, it is true, but
punishment does come from God, and as its aim is justice, it is a good, not an evil. The providence extended to Israel is
greatest. There is more Providence in Palestine than elsewhere, not because there is any difference in the relation on
God's side, but there is on the side of the man enjoying this providence. His character and disposition change with the
place, and similarly with the time and the season. Hence certain seasons of the year, like that about the time of the Day
of Atonement, are more propitious for receiving God's providence.[394]
Another fundamental doctrine of Judaism is God's omnipotence. Weakness would be a defect. Hence God can do
everything except the contradictory. His power is infinite not merely in duration, but also in intensity. From Aristotle's
proof of the necessity of an immovable mover as based upon the eternity of motion (p. 256 f.), we gather only that God's
power is infinite in duration; whereas our doctrine of creation ex nihilo shows that there is no relation at all between
God's power and the work he does; hence his power is infinite. This is shown also in the miracles, some of which took
place instantaneously, as the destruction of the first born in Egypt at midnight precisely. Crescas insists that the ass of
Balaam did speak, and refers with disapproval to those who doubt it and say it was in a vision (Gersonides).[395]
In his discussion of Prophecy the interest lies once more in his anti-intellectualistic attitude. Maimonides agrees with the
philosophers that the prophetic power is a psychological process attainable by the man who in addition to moral
perfection possesses a highly developed intellect and power of imagination. To anticipate the objection that if this be so,
why are there no prophets among the philosophers, Maimonides adds that divine grace is necessary besides, and that if
this is lacking, one may have all the qualifications and yet not be a prophet. Crescas sees the forced nature of this
explanation, and once more frankly returns to the plain intent of Scripture and Jewish tradition that the prophet is the man
chosen by God because he is a student of the Torah and follows its commandments, and because he cleaves to God
and loves him. The prophet receives his inspiration from God directly or through an intermediate agent, and the
information received may concern any topic whatsoever. It is not to be limited to certain topics to the exclusion of others,
as Gersonides tries to make out; and its purpose is to give guidance to the prophet himself or to others through him.[396]
The most original contribution of Crescas to philosophical theory is his treatment of the ever living problem of freedom.
So fundamental has it seemed for Judaism to maintain the freedom of the will that no one hitherto had ventured to doubt
it. Maimonides no less than Judah Halevi, and with equal emphasis Gersonides, insist that the individual is not
determined in his conduct. This seemed to be the only way to vindicate God's justice in reward and punishment. But the
idea of man's freedom clashed with the doctrine of God's omniscience. If nothing in the past determines a man's will in a
given case, then up to the moment of the act it is undetermined, and no one can know whether a given act will take place
or its opposite. On the other hand, if God does know everything in the future as well as in the past, man is no longer free
to act in a manner contrary to God's foreknowledge. This difficulty was recognized by Maimonides as well as by
Gersonides, and they solved it in different ways. Maimonides gives up neither God's omniscience nor man's absolute
freedom, and escapes the dilemma by taking refuge in his idea of God's transcendence. Human knowledge is
incompatible with human freedom; God's knowledge is not like human knowledge, and we have no conception what it is.
But it is consistent with human freedom. Gersonides, who objects to Maimonides's treatment of the divine attributes, and
insists that they must resemble in kind though not in degree the corresponding human attributes, can avoid the difficulty
only by a partial blunting of the sharp points of either horn of the dilemma. Accordingly he maintains freedom in all its
rigor, and mitigates the conception of omniscience. God's omniscience extends only to the universal and its
consequences; the contingent particular is by definition not subject to foreknowledge, and hence it argues no defect in
God's knowledge if it does not extend to the undetermined decisions of the will.
Crescas embraces the other horn of the dilemma. God's omniscience must be maintained in all its rigor. It is absurd to
suppose that the first universal and absolute cause should be ignorant of anything pertaining to its effects. Is man then
not free? Has he no choice at all, no freedom in the determination of his conduct? If so how justify God's reward and
punishment, if reward and punishment are relative to conduct and imply responsibility? Crescas's answer is a
compromise. Determinism is not fatalism. It does not mean that a given person is preordained from eternity to act in a
given way, no matter what the circumstances are. It does not mean that command and advice and warning and education
and effort and endeavor are useless and without effect. This is contradicted by experience as well as by the testimony of
Scripture. But neither is it true on the other hand that a person's will and its conduct are causeless and undetermined
until the moment of action. This idea is equally untrue to reason and experience. We know that every effect has a cause
and the cause has a cause, and this second cause has again a cause, until we reach the first necessary cause. Two
individuals similar in every respect would have the same will unless there is a cause which makes them different. We
have already intimated that God's foreknowledge, which we cannot deny, is incompatible with absolute freedom, and in
the Bible we have instances of God's knowing future events which are the results of individual choice, as in the case of
Pharaoh. The only solution then is that the act of will is in a sense contingent, in a sense determined. It is contingent in
respect to itself, it is determined by its cause, i. e., the act is not fated to take place, cause or no cause. If it were
possible to remove the cause, the act would not be; but given the cause, the effect is necessary. Effort is not in vain, for
effort is itself a cause and determines an effect. Commandments and prohibitions are not useless, for the same reason.
Reward and punishment are not unjust, even though antecedent causes over which man has no control determine his
acts, any more than it is unjust that fire burns the one who comes near it, though he did so without intention. Reward and
punishment are a necessary consequence of obedience and disobedience.
This is a bold statement on the part of Crescas, and the analogy between a man's voluntary act in ethical and religious
conduct and the tendency of fire to burn irrespective of the person's responsibility in the matter can be valid only if we
reduce the ethical and religious world to an impersonal force on a plane with the mechanism of the physical world order.
This seems a risky thing to do for a religionist. And Crescas feels it, saying that to make this view public would be
dangerous, as the people would find in it an apology for evil doers, not understanding that punishment is a natural
consequence of evil. This latter statement Crescas does not wish to be taken in its literal strictness, nor should the
analogy with the burning fire be pressed too far. For it would then follow even if a person is physically compelled to do
evil that he would be punished, just as the fire would not refrain from burning a person who was thrown into it by force.
The determination of the will, he says, must not be felt by the agent as a constraint and compulsion, else the act is not
free and no punishment should follow; for command and prohibition can have no effect on a will constrained. Reward and
punishment have a pedagogical value generally, even if in a given case they are not deserved. Even though in reality
every act is determined, still where there is no external compulsion the person is so identified with the deed that it is in a
real sense the product of his own soul, bringing about a union with, or separation from God; and hence reward and
punishment are necessarily connected with it. Where there is external compulsion, on the other hand, the act is not in
reality his own and hence no reward or punishment.
The question arises, however, why should there be punishment for erroneous belief and opinion? These have nothing to
do with the will, and are determined if anything is, i. e., the person having them is constrained to believe as he does by
the arguments, over which he has no control. This matter offers no difficulty to those who, like Maimonides and
Gersonides, regard intelligence as the essence of the soul, and make immortality dependent upon intellectual ideas. A
soul acquiring true ideas, they say, becomes ipso facto immortal. It is not a question of right and wrong or of reward and
punishment. But this is not the Biblical view, and if it were true, there would be no need of the many ceremonial
regulations. Geometry would play a gre