Hebrew Psalms and the Utrecht Psalter: Veiled Origins 9780271092720

Citation preview

Hebrew Psalms and the Utrecht Psalter

Pa m e l a B e r g e r

HeBrew PsAlms and the Utrecht PsAlter

Veiled Origins

The Pennsylvania State University Press University Park, Pennsylvania

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Berger, Pamela C., author. Title: Hebrew Psalms and the Utrecht psalter : veiled origins / Pamela Berger. Description: University Park, Pennsylvania : The Pennsylvania State University Press, [2020] | includes bibliographical references and index. Summary: “Advances the hypothesis that the ninth-century illustrations in the Utrecht Psalter reflect a late antique illustrated Hebrew version of the Psalms, a departure from the commonly accepted view of the origin of the Utrecht images”—Provided by publisher. Identifiers: LCCN 2019047163 | ISBN 9780271084770 (cloth) Subjects: LCSH : Utrecht psalter—Illustrations. | Bible. Psalms—Illustrations. | Psalters—Illustrations. | Illumination of books and manuscripts, Carolingian. | Illumination of books and manuscripts, Medieval. Classification: LCC ND 3357.U 8 B 47 2020 | DDC 745.6/70949232—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019047163 Copyright © 2020 Pamela Berger All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America Published by The Pennsylvania State University Press, University Park, PA 16802-1003

The Pennsylvania State University Press is a member of the Association of University Presses. It is the policy of The Pennsylvania State University Press to use acid-free paper. Publications on uncoated stock satisfy the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Material, ansi z 39.48–1992. Frontispiece: Psalm 1, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 1v; detail appears on page 7.

To Ann Marie and Dave with great fondness

Contents List of Illustrations ix Acknowledgments xiii List of Abbreviations xv Introduction 1 1 Methodology and the Example of Psalm 1 7 2 Analysis of the Pictorial Motifs in Selected Utrecht Psalter Illustrations 15 3 Late Antique Galilee: The Context for the Creation of the Model for the Utrecht Psalter Illustrations 113 4 The Style of the Utrecht Psalter and Its Relation to Late Antique Jewish Art 127 Conclusions 145 Notes 153 Bibliography 181 Index 195

Illustrations Plates (following page 112) 1a. Ezekiel’s vision of national life restored, Dura Europos synagogue

5. River god on a water beast, House of Leontis, Beth Shean, Israel Museum of Jerusalem

1b. Ezekiel and the dismembered having been reconstituted, Dura Europos synagogue

5a. Odysseus and a Siren riding an ichthyocentaur, House of Leontis, Beth Shean, Israel Museum of Jerusalem

2. Sun god in zodiac wheel with four seasons, Hammat Tiberias synagogue

5b. Ichthyocentaur, Utrecht Psalter, Psalm 148, fol. 82v

2a. Virgo sign holding flaming torch, Hammat Tiberias synagogue

5c. River god on a water beast, Utrecht Psalter, Psalm 97/98, fol. 56v

2b. Sun god, Hammat Tiberias synagogue

6. Zeus in the guise of a swan approaching Leda, catacombs of Beth Sheʿarim

2c. Personification of spring, Hammat Tiberias synagogue 2d. Libra sign, Hammat Tiberias synagogue 2e. Panel with Jewish symbols, Hammat Tiberias synagogue 3. Sun riding in a chariot, Sepphoris synagogue 3a. Scorpio sign, Sepphoris synagogue 3b. Servants in “Binding of Isaac” panel, Sepphoris synagogue 4. Christ as sun god, tomb of the Julii beneath St. Peter’s Basilica

7. Consecration of the Temple, Dura Europos synagogue 8. King David raised up on a shield, Paris Psalter, fol. 6v 9. Egypt in the guise of Terra or Earth Mother, Nile Festival Building, Sepphoris 10. Virgo/Betulah at the bottom of the zodiac wheel, Utrecht Psalter, Psalm 64/65, fol. 36r 11. “Dionysiac Procession,” House of Dionysos, Sepphoris

12. Nilotic scenes that replaced the Dionysiac mosaic, House of Dionysos, Sepphoris

Figures 1. Psalm 4, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 2v 15

12a. Female head among acanthus leaves, House of Dionysos, Sepphoris

2. Psalm 7, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 4r 19

13. Hebrews departing from Egypt, Dura Europos synagogue

3. Psalm 9 in the Latin, Psalms 9 and 10 in the Hebrew, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 5r 21

14. Pharaoh’s drowning soldiers, Dura Europos synagogue

3a. Psalm 9 in the Latin, Psalms 9 and 10 in the Hebrew, detail 22

15. Pharaoh’s army cast into the sea, Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue

3b. Psalm 9 in the Latin, Psalms 9 and 10 in the Hebrew, detail 22

15a. Building of the Tower of Babel, Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue

4. Psalm 10/11, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 6r 23

15b. Samson fighting the Philistines, Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue 15c. Pharaoh’s army cast into the sea, detail: fish, Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue 16. Meeting of the commander and the priest, Huqoq synagogue 16a. Commander’s face, detail, Huqoq synagogue 16b. Drowning of Pharaoh’s soldiers, detail: fish, Huqoq synagogue 16c. Fish, detail, Utrecht Psalter, Psalm 138/139, fol. 78r 17. Exodus from Egypt, detail: portal of Egypt, Dura Europos synagogue

5. Psalm 11/12, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 6v 25 6. Psalm 15/16, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 8r 27 6a. Psalm 15/16, detail 28 7. Psalm 16/17, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 8v 31 8. Psalm 17/18, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 9r 33 9. Psalm 18/19, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 10v 35 10. Psalm 21/22, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 12r 39 11. Psalm 24/25, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 14r 45 12. Psalm 25/26, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 14v 47 13. Psalm 29/30, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 16v 48 14. Psalm 36/37, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 21r 50

18. Face on water skin, detail, Utrecht Psalter, Psalm 145/146, fol. 81v

15. Psalm 40/41, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 24r 51

19. Water organist and horn player, Roman villa, Nennig, Germany

15a. Psalm 40/41, detail 52

19a. Man playing a water organ, terra-cotta lamp, British Museum

x · Illustrations

16. Psalm 41/42, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 24v 54 17. Psalm 47/48, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 27v 56

18. Psalm 49/50, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 28v 57

35. Psalm 115/116, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 67r 95

19. Psalm 54/55, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 31r 59

36. Psalm 118/119, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 68v 99

20. Psalm 56/57, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 32r 61 21. Psalm 57/58, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 32v 63 22. Psalm 62/63, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 35r 65 23. Psalm 64/65, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 36r 67 24. Psalm 67/68, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 37v 71 24a. Psalm 67/68, detail 71 25. Psalm 71/72, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 40v 76 26. Psalm 73/74, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 42r 79 26a. Psalm 73/74, detail 79 27. Psalm 78/79, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 46v 81

36a. Psalm 118/119, detail 99 37. Psalm 119/120, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 71v 101 38. Psalm 136/137, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 77r 103 38a. Psalm 136/137, detail 104 39. Psalm 138/139, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 78r 106 40. Psalm 140/141, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 79r 107 40a. Psalm 140/141, detail 107 41. Psalm 145/146, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 81v 109 42. Psalm 150, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 83r 110 42a. Psalm 150, detail 110

28. Psalm 83/84, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 49r 82 29. Psalm 94/95, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 55v 85 30. Psalm 105/106, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 61v 86 31. Psalm 108/109, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 64r 87 32. Psalm 109/110, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 64v 89 33. Psalm 112/113, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 66r 91 34. Psalm 113 in the Latin, Psalms 114 and 115 in the Hebrew, Utrecht Psalter, fol. 66r 93

Illustrations · xi

Acknowledgments I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to two outstanding scholars: Avner Ash and Barry Dov Walfish. When I first became intrigued by the idea of looking at the illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter through the lens of the Hebrew text of the Psalms, I turned to Avner, a scholar of the Hebrew language as well as a mathematician by profession. He kindly welcomed me into his study and confirmed my earliest hunches with his expert reading of passages of the Psalms, the Jewish commentary on the Psalms, and the Talmud. I benefited enormously from discussing with him the roots of certain Hebrew words and how they differed from the Latin. It was with Avner’s encouragement that I began to formulate the hypothesis that a late antique illustrated Hebrew book of Psalms stood behind the Carolingian manuscript of the Utrecht Psalter. His initial help launched me on this exciting journey. At a certain point I had the Aha-Erlebnis that accompanies really exciting research—that my hunch was actually provable: the Hebrew text of the Psalms could have served as the inspiration for the literal motifs that appear in the Utrecht Psalter illustrations. When I realized that this material would result in a book, I sought the help of Barry Dov Walfish, a specialist in medieval Jewish intellectual history and the interpretation of the Hebrew Bible. His scholarly

feedback and sage advice stoked my enthusiasm. He corroborated many of my hunches and gave solid support to my arguments when I was right. And when I was wrong, he tactfully and unequivocally pointed that out. Barry tirelessly went over each of my analyses of the Hebrew text and directed me away from several pitfalls. His contribution to my work has been vital, and I want to thank him here for his valuable help. Needless to say, all opinions and final analyses in this book are based on my own judgment, and I take full responsibility for all interpretations. Several archaeologists have shared their most exciting recent discoveries with me. The mosaics they have excavated over the last few years serve to corroborate my hypothesis that Jewish art, particularly as revealed in the mosaic floors of the late antique synagogues in Galilee, has stylistic, iconographic, and compositional similarities to the imagery of the Utrecht Psalter. Each succeeding campaign has brought forth more images that exhibit stylistic and iconographic affinities with what must have been the ultimate model for the Carolingian manuscript. These similarities, plus the fact that the drawings and the text of the Utrecht Psalter came to Reims separately and were only combined in the scriptorium there, opened the possibility that the Hebrew text, rather than the Latin, could have served as inspiration for the illustrations.

I wish to thank Uzi Leibner, Zeev Weiss, and Jodi Magness (as well as Jim Haberman, the photographer at Huqoq) for allowing me to use the photos of the astounding mosaics they have uncovered. Nina Bodganovsky, Adeane Bregman, and Anne Kenny, all members of the expert staff of research librarians at Boston College, helped me in a myriad of ways. They assiduously checked sources, provided bibliography, and secured books and articles I needed from far and wide. I owe them a debt of gratitude. Andrea Frank, the curator of visual resources in the Art, Art History, and Film Department at Boston College, made an enormous effort to guide me through all the technicalities of gathering high-quality digital images. Andrea’s patience and dedication to excellence are deeply appreciated. Frans Sellies at the Utrecht University Library also gave me invaluable help. He made certain that all the images of the Utrecht Psalter that I ordered were of the highest possible quality. I am most grateful for his careful attention to detail throughout this process. I also want to thank Marian Rogers for the outstanding job she did copyediting my entire manuscript, notes and all. Four undergraduate research assistants worked with me over the last few years: Michael Proietta, Ella Morgan, Matthew DiBenedetto, and John Sipp. They have each done important work, from checking bibliography and ancient sources to ferreting out articles that proved helpful. I am grateful to Boston College for supplying the funds that supported their work through the Undergraduate Research Fellowship Program. I also appreciate the support Boston College has given me through a number of research expense grants that allowed me to purchase the important books needed for this study and some of the photographs for this volume.

xiv · Acknowledgments

And I especially thank the Mary Pasquesi Fund for affording me the means to pay for a number of the digital images in the book. Several institutions gave freely of their digital images, and I greatly appreciate their generosity: Yale University sent me the photos of the mural paintings from the synagogue of Dura Europos; the Center for Jewish Art provided me with images of the floor mosaic from the synagogue at Hammat Tiberias; and the Israel Antiquities Authority gave me the use of images from the House of Leontis at Beth Shean. I thank them for their important contribution to this book. Friends too numerous to mention have shown that they can be interested in as esoteric a topic as late antique and Carolingian manuscript illustration. While I was writing this book, my wonderful group of friends and colleagues both at Boston College and in and around Boston and Cambridge provided stimulation and collegiality, often around food and wine. On a personal level, I am most grateful to my husband, Alan Berger. This book has benefited enormously from the suggestions he proffered and from his stalwart support. I also want to thank my far-ranging extended family and especially all the family’s little children, who have provided amusement and diversion over the years. Among the festive songs they have learned to sing is Psalm 133, “How good and pleasant it is for brothers and sisters to live together in harmony”—one of the many verses that make it a joy to work on the Psalms.

Abbreviations

Athanasius, Exp. in Ps. Athanasius, Expositiones in Psalmos



Augustine, En. Ps. Augustine, Ennarations on the Psalms



BDB The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and



English Lexicon

Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps. Cassiodorus, Explanation of the Psalms

Chrysostom, Comm. in Ps. John Chrysostom, Commentary on the Psalms









Eusebius, Comm. in Ps. Eusebius, Commentary on the Psalms

JPS The Holy Scriptures according to the Masoretic

Text: A New Translation (The Jewish Publication Society, 1917)

Midr. Teh. Midrash Tehillim, or Midrash on Psalms

NJPS Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures; The New JPS Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text

PG J.-P. Migne, ed., Patrologiae Cursus Completus, Series Graeca

Introduction The book of Psalms is specifically named as a book of David in one of the texts from Qumran deriving from about 152 BCE . Along with other books from the “Writings,” it was most likely canonized toward the end of the Second Temple period.1 It is mentioned in the gospel of Luke (24:44), which speaks of the “Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms.” Thirty-nine scrolls of the Psalms, dating from the third century BCE to the second century CE, were among the manuscripts found at Qumran and other Judean desert sites.2 Since this number exceeds that of any other book, one can assume that the Psalms were one of the most popular biblical texts of the period, as they are today. At some time between 816 and 835, a Latin book of Psalms illustrated with pen-and-ink drawings was produced in a workshop at the abbey of Hautvillers near Reims, France.3 The manuscript, known as the Utrecht Psalter, contains a text based on Jerome’s second translation of the Greek Septuagint into Latin, a version called the Gallican.4 The illustrations in the manuscript are drawn in a fresh and spontaneous style reminiscent of Hellenistic art.5 They are, for the most part, literal renditions of individual words or phrases in the Psalms. Scholars have assumed that the words of the Latin text are the basis for those literal renditions.6 My research suggests a different possibility.

One of the important findings that prompted me to undertake this study is Koert van der Horst’s discovery that the Psalter’s Latin text is derived from a different source than are the images.7 Building on observations made by E. T. DeWald, Van der Horst recognized that there were erasures on the first few folios, erasures indicating that the artist had made mistakes at the beginning.8 Van der Horst’s analysis of what we can learn from those mistakes reveals that the artist who drew the illustrations on the first folios did not have before him the combined text and illustrations, but rather two independent sources. One was a ninth-century Gallican Latin version of the Psalms.9 The other source was an “earlier, perhaps much earlier psalter, or loose sheets of drawings based on earlier traditions.”10 The knowledge that the drawings were not of necessity linked to the Utrecht text bears directly on my hypothesis. Since the illustrations were not necessarily allied with the Latin text, they could have been created with a different text at hand. I propose that this text was the original Hebrew version of the Psalms. Since the 1930s scholars have accepted the hypothesis that the Utrecht illustrations were copied from an earlier source or from a variety of sources stemming from the fourth or fifth century CE .11 Suzy Dufrenne has shown that the majority of the motifs and iconographic

formulae are derived from late antique fourthor fifth-century imagery and are not found in Carolingian art.12 Almost all scholars have assumed that the lost late antique model was created in a Christian milieu.13 Dufrenne pointed out, however, that the Christian scenes were inserted into the illustrations and were not present in the Utrecht model.14 They display the cross and/or instruments of the passion, the crucifixion of a saint, or the bathing of the Christ child. Dufrenne proposed that such scenes were added in the Carolingian period, a suggestion that scholars have accepted.15 Van der Horst’s acknowledgment that the text and illustrations could have come from different sources, and Dufrenne’s observation that the model did not have Christological scenes, opened up the possibility that the model for the Utrecht imagery could have been other than a Christian manuscript. It could have been an illustrated Hebrew manuscript executed for a Jewish clientele. That is the possibility I explore in this book. The issue is complex. The idea that Jewish illustrated manuscripts might have stood behind some of the extant Christian biblical manuscripts has interested scholars for decades. Kurt Weitzmann was the main proponent of the theory.16 He hypothesized that the Vienna Genesis and the Middle Byzantine Octateuchs may have gone back to late antique Jewish pictorial sources.17 He pointed to features of Byzantine manuscripts that incorporated elements of Jewish legends taken from the books of Genesis and Exodus.18 He also proposed that the frescoes in the synagogue of Dura Europos must ultimately have been based on Jewish illustrated manuscripts, though he later modified his opinion and suggested that the models could have been created in either a Jewish or a Christian milieu.19 Other scholars accepted Weitzmann’s theory about the existence

2 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

of illustrated late antique Jewish manuscripts and developed it further.20 There has also been opposition to Weitzmann’s views.21 However, in this decades-long debate, a number of scholars have accepted the theory that Jewish models may have stood behind some medieval Christian manuscripts.22 Other scholars, such as Jas Elsner, question the very legitimacy of defining categories such as “Early Christian Art” or “Late Antique Jewish Art.”23 Elsner has argued that in the religious pluralism of the Roman Empire, religious arts, whether Christian, Jewish, or pagan, should not be viewed as independent of each other. Both Jews and Christians drew on the dominant Greco-Roman culture, and, over several centuries, a cross-fertilization ensued wherein the styles, and in some cases the iconography, were shared by the various religions and cults. Elsner goes so far as to question whether the cross or the menorah reflected the Christian or Jewish religion exclusively. It is true that in late antiquity the religious boundaries may have been less fixed and identities more fluid. Both Jewish and Christian art shared iconographic as well as stylistic elements with Roman art. For that reason I will use only definitive examples of late antique Jewish art from synagogues and funerary settings when I make iconographic comparisons with the Utrecht Psalter imagery. What has prompted my study of this issue is the fact that only the Hebrew text of the Psalms and/or its ancient Jewish commentary—the Midrash Tehillim, or Midrash on Psalms—can explain many of the puzzling or obscure motifs in the Utrecht Psalter. (The word midrash refers to a commentary on a biblical text. In this book I will be using the word to refer exclusively to the Midrash on Psalms.) One of the main points of the debate surrounding the idea of Jewish sources for Christian book illustration has been

whether or not the writings of the church fathers, who were familiar with Jewish literature, could have been responsible for the midrashic motifs uncovered in Early Christian art. With this in mind, I have consulted the patristic commentaries on the Psalms.24 At one point, for instance, I saw that the Hebrew reflected a motif that was not illuminated by the Latin text, but it could be explained by a comment in the writings of one of the church fathers, so I discarded that example.25 DeWald pointed out that there is at least one instance (Psalm 119/120) where the Latin does not correspond with the image, but the Greek Septuagint illuminates it.26 The Hebrew text accounts for that motif as well. Since my interest is in showing that the original Hebrew text must have been the inspiration for the imagery, whether or not the Greek reflected the same image is not relevant to my hypo­thesis. Hence, in the following chapters I will argue that when a motif or scene in the Utrecht Psalter specifically reflects the Hebrew text or the Jewish commentary, as opposed to the Latin text or the patristic sources, one must address the question of a possible Jewish source. In this effort to show that many of the puzzling motifs in the Utrecht Psalter can be explained by the Hebrew text or the Jewish commentary, we should keep in mind that there is no one Jewish translation of the Hebrew Bible.27 I will show that sometimes a visual motif in the Utrecht Psalter will accord perfectly with one particular meaning of a Hebrew word, a meaning that may not be accepted by contemporary scholarship. If the Utrecht motif accords with that rare meaning, there is a good chance that that meaning was known in the third through the fifth century, when the model was illustrated. If my hypothesis is accepted, it could provide new information about the interpretations of certain Hebrew words during what

is called the Amoraic period of ancient Jewish scholarship (ca. 200 CE –ca. 500 CE ). The major Jewish commentary on the Psalms, the Midrash, itself offers a plethora of diverse translations and interpretations of many of the words and verses. I will show that a number of the midrashic interpretations and legends influenced the iconography of the model of the Utrecht Psalter.28 Though the Midrash on Psalms was compiled at various times, much of it was known in some form in late antiquity, the time when the model for the Utrecht Psalter was illustrated.29 Some of the earliest sayings in the Midrash are reported to go back to Hillel and Shammai in the first century BCE . More first- and second-century rabbis are cited in the Midrash than from other periods, and no authorities from the post-Talmudic period are mentioned by name.30 Furthermore, the Midrash on Psalms contains frequent references to Roman rulers from the second through the fourth century. It cites Hadrian’s persecutions of the Jews (123–35 CE ) as well as events during the reign of the emperor Diocletian (284–305 CE ). Therefore it is most probable that large parts of the Midrash on Psalms were known in oral or written form from the third through the fifth century. Palestine was its likely place of origin, since most of the rabbis whose names are mentioned are from there, though a few from Babylonia are included.31 Consequently, one can conclude that, whether in oral or written form, many of the legends and interpretations in the Midrash on Psalms reflected in the Utrecht Psalter were part of rabbinic and popular discourse in late antique Roman Palestine and could have been known to those who advised on and/or created an illustrated Hebrew version of the Psalms. When neither the Latin text nor the patristic sources, nor the Hebrew text nor the Jewish commentary, illuminates a motif, one can

Introduction · 3

sometimes turn to the Aramaic Targum to find an appropriate meaning to clarify the image.32 Aramaic was one of the tongues spoken by Jews in Roman Palestine, and many of the inscriptions on the late antique synagogue mosaics are in Aramaic. I will show that in several cases, the Aramaic Targum could have influenced the creation of a motif accompanying the Hebrew text of a psalm. It was Hebrew, however, that remained the written language of “high culture,” serving as the medium for liturgical and theological texts, for Bible study, and most importantly, for the Mishnah (the collection of precepts that form the basis of the Talmud and embody the contents of the oral law).33 In addition to my observation that the Hebrew text and the Midrash illuminate puzzling motifs in the Utrecht Psalter, I have been encouraged in this study by new archaeological material that has emerged in the Galilee, a region to which many Jews migrated in the second and third centuries. Recent excavations of Galilean late antique synagogue pavements have revealed mosaic panels that share stylistic affinities with the Utrecht Psalter illustrations, particularly in respect to composition, figure style, modeling, and rendering of space. In 2010 Uzi Leibner and Shulamit Miller published the preliminary results of their excavation of the synagogue at Khirbet Wadi Hamam.34 There they uncovered rectangular panels featuring brief motifs spread over the surface of the composition. The figures are standing on a few layers of tesserae creating lines suggestive of landscape contours, just as we have in the Utrecht Psalter. One of the mosaicists exhibits a volumetric style, with well-modeled forms, and figures more or less correctly proportioned, as are those in the Utrecht Psalter.35 The structures pictured in the mosaics are much too small in relation to the figures, another feature shared with the Utrecht Psalter illustrations.36 4 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

Some of the same qualities are present in the mosaics from the synagogue of Huqoq, which likewise, at this writing, are not yet fully published and still in the process of being excavated.37 Jodi Magness and her team have uncovered both biblical and extrabiblical scenes that, like those at Khirbet Wadi Hamam, are composed in rectangular panels displaying motifs scattered throughout the compositional field. The artists created figures, objects, and structures that stand on briefly rendered groundlines meant to indicate different levels of the landscape, as at Wadi Hamam and in the Utrecht Psalter.38 The lively gestures of some of the figures in the Huqoq mosaics are akin to those in the Utrecht Psalter, where the figures gesticulate energetically. As in the Psalter, the Huqoq synagogue iconography also has pagan motifs, including atlas figures and winged putti holding roundels with theater masks, a motif usually associated with Dionysos, the god of wine and theater performances.39 The lines defining the forms, as well as the modeling of some of the figures at Huqoq and Wadi Hamam, point to the work of expert mosaicists whose drawing and modeling skills were of high quality. It is to be remembered that the mosaicists practicing their art in the Galilee first drew their forms on the plaster in the bedding of the floor.40 Two layers of plaster were set down. On the lower layer the artists painted the preliminary sketch or the general outlines. On the upper layer they made a detailed color rendering to indicate where the tesserae of different hues would be placed.41 So the artist drawing on the plaster would have had to indicate not only the lines of the forms, but also the colors that would give a sense of volume to the figures. We know that the Galilean artists were working from model books, since the same motifs turn up in several venues.42 Those model books would have been made of papyrus or parchment.

Since these drawing and modeling techniques are transferable, the motifs sketched on the plaster would have been drawn and modeled much as in an illustrated book, though a book would have been done with much more care. The quality of the mosaics in the Galilee, especially those newly uncovered, indicates that the artists who worked on these late antique Galilean synagogue pavements belonged to a skilled group of craftsmen. The same artistic talent, I suggest, would have been available in late antique Galilee for the creation of illustrations accompanying a Hebrew book of Psalms. Other synagogue floors besides Wadi Hamam and Huqoq can also be evoked in relation to a possible Jewish source for the Carolingian manuscript model. Hammat Tiberias and Sepphoris likewise exhibit a significant degree of naturalism, though the Sepphoris figures and landscapes are more patterned. They also portray three-dimensional figures wearing fairly well-modeled garments. In addition, both of those synagogues, along with several others, reveal iconographic motifs that are the same as or similar to those in the Utrecht Psalter, such as the sun god, the zodiac wheel, and the personified seasons. Mythological figures and personifications were adopted into Jewish art, even in a funerary context. I will argue that the late antique imagery in synagogue mosaics and funerary sculpture often provides an enhanced understanding of the motifs in the Utrecht Psalter illustrations, motifs that the Latin text leaves vague or inexplicable. Though the rabbis as a group were probably not involved with the practical work of the artists, some of the sages were acquainted with the skills the artists would need, and some rabbis were knowledgeable about their craft. A long section in the Midrash on Psalms sets forth many aspects of an artist’s work. The passage shows that the rabbis were familiar with the tasks of

the professional artist who “cannot paint unless he has many pigments,” “can make nothing at all except by hard work,” and “cannot draw a figure all at once, only little by little.”43 Concerning an artist’s work, the rabbis tell us that “he sells it, and makes his living by it.” They remarked upon artists’ painting on walls and designing mosaics, and they did not object to those endeavors.44 One has to conclude that the role of the professional artist was not unfamiliar to Jewish sages. The question of whether or not a sage might have collaborated on the creation of the literal motifs for an illustrated Hebrew book of Psalms cannot really be known, but I believe that since the imagery displays a great depth of understanding of the different meanings of the words, as well as a solid grasp of the content of the Midrash, there is a good chance that a sage would have been at hand to advise on the imagery. In the first part of this book I undertake a close analysis of the iconographic imagery of about forty psalms in relation to the Hebrew text, the Midrash on Psalms, the Aramaic Targum, and, on occasion, the Talmud. I will also draw upon comparisons to late antique Jewish art created in Roman Palestine. I will then focus on the Galilee, where most Jews of Palestine lived from the late third through the sixth century. The region was characterized by an extraordinary artistic ebullience during that time. In the Galilean towns the conditions prevailed for a wealthy aristocratic clientele to act as patrons for the visual arts.45 The prosperity and newly revealed artistic richness of the Galilee is a strong argument for the possibility that an illustrated manuscript of this scope and grandeur could have been created there. After discussing the iconographic imagery, I will focus on the artistic styles in late antique Galilee, with an emphasis on synagogue and Jewish funerary art exhibiting the “Hellenistic” Introduction · 5

elements characteristic of the Utrecht Psalter.46 The Galilean mosaics were fashioned by artists who prepared the pavement beneath the tesserae by drawing preliminary forms on the plaster. Likewise it has been shown that the mosaicists worked from model books of papyrus or parchment. The skills needed to draw naturalistic forms in model books or on plaster are transferable. I propose that the same skilled artists who were adept at creating the underdrawings could have created the model for the extraordinary motifs we see in the Utrecht Psalter. I believe that it is probable that a sage with an intimate knowledge of the Hebrew text and the Jewish commentary guided the original artist or artists. This study is only a beginning. Future scholars will surely find more links between the Utrecht imagery and Jewish texts. My contribution merely paves the way for scholars to look into other sources, such as Jewish liturgy and religious poetry. More archaeological discoveries may further illuminate the stylistic links between the “Hellenistic” style present in late Roman Palestine and the pictures in the Utrecht Psalter. New finds might also add to the repertoire of iconographic imagery that can be linked to the Utrecht Psalter illustrations. The observations of Dufrenne—that the Christological scenes were insertions—as well as Van der Horst’s insight—that the text and illustrations came from different sources—were important contributions to my hypothesis of a Jewish model for the Utrecht images. The commonly rendered motifs in the synagogue mosaics and houses of Roman Palestine have demonstrated that the forms must have been based on drawings in model books. Since there must have been model books, there also could have been illustrations drawn on scrolls or in books, a possibility that gives weight to the argument

6 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

articulated by Weitzmann—that Jewish manuscript art could have existed, though none has survived. Thus with this study I reopen the question of the existence of illustrated late antique Jewish manuscripts. I will demonstrate that since the Christological scenes in this Carolingian psalter have been shown to be ninth-century insertions, since the Latin text and the illustrations came from two different sources, and since an ebullient artistic and prosperous economic environment in the Galilee provided a locus where “Hellenistic” Jewish art flourished, an illustrated book of Psalms dependent on the Hebrew text could very well have been created there. In the course of time, it could have been the source for the model consulted by the artists of the Utrecht Psalter. In the following pages I will analyze those Utrecht illustrations that, given merely the Latin text and the patristic sources, have a motif or motifs that remain obscure or equivocal, and that only the Hebrew or Aramaic text, the Jewish commentary, or Jewish pictorial imagery can illuminate.

Chapter 1

Scholars have long recognized that the illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter were not a ninth-century creation ex nihilo. The Carolingian artists must have had a model. The consensus among scholars has been that the model was created in the late antique period and in a Christian milieu.1 In the early 1930s DeWald noticed some erasures on the first couple of illustrations of the Psalter.2 In his 1996 article “The Utrecht Psalter: Picturing the Psalms of David,” Van der Horst reported that upon studying those erasures carefully, he realized that they reveal that the Utrecht Psalter was not copied in its entirety from a model containing both the text and the imagery.3 If a single model combining the pictures with text had been before the artist, he would not have made the mistakes he did, forcing him to erase his images on the first couple of folios in order to put the correct images above the appropriate texts. Van der Horst’s study of the underlying erasures makes it clear that two independent sources for the Utrecht Psalter were used: one for the text—a ninth-century Gallican version of the Psalms—and one for the drawings.4 The knowledge that the drawings were not linked to the text used by the Carolingian artists bears directly on my hypothesis. Since the illustrations were not necessarily allied with the Latin text, they could have been created with a different text

Methodology and the Example of Psalm 1

at hand. I hypothesize that the late antique text the artist had before him was in Hebrew, and that the motifs he created were dependent not only on the Hebrew words of the Psalms but also at times on the Midrash Tehillim, the Commentary on Psalms. Dufrenne has suggested that there were about eight Christological scenes inserted into the Psalter proper in the ninth century.5 With the exception of the Christological scenes— and the figure of Christ that often replaced what must have been the hand of God—the rest of the Utrecht Psalter imagery is more or less a literal depiction of the words and phrases in the Psalms.6 For the most part, the motifs in the imagery of the Utrecht Psalter can be explained by both the Latin and the Hebrew texts. Some motifs, however, are puzzling if one looks only at the Latin. Where the Latin text does not accord with a particular motif, the Hebrew text or the Aramaic Targum can usually be shown to correspond more precisely to the image or explain the motif more satisfactorily than does the Latin. On occasion the Hebrew text illuminates a motif that is not referenced in the Latin text at all. And if the Hebrew and the Latin versions, as well as the church fathers, provide no clues as to the source of the imagery, the Midrash Tehillim can often help unravel the puzzle. In addition, a number of the motifs in the imagery can be shown to reflect late antique Jewish art, specifically the art in the Galilee, the region where most Jews of Palestine lived from the late third through the sixth century.7 The idea that the Hebrew text, the Midrash, and the Targum provided the sources for the late antique illustrations of this Carolingian Psalter will underlie my investigation of the Utrecht imagery. The analysis below will focus on the more than three dozen Psalms where only the Hebrew text

8 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

and the Jewish commentary can clarify the motifs. Hence, I will argue that an illustrated manuscript executed in a late antique Jewish milieu stood behind the model for the Utrecht Psalter. In this chapter I will use the imagery of Psalm 1 as an example of how the Hebrew text and the Midrash on Psalms provide a greater insight into the meaning of some of the motifs in the Utrecht Psalter than do the Latin text and the patristic commentary. Jewish art-historical sources can also add insights. For instance, the illustration of Psalm 1 presents an example of classical “pagan” motifs. Some of those “pagan” motifs have long been recognized as having been assimilated into Christian art. With the discovery of numerous classical figures in the late antique mosaics of the Galilee, it is now accepted that they can be found in Jewish art as well. The first two verses of Psalm 1 read, “Blessed is the man who walked not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stood in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seat of the scorners” (see frontispiece). These words introduce the voice of someone conversing about what the blessed man did not do. Verse 2 can be understood as another voice augmenting the description of the “blessed man” by telling us what he does do: “His delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law he doth meditate day and night.” Accordingly, the image in the top center of Psalm 1 depicts two men in conversation, their heads bent toward one another.8 The person on the right is gesturing toward those beneath a pediment, the “wicked,” the “sinners,” the “scornful,” those in whose company the blessed man would not be found. The person on the left is pointing toward the domed structure sheltering a winged female and the “blessed man” who “meditates day and night.” The enthroned evil ruler in the upper right is holding a sword and is surrounded by henchmen

brandishing spears and a pitchfork. In front of the column to the right is a small, grotesque figure (see the frontispiece detail opening this chapter). Four serpents emanate from his head, and a snake twines around each leg. In his right hand he grasps two serpents that rise toward the head of the wicked man. In his left hand he holds more snakes. This group is related to verse 1. It illustrates the fact that the blessed man “walked not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stood in the path of the sinful, nor sat in the seat of scorners” (emphasis mine). These are the evil ones whose ways the blessed man shunned. The Latin text of the last phrase tells us that the blessed man does not sit in cathedra pestilentiae, “in the seat of pestilence,” and scholars have seen the snake-wielding figure as a personification of that pestilence.9 The Hebrew text does not use the word “pestilence” here. It rather employs the term for scorners, letsim. Thus the meaning in the Hebrew is that the blessed man does not sit “in the seat of scorners.”10 Nowhere in the Hebrew psalm itself are serpents mentioned, nor does the Latin text refer to them. It is the Midrash that connects the serpent with the wicked man who sat in the seat of the scorners: “Adam said: ‘If I had not walked in the counsel of the serpent, how blessed I would have been! . . . If I had not stood in the way of the serpent, how blessed I would have been! . . . If I had not sat in the seat of the serpent, a seat of scorn, how blessed I would have been!’” And this section of the Midrash concludes: “It follows from this that the serpent was a scoffer [or a “scorner”].”11 So it is the Midrash that confirms that one of the attributes of the wicked man—that he sits in the “seat of the scorner”—is illustrated by the presence of the serpents, for the Midrash names the serpent as a scoffer/scorner.12 A few sentences further on, the Midrash once again equates the serpent with the

wicked: “Not so the wicked (Ps. 1:4)—that is the serpent” (emphasis mine).13 So the “wicked” is once again the “serpent.” The Latin text uses the word pestilentiae, “pestilence, plague.” It does not use the word for “serpent.” Nor do any of the church fathers connect the serpent with the wicked or with the scorners.14 The Midrash, however, offers a convincing explanation of why we find the serpents in conjunction with the wicked man, who, unlike the blessed man, is a scorner and “sits in the seat of the scornful.” The above is an example of the way the Midrash Tehillim sheds light on a puzzling motif in the illustrations of the Psalter. This next example from the imagery of Psalm 1 is connected to Jewish art-historical sources as well as to the Midrash. Under the domed structure to the left is the “blessed man” (see frontispiece). The psalm itself does not tell us who the blessed man is. However, the Jewish commentary on Psalm 1 identifies him. The explanation is given in light of a verse from Proverbs. The blessed man is “He that diligently seeketh good, procureth favor (Prov. 11:27).” We learn that such a person was “David, king of Israel, who diligently sought to do good to the children of Israel.”15 Then the commentary on Psalm 1 elaborates on the words “procureth favor.” “And [he] procureth favor—that is David procured God’s favor so that the Holy Spirit [ruaḥ ha-kodesh] came to rest upon him, and thus he was able to bless the children of Israel.”16 How does this phrase in the midrashic commentary shed light on the image? It verifies, of course, that the figure seated under the cupola is meant to be David, who is traditionally understood as the “author” of the Psalms (though the names of other authors are actually appended to many of them). This is indeed appropriate, for a “portrait” of the author is a fitting image for the opening of a book.17 Furthermore, in its gloss of verse 1, the Midrash also presents a possible

Methodology and Psalm 1 · 9

identity for the winged female behind David: “Blessed is the man (Ps. 1:1). These words are to be considered in the light of what Scripture says elsewhere: He that diligently seeketh good, procureth favor (Prov. 11:27). . . . David procured God’s favor so that the Holy Spirit [ruaḥ ha-kodesh] came to rest upon him.”18 Ruaḥ ha-kodesh is glossed in the Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon as “ancient angel of the presence, and later Shekina.”19 It should be noted that the Shekina, also defined as the “Divine Presence,” is feminine, and in rabbinic usage, the phrase as a whole is grammatically feminine. Kodesh means “holiness” or “purity.” Since in the Midrash the ruaḥ ha-kodesh is grammatically feminine, it could easily have been portrayed as a woman. I suggest that in the model the female standing behind David and extending her hand over him is the personification of that Holy Spirit, ruaḥ ha-kodesh, evoked in the beginning of the midrashic commentary on Psalm 1, a Spirit of Holiness that came to rest upon David. The word ruaḥ, meaning “spirit” or “breath,” occurs in many places in the Bible and other ancient Jewish literature, but for our purposes, the most relevant text is from Ezekiel 37:5–9 and 38:23, relating to the valley of dry bones, illustrated on the walls of the mid-third-century synagogue of Dura Europos (pls. 1a and 1b). There Ezekiel prophesies a kind of “communal resurrection.” “Thus saith the Lord GOD unto these bones: ‘Behold, I will cause breath [ruaḥ] to enter into you, and ye shall live.’” This concept of the breath or spirit of life is personified in one of the Ezekiel panels (pl. 1a). There the image of ruaḥ, seen bending over the prone figures, is personified in a manner similar to her appearance in the Utrecht Psalter. She is barefoot and wears a long, loose garment. Like the Utrecht figure, she has two prominent wings. In the Dura image she bends toward the bodies and

10 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

stretches out her hands to give them the spirit of life. In the Utrecht example she stretches out her hand protectively over David. In the Dura panels three other winged personifications of ruaḥ descend toward the bodies about to be reconstituted. They are part of the “giving of spirit.” Hence, the Ezekiel iconography demonstrates that there were, in Jewish art, female winged figures representing ruaḥ, the personification of “breath” and/or “spirit.” In the Midrash on Psalm 1 ruaḥ is connected to the Spirit of Holiness, whose presence protects David as he sits meditating on the Torah. Hence in the case of both of these motifs— the winged female ruaḥ protecting David and the grotesque snake-wielder behind the wicked man—the Midrash provides us with a fuller understanding of what the illustration meant to those who created it. And I suggest that those who created it did so in a Jewish milieu. The rest of the motifs can be explained by the Latin or the Hebrew text. The tree planted by the water mentioned in verse 3 is full of leaves that never wither, an image reflective of both the Latin and the Hebrew verses. However, consonant with my hypothesis that the Utrecht Psalter imagery was devised with the Hebrew text and midrashic commentary at hand, I will now explore how the motifs in the illustration would be seen in the Jewish context. We will proceed in our study of the motifs to look at them as if they were dependent not on a Latin text, as has been assumed, but on a Hebrew text and the Jewish commentary.20 I will argue that the motifs could indeed have been created in the context of late antique Jewish art. We learn from verse 2 that David’s meditations on torah continue “day and night.” The letters of the Torah are indicated by tiny, nondescript strokes of the pen. The blessed man has his finger on a word, while his other hand

supports his head. His eyes are open, and he directs his gaze at the text. The motifs illustrating “day and night” provide an example of how the Utrecht Psalter presents a literal rendering of the words of the Psalm. The crescent moon, along with the stars in the top right, signifies night. At the left, the concept of “day” is symbolized by the Greco-Roman sun god, Helios. At first glance one might wonder how Helios could have been illustrated in a manuscript created in a Jewish milieu. However, twentieth- and twentyfirst-century archaeological discoveries have revealed that Helios was the primary motif on at least nine synagogue floor mosaics from late antique Galilee (pl. 2).21 The sun god in Hammat is represented as a male figure encompassed in a circle. He wears a cloak buckled on his right shoulder and a crown with spiky rays symbolizing the light of the sun. He stands in the chariot that will take him across the daytime sky.22 The image of the personified Sun is a motif well known in pagan Roman and late antique art. It is, however, found only once in surviving Early Christian art, in the so-called Christos-Helios mosaic in the tomb of the Julii in the Vatican necropolis under St. Peter’s in Rome (pl. 4).23 Given that the sun-god motif appears only once in surviving Early Christian art, and was present at least nine times in late antique Jewish art, I suggest that the sun god could just as likely have been found in a Jewish illustrated model as in a Latin Christian source. Another motif that might appear surprising in a Jewish context is the personification of the river, on the left. He is bearded, nude to just below the waist, and his right arm rests on a large vessel from which water flows. A tall reed stands beside him. Many such “river” personifications populate the Psalter. Here the figure is meant as a literal illustration of the “water” in verse 3: “He [the blessed man] shall be like a tree replanted

by streams of water.” As with the Helios figure, one can point to the river god in a Jewish context. Such a figure is found on the mosaic pavement in the House of Leontis, the home of a Jewish patron, a house-synagogue complex in Beth Shean in the Galilee (pl. 5).24 Though less “Hellenistic” in style, the mosaic river god obviously comes from the same classical tradition, a tradition flourishing in the Galilee in the late third through the fifth century.25 The Leontis river god is seated on a water beast that has two front legs. Even that part of the Leontis figure finds a parallel in the Utrecht Psalter. For instance, folio 56v (Psalm 97/98) displays a river god likewise extending his arm and holding a reed, and he also sits on a water beast with two front legs (pl. 5c). The river god is one among many figures in the Utrecht Psalter that are nude or partially nude.26 One might try to argue that a Jewish model would never have included nude figures. Jewish literary sources of the late antique period reveal an abhorrence of nudity, so if texts were our only guide, one would be hard pressed to attribute these nude figures to a Jewish tradition.27 However, nude and partially nude figures (male and female) are found in various Jewish settings in late antiquity.28 For instance, in addition to the partially nude sea god, one of the mosaic floors in the House of Leontis displays a naked Nereid riding a sea monster, a partially nude Siren playing a flute, and a partially naked man in a ship fighting a sea creature (pl. 5a). The synagogue mosaics at Huqoq include nude winged putti and three nude hybrid creatures.29 The synagogue murals of Dura Europos likewise include nude figures, even Jewish ones.30 The infant Moses and the boy being resuscitated by Elijah, as well as some male figures in Ezekiel’s vision, are three examples (pl. 1a). The drowning Egyptians are likewise depicted as nude (pl. 14).

Methodology and Psalm 1 · 11

It is, however, the Jewish necropolis of Beth Sheʿarim that is most relevant to any discussion of nudity in Jewish art.31 The Beth Sheʿarim burial site in western Galilee is one of the richest repositories of Jewish art from the third and fourth centuries. Dynasties of Jewish patriarchs (the highest communal officers of the Jews from the third to the fifth century) were buried there, and Jews came from all over the diaspora to visit the holy site and/or to arrange for interment. Given the stature of the individuals who found their final resting place in this necropolis, it is all the more startling to discover the examples of nudity present in these catacombs. One of the most famous is the marble sarcophagus with a high relief of a lightly clad or nude woman facing a swan (pl. 6).32 Even if, as seems likely, this sarcophagus was imported from abroad, its placement in a catacomb that was used as a Jewish burial site is surprising. Other mythological figures, including Victories, Erotes, and Amazons are seen on the sarcophagi and marble fragments from Beth Sheʿarim cata­ comb 20, where, from inscriptions, we know that some of the people buried there bore the designation “rabbi.”33 With respect to nudity, this complex provides a fascinating example of the Romanization to which many Jews responded in the third and fourth centuries. The artists did not shirk from rendering nudity in the synagogues either, for the zodiac signs of Aquarius and Libra in Hammat Tiberias are nude (pls. 2 and 2d), and the Pisces figure in Sepphoris is barely covered.34 The nudity and partial nudity of the naked Atlas figures or the partially nude earth goddesses in the Utrecht Psalter in no way argue against a possible Jewish source. In the lower right are motifs relating to the netherworld that are part of the Jewish biblical and midrashic tradition, but, for the most part,

12 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

they have not as yet been uncovered in late antique Jewish art. The artist who executed the model for this illustration took the opportunity to represent the entrance to the world of the dead, a place into which the “doomed” sinners would be thrust (verse 6). Various passages in the Psalms describe “the pit,” bor, a hole in the ground mired in slimy clay.35 In the Psalms the place is often called Sheol, and in the Midrash the term Gehenna is used. In this illustration as elsewhere in the Utrecht Psalter the pit of the netherworld is literally depicted, here in the bottom right. The Midrash on Psalm 1 amplifies our view of this pit: regarding the phrase “Not so, the wicked” (Ps. 1:4), Rabbi Abba b. Kahana states: “The congregation of Israel said to the Holy One, blessed be He, “I am . . . the lily of the valleys. . . . I am the one hidden away in the valleys of Gehenna, but when the Holy One, blessed be He, raises me up out of the horrible pit, out of the depths of Gehenna, with good deeds I shall freshen like a rose and shall sing a song to Him, as is said He brought me up also out of the horrible pit, out of the miry clay”; in the last phrase the rabbi is quoting from Hebrew Psalm 40:3.36 And further in the Midrash on Psalm 1 we read that the Holy One says, “Let each and every nation together with its god go down into Gehenna, and let each be tested by fire; and let the children of Israel also go down into Gehenna, and let them be tested by fire.”37 And further we read that the Holy One “has given His judgment of the wicked and has condemned them to Gehenna.” And after the Holy One has condemned those he did not favor, “[He] will read their indictments aloud, and they will go down to Gehenna.”38 From this comment alone in the Midrash (and there are many other references to the netherworld in the commentary as a whole) we learn something about Gehenna, the “pit” into which the doomed wicked are cast,

a motif very often represented in the Utrecht Psalter. Just as it is drawn in the Psalter, we learn from the Midrash that it is in the form of a hole in the ground (made out of clay); it is in the “depths” (i.e., deep beneath the earth); and it is characterized by flames. That description accords with the visual representation in Psalm 1: the earth has opened into a large hole, and tongues of fire lap at its edges. This is only one of the many illustrations of Gehenna (or the Pit, or Sheol) in the Utrecht Psalter. Other illustrations will provide a fuller image of how the destination for the “doomed” was imagined. The belief in an afterlife in the netherworld is consonant with postbiblical Jewish thought. It is expressed, for instance, in the book of Daniel (12:1–13), which promises that those inscribed in the Book of Life will be rescued. Many of those that sleep in the dust of the earth will awaken, some to eternal life, others to everlasting abhorrence. Hence a place such as the fiery pit represented here is in agreement with Jewish belief in the postbiblical period. As in the book of Psalms and the Midrash, and so too in the Utrecht Psalter, demons and angels are represented playing several roles. Often they act as God’s agents. That is the role they play surrounding the pit in this image. The blessed man prospers, for “the Lord cherishes the way of the righteous, while the way of the wicked is doomed” (verse 6). Those “doomed” are foisted down into the pit by a demon and an angel, both winged. The demon on the left has wild hair and wears a loincloth fringed with snakes. The angel is winged, nude to the waist, and wears high boots. They both brandish pitchforks. In this illustration, as throughout the Utrecht Psalter, they act as God’s emissaries. That demons and angels would appear in a Jewish illustrated manuscript is not surprising. There is a rich Jewish biblical and postbiblical

literature for both, though only the “angels” appear in Jewish art, specifically in the midthird-century wall paintings of the synagogue of Dura Europos. There, as mentioned above, angelic-like winged female figures in the Ezekiel murals fly down toward the prone bodies and bring them the breath of life (pl. 1a). To my knowledge, no images of demons have been uncovered in late antique Jewish art. However, many references to various kinds of demons exist in biblical and postbiblical Jewish sources.39 Among those that are anthropomorphic are the satyr-like demons described as dancing in the wilderness (Isa. 13:21 and 34:14) and the dreaded “destroying angels” (Isa. 57:8; 2 Sam. 24:16; and 2 Chron. 21:15). They are believed to come forth not from the heavenly abode of YHWH , but from the netherworld. A demon is evoked within the text of the Psalms themselves. Psalm 91:6 reads, “You shall not fear the terror of night . . . nor the destroyer [yashud] who lays waste at noon.”40 The Midrash relates the word “destroyed” (yashud) to the word shed, which means “demon.”41 “Of the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor of the destruction that wasteth at noonday (Ps. 91:6). The Rabbis said: The latter words refer to a demon. R. Jedah said, in the name of R. Jose, that the demon brings destruction—that is, lays waste.”42 This commentary goes on to extrapolate on “demons.” Though there are many Jewish literary sources referencing demons in late antiquity, to my knowledge, no late antique Jewish visual images have come to light. Among the doomed figures in the pit is a gruesome head attached to a serpentine body with large, grasping hands. This monster is not mentioned in Psalm 1 nor in its commentary. The figure, however, could be any one of several creatures associated in Jewish culture with death and the netherworld. One possible identification

Methodology and Psalm 1 · 13

is Belial, a monster alluded to in the text of Psalm 18:5–6 as connected with death and the netherworld: “Ropes of Death encompassed me; torrents of Belial terrified me; ropes of Sheol encircled me; snares of Death confronted me.”43 In postbiblical passages Belial is defined as a “base, wicked thing.”44 The word can also mean “counselor of ruin” or a “destroyer.” Evil men are dominated by Belial, and he causes death and destruction. He catches men in traps of lewdness and profanity, and ultimately he and his attendants will be cast into the all-consuming fire.45 The image that accompanies the text of Psalm 18 (see fig. 8) displays the head of this underworld creature, and it looks very much like that depicted on folio 1: the head is large, the mouth is wide open, and the creature has wild, fiery hair.46 In the illustration to Psalm 1, the small humanoid forms surrounding him struggle to free themselves from the pit. It is also possible that the creature in or protruding from the netherworld could relate to the biblical figure Satan (satan). He is the demonic being who, among other things, enticed David to “number Israel”—that is, take a census—an act that resulted in dire consequences (1 Chron. 21:1). In Jewish literature Satan is associated with Lucifer, who tried to be like the most high and rebelled against God. He was thrown out of heaven and “brought down to the netherworld, to the uttermost parts of the pit.”47 In the Bible the word satan generally refers to a human adversary, and Satan is seen as such in the Psalms as well. In Psalm 109:6, 20, and 29 satanic adversaries are evoked. The illustration of that Psalm (see fig. 31) reflects verse 6, “let Satan stand at his right.” In the center left a diabolical creature with snakes writhing out of his loincloth pushes his knee into the buttocks of the wicked man, thereby causing him to strain backward.48 In form and gesture that “satanic” figure is like the

14 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

one next to the pit in the image of Psalm 1. And in both illustrations, the satanic creatures are torturing evil men. By tormenting the wicked in this way, Satan does God’s work. However, in postbiblical and apocryphal literature, Satan is not God’s helper, but rather an adversary. He represents the forces of evil, though those forces are nowhere as powerful as God is.49 Since these demonic figures populate Jewish literature, the appearance of such creatures in a model for the Utrecht Psalter should not be surprising. That they would inhabit the “pit” of the netherworld or push their victims into Sheol is altogether to be expected. It is with these gruesome creatures that we complete our discussion of the visual rendition of the Jewish interpretation of Psalm 1. This is a rich illustration. It displays the bodies of heaven as well as the fires of the pit, the evil sinners as well as the blessed David, who appears here as the author of the book of Psalms to follow.

Chapter 2

Psalm 4 The Tight, Constricted Place; The Grave; “Sons of Great Men”; Animal Sacrifice on a Burning Altar; “Their Grain and Wine Abound”; The Greedy Dogs Fi g u r e 1 Psalm 4 is a petition from David, who, in the illustration, is on the left, holding his arm up to God: “When I call, answer me, God of my vindication, You have relieved me of my distress, be gracious to me and hear my prayer” (verse 2). The psalmist is standing in a sarcophagus. The word for “sarcophagus,” however, is not mentioned in the Latin or the Hebrew text of this psalm. What could have suggested the motif of

Analysis of the Pictorial Motifs in Selected Utrecht Psalter Illustrations

Figure 1 · Psalm 4, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 2v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

a tomb to the artist who executed the model for this illustration? The Christian interpretation is that the motif of the psalmist in the tomb relates to the last verse, where he says he will sleep in peace (verse 9).1 However, the standing, gesticulating psalmist does not at all appear to represent the notion of sleeping in peace. One must look to the Hebrew of verse 2 to find an explanation for why the psalmist is standing up in a sarcophagus: “You have relieved me of my distress,” batsar hirḥavta li. The Hebrew word tsar in this verse can mean distress, but it can also mean “a tight, constricted place,” so the verse can be translated as “When I was in a tight place, you gave me space.”2 This understanding of the Hebrew, which literally means you “widen” “the tight, constricted place” (batsar), is more evocative of the motif in the illustration than is the Latin, in tribulatione dilatasti mihi, “You widen or enlarge me from my sorrow [tribulatione].” Tribulatione here means “torment.”3 Hence, one sense of the Hebrew more convincingly suggests the tight or narrow tomb. In addition, the root of the Hebrew word tsar (meaning, on the one hand, “constricting place”) can also have the connotation of the grave, as it does in Psalm 116:3, where it means the “confines of the grave.”4 Therefore, not only does the Hebrew word accord more precisely with the visual motif of the tight, constricting tomb; the root of that Hebrew word is associated with the grave. Thus the motif of the psalmist standing in a sarcophagus could have come from a manuscript illustrated in a Jewish milieu, where there was an understanding of the Hebrew words and their implications. Though David’s hand is raised toward what in a Jewish model would have been the hand of God, he is looking down at two military figures holding spears and a shield.5 They turn back

16 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

and look up toward David, unlike the others in that group. Those reading the text from a Latin perspective do not single out these figures for interpretation. The Midrash, however, indicates who those two figures might be. In verse 3 the psalmist says, “Sons of great men: How long will you put my honor to shame.” The Midrash explains that in this psalm David is addressing Doeg and Ahithophel. In its gloss of verse 3, the Midrash has David saying to Doeg and Ahithophel, “O ye sons of such renowned men as Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, how long will ye turn my glory into shame?”6 And David further is said to castigate them, “How long will you take pleasure in abusing me with vain and empty words, saying of me ‘God has abandoned him.’” The Midrash gives us the meaning of David’s words: “David meant: Do you expect that because my kingship was lost to me for a time it will be for ever thus?”7 These two spear-bearing men may be those prominent scions of noble descent mentioned in the Midrash, Doeg and Ahithophel, who persist in denying David the honor due him as king. David’s words to the two men continue in verses 4–6. He reminds them that the Lord singled him out for special treatment, that is, to be king over his people. He urges Doeg and Ahithophel to “offer up sacrifices of righteousness” (verse 6), and indeed, two spear-bearing men line up behind the sheep approaching the sacrificial altar on the right. This kind of altar appears frequently before the Temple in the Utrecht Psalter.8 Here it is depicted with the fire ablaze and a sacrifice upon it. A priest with raised hand stands at its side.9 A man approaches, guiding the lamb to be offered. He holds a libation vessel in his left hand.10 An animal being sacrificed on an altar before a Temple/ tabernacle is depicted in the consecration scene

on the west wall of the synagogue of Dura Europos (pl. 7). In both the Dura painting and the Utrecht manuscript we have the Temple facade, the priest, the altar with it flaming sacrifice, and the sacrificial animal. In both images the Temple is depicted in basilican form with a pediment and a sloping roof with a grid representing the tiles. Another example of a sacrifice scene in Jewish art is found in the mosaic pavement at Sepphoris.11 Before the partial destruction of the Sepphoris mosaic, a cubic altar filled the center of panel 3. The surviving bell in the lower left indicates that, just as at Dura, Aaron the priest would have stood before the altar, for bells adorned the hem of his garment.12 Just as at Sepphoris and Dura, in the Utrecht illustration we likewise find a priest next to the altar and a sheep nearby. So the exhortation of the psalmist to the “sons of great men” (Ahithophel and Doeg) that they should “offer up sacrifices” is literally represented in this image, an iconography that is reflected in at least two examples from late antique Jewish art. One section of the midrashic commentary on Psalm 4 illuminates a motif that is otherwise quite puzzling. The kegs and vats in the center relate to the grain and wine mentioned in verse 8. The Hebrew can be translated, “You put joy into my heart when their grain and wine show increase.” In the Jewish context the “they” are the wicked people of Israel or the gentiles who are pictured in the foreground of the image. The vats are meant to represent their prosperity (their grain and wine). It seems counterintuitive that the psalmist would rejoice in the prosperity of the wicked. In the Midrash this bounty of the gentiles is explained in a rather complex manner: if God bestows such bounty upon them (i.e., those who anger him), on the day of future reward, how much more will he reward those

who obeyed his wishes.13 So the motif of the grain and the wine alludes to the future bounty of the devout. The Midrash further illuminates the meaning of the image by explaining the presence of the dogs. In the Christian context, where the motif is interpreted based on the Latin text, DeWald suggests that the dogs and the horses should be understood as relating to the “vanity” of the crowd of people behind them (Latin Ps. 4:3). DeWald makes this suggestion in a footnote, since it is not really clear how the dogs can relate to the Latin text.14 The midrashic gloss of verse 8, however, opens up the possibility that the dogs (and the wicked men) were included in the model as an illustration of a parable related in the Jewish commentary: A king prepared a banquet, brought together the guests, and seated them at the gate of his palace. When the guests saw dogs coming out of the banquet hall, their mouths stuffed with pheasants and lambs’ heads, they said to each other, “‘If the dogs fare so well, how much more abundant will our banquet be!’ According to Scripture, the wicked men of Israel are like the dogs, for it is said, Yea, they [the wicked] are greedy dogs which can never have enough (Isa. 56:11), and they enjoy prosperity in this world. Surely, then, how much greater the blessings of Israel in the world-tocome.”15 Hence, according to the Midrash, the wicked in the foreground, like the greedy dogs that accompany them, signal to the Israelites that if the wicked enjoy such prosperity in this world, how much greater will be the blessings and prosperity of the Israelites in the world-tocome. In a convoluted manner, the dogs remind the devout viewer of the blessings he can expect in the afterlife. This midrashic reference suggests the reason for the dogs’ presence. They, along with the flourishing wicked, serve as a reminder

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 17

of the prosperity promised to Israel in the next world. They add to the motifs that suggest a Jewish model could have been at the source of this illustration.

Psalm � Saul and the Twelve Tribes; ʿAf, the Angel of Anger Fi g u r e 2 The Midrash regards this psalm as being dedicated to Saul’s pursuit of David.16 In verse 2 David calls on the Lord to save him from his tormentors: “Deliver me from all my pursuers and save me.” And in verse 7 he says, “Bestir Yourself on my behalf.” The psalmist tells us that if his enemies do not turn back and repent, the Lord will “sharpen His sword, He will bend and aim His bow. And for him [the psalmist], God has prepared deadly weapons, He will use His arrows against those in hot pursuit” (verses 13–14). David stands in the top center holding the weapons that God has prepared for him: the sword, the bow, and the arrows. The armed figures representing his “pursuers” are gathered in the semicircle at the base of the hillock. David describes the pursuers as if they are threatening God himself. He addresses the Lord: “Lift Yourself up in fury against my tormentors. . . . When the assembly of nations surrounds You, Rise up above it” (verses 7–8). When David states, “When the assembly of nations surrounds You” he is actually saying that since the nations are threatening me, David, your faithful servant, it is as if they are threatening You the Lord. I suggest that the figures at the base of the hillock represent those who joined with Saul in pursuing David. The Midrash, citing 1 Samuel 26:2, says that Saul had “three thousand chosen

18 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

men of Israel with him, to seek David.”17 In the drawing there are twelve nondescript men of Israel, perhaps representing the tribes. I propose that the thirteenth, more distinctive figure is meant to represent Saul, standing a little above the semicircle on the left. Unlike any of the others in the semicircle, nearly the whole front of Saul’s body is visible, and his is the only face that turns toward us in three-quarter view. He is larger than the rest, though farthest away, and he has more defined facial features, such as a pointed beard. Saul leads the assembled tribes of Israel, who are hostile to David, the Lord’s faithful servant. Hence, I propose that in the model, just as we see here, David stood at the top of the hill, and the tribes that joined with Saul stood before him with their weapons.18 As mentioned, the primary midrashic reading of this psalm is Saul’s relentless pursuit of David. The hostility between the two is alluded to in verse 7:2b–3: “[O Lord], Deliver me from all my pursuers and save me, lest, like a lion, they tear me apart.” The midrashic commentary elaborates: “Like the lion who crouches over his prey and tears it to pieces, so Doeg and Ahithophel crouch over me to tear me to pieces. And there is none to deliver: In all the hosts of Saul, not even one man pleaded for my deliverance.”19 The literal representation of the crouching lion (symbolic of Doeg and Ahithophel) is on the extreme left of the illustration. The prey being torn to pieces is, of course, an analogue for David, whom none of Saul’s hosts tries to rescue. In the center right, climbing the hill, is a winged figure extending his arms toward David. If one interprets this figure from the point of view of the Latin text, he is seen as an enemy (inimicus) pursuing the psalmist’s soul, as in verse 6.20 However, the Hebrew text of the psalm and the Midrash offer a different

identification: he can be interpreted as ʿAf, one of the five angels of punishment listed in the midrashic commentary on verse 7.21 The angel ʿAf personifies Anger and is evoked when the psalmist entreats the Lord, “Rise up, Lord, in Your anger [beʾappekha] . . . lift Yourself up in fury against my tormentors.” The psalmist is calling upon the Lord to set himself against his “tormentors,” that is to use his “anger” justly against his enemies. I contend that in the illustration, the winged ʿAf represents one of those angels who perform that service for God. Given that in verse 7 the psalmist is calling on God to deploy his anger on the psalmist’s behalf, and given the specific reference to an angel of anger in the midrashic gloss of verse 7, I believe that the figure ascending the hill more likely represents a personification of God’s anger than he does an “enemy” pursuing the soul of the psalmist.22 Hence, I would argue that here we have a motif better explained by the Jewish text and commentary than by the Latin text, and that

Figure 2 · Psalm 7, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 4r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

this more likely reading presents another piece of evidence for a model executed in a Jewish milieu. Farther to the right and lying on a hill is a wild-haired woman with three infants in her lap. This is an illustration of verse 15: “[The wicked man] conceives iniquity, is pregnant with evil schemes, and brings forth falsehood.” The antecedents in both languages, as well as the pronouns in the Hebrew, imply figuratively that the creature that gives birth to these qualities is male. However, the image that presented itself to the creator of the illustration was, naturally, a woman, for three stages of the birthing process are mentioned: conception, pregnancy, and giving birth, each symbolized by a separate infant.23 At the bottom, the wicked man is pictured falling into the pit that he himself has dug: “He has dug a pit and deepened it, and will fall into the

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 19

trap he made” (verse 16). The motif accords with both the Latin and the Hebrew texts.

Psalm 9 in the Latin, Psalms 9 and 10 in the Hebrew Two Texts (Hebrew Psalms 9 and 10) and Two Separate Illustrations Combined into One; The Restraining Device Fi g u r e 3 The texts of Psalms 9 and 10 from the Hebrew version of the book of Psalms are combined into one in the Septuagint, the Vulgate, the Utrecht Gallican, and Jerome’s translation of the Bible from the Hebrew into Latin, titled Hebraeos. In these Greek and Latin versions, this combined psalm has the number 9.24 As I will show below, the image in the Utrecht Psalter is the combination of the separate images reflecting Psalms 9 and 10 in the Hebrew. (In the Utrecht Psalter, the image accompanies Psalm 9. Hereafter the Latin text is one number behind the Hebrew.) Two separate illustrations originally accompanied Hebrew Psalms 9 and 10. The two different compositions were separate in the model that, I contend, was executed based on the Hebrew text. The two illustrations were brought together when the original illustrations were used in conjunction with the Latin text. The evidence for two separate illustrations for Psalms 9 and 10 emerges as one studies the composition and the iconography. The visual motifs for the Hebrew Psalms 9 and 10 are found, respectively, on the left and right of the image. As per the hypothesis presented above, I believe that at one point an artist looking at a Hebrew manuscript done in a Jewish milieu would have seen one illustration

20 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

for Psalm 9 and a different one for Psalm 10. When an artist working from a Latin text saw that the texts for 9 and 10 had been combined into one long psalm, the two illustrations had to be combined as well. I propose that the artist drawing the Utrecht Psalter, or some intermediate artist, combined the two images.25 If my hypothesis is correct, and the Utrecht Psalter illustrations are based on a model accompanying a Hebrew text, one would expect the illustration of the Utrecht Psalm 9 to be particularly crowded, since it would have had to include the illustrations from the Hebrew Psalms 9 and 10 in one image above the long Latin text for Psalm 9. In fact, crowding is particularly intense in this image. Furthermore, as we will see in this illustration, the motifs relating to Hebrew Psalm 9 are on the left side, and those relating to Hebrew Psalm 10 on the right. Both sides are brought together above the text for Latin Psalm 9.26 Let us look at the left side of the present illustration, which, I argue, was, in the model, one single composition accompanying Hebrew Psalm 9. In the top center left is the image of Christ holding the scales of justice. In the model the hand of God would have held these scales. The motif of the scales of justice relates to verses 9:5, 8, and 9, which refer to the Lord as a judge. One representation of the psalmist (he is illustrated twice in the composition on the left) is on the tower above “the gates of the daughters of Zion” (9:15), where he can proclaim the praises of the Lord.27 Other motifs relating to Hebrew Psalm 9 found on the left side include a second representation of the psalmist, who appears with sword and spear on the mountain slope near the scales of justice. His hand is raised as he says, “I will sing praises to Your Name, Most High. When my enemies retreat they will stumble and perish”

(verses 3–4 and verse 12). The reference to “enemies” gives rise to the psalmist’s warrior garb. The stumbling and defeated enemies are depicted before the city gate (verse 4). Two “torndown,” faintly drawn cities are crumbling among the hills in the center (verse 7). Those who are doomed are being pushed toward the furnace in the foreground (verses 6 and 18). A monstrous head leers out from its side; in the Jewish context this creature should be seen as Belial, the personification of Death.28 It should be noted that the arrangement of these motifs forms a pleasing triangular composition culminating at the top, where, I maintain, the hand of God would have been holding the scales. This leftside illustration could easily have accompanied just Hebrew Psalm 9; no motifs depicting Psalm 10 appear on the left. The image that originally accompanied Hebrew Psalm 10 is on the right side. (All citations here will be to the Hebrew version, Psalm 10.) The text condemns the way the wicked treat the poor. In the first verse the psalmist, seated on the right-hand slope of the high,

Figure 3 · Psalm 9 in the Latin, Psalms 9 and 10 in the Hebrew, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 5r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

central hill and looking toward the right, asks God why he “hides”: “Why, Lord, do You stand aloof; hiding Yourself in times of torment?” (10:1). In accord with the meaning of this verse, it may be that the model contained no hand of God, for none is present in the right half of the image, though there is ample space for it at the top. In 10:2–11 the psalmist laments that the wicked seem to lead a charmed life. Near the top center of this right-hand composition is a spear-bearing, wicked horseman, who, in his haughtiness, hunts down the poor. We see him trampling his victims beneath his horse’s hooves. Another wicked man is said to be like a lion that “lurks in concealment to seize the poor” (10:9). The concealed lion is in his den in the lower center left. Another victim of the wicked is beneath the shelter; he is inclining his head so that the evil man can place a restraining device

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 21

Figures 3a (above) and 3b (below) · Psalm 9 / Psalms 9–10, details.

over his shoulders (10:2b) (fig. 3a). The object is illuminated by 10:9c: “He [the wicked man] seizes the poor when he draws him up in his net [verishto].” The root of the word for “net” in Hebrew, yod, reish, shin, can also mean “take possession.”29 So the victimized poor man is

22 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

“caught” by the device in the hand of the wicked man, who can possess him, as a trapper possesses a bird. In this right-hand side of the illustration most of the lines move diagonally downward toward where the poor man is bending under the restraining device being placed on him by the wicked man; the top center is occupied by the horseman stomping on his victims. Conversely, on the left side of the illustration, as we saw, the lines move diagonally up. Thus two separate, well-organized compositions make up this illustration, another indication that they originally were two different compositions, attached to Psalms 9 and 10 of a Hebrew version. There is another reading for 10:2, one that sees the wicked as those who are caught in their own devices, in traps that they themselves have contrived. This is an opinion expressed by the medieval rabbi David Kimchi in his comment on 10:2: “May it please Thee that the wicked be caught in the devices that they have planned to catch the poor.”30 It is therefore possible that this understanding of the verse is illustrated at the far right, where the wicked man is falling off the pedestal (fig. 3b). In his left hand the falling figure grasps the same ensnaring device that the evil man under the shelter places on the shoulders of his victim. Kimchi interprets the verse this way: “May it please Thee that the wicked be caught in the devices that they have planned to catch the poor. . . . Thou shalt show him [the wicked] that there is One supreme over him, and he shall be caught in what he proposes to do.”31 In accord with this interpretation, it is apparent that the device being placed over the shoulders of the poor man could be the same as the one in the hand of the tumbling wicked man. In this context it could be either the attribute of the wicked man—who, having subjugated his poor victim, now falls from his pedestal—or it could

symbolize a device that would restrain the evil acts of the wicked man, who now is undone. The precise nature of this device has not been identified, but an unexplained curved brown object in the right hand of the naked figure in the Stuttgart Psalter is, I believe, an attempt to illustrate the same halter or restraining device that was in the model used for the Utrecht.32 Since it is found in both psalters, as well as in medieval Jewish commentary, I believe that in a Jewish model the object must have symbolized a kind of yoke of subjugation placed on the poor by those who would persecute them. As shown, it is evident that the illustrations in the two different halves of the image at one time illustrated, respectively, Psalms 9 and 10. It is likewise most probable that those different illustrations were created for a Hebrew version of the Psalms, a version in which Psalms 9 and 10 were separate. All the motifs on the left can be accounted for by looking at the Hebrew text of Psalm 9; those on the right side are in accord with Hebrew Psalm 10. They form two different

well-organized compositions. This is more evidence supporting my hypothesis that the Utrecht artists were working from a model that reflected the Hebrew text.

Psalm 10/11 Foundation; Snares Fi gure 4 The Hebrew version of Psalm 11 (Psalm 10 in the Latin) is another example of an illustration that accords more precisely with the Hebrew than with the Latin.33 The first verses in both texts record the psalmist’s feelings about fleeing from the evildoers persecuting him. The psalmist, who is in the center left holding the scales, is addressed by the wicked and told, “Flee, bird, to your mountain” (verse 1). And indeed we have Figure 4 · Psalm 10/11, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 6r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 23

the literal illustration of the bird (an analogue for the psalmist) fleeing toward the hill in the center. Meanwhile, below the psalmist “the wicked bend the bow, ready their arrow on the bowstring, to shoot under darkness at the upright of heart [the psalmist]” (verse 2). In this illustration one evildoer draws his bow and aims at the bird, and the other takes an arrow from his quiver. Verse 4 evokes the Lord’s holy palace in heaven. In this illustration a temple-like structure hovers among the clouds in the upper left. In an image reflecting the Hebrew version, the portal of the heavenly Temple would have been empty. Implicit in verse 1 is that the psalmist seeks to take refuge in the earthly Temple. In the Hebrew the psalmist complains, “You [the wicked] have torn down the foundations, what can the righteous man do?” (verse 3). By the word “foundations,” ha-shatot, based on the Hebrew root shin, tav, the psalmist evokes the foundations of the earthly Temple, the place to which he would flee (verse 1).34 And indeed, on the right, in accord with verse 3, we see the evil ones tearing down the foundations of the earthly Temple with an ax and a pickax. The Midrash is explicit in its evocation of the “foundations” of the Temple: “If wicked men rising up against the foundation stone [even ha-shetiyyah] of the Temple, which is to say, rising up against the foundation that the world is established upon, are to destroy it, then what pleasure canst Thou, O Righteous One of the world, have out of Thy world and out of Thy great work?”35 The Latin text of the psalm is much more vague: Quoniam quae perfecisti destruxerunt, “For they have destroyed the things which Thou hast made.” The phrase quae perfecisti destruxerunt is very general. In the Latin, there is no word that implies “foundations” as does the Hebrew

24 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

word ha-shatot, which literally means “the foundations.”36 Nor is a building mentioned in the Christian commentaries.37 And none of them mentions earthly “foundations.” Since neither the Latin text nor commentaries reference a building, let alone the partially destroyed Temple shown in the drawing, one must surmise that the image is more reflective of the Hebrew text and the midrashic commentary than it is of the Latin text. This is another piece of evidence indicating that the Utrecht imagery originated in a Jewish milieu. One might raise an objection to my theory positing an illustrated Hebrew model when looking at verse 6 and the corresponding visual motif: “He [God] will rain down upon the wicked fiery coals and brimstone.” On the extreme right, men are cowering underneath fiery coals and brimstones that are falling from above. When one studies the image closely it is evident that in addition to the coals and brimstone, nets or snares are falling onto the men’s shoulders. The Latin text explicitly indicates that snares are raining down on the sinners; the Hebrew text seems to make no mention of them. However, the Hebrew word for “coals” (paḥim) can also be translated as “snares.” If you take the last letter of the Hebrew word paḥim, the mem, to indicate plural and not to be part of the root, then the root is pei, ḥeit, ḥeit, and that word can mean “ensnare.”38 Though it would seem that the Utrecht artist could only have received the “snare” motif from the Latin (or LXX), it is evident that he could also have seen it in a model created in a Jewish milieu, for the Hebrew word for “coals” also suggests the translation “snares.” Hence, an artist illustrating a Hebrew text could have drawn the “snares” falling upon the wicked men cowering beneath the fiery coals and brimstone.

Psalm 11/12 When Baseness Is Exalted Fi g u r e 5 Two motifs that relate to circularity are found in the lower left and center of the illustration for Psalm 11/12. The central motif depicts men pushing a four-armed turnstile; the motif to the left shows ten men holding a large circular object. It is generally thought that these two motifs reflect verse 9. In the Latin (11:9) it reads: In circuitu impii ambulant: secundum altitudinem tuam multiplicasti filios hominum. “The wicked walk round about: according to thy highness, thou hast multiplied the children of men.” I agree that the central motif reflects the first part of that verse, with the wicked walking round

about the turnstile. That is also how the church fathers generally interpret it.39 However, I think we should consider the possibility that, given the Hebrew, the motif to the left could very well have a different meaning, a meaning connected to the use of this kind of object in the ancient world. A large circular shield was used to elevate emperors, raising them above their soldiers, thereby symbolizing the imperial accession to power. As we will see, it is possible that a late antique artist in Roman Palestine, dependent upon a Hebrew text, was inspired by that image in the creation of this motif. Figure 5 · Psalm 11/12, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 6v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 25

This “raising on a shield” was a well-known ceremony in the Roman Empire, adopted by Roman soldiers as a way of proclaiming a new emperor. Tacitus briefly mentions it as a form of electing a new leader.40 The emperor Julian was acclaimed “Augustus” in 360 CE by being raised on a shield by his soldiers. They were rebelling against Constantius’s order to send them to the East.41 One famous pictorial example of such an elevation of the king is found in the tenthcentury Paris Psalter, where King David is raised up on a shield (pl. 8).42 Another is the Coronation of Solomon in the Vatican Bible, where Solomon and the prophet Nathan are, improbably, both lifted on the shield.43 According to Hugo Buchthal, the Paris Psalter and the Vatican Bible images were derived from a common model in which the subject was David. This elevation-of-the-king motif is a continuation of the triumph scenes of antiquity where the emperor was raised up. The practice was no longer common in the Byzantine period, so the motif had to have been copied from an antique pictorial type.44 What words in the Hebrew Psalm could have given rise to the motif of the circular shield being used here, surrounded by men holding it up, as was the case at the time of the proclamation of an emperor? How does this practice relate to a possible Jewish model for the Utrecht Psalter? The Hebrew text provides a clue. It is translated as “The wicked walk on every side [literally, ‘in circles’ or ‘all around’], when the basest of men are elevated” (verse 9). When discussing the Hebrew word for “elevated” (rum) the Jewish commentators say that in the context of this verse, the root of “elevated” does not mean merely a “high position” physically, but also “the highest of posts.”45 As “elevated” is combined here with the phrase “the basest of men,” the meaning of the verse is that when the basest of

26 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

men are allowed to achieve supremacy (be lifted up to high positions), then the wicked walk on every side.46 The sense of the verse then is, literally, “The wicked walk all around when the basest of men are elevated”—that is, all mankind is degraded when base men are lifted to a high post. I contend that the Hebrew text alludes to the elevation of the basest of men, and that, symbolically, their elevation would happen on a shield like this one. Though no base man is being elevated in this illustration, the very presence of the circular shield and the figures supporting it is an allusion to the practice. When the basest of men are elevated to the highest of posts, they threaten the righteous, and at that time the wicked are allowed to “walk on every side.” So the Hebrew text here provides one possible explanation for a puzzling motif, a motif that very well could have been illustrated in a late antique Jewish model. The “turnstile” motif to the right, however, certainly reflects the first part of both the Latin and the Hebrew texts: “The wicked walk round about.” Augustine’s interpretation should also be taken into account here. ‘“The ungodly walk in a circle round about . . . ’ (verse 8) that is, in the desire of things temporal, which revolves as a wheel in a repeated circle of seven days; and therefore they do not arrive at the eighth, that is, at eternity, for which this Psalm is entitled.”47 This interpretation of the men walking around the repeated circle of temporality is possible as well.48 The other motifs in the illustration reflect both the Latin and the Hebrew. The psalmist, center right, stands on a hill holding a scroll with writing on it, probably meant to be the “sayings” or “words” of the Lord. Those “words” are said to be “pure,” “silver refined in the finest smelting earth, clarified sevenfold” (verse 7). In

the upper right is the literal depiction of the verse, for pure silver is being refined “sevenfold” by the smith at the forge. The plundered “poor” and “needy” appear on the left. They are groaning and reaching toward what would have been, in a Jewish model, the hand of God (verse 6). In the center the Lord’s hand would have been handing the spear to the angel, who then would have granted “safety” to the poor and needy by attacking the arrogant ones whispering to each other with “flattering lips” in the lower right (verses 3–4).

Psalm 15/16 David’s Incorruptible Flesh; Extraction from the Pit Fi g u r e 6 The image accompanying Psalm 15/16 has presented an interpretive problem for scholars studying the Utrecht Psalter illustrations from

a Christian point of view. It has been assumed that one of the eight Christological scenes that Dufrenne says were interpolated into the Psalter by the Carolingian artists appears here, the scene of the three Marys at the Tomb of Jesus.49 I will argue, however, that the scene was not a mere interpolation but rather was the result of a reinterpretation of a motif in the late antique model, a motif dependent on the midrashic commentary. That midrashic motif suggested the Christian scene to the ninth-century artist, so he reinterpreted his model and gave it a new Christian meaning. In the center of the image is the Gospel scene of the three Marys approaching an angel seated on a stone slab in front of a tomb. A “window” into the tomb is open and reveals the upper part of a shrouded reclining figure, presumably Jesus Figure 6 · Psalm 15/16, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 8r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 27

Figure 6a · Psalm 15/16, detail.

(fig. 6a). In the Christian context this motif is seen as illustrating the Latin verse 9: “Therefore my heart hath been glad, and my tongue hath rejoiced: moreover my flesh also shall rest in hope.”50 However, according to the Gospels (Mark 16:1–18; Matt. 28:1–10) the figure of Jesus lying in the tomb here is inaccurate. When the women approach, as they do in this image, the tomb should be empty. As the Gospels recount, a “young man sitting on the right side, clothed with a white robe . . . said to them . . . ‘You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is risen: he is not here. Behold the place where they laid him’” (Mark 16:5–6; Matt. 28:5–6).51 Hence, according to the Gospel accounts and the church fathers, the tomb should be empty; no figure should be lying within, as there is in this image.52 If one interprets the image in the Jewish context, however, the midrashic commentary provides an answer to the questions surrounding this figure in the tomb. In the Midrash, the text of Psalm 16, Hebrew verse 9 is understood as being in the voice of David: “My heart rejoices 28 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

and my soul is elated, my flesh [or ‘my body,’ besari53], too, rests in confidence [or ‘rests secure,’ ‘dwells in safety’].” Some Jewish sages interpreted this passage to mean that after death, David’s flesh was untouched by worms and decay, and that in the grave his flesh would not dissolve like dust. The Midrash says: “My flesh also dwelleth in safety (Ps. 16:9)—dwells in safety even after death. R. Isaac said: This verse proves that neither corruption nor worms had power over David’s flesh.”54 The Talmud corroborates this interpretation: “Our Rabbis taught: There were seven over whom the worms had no dominion, namely, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Moses, Aaron and Miriam, and Benjamin son of Jacob. . . . Some say that David also [is included], since it is written of him, My flesh also shall dwell [in the grave] in safety.”55 Since according to the Midrash and the Talmud the words of the psalm were interpreted as meaning that David’s body would dwell in safety and that neither corruption nor worms would have power over his flesh, a Jewish illustration accompanying this psalm reflecting the Hebrew verse 9 could very well have shown the body of David in the tomb. As is well known, the book of Psalms had a great influence on the authors of the New Testament. And that is the case for Psalm 15/16 in particular. Luke adapted verses 15/16:8–10 of this psalm and incorporated them into Acts 2:25–28. There he interpreted the words of the psalm as if David were prophesying about Jesus seeing the Lord and being reassured by him. Luke tells us, “For David said concerning him [Jesus]: I saw the Lord before my face: because he is at my right hand, that I may not be moved. For this my heart hath been glad, and my tongue hath rejoiced: moreover my flesh also shall rest in hope. Because thou wilt not leave my soul in hell: nor suffer thy Holy One to see corruption.”56 The author of Acts is interpreting these words as a Davidic prophecy that Christ’s

flesh would not see corruption, because he was to be raised by God (Acts 2:31): “Foreseeing this, he [David] spoke of the resurrection of Christ. For neither was he [Christ] left in hell: neither did his flesh see corruption. This Jesus hath God raised again, whereof all we are witnesses.” Hence, from the Christian perspective the words of verses 9–10 in this psalm mean that David foresaw the resurrection of Christ. It is in this context that the motif of the three Marys going to the tomb was connected to the psalm and the scene was drawn into the illustration by the Carolingian artist, even though in the Gospels Christ is not present in the tomb when the Marys arrive. As the angel says, “He is risen: he is not here. Behold the place where they laid him” (Mark 16:5–6; Matt. 28:5–6). Hence, I contend that in the model the Carolingian artist saw a tomb and a figure within it. He adapted the scene by introducing the three Marys and the angel even though he knew that when the Marys arrived, the tomb was empty. He did not eliminate the body from the tomb, a body that, in the model, was David’s. But cognizant of the anomaly, he drew the body very indistinctly. In summary, since the presence in this illustration of a body lying in the tomb as the Marys approach is a direct contradiction of the Gospels (as well as the patristic commentaries and Acts), I conclude that the model for this scene, with a body lying in the tomb, accords with the Jewish interpretation of the figure as David. For according to the midrashic and Talmudic commentaries on this psalm, David’s body dwelt in safety after death and did not decay. When this psalm was interpreted in the Christian context the figure in the tomb was construed as Jesus, and the angel and the three Marys were added as part of the Christian formula. Another motif in this illustration may likewise have been based on a Jewish image that was reinterpreted and given a new Christian

meaning. In the lower left is a cross-nimbed Jesus bending over a pit from which he draws up a man and a woman, a scene traditionally meant to be, in the Christian context, the raising up of Adam and Eve. Dufrenne believed that this was one of the Christological scenes inserted into the Psalter proper by the Carolingian artists.57 From the Christian perspective the motif could be viewed as illustrating verse 10; the Latin is translated, “You will not leave my soul in hell.” In the Christian context, here once again the psalmist’s voice is understood as that of Jesus addressing God.58 The words of the Hebrew text are essentially the same: “You will not abandon me to Sheol.” However, it is possible that this motif existed in a different form in the model. Again this possibility is supported by the Midrash. As mentioned above, in the Hebrew version, the “voice” is understood as David’s, and he is expressing his hope that God will not abandon him to the netherworld. The Midrash, after discussing David’s incorruptible flesh alluded to in verse 9, continues the exposition of the theme with its interpretation of verse 10, where David says to the Lord, “For Thou wilt not abandon my soul to the nether-world (Ps. 16:10): In the grave his flesh will not dissolve like dust. Neither wilt Thou suffer Thy merciful one to see the pit (16:10): A merciful man will not even get the smell of Gehenna [another name for the netherworld].”59 The idea expressed in verse 10 and the Midrash is that a devout man such as David would not even get the scent of death. I suggest that this idea was literally portrayed in a Jewish illustrated version, with the single figure of David coming out from the Pit.60 In place of the figure of Jesus that is now in the image, God’s hand would have been above, directed toward the emerging David. Some scratchy lines in the upper left of the illustration are a possible corroboration of this interpretation. The unexplained pen strokes appear just beneath the Latin words in lingua. The Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 29

scribbles (perhaps the beginnings of a sleeve?) are too amorphous to suggest a precise form. They may, however, be an indication that in the model the hand of God kept David from being abandoned to the lower world, as mentioned in verse 10. The image illustrating this psalm in the Stuttgart Psalter (fol. 16v) presents those very elements.61 The hand of God is at the top of the image, and one large nude figure has been brought out of the underworld, though of course Jesus has been involved in the extracting. At the bottom are two smaller figures that represent Adam and Eve. I propose that the model for this Stuttgart image displayed David coming out of Sheol and the hand of God leading him out, as indicated in verse 10. In this regard, it is interesting to notice that in the lower left margin of the Utrecht Psalter is a very faint “practice drawing” an inch or so below the bending figure of Christ. In the “practice drawing” Jesus leans down in the same way and has the same flying mantle as he does in the final image. I suggest that the bending figure of Jesus was not in the model, and so the artist prepared a practice sketch that he could copy into the illustration. Hence, I would argue that as in the Stuttgart image, the hand of God was in the model for this Utrecht illustration, and it was David who was exiting from the pit. To summarize, when executing this motif, the Utrecht artist, or an intermediary artist, adapted the model by substituting Adam and Eve for David, by deciding to omit the hand of God in the upper left, and by adding the image of Jesus bending over a pit, a form he practiced before inserting it. Very few examples of such marginal sketches exist in the Utrecht Psalter. The artist here was probably trying out his idea, for whatever was or was not present in a possible Jewish model, there was no human form raising a figure

30 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

or figures. It could only have been the hand of God as seen in the Stuttgart Psalter and as possibly adumbrated by the rough lines in the upper left of this image. The rest of the motifs can be explained by both the Latin and the Hebrew texts. Verse 4/5 in the Latin and the Hebrew is read, “The Lord is my allotted portion and my cup.” The Latin words for “my cup” are calicis mei, and the Hebrew word is kosi. In both versions the words can serve as a metaphor for “my destiny” or “my lot.” In a literal visual translation of that verse, the psalmist on the left holds out a cup (his destiny) in his right hand. The verse continues with David saying that he will not “carry their names [the names of idol worshippers] upon [his] lips.” With his left hand David touches his lips, indicating that he will not mention the names of idol worshippers. On the right three men are lying in bed. The motif reflects verse 4: “Their infirmities were multiplied.” To the right of the tomb is a group of men holding books and scrolls, attributes that suggest they are sages or patriarchs. Verse 3 in the Latin calls them “saints”; in the Hebrew they are called “holy ones.” The rope looped in the psalmist’s hand, around his waist, and lying on the ground refers to the idea mentioned in verse 6. Such a rope would be used to measure out his “country” and “estate,” that is, the lands that fell to David.

Psalm 16/1� Being Put Through the “Refining Process”; Enclosed in Their Own Fat; A Portion of Eternal Life Fi gure 7 In the center of this illustration stands the psalmist, holding the scales of justice and looking up toward what would have been the hand of

God. Asking the Lord to hear his cry, he protests his innocence and calls out, “May my judgment be dismissed from before You” (verse 2). Both the Hebrew and the Latin support the idea that David holds the scales of justice as he petitions the Lord. He stands upon a furnace. This is consonant with the verb conflagro, “to blaze up,” in the Latin Vulgate text (verse 3): “Thou hast tried me [or tested me] by fire: and iniquity hath not been found in me.” (In the Gallican text of the Utrecht Psalter the word igne is used, also implying that the psalmist is tested by fire.) Neither fire nor furnace is explicitly mentioned in the Hebrew, a fact that might argue against a Jewish model. However, the Hebrew of verse 3 can be translated as “tested” in the phrase “You have tested me” (tseraftani).62 The word tseraftani literally means “You have put me through the refining process [as in refining metal].”63 Hence for the illustrator of a Jewish

Figure 7 · Psalm 16/17, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 8v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

model the idea of David being metaphorically “put through the refining process” could have evoked the motif of the psalmist standing on top of a furnace. Such a motif would have been appropriate in a Jewish illustrated manuscript to suggest David being “tested” by God. On either side of this image are the “enemies” who surround and threaten David (verses 9–11). They carry spears and shields and are dressed in military garb. Related to the enemies are the small figures at the table on the right. That table bears three breads and two large bowls of food; the figures are eating ravenously. Verse 10 in the Hebrew describes the enemy as being “enclosed in their own fat [ḥelbamo].”64 As Rashi says, their “fatness” has closed up their hearts

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 31

and their eyes, thereby preventing them from beholding the Lord’s deeds and from being in awe of him.65 Their preoccupation with materialism and luxury, symbolized by their ample food, makes them proud and prevents them from being concerned with spiritual matters.66 The table at the left, on the other hand, refers to verse 14, where we see those “whose portion is eternal life, and whose innards You fill with Your concealed treasure.” As the illustration shows, there is no food on the table. The image is in accord with the Hebrew text and commentary: These figures are those whose innards the Lord fills with his “concealed treasure.” “Their portion is eternal life” (verse 14b), and “they bequeath their abundance to their babes” (verse 14c). Indeed, the clothed man in front of the table seems to be a bearded father who bends to hand some food to his nude “babe.” Without the aid of the Jewish commentary the figures at these two tables are interpreted as being the “little ones of the enemy.”67 The meaning of the Hebrew text, on the other hand, differentiates the two groups: those who are “enclosed in their own fat” are on the right, and on the left are those who are filled with God’s “concealed treasure . . . and who bequeath their abundance to their babes” (verse 14b). As shown in the image, the two groups at the tables are rendered in different ways, a difference that is consonant with the Hebrew text. Since the Latin verse 14 is understood as being about the “enemies,” the Christian interpretation of the text and of the accompanying illustration sees all the “babes” as those of the foe. The rest of the motifs on this page accord with both the Hebrew and the Latin texts. In the top center is a winged angel evoked in verse 8: “In the shadow of Your wings hide me.” In the bottom center is a mature lion looking back at a young lion hidden in a cave (verse 12). They

32 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

are likened to the enemy “dwelling in secret places.” The literal illustration of this simile is typical of the Utrecht Psalter, which, we have seen, often presents a direct visual analogue for the text.

Psalm 1�/18 Belial; The Whip of Discipline Fi gure 8 This illustration provides a visual example of the personification of Death, the figure called Belial in English (Beliyaʾal) (verse 5), whose large head appears in the lower right. David is bemoaning that the “ropes of Death encompassed me; torrents of Belial terrified me; ropes of Sheol encircled me” (verses 5–6).68 In postbiblical literature Belial was seen as the Prince of Evil, Satan, a Spirit of Darkness, who causes death and destruction.69 “Belial” is defined as a “counselor of ruin,” “destroyer,” “base wicked thing.”70 He is mentioned in Nahum 1:11, where he is referred to as a “plotter of evil against the Lord.” Early Jewish texts from the second century BCE onward attest to Belial as an evil power par excellence, a power equivalent to the devil or Satan.71 He is also found in the Qumran texts, where he is connected with darkness.72 Therein he is associated with the pit of everlasting fire. At the end of days, he will meet his demise. Though in certain places in the New Testament the word “Belial” is transliterated into the Latin, that is not the case in this psalm. The Gallican and Vulgate texts use the words torrentes iniquitatis, “torrents of iniquity,” where, in the Hebrew (verse 5b), we find the name Belial. The idea of a personified Spirit of Darkness is graphically portrayed in this illustration. As elsewhere in the Utrecht Psalter (for instance, Psalm 1, frontispiece, fol. 1v), this monster’s hair is

wildly streaming from his large, demonic head. A serpent springing from his gaping mouth stings the buttocks of a fallen sinner. This creature of the netherworld is within the confines of the Pit, also referred to as Sheol. The illustration of a specific figure, Belial, and a precise place, Sheol, is not present in the Latin: just as torrentes iniquitatis (torrents of iniquity) is used in verse 5 instead of Belial, so the more vague dolores mortis (17:5) and dolores inferni (17:6) are the Latin phrases used instead of the more specific word for Sheol in the Hebrew. The Latin words do not call forth the picture of this large head with wild hair and an open mouth, nor the netherworld he inhabits. Thus it is more likely that a Jewish model suggested this literal rendering of Belial in Sheol. The psalmist in military garb stands in the lower center with bow and shield (verses 35 and 36). He has been girded in strength (verse 33), and his foot is upon the enemy’s neck (verses 38/39 and 41). Above David are two angels holding a protective cloth. That cloth reflects verses 3 and 36, where the Lord is said to be David’s

Figure 8 · Psalm 17/18, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 9r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

“shield” and to have provided David with his “protection” or “salvation.” The right-hand angel also holds a whip of discipline. The reference to discipline is explicitly stated in the Latin text. Verse 36 in the Latin reads, “Thy discipline hath corrected me unto the end: and thy discipline, the same shall teach me,” et disciplina tua correxit me in finem, et disciplina tua ipsa me docebit. It would seem that the Hebrew does not have the same reference: “Your care [ʿanvatkha] has made me great” (verse 36c). However, the root of this Hebrew word is ayin, nun, vav, and its meaning can be interpreted as “afflict as a discipline” or “with hardship.”73 In 1 Kings 11:39 the root has the meaning of God “chastising” (1 Kings 11:39 NJPS). Hence, like the Latin, the Hebrew verse also suggests discipline and chastising, as well as “care,” and it means that God disciplines in good faith. Since the notion of “afflicting discipline to encourage improvement” is implicit in the

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 33

Hebrew word ʿanvatkha, the whip in the angel’s hand accords with the Hebrew text as well as with the Latin. I propose that when he drew the whip of discipline in the angel’s hand, the illustrator of the model was relying on that root meaning of the Hebrew and on its associations with afflicting punishment. The rest of the motifs are accounted for in either the Latin or the Hebrew text: a hand of the Lord above would have been surrounded by the cherubim and by the three personifications of the winds depicted below the mandorla (verse 11). The hand of God would have held a torch evoked by the mention of smoke and fire coming from his nostrils and mouth (verse 9).74 Three “streams of water” (verse 16) are to the right of the psalmist. A lighted lamp (verse 29) is to his left. From the Temple on the left, God’s sanctuary, he will hear the voice of the psalmist (verse 7b). Angels, who fulfill God’s commands, fight with spears against the enemies (verse 15). Hinds are grazing on the hill to the right (verse 34). Enemies in general are mentioned in many verses (1, 4, 18, 30, 38, 45, 46).

Psalm 18/19 The Personified Sun (or Sun God), Not Jesus, Standing in the Portal of the Tabernacle Fi g u r e 9 As presented above, my hypothesis is that the ninth-century artists were relying for their iconography on a late antique Jewish manuscript dependent on a Hebrew text. The Carolingian artists changed several aspects of the illustrations; for instance, they usually placed Christ where the hand of God had been in the model. In the case of Psalm 18/19 I will argue that the ninth-century artist moved the figure of the personified Sun—which in the model must have

34 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

occupied the entrance to the tabernacle—outside the portal and to the right. The artist then inserted Jesus flanked by two angels into the portal. In an original illustration of the Hebrew text, the personified Sun would have occupied the place where Christ now stands. In the commentaries of the church fathers there is a tradition of seeing Christ as the sun in this psalm, and that tradition must have given rise to the substitution we see in the Utrecht Psalter. I will discuss the patristic commentaries later in this analysis. As frequently occurs in the Utrecht Psalter, David is represented twice in this image. In the lower right he is crowned and seated in a mandorla. He holds a scepter and a sphere akin to the one held by Mother Earth in the illustration to Psalm 49/50, where it represents “the world and its fullness” (fig. 18). In Psalm 18/19 the sphere could symbolize the whole of the heavens from one end to the other (verse 7), that cosmic realm about which David “sings” in the first seven verses. The second representation, center left, has the psalmist standing and holding a book representing the Torah, the testimony to God’s greatness, which far surpasses the heavens (verses 8–11). These two depictions correspond to the two different parts of the psalm, sections that have been recognized as distinct by Jewish commentators throughout the ages.75 As mentioned, the first seven verses deal with the celestial space and the bodies within it. In verse 5b of the Hebrew, the psalmist references the sun: in the midst of the heavenly bodies God has “set up a tent/tabernacle [ohel] for the sun.” The Hebrew word ohel can refer to a “tent of meeting” or a “sacred tent” used in the worship of God.76 The tabernacle in this image is the basilican structure in the upper right. The personified Sun for which God, according to the Hebrew version, has set up the tabernacle, has

been drawn to the right of the structure. The sun there is holding a torch and is dressed in his usual radiating crown and a cloak fastened on his right shoulder. Depicted in that manner, he resembles the sun god present in synagogue pavements from the late antique period.77 Contrary to the sense of the Hebrew verse, however, in this ninth-century adaptation of the visual model, the tabernacle has not been “set up for the sun”: the personified Sun is not present in its sacred portal. He has been displaced and put on the right in order to accommodate the figure of Christ. I will argue that this is another case where a Carolingian artist has inserted Christ into the image. This substitution of Christ for the sun god, who must have stood at the portal of the tabernacle, reflects the Latin text and the commentary of the church fathers. The Latin Vulgate and Gallican texts corresponding to this motif read: In sole posuit

Figure 9 · Psalm 18/19, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 10v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

tabernaculum suum, “He has set His tabernacle in the sun” (verse 6). Note that the understanding is that “He” set up “His” tabernacle “in the sun” (emphasis mine). The “sun” in this verse is a place. The writings of the church fathers corroborate this reading. Augustine parses verse 6 (5 in the Latin text) as “‘In the sun hath He set His tabernacle’ . . . set so to say His military dwelling, that is, the dispensation of His incarnation [Christ].”78 So the incarnate Christ is set in a tabernacle or “dwelling,” just as we see in the image. Cassiodorus also interprets the tabernacle in this verse as the “dwelling place of Christ’s body.”79 The Hebrew, as mentioned, is different: “In their [the heavenly bodies’] midst, He has set up a tabernacle for the sun

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 35

[lashemesh]” (verse 5b; emphasis mine). In the Hebrew, the sun’s place is in the tabernacle that God has set up for it. However, given the Christian understanding that the tabernacle was set up for Christ, I believe the Carolingian artist substituted Christ’s figure for the original personified Sun that must have been standing in the portal—the portal of the tabernacle that, according to the original Hebrew text, God had set up for the sun. This Utrecht substitution reflects the Christian interpretation supported by the Latin text and the patristic commentaries. In the Christological reading, the tabernacle is understood as Christ’s dwelling, and in the Utrecht illustration, Christ is depicted at its portal in the place of the personified Sun, a figure that would have been there in a Jewish version. (See below for discussion of the sun god in Jewish art.) It is interesting to note that Christ holds a spear, a possible reference to Augustine’s characterization of the tabernacle as “His military dwelling.” The Latin of the next verse reads: “And He as a bridegroom coming forth out of His chamber” (verse 5). Augustine interprets this to mean “And He [Christ], coming forth out of the Virgin’s womb, where God was united to man’s nature as a bridegroom to a bride.”80 Cassiodorus writes that the bridegroom is Christ “nuptially” [sic] united with the church. He comes out of the bridechamber (the “virginal womb”) to “reconcile the world to the Godhead.”81 The idea that Christ is the bridegroom in this psalm is in accord with a long-standing Christological interpretation, a tradition that likely influenced the Utrecht artist copying the model. In the Hebrew, however, as we saw, the tabernacle is “for the sun” (verse 5b), and the sun is the subject of the next verse: “The sun is like a bridegroom coming forth from his bridal chamber” (verse 6a). Since in the Hebrew it is clear that the tabernacle was set up “for the sun,” and the

36 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

reference to a bridegroom and his chamber is a metaphor for the sun’s appearance, an image dependent on a Hebrew text would have represented the personified Sun standing at the portal of the tabernacle/bridal chamber. I believe that was the way the motif was drawn in the model. The sun would be coming out of the “bridal chamber” to begin his circuit across the sky. Given, however, the Christian understanding of verses 18/19:5–6a, the Utrecht artist must have moved that personified Sun to the right and substituted Christ the bridegroom at the threshold of the tabernacle. The argument that the sun god was the figure at the portal in the model is supported by a literal reading of the Hebrew for verses 6 and 7. Verse 6 reads: “The sun is like a bridegroom coming forth from his bridal chamber [ḥuppah].” A ḥuppah is the wedding canopy under which the bride and groom stand at the marriage ceremony; it is here understood by Jewish commentators as meaning a “bridal chamber.”82 In the Hebrew the sun is like a handsome bridegroom. In the Latin the “He” who set up the tabernacle is understood as the same “He” who is the bridegroom exiting from the bridal chamber: In sole posuit tabernaculum suum; et ipse tamquam sponsus procedens de thalamo suo exsultavit, “He hath set His tabernacle in the sun: And He as a bridegroom coming out of His bridal chamber hath rejoiced.”83 If, however, one thinks about the implications of the language of the psalm, it is clear that a figure of Jesus at the portal of this tabernacle is inappropriate, for, if taken literally, the verse interpreted by the church fathers as referring to Christ as a bridegroom is suggestive of the carnal, since Christ would be “coming forth from his bridal chamber, rejoicing.” The idea of carnality is present in the midrashic commentary on verse 19:6 where it is evident that

the metaphor of the sun/bridegroom coming out of his chamber has a sexual connotation. The Midrash glosses it in reference to Leviticus 15:18, which refers to the “unclean” flow of seed that comes out from a man when he lies carnally with a woman. The Midrash says, “Like a bridegroom entering the bridal chamber clean and coming out of it defiled, so the sun is clean upon its entering the world and defiled on its coming out.”84 Given the connotation of the Hebrew words and the midrashic commentary, it is perfectly fitting for a Jewish model to have represented the “unclean” sun god coming forth from his bridal chamber after spending the night therein. This notion of the figure being “unclean” is appropriate for a personified Sun. But it is not appropriate for Jesus. I suggest that the Carolingian artist who placed the figure of Christ at the portal instead of the sun god that was in the model did not realize that this placement is not fitting for Jesus. In the Jewish context, however, it is possible to imagine that the representation of the sun god now situated to the right of the tent/tabernacle would originally have been at the portal and would have been the metaphorical bridegroom shown as exiting his “bridal chamber” after spending the night therein. The Midrash also hints at the reason for the need for the two angels supporting the figure emerging from the portal. According to that commentary, the sun is “weak” after having spent the night within. A fatigued sun god would have been most fitting in the Jewish context, since, as the Midrash says, just as the sun is “like a bridegroom, who is strong entering the bridal chamber and weak coming out, so the sun is strong entering upon its course, but—because of men’s [or creatures’] sins—is weak coming out.”85 Those who created the model understood the midrashic mention of men’s sins [or

creatures’ sins] as a reference to sexual sin, and it is in that context that the sun god coming out of the “chamber” would have been “weak.” The Utrecht image does indeed show Jesus as “weak” coming out of the chamber, since two angels support him. This iconography would have been fitting for a sun god exiting the metaphorical “bridal chamber,” but it is not suitable for Jesus, though the Utrecht artists were probably not aware of the inappropriateness of their substitution. Or could one dare suggest that they did understand? Could it be that the Carolingian artist was punning when he had the spear in Christ’s hand pointing in a distinctly downward direction? Or was he merely copying the image of the sun god in a Jewish model? If a sun god did hold something at that angle, it would have been his torch. To sum up this section, the figure of the sun god, now positioned to the right of the tabernacle, would, in a Jewish model, have been placed on the steps of the tabernacle where the figure of Christ now stands. The image of a sun god as a metaphorical “bridegroom” supported by angels and with his spear or torch pointed downward is appropriate for a sun god, but not for Jesus. The bridegroom/sun god is said to be like a strongman/warrior (gibbor) ready to “run the course” (verse 6b). The large figure of the strongman is at the left. This strongman/warrior holds a spear and shield, and he has an animal skin covering his lower torso. The animal’s head wraps around his genital region, and its tail flies out behind him. His stance shows that he is ready to “run the course.” Metaphorically, his “course” is the “circuit” of the sun—“His rising-place is at one end of heaven, and his circuit reaches the other”—an apt figure for the sun that comes up over the horizon at one end of heaven, and continues across and down to the

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 37

other end. “Nothing escapes his heat” (verse 7c); that is, nothing escapes the heat of the sun as it goes across the sky.86 In both the Latin and the Hebrew of verses 2 and 3, the “Heavens,” “Sky,” “Day,” and “Night” are all personified. Two “moons” and two “suns” appear at the top of the image.87 These heavenly personifications are nodding to each other, and the text tells us they are speaking: “Day is uttering to Day, Night to Night speaks out.” The verbs in these verses are all about communication: declaring (or recounting), proclaiming (or telling), uttering, and disclosing. The “heavens recount,” the “sky tells”; “day following day” is uttering, and “night to night is disclosing knowledge.” Personifications of this kind are common in late antique pagan and Christian art. They are also common in Jewish art of the same period.88 Their presence in the Utrecht imagery may mirror their acceptance by Jewish commentators. For instance, the Midrash on this psalm mentions the human attributes of nonliving things that God has made, thereby acknowledging the idea of personification.89 Citing various biblical verses (Jer. 22:29; Exod. 15:8; Ezek. 38:12; Num. 16:32; Ps. 114:3), the Midrash ascribes to the earth and the sea such features as heads, eyes, hands, ears, and a heart. Though these features of nonliving things cannot be seen by mortals, they are visible “in the sight of the Holy One.”90 As the Midrash states, among God’s creations is heaven, which, in the sight of God, has a heart, for it is said, “And he came near . . . and the mountain burned with fire unto the heart of heaven (Deut. 4.11).” Also the earth has a navel, a mouth, feet, and haunches.91 The Midrash on these verses ends with the quote “In the sight of the Holy One, blessed be He, heaven has a mouth, as is said, ‘The heavens declare the glory of God.’”92 Since the Jewish tradition as spelled out in the Midrash allows for a metaphorical understanding of heavenly 38 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

bodies as having heads, with the expected facial features, including mouths, one should not be surprised to find personifications in Jewish art shown as speaking to each other, as in this illustration. A Jewish model for this image could very well have represented heaven with these two pairs of personifications, each wearing the appropriate crown of sun’s rays or crescent moons. Thus, in the illustration to Psalm 18/19, the personifications not only of the sun, but also of day and night, are in accord with the Jewish visual and textual tradition. Verse 5a can be translated in two ways, depending on how one interprets the word kavvam: on the one hand, kavvam can be understood as “their voice,” referring to the “sound” made by the “chord” and “the music” created by the celestial bodies. “Their voice [or music] goes forth throughout the earth.”93 Such a translation would continue the metaphor of communication articulated in the earlier verses. However, the word kavvam can also be translated as “their line,” as in a measuring line, in which case the word would be referring to the perfection of the line or circuit of the celestial structures that stretches out to the ends of the earth.94 Given that in this image there is such emphasis on the “speaking” celestial bodies and that they bend toward each other to “talk,” I propose that kavvam was understood as referring to “voice” in any late antique Jewish illustrated model. In other places in the Utrecht Psalter the motif of a measuring line is represented, but no sign of one appears in this illustration.95 As mentioned, the second part of the psalm, verses 8–11, is about torah, or instruction. The Torah and its “testimonies,” “orders,” and “commands” are “trustworthy” and “upright.” Those instructions are written in the book held by the psalmist; one can see the dots and lines representing the words. He is teaching and “making wise” the “simple ones,” the children gathered at

his feet and the other rather short, young-looking figures at the far right. Twelve figures are in each group, a possible reference to the twelve tribes of Israel. The “commands” have also been written on the scrolls held by the men in the upper left; they are studying and discussing the “testimonies.” On the circular table near the psalmist are the objects referenced in verse 11: the golden crown, golden vessel, and the honeycomb in the dish at the left. Learning about the judgments of the Lord is more desirable than having luxuries of gold, and those judgments are “sweeter than honey . . . dripping from the combs.”

Psalm 21/22 The Enthroned, Seminude Queen Esther; The Lots Machine Fi g u r e 1 0 Psalm 21/22 is one of the eight or so Utrecht Psalter illustrations where Carolingian artists

added Christian imagery, here specifically related to Christ’s passion.96 In the center right, the ninth-century artist drew the cross, the sponge on a pole, the spear, the crown of thorns, and the whip. The reason for the insertion is clear. Matthew (27:46) and Mark (15:34) report that when Jesus was on the cross, he uttered the words of this psalm (verse 2): “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” As is evident from the patristic commentaries, the psalm is considered one where David prophetically foresaw the suffering of Jesus. Augustine tells his readers, “Now what follows is spoken in the person of The Crucified. For from the head of this Psalm are the words, which He cried out, whilst hanging on the Cross.”97 It is therefore understandable that a Christian artist would have chosen to add the cross and the instruments of the passion to this illustration.98 Figure 10 · Psalm 21/22, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 12r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 39

If, however, we ignore the Carolingian additions of the cross and the passion instruments, we realize that nothing connects the remaining motifs specifically to Christ. That being the case, one might assume that the motifs reflect a reading of the psalm as if it were in the voice of David. However, the only two elements in the illustration relating specifically to David are his presence in the sarcophagus that is being set down into the “dust of death” (verse 16b), and the water flowing from the vessel in his left hand, illustrating verse 15a: “I am poured out like water,” meaning “My life ebbs away.” A most puzzling element, the seated seminude woman, cannot be accounted for at all by a Davidic reading. I will argue that the woman represents Queen Esther, a figure much discussed in the midrashic commentary on this psalm. Apart from the passion instruments, and the specific Davidic motifs mentioned above, this Utrecht illustration can be seen as relating to Esther as well as to David, for the majority of the motifs reflect the Esther story. As I will show, that is the reading that best explains the cryptic seminude enthroned woman. Furthermore, imagery relating to Esther appears in late antique Jewish art. Two episodes from her narrative (the Triumph of Mordecai, and Ahasuerus and Esther) were painted on the west wall of the synagogue at Dura Europos. The Midrash elaborates on the idea that David prophetically wrote Psalm 21/22 in the voice of Queen Esther, and that in doing so, he foresaw events that were to occur hundreds of years after his time. This is clear from the rabbis’ exposition of a phrase occurring in verses 1a and 20b: Ayyeleth ha-shahar. The meaning of the phrase in Hebrew is uncertain.99 In the Midrash on verse 20, it is interpreted to mean “O my Strength,” an apostrophe by which Esther called upon the Lord: “Now because Esther perceived and understood what was going on, she prayed 40 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

and said: Be not Thou far from me, O Lord, O my Strength, haste Thee to help me (Ps. 22:20). As soon as David foresaw by the help of the Holy Spirit that O my strength (Aijeleth) was the apostrophe wherewith she [Esther] would call upon the Holy One, blessed be He, David, thinking upon Esther, arranged this Psalm For the leader; upon Aijeleth hash-Shahar.”100 From this commentary we learn that Ayyeleth is interpreted to mean “O my Strength,” understood as Esther calling on God: “O God, my strength.” More importantly, we also discover that, according to this midrashic opinion, David composed the psalm for Esther. The second meaning in the Midrash attributed to the word Ayyeleth is “hind.” The Midrash says, “In this Psalm . . . the hind of the morning refers to Esther.”101 The Talmud further illuminates Ayyeleth: “R. Zera said: Why was Esther compared to a hind? To tell you that just as a hind has a narrow womb and is desirable to her mate at all times as at the first time, so was Esther precious to King Ahasuerus at all times as at the first time.”102 So whether the term Ayyeleth means “hind” referring to Esther, or is the word used by Esther to call on God, this psalm brings us into the world of the Jewish queen. God’s hand at the top has been interpreted as pointing in the direction of David standing in the sarcophagus, but it can also be seen as pointing toward the woman with bare breasts seated on a throne. Commentators who were not considering a possible Jewish source have thought that she illustrated verse 10: “When I was [secure on] my mother’s breasts.”103 However, verse 10 is actually illustrated on the far left of the image, for among the women holding their babies, one is specifically a nursing mother. So a woman who merely has exposed breasts and holds no infant does not pertain to verse 10. The enthroned partially nude woman is more convincingly

interpreted as Esther. Her story is told in the book of Esther, the Megillah, a text generally dated to the late fourth or early third century BCE.104 There we learn that when the Jews were exiled in Persia, the king, Ahasuerus, had a vizier named Haman, who urged the ruler “to destroy, to slay, and to cause to perish, all Jews (Esther 3:13).”105 Esther’s reaction upon hearing the news is interpreted as being recorded in verse 15b: “My heart is like wax, melted within my innards.” The literal illustration of the idea of Esther’s heart melting like wax is the candle in the center right of the image. When Esther heard that her people were to be destroyed, she decided to approach King Ahasuerus and plead for their lives. She would go without being summoned, a crime punishable by death.106 In preparation she proclaimed that all the Jews of the town should pray and fast with her for three days so that the king would receive her and not have her slain. It was during those three dark days of prayer and fasting that the Midrash says Esther called out to God, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?”107 Elsewhere in the Midrash the verse is glossed in the following way: “On the first day of a fast, one says: ‘My God’; on the second day, one says: ‘My God’; only on the third may one say ‘Why hast Thou forsaken me?’ So it was only after Esther cried in a loud voice, ‘Why hast Thou forsaken me?’ that her cry was heard.”108 Another account of Esther’s cry is given later in the Midrash: “Esther said: My God, Thou wert at the Red Sea; my God, Thou wert at Sinai. Why hast Thou Forsaken me? . . . Our mother Sarah was taken for only a single night unto Pharaoh, and he and all the people of his house were smitten with great plagues . . . (Gen. 12.17); but I who have been forced all these years to endure the embrace of such a wicked person—for me, Thou workest no miracles.”109 Perhaps the forward thrust of the queen’s upper body and the

open palm of her right hand should be seen as reflective of a “pleading” position. Verses 3–6, referencing God’s deliverance of Israel, are likewise interpreted in the Midrash from the perspective of Esther. The commentary says that in these verses Esther remembers the deliverance from Egypt and compares those ordeals to the trials that Haman was planning for the Jews. Esther says to God, “Those who were in Egypt Thou didst hear at once when they cried out; but to us who have been fasting for these three days and praying and crying and calling, Thou dost not reply: . . . Deal Mercifully with us for the hallowing of Thy name.”110 Other verses in the psalm, such as verse 12, are also interpreted as Esther’s words. She cried out, “[Lord] Be not far from me” when she feared the destruction of her people (Esther 3:13).111 These and numerous other references to Esther in the Midrash on this psalm support the suggestion that the enthroned woman at the right of the illustration could be identified as the Jewish queen. But why would Queen Esther be partially nude? The Midrash offers an explanation. As we saw, Esther was fasting and praying for God’s help because she intended to approach the king without being summoned, an act punishable by death. The people in the palace knew of the king’s decree, and they began to suspect that Esther would be killed for attempting to approach the monarch without being called upon. According to the Midrash, “The people of the palace began to say: ‘Now the king will be angry at Esther, and death will be decreed for her.’ And every one said: ‘I shall take Esther’s apparel,’ this one saying ‘Me, I shall take her ornaments’; and that one saying ‘Me, I shall take her earrings’; and another one saying ‘Me, I shall take her royal vesture,’ as is known from Esther’s statement: They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture (Ps. 22:19).”112 Since Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 41

the Midrash has Esther saying, “They divide my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture,” one should interpret the central bottom image in that light. There two people divide a garment; behind them is a “lots machine,” with a vessel for holding the lots suspended from a horizontal bar supported by two posts with a crossbar above.113 The vessel with lots in it refers to Esther’s words: “[They] cast lots for my clothing.” The Midrash goes on to say that “they were casting lots for [Esther’s] royal cloak, which it is not seemly for commoners to use.”114 Hence, this commentary explains not only Esther’s partial nudity, since it alludes to those in the palace dividing her garments and taking her royal vesture; it also explains why there is a lots machine front and center in this image. The lots are in the vessel supported by the central horizontal bar attached to the two uprights. The prominence of the lots machine has been seen as a Christian addition, for casting lots is mentioned in Matthew 27:35–36: “When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots” (see also Mark 15:24 and John 19:24). Because of its inclusion in the Gospel text, the casting of lots and the struggle over the clothing were integrated into the illustrations of the passion cycle, and could well have been in an Early Christian illustrated psalter. However, a lots machine was not necessarily a Christian addition. It could have been in an original Jewish model, since lots are most pertinent to the Esther story. For one, the holiday that celebrates Esther’s saving the Jews is called the Feast of Lots, or Purim (pur, “lot”). Haman cast lots in order to determine the best day and month to destroy the Jews (Esther 3:7). Furthermore, as we saw, verse 19—“They divide my garments among them, and cast lots for my clothing”—is interpreted in the Midrash as being the words of Esther, and is meant to refer to those in the palace who, after they learned that she was 42 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

approaching the king without being summoned, assumed she would be killed. So they cast lots for her clothing and fought over her garments, as do the figures in the foreground of this illustration. Since this very form of a lots machine was known in late antiquity, it could have been adopted in a Jewish, as well as a Christian, model. The Midrash also offers explanations for connecting Esther to other parts of the text and to motifs in the illustration of this psalm. Above and below the enthroned woman are the threatening animals. Verse 13 says, “Many bulls surround me.” Certainly these words could have been understood as being spoken by David, but according to one midrashic interpretation, the bulls refer to the sons of Haman or their agents, who surround Esther in the palace, “waiting for Esther to fall.”115 Or, the Midrash tells us, the bulls can symbolize those agents who, against her will, sought to have Esther brought to King Ahasuerus and crowned queen. That interpretation rests upon a play on the Hebrew word kitteruni, which, as we saw above, can mean “surround me,” as in “many [bulls] surround me.” The word for “crown,” keter, derives from the same root and is used in reference to a queen in the book of Esther (1:11 and 2:17).116 Rashi interprets kitteruni as meaning “surround me like a crown [keter], which encircles the head.”117 Hence the phrase could also be metaphorically interpreted to read “They crown me,” in which case it could refer to “the hosts of Ahasuerus,” who [like bulls] discovered the beautiful Esther and sought to have her crowned queen against her will.118 At any rate, the threatening bulls, symbolic of the sons of Haman or of the hosts of Ahasuerus, are pictured directly above Esther, in the cleft between the hills. Verse 17 is glossed in the Midrash in a similar manner: “For dogs have compassed me (Ps. 22:17)—that is, Haman’s sons have compassed me.”119 Below the enthroned Esther is

the pack of dogs that the Midrash interprets as Haman’s sons. Like the bulls, the dogs could be seen as threatening David in the sarcophagus, but in this illustration they are near Esther as well. A lion with a short, curly mane rears up at the head of the pack of dogs. The lion is also referenced in the account of Esther in the Midrash: “They gaped upon me with their mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion (Ps. 22:14) implies that Esther said: As a lion crouches upon his prey and ravens it, so Ahasuerus crouches upon me and ravishes me.”120 Perhaps in the model the lion was positioned to threaten Esther as well as David, though that is not the case here. One must keep in mind that the Utrecht artist would have had no idea of the identity of the enthroned, partially nude female in the model nor her relationship to the potentially ravishing lion. The nursing mother on the left of the image can likewise be understood in light of the life of Esther as interpreted in the Midrash: “Thou keptest me in safety, when I was upon my mother’s breast (Ps. 22:10) means that Esther said: ‘After my mother conceived me, my father died; and my mother died while giving birth to me. But Thou keptest me safe, for Thou gavest me breasts in place of my mother’s breasts.’ Mordecai [Esther’s uncle] . . . brought up Hadassah, that is Esther (Esther 2:7) is to say that Mordecai’s wife gave suck to Esther, and that Mordecai brought her up.”121 At the left of the illustration, several babies are snuggling in their mothers’ laps; one infant, the baby farthest to the right, is actually nursing. The nursing baby certainly could be David, but it could also be meant to represent Esther nursing at the breast of Mordecai’s wife. The enemies holding spears and shields on both sides of the picture can also relate to Esther: the Midrash comments on verse 8: “All they that see me laugh me to scorn; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head (Ps. 22:8) refers to

Haman’s sons who laughed Jews to scorn [sic], shot out their lips at them, and shook their heads at them, saying, ‘On the morrow these will be slain, or hanged.’”122 The enemies can be understood as those of Esther as well as of David. Other motifs can also reflect the Esther story. The evocation of day and night, symbolized by the bust of the sun in the upper left and the crescent moon and stars on the right, are in accord with the midrashic comment on verse 3, put into the mouth of Esther: “O my God, I cry in the day-time, but Thou hearest not; and in the night-season also I take no rest (Ps. 22:3). . . . Esther said: ‘We have fasted and afflicted our souls, beseeching Thee and praying both day and night, but Thou hast done no miracles for us, neither by day, nor by night.’”123 Elsewhere in the Midrash Esther is likened to the dawn and Haman to the setting stars: “When the dawn awakes the stars set, and so in the court of Ahasuerus, as Esther awakened, the stars of Haman and his sons set.”124 In the center left, five people are eating around a table (verse 27): “The humble will eat and be satisfied.” In the Jewish tradition, that verse is connected to the Esther story. When gentiles like Ahasuerus eat and drink, they talk of obscene things, such as the beauty of their women. Ahasuerus, for example, claimed that Vashti, one of his wives, was the most beautiful of all. And shamefully, he decreed that she should be stripped naked.125 Whereas when Jews feast, after they eat and drink, they begin to discuss the Torah and sing praises to God. Verse 27 is said to allude to this practice. The humble of Israel are pictured eating at the round table, and when they are satisfied, they will praise the Lord. On the left a group of men is standing in the portal of the Temple. One of the midrashic interpretations of 27b and 27c connects that motif to the Esther story: “By They that seek Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 43

after the Lord shall praise Him is meant those who unsparingly occupy themselves in study of torah; and by Your heart shall live for ever is meant the building of the Temple.”126 In one Jewish tradition, that verse is seen as a reference to those who responded to Cyrus’s invitation to the Jews exiled in Persia to return to Judah and rebuild the Temple.127 The list of the returnees is prefaced by a record of prominent men, among whom is a man named Mordecai. Some rabbinic sources suggest that this is the same Mordecai as in the book of Esther, and that he returned to Judah with those exiles mentioned in Ezra 2, though this is unlikely.128 However, the rabbinic tradition persisted.129 These returnees had Zerubbabel at their head, the same king who was intimately involved in the rebuilding of the Temple. Thus in the rabbinic tradition, Mordecai was among those who returned to rebuild the Temple, the structure pictured on the left with a group of men at the portal. As mentioned, commentators interpreting the illustrations through a Christian lens have related this psalm to Jesus, since verse 2 is quoted in the Gospels. In the Jewish context, as I have shown, only two of the motifs must relate to David: the sarcophagus and the water. The motif of the unicorn or wild ox (remim) near the tomb has no biblical connection to David, though he (or indeed Esther) could be asking for protection from its horns (verse 22).130 The other motifs— with the exception, of course, of the inserted cross and instruments of the passion—are, I believe, connected to the Jewish queen. Jewish commentators knew that the events relating to Esther in the midrashic text of this psalm occurred hundreds of years after David’s time. They believed, however, that with the Holy Spirit hovering over David—the personification we saw illustrated in Psalm 1—the psalmist could foresee the Babylonian and Persian exiles as well as the threat posed by Haman. 44 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

According to Jewish sages, this prophetic insight influenced David’s actions during his life. They point to events in 2 Samuel 16:5–13 as relating to the way David foresaw that Esther would save the Jews of Persia. In that story, David would not allow his men to kill Shimi, even though the man deserved to be put to death for casting stones at the king. The Talmud (Megillah 12b–13a) says that David could foresee that Mordecai (and also Esther), were destined to descend from Shimi: “David did not kill Shimi from whom was descended Mordecai.”131 The sages believed that since the salvation of Israel was at stake, David forfeited his own dignity and allowed Shimi to go unpunished for the sake of saving the children of Israel. If David had killed Shimi, the Purim miracle would not have come to pass. But it did, through the prayers and heroic actions of Queen Esther.

Psalm 24/25 The Empty Quiver; The Personification of “Paths” Fi gure 1 1 In the upper right of this illustration, the psalmist lifts his arms toward what would have been the hand of God holding an unfurled scroll. He is saying to the Lord, “Teach me Your paths” (verse 4). The scroll, with faint dots of “writing” on it, represents God’s teachings. The army of the enemy stands in the lower left. To their right, two soldiers display their bows as if to exult over the psalmist. Verse 2b reads, “Let not my enemies exult over me.” As Van der Horst has pointed out, though they hold bows, they have no arrows, so the men reach back to receive arrows from the quiver held by their comrade. But the last arrow has been extracted from the quiver, so it is now empty. That motif has been interpreted to reflect the Latin verse

4: “Confundantur omnes iniqua agentes supervacue. Let all them be confounded that act unjust things without cause.”132 Van der Horst noticed that the Latin of verse 4 provides no explanation of the motif. The usual meaning of the Latin word supervacue (here translated as “without cause”) is “superfluously.” Nowhere is it translated as “empty.”133 Van der Horst has pointed out that the Septuagint does provide a translation that illuminates the motif: the Greek text has the phrase dia kenes, which here can mean “empty.” The Hebrew text, however, also provides a specific textual analogue for the motif of the empty quiver. Verse 3 can be translated as “O let none who look to You be disappointed; let the faithless be disappointed, empty-handed [reiqam].”134 The psalmist prays that the traitor should have no weapons to use against him; hence the artist produced a literal image of a quiver with no arrows in it, for the quiver is empty (reiqam). The use of the Hebrew word

Figure 11 · Psalm 24/25, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 14r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

for “in empty condition” must have suggested to the artist of the model the depiction of that empty quiver in the hands of the traitor. Since the Hebrew word more accurately reflects the image than does the Latin word supervacue, the Hebrew text is more likely to have been the source of the motif, thus supporting my theory that the model for the Utrecht Psalter was created in a Jewish milieu. It is the Hebrew text that provides the answer to the mystery of the empty quiver: its presence shows that with God’s help the enemy will come up empty-handed, figuratively with a quiver that has no arrows. In the bottom center is a woman standing next to an urn and handing out scrolls. It has been suggested that she might reflect the Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 45

commentary of Augustine, who personifies the church at the beginning of his discussion of this psalm.135 I propose that she is the personification of what both the Latin and the Hebrew term the “Ways [or Paths] of the Lord ” (Latin Ps. 24:4 and 24:10, and Hebrew Ps. 25:4 and 25:10). Those paths are defined as “mercy and truth to them that seek after His covenant and His testimonies” (verse 10). The scrolls in the urn represent “[His] covenant and His testimonies.” The woman is their guardian. In both languages the words translated as “Ways” or “Paths” are feminine, and thus would evoke a female personification.136 The personification of the Lord’s “Ways” is appropriate in this psalm in which a major theme is finding the correct “path.” The woman is passing out the Lord’s covenant to the humble (verse 9) so that those who receive it will discover that correct path. The man on her left reflects verses 12–13. He is the one who is fearful of the Lord and whose “soul will rest in goodness, and his descendants will inherit the land.” Those descendants are receiving scrolls from his hands. One senses that the lame and the poor on the right, those in “distress,” will also receive the scrolls, which spell out the ways of the Lord (verse 22).

Psalm 25/26 The Divine Test; David “Corrected” by the Lord Fi g u r e 1 2 Front and center in this illustration are two men beating a nude figure whose foot is chained to a peg set in the earth. Another man sitting on the ground below is also being beaten. These beatings have been explained as referring to verse 9: “Gather not my soul with sinners; nor my life with men of bloodshed.” According to that

46 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

interpretation, the tormenters are meant to represent the sinners/men of bloodshed.137 Another possible interpretation suggests itself, however, if one takes into account the Hebrew text and the midrashic commentary. In this psalm David is making a plea to receive divine justice. He says to the Lord, “Judge me” (shofteni, verse 1), and “try me,” “test me,” or “examine me” (beḥoneni, verse 2). The word beḥoneni also means “prove me,” as one would “test” or “examine” a specimen of gold.138 David continues in verse 2b by asking God to “refine” (tsarefah) his intellect and his heart. He is asking the Lord to purge him of all grossness, as one would refine a piece of silver (verse 2).139 Hence, the psalmist asks to be tested and refined, words relating to purifying through fire. The Latin also evokes the idea of “refining” and “burning.” “Proba me, Domine, et tenta me; ure renes meos et cor meum. Prove me, examine me, try me, Lord; burn my kidneys [intellect] and my heart.” Thus the motif on the left—the psalmist standing on top of the fiery furnace to be purged of all grossness—could have been suggested by either the Latin or the Hebrew text. Beḥoneni also denotes the idea of being “judged” or “tried” through a divine test. That is the meaning taken up in the Midrash. There the text is interpreted as signifying “correct me” or “reprove me,” words that David addresses to God. In the Midrash, verse 2 is glossed in terms of Proverb 12:1: “Whoso loveth correction, loveth knowledge; but he that hateth reproof is brutish.”140 The commentary then sets forth the story of four men who in Scripture have been smitten or afflicted. One is Job, who was smitten and rebelled. The second is Abraham, whose situation is compared to the man who swore that he would discipline his son with beatings: “The son replied: ‘Thine is the power!’”141 The father beat him and beat him, thinking

the son would cry out “enough.” However, the son never uttered so much as a groan of complaint. Eventually, the father was forced to stop the beating and to say “enough”! For the Lord came to him and said, “I am He who said to My world: ‘It is enough!’”142 A third man, not pertinent to our image, is Hezekiah, king of Judah. The fourth figure is David, who saw the whip and asked for a divine test, saying, “Why is the lash held back? Strike me again!”143 The Midrash cites David’s words in Psalm 94:12: “Blessed is the man whom Thou chastenest, O Lord, and teachest him out of Thy law.”144 The commentary, glossing verse 26:2, goes on with David’s words: “Examine me, O Lord, and prove me . . . as Thou didst prove Abraham . . . as Thou didst prove Isaac, who being proved on the altar stood up to it. And I, am I without merit?”145 As the commentary shows, this interpretation of the words “judge me” in verse 1 and “prove me” in verse 2 is connected to reproof

Figure 12 · Psalm 25/26, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 14v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

and correction. “Judge me” is first linked to Abraham, who is like a son to God, the “son” who would not cry out and accepted whatever punishment his father inflicted. And verse 2— “Examine me, Lord, and test me [prove me]”— are the words of David, who called out, “Why is the lash held back? Strike me again!”146 Hence I propose that the Midrash on Psalm 26 explains the two actions taking place in the middle of the image. The central figure being beaten is the psalmist, and the individual on the ground is the son. Both were subjected to beatings according to the midrashic commentary on verses 1 and 2. The centrality of the motif and its prominence argue for the figure being David, in accord with the interpretation of this psalm in the

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 47

Midrash. None of the pertinent church fathers who comment on this psalm make reference to punishment here.147 Only the Midrash explains the motif. The rest of the motifs in the illustration are the typical literal depictions found throughout the Utrecht Psalter. The “false men . . . hypocrites . . . evildoers . . . wicked,” with whom the psalmist will not sit, are in the lower right (verses 3–5). Also gathered there are the “sinners . . . [and] men of bloodshed” whose hands are full of “conspiracy” and “bribery” (verses 9–10). They take bribes with open arms, and winged demons whisper in their ears. The souls of these men will be thrown into the pit in the lower right. The head of Belial is faintly drawn within it. Toward the top center are an aqueduct and a fountain with water sprouting from the mouth Figure 13 · Psalm 29/30, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 16v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

48 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

of a lion; several nude figures wash their hands, thereby evoking the words, “I wash my hands in innocence” (verse 6a). The psalmist writes about circling around the altar of the Lord (verse 6b). The Lord’s altars can be seen at or near the thresholds of the structures at the left and in the upper right. The building on the left represents the house in which the Lord dwells and the place in which his glory resides (verse 8). The two structures on the right are places of assembly (verse 12).

Psalm 29/30 Healed, Not Resurrected; The Three Angels; Dancing Fi gure 1 3 This psalm was perhaps originally a hymn of Thanksgiving upon recovering from serious illness.148 That is indeed the meaning we see illustrated. The primary visual motif is David being

literally “drawn up” from a tomb. In the model the implication would be that he is “drawn up” by the hand of God present at the top of the illustration. God has saved David from Sheol (the netherworld) and preserved him from the pit shown in the bottom left (verses 2–4, 10). David says, “My God, I cried out to You, and You healed me. Lord You have raised up my soul from the Lower World, You have preserved me lest I descend to the pit” (verses 3–4).149 The language of the Hebrew psalm implies that God brought the psalmist back from a near-death state; he did not actually let him die.150 In the image we likewise see that David is not going down into Sheol; the demons who attack him on the left will not succeed, for he has recovered from his serious illness and stands erect. Influenced by the pictorial formula of Jesus raising Adam and Eve from hell, the Carolingian artist added the figure of Christ. Hence the observer looking at the image through a Christian lens would see a resurrection scene.151 In the Hebrew text no resurrection is implied. Though the psalmist was near death, God did not actually allow him to die. He healed him and preserved him from descending into Sheol. The Midrash on this psalm may provide a hint about the presence of the three angels beneath the hand of God. They are waiting for the results of God’s healing, waiting to see if David will live or die. One rabbi taught that “when the righteous leave this world, three companies of angels join them, one saying He shall enter into peace, another They shall rest in their beds, and still another Each one shall walk in his uprightness (Isa. 57.2); and then these angels go ahead of the righteous.”152 I suggest that each of these three figures represents one of the angelic companions mentioned in the Midrash, and could very well have been present in a Jewish illustrated version.

In verse 6 David tells us that when the Lord is “pleased,” there is “life.” The Lord is “angry but a moment, and when He is pleased there is life. One may lie down weeping at nightfall; but at dawn there are shouts of joy.” This verse is illustrated literally. In the top right under the stars and moon sits the psalmist in a mournful pose, “weeping at nightfall.” On the left he hails the sun with an arm joyously raised up. The raised arm and spread legs of the psalmist present a body language that implies “dancing,” as DeWald and Van de Horst have remarked.153 However, the Latin text says nothing about “dancing,” whereas the Hebrew text does (verse 12). “You turned my lament to dancing [mahol].”154 Since according to the rubrics of late antique and medieval iconography this figure can be interpreted as “dancing,” the motif is reflected more accurately by the Hebrew text than by the Latin.

Psalm 36/3� “Like Grass to Be Cut” Fi gure 1 4 This psalm expresses the idea that the righteous will succeed and the wicked will fail. The evildoers are referenced in the beginning (verse 2): “For like grass they [the evildoers] will be swiftly cut down [ymmalu].”155 The root of this verb is mem, vav, lamed, literally meaning “to circumcise,” but it also means “to cut off like grass.”156 The Targum offers the metaphor that the evildoers will be “cleared,” again a notion that can be related to grass being cleared away.157 The Midrash also corroborates the metaphor of the cut grass. “For they shall soon be cut down like the grass . . . The Holy One, blessed be He, said to David: The wicked are nothing at all. Their hope is grass.”158

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 49

Figure 14 · Psalm 36/37, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 21r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

The metaphor of the wicked who are like grass to be cut down is strikingly illustrated front and center.159 One harvester is sharpening his scythe; another is about to sweep his across the grass. The use of the word in verse 2 meaning “will be cut” accords only with the Hebrew text. The Latin words relating to the grass express the idea of “withering,” “drying up,” and “dying” (arescere, “to dry up” or “to wither”; decidere, “to fall down” or “to die”): Quoniam tamquam foenum velociter arescent, et quemadmodum olera herbarum cito decident (“For they shall shortly wither away as grass, and as the green herbs shall quickly fall”). This idea of grasses “withering” (not “being cut”) is expressed in the commentaries of the church fathers as well.160 Since only the Hebrew text gives us the notion of grass being cut, it is more likely that 50 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

the visual metaphor of the harvesters using their scythes to “cut down” the grass/evildoers came from a model dependent on a Hebrew text rather than on the Latin. The rest of the motifs in this illustration can be explained by the Hebrew or the Latin text. The psalmist sits in the center with his hand upon an open codex containing the words of God’s torah, which he will read, for he is devout and righteous (verses 28, 30, 31). From his lectern hang the scales of justice. The motif echoes the idea in verse 6 that since God loves justice, the righteous man should fear no tribunal, for the Lord will not abandon the innocent to false judgment (verses 28 and 33). The personified Sun with rays emanating from his head is above the Torah and the scales; the motif corresponds to verse 6, which says that the Lord “will reveal your righteousness like a light, and your judgments like high noon” (see Psalms 1, 18/19, and 67/68 for discussion of the personified Sun and the sun god). The angels would have flanked

the hand of God, as elsewhere in these illustrations. On the right a man fills sacks with grain; he “graciously gives” (verse 21) and “graciously lends” (verse 26). Above him another man hands out food and drink. Those who receive it will not experience famine (verse 19). On the extreme right are that man’s “children,” literally “his seed” (zarʾo).161 They are a blessing. The Latin uses the same metaphor—that is, children are “seed” (semen). There is, perhaps, a visual pun here, for the “children/seed” appear directly above the sower of seeds. The “seeding” reflects verses 9, 11, 22, and 29, which emphasize that the blessed will inherit the earth. One man guides a plow pulled by oxen; another, above him, bends to gather the crop and put it into his basket. The wicked are on the left holding shields and spears. They seek to execute the righteous (verse 32). One draws a sword, another’s bow has broken in pieces, and a third pierces his heart with his own sword (verses 14–17). Though a wicked man might seem “well-rooted,” as in

the tree in the top left, that image gives way to another to its right, where a figure tumbles from the tree and soon vanishes (verses 35–36). And if a man who is strong in faith should fall, God’s angel will support him, so he will not be “cast off,” a motif illustrated by the person falling and being caught by an angel near the table in the upper right (verse 24).

Psalm 40/41 David Lying Sick and Asking for God’s Healing Fi gure s 1 5 and 1 5a This is one of the illustrations that I believe does not have a Christological interpolation, but rather had a motif that the ninth-century artists reinterpreted from a Christian point of view.162 Figure 15 · Psalm 40/41, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 24r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 51

Figure 15a · Psalm 40/41, detail.

I will argue that, as in the other examples I have cited, here again the model would have reflected the Hebrew text of the psalm, in this case a prayer uttered by David when he was beseeching the Lord’s healing.163 In the model, one image of David would have been of him lying sick in bed, the bed portrayed as being inside a structure signifying his palace (figs. 15 and 15a). (Such a structure with a rounded arch stands for the dwelling of a rich man in the illustration of Psalm 38/39, fol. 22v.) The doors are open so that we can see the head and chest of David’s form within. His enemies on the far left whisper against him (verses 6–8). They claim that he will not arise from his illness: “When will he die and his name perish?” (verse 6); “Now that he lies ill, may he rise no more” (verse 9). David, however, petitions the Lord in verse 11 to refute their claims and to raise him up from his sickbed: “O Lord, show me favor and raise me up.” The church fathers interpreted much of this psalm as referring to Christ. The verse where David asks the Lord, “Raise me up

52 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

[from illness],” was understood as referring to Christ’s resurrection. The Gallican Latin text in the Utrecht Psalter (40:9) reads, “Numquid qui dormit non adjiciet ut resurgat? Shall he that lies [sick] ever rise again?”164 Given the strong Christological connotation of the words “Raise me up” in verses 9 and 11, the Carolingian artist, when looking at the model, must have understood David’s bed and the structure that housed it as Christ’s tomb. When the Utrecht artist drew the motif, he refashioned the structure by adding a domed tower with a cross, a semblance of the way the Anastasis Rotunda, Jesus’s tomb, was represented in Carolingian art. However, in traditional Carolingian iconography, when the door of Christ’s tomb is represented as open, it is shown as devoid of his body, for Jesus had risen from it. The presence here of the head and chest of a figure lying inside suggests that a Jewish model stood behind this illustration, a model showing the sick David within a structure standing for his palace. The hand of God directed toward him from above would also have been present in the model, as it is here. In the Christian context the three figures to the right of the “tomb” are something of a puzzle. DeWald suggests that the Carolingian artist meant them to be those mentioned in Matthew 28:1–9: Mary Magdalene, the “other” Mary, and Jesus.165 In the Gospels, when the women arrive at the tomb of Jesus they learn from an angel that Jesus is not there, “for he is risen. . . . Come, and see the place where the Lord was laid”—that is, the empty tomb. As the women ran to tell the disciples what had happened, “Jesus met them, saying: All hail” (Matt. 28:9). The Utrecht artist, however, has neglected to take into account that the Gospel narrative does not altogether fit with the illustration. Not only is what is reinterpreted as the sepulcher depicted with a body still inside, but also, if the figure

greeting the women is meant to represent Jesus hailing them, he is shown without a nimbus, a very unusual occurrence in this manuscript.166 I believe this Christological scene was adapted from a Jewish model where, on the left, the sick David lay upon his bed in the palace. Verse 4a reads, “May God support him on his sickbed.” This interpretation would accord with the Jewish understanding of the psalm, where the standing figure with no halo could have represented David all healed. God has answered his plea: “You have supported me and let me stand erect [vattatziveni ]” (verse 13).167 What are now the kneeling women would have been, in the model, those “praiseworthy” ones who come to care for the sick, the ones whom the Lord will preserve and keep alive (verses 2–3).168 Another such person is represented in the upper right, giving food to the sick and to the crippled man under the tree. I believe that the “healed” David and the “praiseworthy” ones were reinterpreted by the Carolingian artist in an attempt to refashion them as part of a Christological narrative, but the artist did not make the requisite changes. He did not eliminate the body lying in the structure, nor did he place a nimbus on the figure to be understood as Jesus, changes that would have transformed the scene to reflect the Gospel story. The rest of the motifs accord unproblematically with either the Latin or the Hebrew text. The psalmist appears two additional times in the illustration. On the right he is seated pointing to the “praiseworthy” man giving food to the sick and crippled. A second time, in the top center, he is pointing to a toppled bed below. That bed is the literal visual expression of verse 4b: God will strengthen the sick man on his bed of misery, and “upset” (from the word hafakh, meaning “overturn”) his “bed of suffering.”169 On the extreme left a sarcophagus is set before

those who are asking when the psalmist will die (verse 6).

Psalm 41/42 A Murder Weapon in the Bones; Dancers; A Deer Pursued by Dogs; The “Booth/Covering” Fi gure 1 6 The psalmist, arms raised, stands to the left of the central table, and he is looking up toward the hand of God. An enemy attacks him from behind, thrusting a weapon into his lower back, a motif that accords with the Hebrew in verse 11: “Like a sword [lit. like a murder weapon, bʾretsaḥ beʾatsmotai] in my bones are the taunts of my tormentors.” The root of retsaḥ means simply “murder.” However, it is sometimes translated as “sword” or understood as a deadly dagger.170 “Retsaḥ” is interpreted to mean “murder weapon” in medieval Jewish commentaries such as that of the twelfth-century scholar Abraham Ibn Ezra (1089–1164), who translates the verse as “When they are saying to me ‘where is your god?’ it was to me as like a retsaḥ [like a ‘murder weapon’] in my bones.”171 Rabbi David Kimchi (1160–1235) gives a similar reading: “bʾretsaḥ beʾatsmotai: thus it is in my eyes when they say to me ‘where is your god’ as if they are piercing me with a sword and murdering me.”172 Hence, in the Hebrew word retsaḥ is the explicit sense of the enemy’s words being “like a murder weapon,” a metaphor that accords with the image of the psalmist being attacked with the long rod or spear. The Latin text, on the other hand, makes no mention of a weapon: Dum confringuntur ossa mea exprobraverunt mihi qui tribulant me inimici mei, dum dicunt mihi per singulos dies: Ubi est Deus tuus? “Whilst my bones are broken, my enemies who trouble me have reproached me; Whilst they say to me day by day: Where is thy

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 53

Figure 16 · Psalm 41/42, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 24v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

God?” Given the Latin reading, one would expect to see the psalmist’s bones broken, but the Latin does not conjure up a “murder weapon.”173 The Hebrew phrase and its traditional interpretation more precisely fit with the image: that the taunts of the tormentors are like a murder weapon, a weapon thrust into the bones of the psalmist. Thus the illustration is more reflective of the Hebrew text, long understood as connoting a weapon in the bones. This is another piece of evidence that the illustrations are based on drawings created in a Jewish milieu. In verse 5a the psalmist “pour[s] out” his soul, recalling what he used to do: walk with the “crowd,” the “celebrating multitude” (verse 5c), to the House of God, with “joyous song” (verse 5b). The “celebrating multitude” is in the bottom left. Some are feasting around a table; others

54 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

have horns, pipes, and stringed instruments and play a “joyous song.” What are not specifically referenced in either the Hebrew or the Latin are the two figures with arms raised and feet apart, figures who are obviously dancing. The Hebrew text, however, does give us a clue that these dancing figures were in the model. The Hebrew words for “a celebrating multitude” are hamon ḥogeg. The word ḥogeg refers to “dancing in circles and celebrating,” as in “eating and drinking and dancing [ḥogegim].”174 The Latin text parallel to “celebrating multitude” is sonus epulantis, the “sound of feasting.” Nowhere in the roots of the Latin words is dancing implied. So one asks, if only the Latin text were being illustrated, would the dancers have been included in the illustration? Dancing figures are very rare in the Utrecht Psalter. I contend that their presence here means that the model reflected the Hebrew text, which implies “dancing.” Racing toward the psalmist is a deer followed by a pair of dogs. The deer is explicitly

mentioned in verse 2: “As the deer panteth for springs of water, so panteth my soul for You, O God.” A diagonal stream of water empties into a “lake” in the center and then becomes a stream again. The two dogs are not mentioned in the text of the Hebrew or Latin, nor by the church fathers. However, once again we turn to the late twelfth-/early thirteenth-century rabbi David Kimchi for an explanation. He cites commentators on this psalm who say that when deer—who are akin to the soul—are pursued by dogs, they run until they find a deep stream. They jump into the midst of the stream and are concealed and are thereby saved from the pursuing dogs.175 The motif as illustrated in the Utrecht Psalter is a literal depiction of this Jewish commentary.176 A tent appears in the top center of the image. DeWald believes that it reflects the word tabernaculum in verse 5: “quoniam transibo in locum tabernaculi admirabilis, usque ad donum Dei. . . . For I shall go over into the place of the wonderful tabernacle, even to the house of God.”177 The Latin word tabernaculum is more or less parallel with the Hebrew phrase for House of God in the same verse, Beit Elohim. So yes, the tent could reflect the mention of a tabernacle or a house of God. But this would be the only place in the Utrecht Psalter where tabernaculum/Beit Elohim is illustrated as a tent, not as a basilica. Whenever else “tabernacle” is mentioned in the text of the Utrecht Psalter, if there is an accompanying illustration, the tabernacle is depicted as a basilica, not a tent.178 The two places where Dufrenne maintains that tabernaculum is illustrated by a text are (1) the psalm we are discussing, and (2) folio 34v (Psalm 60/61:5). However, in 60/61:5, though the Latin text reads tabernaculo, the Hebrew has “in Your tent” (veʾoholkha), so it is quite logical that a tent appears there, since there must have been one in the model.

I propose that the tent in this image reflects one of the meanings of the Hebrew word sakh, which is usually translated in verse 5 as “with the throng” (bassakh), as in walking “with the throng” up to the House of God.179 One of the three meanings of sakh cited in the midrashic commentary on 42:5 is “covering” or “booth,” a term related to the word sukkah, “booth.” “When we went up to the festivals to see Thy face, we traveled in litters that had shades, resembling a sukkah.”180 Hence the tent might reflect the midrashic commentary on this psalm—the idea that people went up to the festivals in “litters that had shades, resembling a sukkah,” a covering that could be represented as a tent. Apart from the motifs that have been mentioned, the rest of the imagery is more or less a direct visual translation of the Hebrew and the Latin texts. In the center of the image is a table with food on it, including bread. The psalmist tells us in verse 4 that tears were his “bread.” “For me my tears were bread [leḥem].” “Day” and “night” are referenced in verses 4 and 9; the personifications of “day” and “night” are represented in the upper left and right corners. God’s hand is extended toward the female holding the palm; she is a personification of “His loving kindness” in verse 9. The “foes” holding their weapons flank the image (verse 10).

Psalm 4�/48 King David Supporting a Sphere Representing the Whole Earth Fi gure 1 7 The psalmist stands on the hill to the left. He looks across toward “the city of our God . . . Mount Zion . . . the city of the great king” (verses 2–3). Within the walls of the city the “daughters of Judah rejoice” (verse 12) in accord

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 55

Figure 17 · Psalm 47/48, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 27v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

with both the Hebrew and the Latin texts. The Hebrew word benoth, literally meaning “daughters,” can also be translated as “towns,” as in satellite towns and villages.181 It is the literal meaning that was chosen by the creators of this motif: the daughters of Judah dancing joyfully within the “towers” and “ramparts” of Zion (verses 12–14). At the portal of the Temple stand two angels, who, in this Christological rendering, flank Christ. I contend, however, that in the model this figure was King David. As is the case with this drawing of Christ, David would have been holding a sphere, an object I believe is referenced in verse 3a: “Fairest of sites, joy of all the earth, Mount Zion.” The sphere in his hand would have represented the words “all the earth” (kol haʾarets). Such a sphere is found in two other

56 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

illustrations: in Psalm 18/19 it is placed in the hand of a crowned and enthroned king in the lower right, where it represents “all the earth.”182 In Psalm 49/50 the sphere is held by a personification of Mother Earth corresponding to the phrase in verse 12: “the world and its fullness.”183 I suggest that the sphere in this drawing again represents “the earth,” referring to the city as the “joy of all the earth” (verse 3). Though the Utrecht artist placed Christ in the portal according to the Christian understanding of the Latin text of Psalm 47/48, I propose that in the model the “great king” at the portal would have been David, as in the Jewish interpretation of the psalm (verse 4). The rest of the illustration can be understood as following the Latin or the Hebrew text. Four kings in the center are approaching with gifts (verse 5). The citadels of Zion have astounded and terrified them: “They were seized there with a trembling, like a woman in the throes of labor” (verses 6–7). The literal representation of

a woman giving birth is on the left, where two attendants support a female with exposed breasts and belly. Another attendant, carrying a cloth for swaddling the baby, walks toward the laboring woman. In the lower left, two personifications of the “east wind” are blowing toward the billowing sails of the ships of Tarshish. Those who have witnessed the scene are on the extreme right (verse 9). Figures in the central tower look toward the psalmist, presumably listening to his message so that they may “recount it to a future age” (verse 14).

Psalm 49/50 A Reinterpretation of the Objects in the Hands of Personified Earth; Whips in the Hands of the Angels Fi g u r e 1 8 Like the personified Sun, Moon, River, and Wind, the representation of Earth in human form was common in Roman imagery. The art

of late antique Galilee has several examples of such personifications.184 They were part of the public sphere in those pagan/Christian/Jewish cities. The personified Sun, Helios, appeared on synagogue floors (pls. 2 and 2b), and the personified River is found on a pavement in the House of Leontis, at Beth Shean (pl. 5).185 A mosaic in the Nile Festival Building in Sepphoris displays an image of the personified Earth similar to the one that appears front and center in this illustration (pl. 9). Though the personified Earth in the Utrecht Psalter is not depicted with an exposed upper body, she wears a shawl around her shoulders and has a crown upon her head, just like the Nile Festival figure. Both personifications hold the cornucopia.186 The Nile Festival figure of Earth was part of that Hellenistic cultural environment experienced by Jews in late antique Galilee. Anyone walking in a typical city of Figure 18 · Psalm 49/50, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 28v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 57

Roman Palestine would encounter such figures in sculpture or mosaics.187 For the most part rabbis judged these classical figures to be anodyne. They were not “worshipped,” so they did not conflict with the basic elements of Jewish life and thus found their way into Jewish art.188 The personification of the Earth in this image corresponds to verse 1: “God spoke summoning the earth.” As in Latin (terra), the word for “earth” in Hebrew is feminine (erets). She is looking up and would have been gazing at the hand of God. A sphere rests in her lap, and it is worth noting that it is shaded to suggest three-dimensionality. Like the sphere in the hand of the king in the lower right of Psalm 18/19 (fig. 9) and the one in the hand of the figure in the portal in Psalm 47/48 (fig. 17), the sphere in this illustration represents the world, a concept evoked again in verse 12b: “For Mine is the world and its fullness.” The “fullness” is symbolized by the stalks of grain rising from the cornucopias on Earth’s knees. Two as yet undeciphered attributes extend from Earth’s hands: long, slightly curved rods. DeWald questions whether or not they could be interpreted as serpents.189 I propose that they are a reflection of the meaning of verse 4, where Earth is evoked in a context suggesting that the objects in her hands are rods of punishment: “He [God] will summon . . . the earth that He may avenge [judge] His people.” The Hebrew word ladin means “to judge” or “to call someone to account,” and the word din can also mean “to punish.”190 The sense of “to punish” is also present in the verse in the Targum (50:3): “The righteous will say in the day of the great judgment, ‘Let our God come, and not keep silence, to perform the punishment of his people!’”191 Rashi also interprets verse 4 as having the sense of “to punish,” though a different group is being punished: “let him [the Lord] summon . . .

58 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

the earth to punish the kings of the earth.”192 Augustine, uniquely among the church fathers, likewise mentions the word “punishment” when commenting on verse 4.193 The sense of Augustine’s commentary is that the Lord shall sever his people from evil men, who will be condemned to punishment. I propose that the rods in the hands of Earth are the instruments to be used for the “punishment.” Such a reading is suggested by the alternate meaning of the Hebrew word din, by the explicit reference to “punishment” in the Targum, and by the understanding of the word as “punishment” in Rashi’s commentary. Implicit in verse 4 is a further notion: God will summon not only the Earth but also “the Heavens” to mete out punishment. Rashi’s commentary on verse 4a can be translated, “let him [the Lord] summon the heavens to punish the heavenly princes of the Gentiles.”194 That interpretation of the heavens punishing the princes explains the objects in the hands of the angels at the top of the image. Those objects are whips, as seen in many other Utrecht illustrations. They reflect a literal understanding of the idea that the heavens will “punish.”195 Thus I propose that in the late antique drawing for this psalm the personified Earth held avenging rods, and the angels held punishing whips, motifs consonant with the Hebrew text, the Targum, and Rashi’s commentary.196 The rest of the motifs reflect both the Latin and the Hebrew texts. In the upper left and right are two personified Suns, one moving into the scene, the other moving out. They correspond to 1b: God spoke and summoned the world “from the rising of the sun to its setting.” The flames of the “devouring fire,” depicted with long, streaming strokes, are to the left and right of the angels, on either side of the central hill (verse 3). They are stoked by “turbulent” winds whose

heads are vaguely rendered emerging from the clouds in the top right center just above the flames (verses 3–4). The psalmist stands to the left of the central hill near one of the fires. He gazes at the “devout ones” who are being ushered toward God (verse 5). For them, the rain falling from the clouds will extinguish the consuming fires. An altar of sacrifice appears on a hillock, center left; it evokes the “covenant through sacrifice” that the Israelites made with God (verse 5). Some Israelites are following behind the sacrificial animals, bulls and goats, mounting toward the altar (verses 8–10, 13). God does not want these sacrifices. “Every beast of the forest” is his (verse 10); those beasts are pictured among the tree trunks in the upper right (verses 8–10, 13). God knows “every bird of the mountains”; they are perched among the branches of the tree on the right (verse 11). The wicked are below them. They tilt their heads toward one another to speak words of deceit (verse 19). They hate the “discipline” written on the scroll toward

which the angel points, and they throw behind them the rolls containing God’s words (verse 17). Only those who offer “a thanks offering,” the devout ones with the angel in the upper left, will be shown the salvation of God (verse 23).

Psalm 54/55 Ahithophel Fi gure 1 9 Much of the imagery for Psalm 54/55 can be explained by the Latin or the Hebrew text. The psalmist, David, stands to the left of the central table. He looks up to the hand of God and asks him to hear his prayer (verse 2). David’s foes attack the city below, where violence, treachery, and fraud reign; the scales and sacks of coins Figure 19 · Psalm 54/55, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 31r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 59

within the walls point to usury (verses 4, 10, 12, 13). The psalmist longs for the “wings of a dove” so he can “fly away and find rest” (verse 7). The winged dove is in the upper right. A crescent moon and a personified Sun flank God’s hand (verse 11). One motif remains inexplicable. In the top center, to the right of the table, a man pointing toward David holds a scroll and three spears. DeWald identifies this figure as an enemy, one of the wicked men.197 In the Utrecht Psalter, however, enemies do not hold scrolls; that attribute designates a scholar, a teacher, or an elder. The idea that this man is not an enemy is introduced in verses 13–15, where David addresses someone as “my equal, my companion, my friend; sweet was our fellowship.” According to the Midrash, “David had no greater friend than Ahithophel, whom David made chief of his prosecutors, and who was his counselor in all affairs, as is said Ahithophel was the king’s counselor (1 Chron. 27:33).”198 The Midrash tells us what David said about Ahithophel: “‘Indeed, he was a great man, for I addressed him in this way: But it was thou, a man according to my order, my guide, and my familiar friend (Ps. 55:14.)’ What is meant by the words according to my order? . . . David meant ‘Ahithophel was my orderer, that is to say, it was he who arranged laws in their proper order’; by the words my guide David meant: ‘Ahithophel was my master who instructed me in Torah’ for the next verse says, We took sweet counsel together (55:15).”199 Hence, according to the Midrash on this psalm, Ahithophel taught David torah. The text of the Torah was and is in scroll form. I suggest that the scroll in the hand of the spear-bearing man identifies him as Ahithophel. However, as we learn from 1 Chronicles and 2 Samuel, Ahithophel repaid David by betraying him. According to the Midrash, that betrayal

60 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

also is reflected in the words of this psalm: “Such as have no changes (Ps. 55:20). These words allude to Ahithophel and his band in whose hearts the inclination-to-evil underwent no change. . . . And [they] fear not God . . . He hath put forth his hands against his peaceful ones (Ps. 55:21): Ahithophel and his band put forth their hands against men that were at peace with them. And so the verse goes on to say of Ahithophel He hath broken his covenant.”200 The Midrash then cites 2 Samuel (17:1, 17:2, and 17:4) where Ahithophel pursues David and tries to kill him.201 Thus, according to the Midrash, verses 21–22 in this psalm allude to Ahithophel and his treacherous actions: “He harmed his ally, he broke his pact; his talk was smoother than butter, yet his mind was on war; his words were more soothing than oil, yet they were drawn swords.” The Midrash tells us that David asked God for enemies that he could pursue, overtake, and consume. But “Ahithophel is not one of such enemies . . . ; he is my own kind . . . ’ And David said further: ‘For it was not an enemy that taunted me, then I could have borne it’ (Ps. 55.13). Indeed, he [Ahithophel] was a great man.”202 I contend that David’s instructor/enemy holding the scroll of a teacher as well as the spears of an enemy is Ahithophel, the friend who became the treacherous foe. In the lower part of the image Ahithophel and his band are falling into the mouth of the pit and into Sheol (verse 24).

Psalm 56/5� The Dream of the Psalmist Fi gure 20 This psalm has an unusually long superscription. The last part of it, implying that the verses were written when the psalmist “fled from Saul

into a cave,” reflects the way the psalms were applied to the biography of David. In the book of Samuel, which is seen as providing the basis for the events described, Saul is David’s only antagonist.203 In this psalm various enemies are mentioned, and David cries out for divine help in overcoming them (verses 6 and 12). The psalmist, standing in the center, tells us that he “seek[s] refuge in the shadow of [God’s] wings, until danger passes” (verse 2). That winged protector, a metaphor for God, stands behind David and supports him in the center of the composition. The idea of God as a large guardian bird is standard in the Psalms.204 Here the face of the winged figure is darkened and indistinct; perhaps the darkening of the features reflects the model, for in Jewish art the features of God’s face would not be seen.205 Jean Claude Schmitt has pointed out that in the Stuttgart Psalter, portions of this psalm can be viewed in terms of dream imagery.206 I would argue that the Utrecht illustration here alludes

Figure 20 · Psalm 56/57, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 32r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

to dream imagery as well. In verse 5 David tells us, “I lie down,” eshkevah, and indeed a bed is present in the center of the image, though no bed is specifically mentioned in the text. The psalmist gives us an account of his dream: “My soul is among lions [David’s enemies] . . . whose teeth are spears and arrows, whose tongue is a sharp sword” (verse 5). In the dream the lions, the metaphorical enemies, have teeth that are, figuratively, spears and arrows, and a tongue that is a sword. This extraordinary double metaphor is found only in the Hebrew.207 The metaphorical verse is illustrated literally: a lion and lioness, each of which appears to have an open mouth, flank David, and behind them are the weaponbearing enemies. The dream continues: “They dug a pit for me, but they fell into it” (a verse depicted at the bottom of the image, verse 7).

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 61

Then the dream ceases: the psalmist calls out, “Awake, O my soul! Awake, O harp and lyre!” The instruments are in the crook of David’s left arm and in his hand (verse 9). The dream is over, and now the psalmist will sing a hymn to the Lord (verses 9–10). In the model the hand of God would have been reaching down from heaven, surrounded as here by the representatives of the “peoples” and the “nations” (verses 4, 6, 10).

Psalm 5�/58 A Snail, Not a Viper; The Melting Candle Fi g u r e 21 The opening words of this psalm are a petition to the elem. Their identity is unclear, but the word has been translated to mean “mighty ones.”208 I suggest that in this psalm the “mighty ones” were interpreted as the judges who are evoked in the next sentences in verse 2: “You should be speaking justice! You should be judging people with fairness.”209 The judges are the four figures sitting on cushioned benches at the threshold of the building on the left. They are dressed in long tunics and cloaks; one holds up his hand in the speaking gesture. They are meant to represent those who should be judging people with equity. Five petitioners dressed in shorter, more plebian garb gesticulate and are complaining that justice is not being done (verse 3): “Even in your heart you commit injustice in the land.”210 In the center of the composition is the psalmist with his back to us and his head turned up toward the menacing angels. With verses 4 and 5 he begins a description of the wicked. They have venom “like the venom of a snake.” That venomous snake is pictured on the left just below the steps of the building. Its mouth

62 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

is open, and, as with many species of snakes, its lower jaw is shorter and less ample than its upper jaw. From this large mouth drips a big globule of venom, thereby illustrating, literally, the simile in the text. Verse 5b continues the metaphorical description of the wicked. In the Latin, it reads that the wicked are sicut aspidis surdae et obturantis aures suas, “like the deaf asp that stoppeth her ears.” DeWald has identified the creature below the snake as a viper with its head placed against the ground so that its ear is “stopped.”211 Dora Panofsky, citing Augustine (En. Ps. 58:4–5), also describes this as a deaf asp pressing one ear to the ground and plugging the other with the tip of its tail.212 Van der Horst accepts Panofsky’s identification as an asp with one ear to the ground and surmises that the motif illustrates verse 5b. However, the spiral shape of the creature suggests another possibility. The Hebrew of verse 9 reads, the wicked are “like a snail that melts as it slithers along.”213 In 1876, Walter de Gray Birch characterized the creature as a snail.214 And indeed in the Utrecht illustration the creature does have a coiled shell with an opening at the end through which the body and antennae protrude. Birch noted that in the Vulgate and Gallican versions, the Hebrew word in verse 9 for “snail,” shablul, was mistranslated into the word caera or “wax” (Sicut cera quae fluit auferentur, “Like wax that melteth”). Birch recognized that the verse should be translated “Like the snail [shablul] that melts and slithers [literally ‘goes’] away.”215 Birch correctly saw that the mistranslation came about when the Hebrew was put into the Old Greek of the Septuagint (upon which the Gallican text is based). The substitution occurred, he suggested, because it is more common to think of the wax of a candle melting away than to picture a snail doing so. Birch tells us that he realized the motif must be a snail when he consulted a “Chaldeen paraphrase” of

the Hebrew psalms. He surmised, based on that paraphrase, that the original illustrator drew a snail. That word was apparently used in the paraphrase, as was the word “melts,” a verb that reflects the idea that the snail tends to “consume away and die by reason of its constantly emitting slime as it crawls along.”216 And, in fact, as it moves, a snail does leave a trail of mucus matter behind it. Had Birch consulted the Midrash Tehillim he would have seen that his “Chaldeen paraphrase” was correct. In the Midrash, 58:9 is parsed as follows: “Like the snail which oozes on its way so that its track is known, so the evil tongue oozing on its way makes itself known by its slime.”217 In the illustration one can see the dark curve of slime that the snail is leaving behind. A viper does not leave such a trail. Birch thought that the representation of a snail here suggests “the possibility that the whole series of pictures, in its first state, was produced to

Figure 21 · Psalm 57/58, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 32v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

accompany the Hebrew text that, in this psalm, for example, contains the expression relating to the snail.”218 The fact that the Hebrew text is accurately reflected by the image of the snail led Birch to the conclusion that “these drawings which we have before us in the Utrecht (Gallican and Septuagintal) Psalter have been copied into it from an illustrated exemplar of a Hebraic version.”219 As I have been demonstrating, Birch’s hunch was correct. And in the case of this illustration, as elsewhere in the Psalter, the Utrecht artist was copying the snail and its slime from a model based on an illustrated Hebrew text. The motif provides another piece of evidence showing that the model was dependent on a Jewish source. As far as I know, Birch, writing nearly 150 years ago, is the only

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 63

scholar until now who envisaged the possibility that the images in the Utrecht Psalter may have been based on an illustrated Hebrew manuscript. Robert Howard Frankel, in a master’s thesis, presented the hypothesis that Hebrew literature might be reflected in the Utrecht Psalter, but he did not suggest that a late antique illustrated Hebrew manuscript stood behind the Utrecht drawings.220 If it is a snail rather than a candle that reflects the Hebrew verse 9, why is a candle present in an image dependent on a Jewish illustrated version? The answer is that another verse of the Hebrew text does suggest a melting candle: “Let them melt [yimmaʾasu]” (verse 8).221 There are two ways to understand the root of the Hebrew word here translated as “melt.” (The root of yimmaʾasu is mem-alef-samekh.) One meaning is “Let them be despicable.” The other meaning is “flow,” “run,” or “melt.”222 The candle in the illustration corresponds with the second meaning, the curse “Let [the wicked] melt away.”223 Thus, both the snail “melting” away and the melting candle are appropriate literal visual images of the Hebrew text of the psalm. The other motifs in the illustration represent some of the curses. The wicked are likened to young lions: “Smash their teeth in their mouth” (verse 7) and “Let them vanish like water.” A spear is being thrust into the mouth of a rampant lion in the center. Lying at the bottom is a personified River, a bearded river god leaning on a jug from which water flows (verse 8). God’s angels are aiming to cut down the enemies who are toward the right (verse 8). Above the wicked are black clouds: “May they never see the sun” (verse 9). Some figures are being whirled away (verse 10); others are bleeding from their severed heads; and, on the far right, the righteous are bathing their hands in the blood (verse 11).224 The gruesome imagery is meant to represent

64 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

divine justice, thereby encouraging others to be righteous.

Psalm 62/63 The Visions Fi gure 22 The author of this psalm is describing a spiritual mystical experience.225 Addressing God, he calls out, “I seek You. My soul thirsts for You, my flesh longs for You” (verse 2). The psalmist meditates upon the Lord “in the watches of the night,” when he is upon his bed, which is drawn on the left (verse 7). The language of the psalm shows an intense longing to come close to the Lord. “My soul clings [daveqah] to You” (verse 9). This is a common emotion for one who wants mystically to “see” God.226 As I will show, implicit in the text and the illustration are two closely linked kinds of visionary experiences: the dream vision of sleep, and the mystical “seeing” when awake. The two different forms of visionary experience are implicit in the word ḥazitikha in verse 3. Since there really is no concept of tense in poetic Hebrew, the word ḥazitikha can be translated as a present or past action. It can mean “I behold” or “I beheld.”227 Consequently, verse 3 can be interpreted to mean that the psalmist “beholds” or “beheld” God in two different ways, both in his dream and when he awakened. It can even mean that he wishes to behold him. The ambivalence of the tense of the verb opened up interpretive possibilities for the initial creator of the visual model. The artist could allude first to the vision the psalmist had while he was asleep on his bed, a vision of God at the Temple, a structure shown on the left. The ambivalent tenses—“I beheld / I behold” God— also allowed the artist to illustrate the vision

the psalmist “sees” when he awakens, when he beholds God in his “glory.” The verb ḥazitikha allows for this dual meaning: On the one hand, the psalmist’s “dream” vision is suggested by the bed, where he meditated on God through the “watches of the night” (verse 7). In that context he “beholds/beheld” God in the sanctuary. Then, when he is awake, he seeks another kind of vision. For the nature of that vision we look first at the Hebrew text, and then at synagogue art from the late antique period. The root of the word for “behold,” ḥazah, not only means “see” or “perceive with the eyes”; it also connotes a person who “sees as a seer in the ecstatic state [ḥozeh].”228 This meaning presents the possibility that the psalmist not only “saw” in his dream, but also, upon awakening, “sees” in an ecstatic state—that he has a visionary experience. And what does the artist depict as the vision? The psalmist looks up toward the rays of light emanating from the personified Sun. The sun is not present merely as a personification of “day,” as it is in so many of the other psalms. No mention of “day” occurs in the text. The

Figure 22 · Psalm 62/63, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 35r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

sun’s presence and its rays directed toward the psalmist convey a different meaning, one that will become evident through an examination of the text and of the imagery in late antique synagogue pavements of the Galilee. What the psalmist tells us he sees is God’s “glory” (kavod) (verse 3). When the word kavod references God’s glory in the Bible it is usually connected with shining, light or fire, and it comes “from the way of the east.” We read, for instance, in Ezekiel 43:2: “The glory of the God of Israel came from the way of the east; . . . and the earth did shine with His glory.” God’s glory was revealed to man on special occasions, as at the giving of the law on Mount Sinai, where the Lord spoke from the midst of fire, “and the Lord did show us his glory” (Deut. 5:22–24). In Exodus 24:16–17 we read that at Mount Sinai “the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like devouring fire on the top of the mount in the eyes of the children

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 65

of Israel.” So the glory of the Lord “shines” and takes the form of fire. The psalmist is searching, thirsting, and yearning to see and experience this glory. I propose that the artist creating the model sought to find an analogue for the “shining” “fiery” glory of God, and that analogue was the sun. On the one hand, we have the motif of the empty bed and the implication of “dawn” to suggest that the illustration depicts the recollection of a dream, a dream wherein the psalmist “beheld” an image of the deity in the Temple.229 The image also shows that upon awakening, the psalmist “saw” the glory that stood for God in the form of the sun. The spikes of light coming from the personified Sun’s head and the longer rays moving down toward the psalmist are analogues for the “shining” that is reflective of that glory. Just such an image of the sun is common in Jewish art.230 The figure of the sun god, often called by his Greek name, Helios, is a motif appropriated from Roman imagery and used by Jews on synagogue pavements such as at Beth Alpha and Hammat Tiberias (pls. 2 and 2b). The sun god in those contexts has been interpreted in a number of different ways.231 Levine suggests that in certain “Jewish circles of Byzantine Palestine [they] did not regard Helios as merely a decorative element or even as representing the power of God as creator of the universe. Rather he functioned as a kind of super-angel capable of affecting one’s life,” as set down in the Sefer Harazim, the Book of Secrets, composed by a Palestinian Jew in the late third or early fourth century.232 Several scholars have seen these synagogue sun gods as symbolic representations of the all-powerful Divine.233 Since in Judaism even a mystical experience of the Divine cannot be envisioned in anthropomorphic form, there had to be an intermediary. I propose

66 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

that, in the illustration to this psalm, as in the synagogue pavements, that intermediary was the sun god—an evocation of the deity that the psalmist yearned so intently to be close to. The sun god in this image served as a reminder of God and his glory. To sum up, what is illustrated here is a suggestion of two visionary experiences. All through the “watches of the night” the psalmist meditated on God as he lay upon his bed. He tells us he “beholds”/“beheld” the Lord “in the Sanctuary” depicted on the left side of the image. When awake, the psalmist lifts one hand toward the heavens, thereby signaling that he mystically “sees” God’s “glory” in the form of the commonly used symbol for the Lord among Jews in this period—the sun god, whose rays stream down upon him. It is most unlikely that a late antique Christian artist would have created the model for such an image. The very hint of sun worship was anathema to Christians.234 Nothing indicates that this personified Sun was meant to be Christ; no halo is present, and the figure is dressed in the cloak typical of the sun god.235 The Utrecht artist must have been copying a motif whose context he did not understand. It is only with the knowledge of the synagogue mosaics of the sun god that the meaning of this illustration becomes fully comprehensible. The other motifs in the illustration can be explained by the Hebrew or the Latin text. The psalmist points to his lips, which will give praise (verses 4 and 6). With prayer, his soul will be sated with “fat and abundance,” represented by the cattle and sheep (verse 6). On the right of the pit are those who seek to destroy the psalmist (verses 10–11): “May they enter the depths of the earth.” They are being pushed deeper into Sheol. “May they be prey to jackals.” The jackals devour their victims in the lower

right. In a second representation, center right, the psalmist wears the crown of King David. The king stands beneath God’s angel and is thus sheltered by the “shadow of the Lord’s wings” (verse 8). He rejoices in God, as do those to his left who “swear by Him” (verse 12).

Psalm 64/65 The Zodiac Wheel and Synagogue Mosaics; “Virgo” with Torch Representing “Sukkoth” Fi g u r e 2 3 and P late 10 This psalm is illustrated with a striking depiction of the zodiac wheel. The motif, present in Greco-Roman art, was known in Reims in the 820s. It is found in a Carolingian Aratea manuscript, a book purporting to illustrate the constellations.236 The Leiden Aratea, copied from a classical source, was among the “scientific” manuscripts known in the Carolingian court.

Though the zodiac was acceptable in a Carolingian secular “scientific” context, during the early centuries of the first millennium—the period when the model for the Utrecht Psalter was created—the zodiac wheel would have been shunned by Christians, for it implied an acceptance of the legitimacy of astrological signs. Hence it is difficult to envision that a zodiac wheel was present in an Early Christian model for the Utrecht Psalter. I will argue, however, that it was not a Carolingian addition. As I will show below, the zodiac wheel was a very common feature of late antique synagogue art, and as such it could have been present in a late antique Jewish model. As discussed elsewhere, scholars now accept that, apart from the added Christological scenes, Figure 23 · Psalm 64/65, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 36r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 67

the motifs in the Utrecht Psalter illustrations were not invented by the Carolingian artists.237 The scenes and motifs were found in or inspired by a late antique model (or an intermediary), with a few additions relating mostly to armor and to some musical instruments. Since, however, the Leiden Aratea with its zodiac wheel was present at Reims, one has to consider whether the Utrecht zodiac might have come from a similar model or been inspired by the Leiden Aratea wheel itself. Like the Aratea, the Utrecht zodiac reflects the order of the signs listed by Ptolemy and in large part looks like those of the GrecoRoman tradition. The figures are depicted in a similar manner, and they are arranged counterclockwise. Starting at the top left, the order is Ram, Bull, Twins, Crab, Lion, Virgin, Balance, Scorpion, Archer, Goat, Water Bearer, and Fishes. I would suggest, however, that the zodiac could not have been part of a Christian late antique manuscript, for the church fathers strongly condemned the wheel. Conversely, the zodiac was a major motif in late antique synagogue art. It had been assimilated into Jewish art from the Roman tradition and is found in numerous synagogue mosaic pavements, among them those at Hammat Tiberias and Sepphoris (pls. 2 and 3). Furthermore, there is one attribute held by a Utrecht zodiacal figure that is different from that held by the same figure in the Aratea and in the Greco-Roman tradition. As we will see below, that attribute is specifically related to the Jewish festival cycle and occurs uniquely in the zodiac in late antique synagogue pavements. Most of the motifs in this image reflect the bountiful harvest that the Lord has provided.238 Within the circle are cattle grazing on a hillock, and a heifer and two sheep approaching the altar of sacrifice (verses 6 and 10). The Lord has “paid heed to the earth and watered her,” as attested by the two springs flowing into ample rivers at the bottom (verses 10–12). Five men in 68 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

the center lift their heads in song, expressing gratitude for the harvest (verse 14). The Lord’s bounty has enabled the people to fulfill their vow to bring sacrifices to him at his sanctuary depicted on the left (verse 2 and 5). The psalmist evokes God the deliverer, “in whom all the ends of the earth and the distant seas put their trust” (verse 6). The psalmist tells God that “those who live at the ends of the earth are awed by Your signs” (verse 9a). The inhabitants of the “ends of the earth” are depicted outside the walls. They look up in wonder at the “signs” represented by the figures of the zodiac surrounding the circle of the earth. The Bible often references God’s power over the stars and the celestial signs in the sky. In Isaiah 40:26, for instance, we learn that God created the stars and knows each individual star by name. He controls their appearance in the sky, and not one fails to appear when he calls them. (For a repeat of this idea, see Ps. 147:4.) The inhabitants outside the walls, “at the ends of the earth,” are gazing upward, “frightened” by the zodiacal “signs” (verse 9a). As mentioned above, it is improbable that the zodiac wheel would have existed in a model created in a late antique Christian environment. In addition to shunning the zodiac because of its astrological links, the church fathers did not understand the Latin words signis tuis in this particular psalm as meaning “signs in the sky.”239 Even if they had understood the word signum as meaning zodiacal signs, it is unlikely that they would have chosen to use the zodiac wheel in a religious manuscript. For the early church fathers the signs represented celestial Roman divinities. They were connected to astrology and were to be condemned.240 A belief in astrology meant that the cause of human actions was extraterrestrial rather than within man himself. In fact, Jewish attachment to the zodiac was criticized by the church fathers as reeking of paganism.241 Given

the antipathy of the church fathers toward the zodiac and what they saw as the perniciousness of astrological signs, it is not plausible that such a zodiac wheel would have appeared in an Early Christian illustration of this psalm. The zodiac, however, was not at all avoided in the late antique Jewish milieu. Though originally a pagan Greco-Roman formula (and also part of the Mithraic tradition), the wheel with the zodiacal signs was appropriated into Jewish art and became a popular motif.242 The wheel is depicted in the mosaic pavements of several synagogues in late antique Galilee, where the zodiacal signs within a wheel surround either the sun god Helios or an image of the sun itself.243 The Utrecht example is very close to the tradition represented by the zodiac in the synagogue of Hammat Tiberias (pl. 2). Both compositions are depicted within two framing rings, and the figures have the same or similar forms and poses. In each of the wheels the signs are to be read counterclockwise, though the animals themselves move in a clockwise direction.244 It is also significant that both the Hammat mosaic and the Utrecht manuscript were executed in what has been termed a “Hellenistic” style. In both, the zodiac figures are normally proportioned, well modeled, and given three-dimensionality. Furthermore, it may be a coincidence, but the figure on the hillock stomping on the lion and viper at the top of the illustration seems to extend his right hand toward Aries, the first zodiacal sign of spring. In an analogous gesture the sun god at Hammat also extends his hand to his right, pointing to the first sign of spring.245 In addition to the frequent use of the zodiac motif in the synagogue mosaics, the iconography of one of the signs may provide further support for the hypothesis that the Utrecht imagery finds its origins in a Jewish milieu, and specifically in the tradition found at Hammat

Tiberias. In both Hammat Tiberias and the Psalter, Virgo (Betulah in Hebrew) wears a longsleeved tunic, and her feet are shod (pls. 2a and 10).246 More important, in both representations, Virgo holds a flaming torch upright in her left hand. The torch in Virgo’s hand is not found in the Roman art associated with Virgo, though it is known in Mithraic art.247 In the Jewish context, Virgo holding up a flaming torch symbolizes the autumnal harvest festival of Sukkoth, also called the Festival of Torches, when, as the Mishnah states, men danced before the people with lighted torches in their hands.248 Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler suggest that this psalm was sung during Sukkoth, which marks the end of the harvest and the beginning of the rainy season.249 This form of the torch-bearing Virgo in the Utrecht zodiac, connected as she is to Sukkoth, further links the manuscript to the Jewish iconographic tradition represented at Hammat Tiberias. In summation, given the antipathy of the church fathers to what they saw as pernicious astrological signs, it is not likely that such a zodiac wheel would have appeared in a Christian model for this illustration. It is unlikely that the zodiac wheel was copied as a separate motif from a “scientific” manuscript, since the whole composition depends on the circular shape. The signs were an accepted part of Jewish art, appearing frequently in synagogue mosaics. Hence I propose that the zodiacal circle with its “signs” would more likely have been part of a Jewish illustrated psalter than a Christian one. As such, this iconography provides another argument for a Jewish illustrated book of Psalms serving as a model for the Utrecht Psalter. At the top of the circle is a figure who, in the model, would have been “the devout man,” interpreted as David, trampling upon a lion and a viper, creatures that represent evil. This motif is inspired by Psalm 91:12–13, where a speaker Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 69

assures David (or the devout man) that God’s angels will guard him whereever he goes. “They will carry you in their hands lest you hurt your foot on a stone. You will tread on cubs and vipers; you will trample lions and asps” (91:11–13). This motif, found illustrating Psalm 90/91 in the Utrecht Psalter, was adopted into the drawing for 64/65 as well. In the model for both, David would have been the one who, with God’s help, triumphs over perils, symbolized by the lion and viper. In Christian depictions of those verses, the meaning of the words is reversed. He who treads upon the lion and the viper is no longer the devotee, but rather Christ. Several ivories from the Carolingian period depict that iconography, as does the Early Christian mosaic in the archbishop’s palace in Ravenna.250 In a Jewish model the figure trampling the beasts would have been David. He is the one under God’s protection. The rest of the motifs accord with both the Latin and the Hebrew texts. With the dependable appearance of the sun and the moon at the top God causes joy (verse 9b). In the upper right are two figures coming out of their tombs (verse 3); all flesh must bring its sinful deeds to the final judgment.251 It is worth pointing out that the vine-covered portal contiguous to the Temple might reflect the “golden vine with its branches hanging down from a great height” that Josephus mentions was entwined around the lintels on the porch of the Temple in Jerusalem.252

Psalm 6�/68 The Rider in the Chariot; The “Dew of Resurrection” Fi g u r es 2 4 and 2 4 a The psalmist standing on the central hillock lifts his arm toward a rider positioned frontally in a chariot drawn by four horses galloping above 70 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

the clouds (figs. 24 and 24a). The rider’s face is characterized by an angry scowl. He brandishes a torch in his right hand. DeWald and other commentators assuming a Christian model believe that the figure was meant to represent Christ.253 A problem arises with this identification, however, since the charioteer has no halo. If the chariot rider in the model had been adorned with a halo, the Carolingian artists certainly would have included it. Since none is present, I contend that the figure in the model was not meant to represent Christ. I will argue that there was such a charioteer in the model and that he is related to a form that was present in at least nine Galilean late antique synagogue mosaics. As such, we will see, he could very well have appeared in a Jewish source. If one envisions this image as illustrating a Hebrew book of Psalms, there is little doubt that the figure in the chariot is meant to correspond to verses 2, 5b, 18, and 34a: “Let God arise” (verse 2); “Extol Him Who rides upon ʿaravot” (verse 5b), ʿaravot being translated as “the clouds,” “the skies,” “the seventh heaven,” “sunset”;254 “The chariot of God is twice ten thousand” (verse 18); chant hymns “to Him who rides the ancient highest heavens” (verse 34a). I propose that the motif depicting the image of a chariot rider arising in the heavens could easily have been present in a Jewish model for the Utrecht Psalter. Such a figure is well known in synagogue pavements of the Galilee (pls. 2 and 2b). With the exception of the ChristosHelios mosaic in the tomb of the Julii under St. Peter’s (pl. 4), the motif is almost unknown in Christian art.255 The art-historical material reviewed below, and the Hebrew text and its commentary, all lend support to the idea that a frontally depicted chariot and a chariot rider could have been present in a Jewish model. The motif of the chariot rider here shows a strong resemblance to the sun god, often called

by the Greek name Helios. A form of Helios is present in the center of the mosaic pavements of nine known late antique synagogues in the Galilee. Galilee is the place where, I believe, a late antique illustrated Hebrew book of psalms might have been created, a book that could have served as the model for the Utrecht Psalter images.256 Could the motif of the chariot-riding sun god in the mosaic pavements have inspired the representation of the chariot rider in the model for this illustration? I believe that it could have. So far, the earliest example of a Helios mosaic discovered in a synagogue is at Hammat Tiberias, dated to the second half of the fourth century (pls. 2 and 2b). Beth Alpha, created in the sixth century, is more simplified and abstract, and the image in Naʿaran is only partially preserved. The mosaic at Huqoq displays the chariot, the chariot wheels, and the horses. In the Sepphoris synagogue (early fifth century) the motif of the sun god becomes more complicated, for instead of the human form of Helios,

Figure 24 · Psalm 67/68, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 37v. Photo: Utrecht University Library. Figure 24a · Psalm 67/68.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 71

the sun itself is pictured riding in the chariot (pl. 3). These are the best-preserved examples. The Susiya and Huseifa synagogue pavements likely displayed the Helios motif as well, but those mosaics have been almost completely destroyed.257 In each of these pavements Helios is encompassed by a zodiac circle, and the personifications of the four seasons occupy the corners surrounding the wheel.258 The chariot rider at the top of the Utrecht drawing can be compared to the images of Helios in these synagogue mosaics. As at Hammat Tiberias, the Utrecht driver is positioned more or less frontally, looking toward our left, and raising his right hand (pls. 2 and 2b). In both images the rider wears a cloak. The Hammat chariot and horses are almost completely destroyed, but at Sepphoris and Beth Alpha four horses with prancing legs are depicted just as they are in the Utrecht image (pl. 3). As in the Psalter, the chariot at Sepphoris is pictured from the front and moves toward the viewer, though the horses are shown more or less in profile. And, in both the mosaic and the manuscript, the horses seem to be prancing on their hind legs while their front legs are raised up. The lines at the bottom of the inner circle surrounding the sun at Sepphoris have been interpreted as the sea, so the chariot can be imagined as coming out of the waters and climbing up into heaven. In the Beth Alpha image the charioteer rides in the sky. The Utrecht chariot is also shown in the sky, coming up from behind the clouds. At Sepphoris, Huqoq, and Beth Alpha celestial symbols surround the central sun symbol or the sun-god figure. The source for the frontal chariot-riding Helios, also dubbed Sol Invictus, the unconquered sun, is found in Roman art of the third and fourth centuries CE . The emperor in a chariot appears on Roman mosaics, such as the one from Münster-Sarnsheim.259 A sun god within a 72 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

zodiac wheel is riding a chariot in a ninthcentury Ptolemy manuscript that is based on a second- to third-century original.260 Imperial Roman soli invicto coins were frequently minted in the late third and early fourth centuries and were in circulation in the Galilee in the late fourth century, around the time when the mosaics of Hammat and Sepphoris were created.261 The synagogue mosaics make clear that though Helios is a pagan figure, it found its way into the Jewish art of late antique Roman Palestine. Exactly what the meaning of this image was in the Jewish context is still vigorously debated. Why does the pagan sun god appear in late antique Galilean synagogues? In what measure could he have been meant as a symbolic representation of the all-powerful deity? In order to shed light on these questions it is necessary to reflect upon the representations of an anthropomorphic God in the Jewish tradition. The Bible frequently ascribes human attributes to God.262 Eyes, feet, and the “semblance of a human form” are all metaphorically attributed to him. For instance, Adam and Eve heard the sound of “the Lord walking through the garden in the cool of the day” (Gen. 3:8). In late antiquity the rabbis also used anthropomorphic language when describing the powers of God and his characteristics.263 So an anthropomorphic notion of God is certainly present in the Jewish literary tradition. Scholars have offered many possible interpretations of the meaning of the visual figure of this chariot rider.264 Some have given him a mystical interpretation; others have seen him as an affirmation of God’s power in nature or history. Some view him as just an aesthetically pleasing image with no special religious meaning. Other interpretations include seeing Helios as representing the celestial as opposed to the earthly realm. He is viewed as influenced by Hellenized Judaism as opposed to a “rabbinically dominated” Judaism. It has also been proposed

that he represents a minor deity. Among the suggestions, however, and most controversially, is that the figure is a symbol of God himself. Indeed, in late antique Galilee some Jews might have thought of the divine “form” as being akin to the sun in a chariot.265 In 2 Kings 23:11 we read that the king “took away the horses that the kings of Judah had given to the sun, at the entrance of the house of the Lord . . . ; and he burned the chariots of the sun with fire.” There are grounds to suspect that in postbiblical Judaism, contradictory notions about the “shape” of God existed, for, as mentioned above, anthropomorphic allusions to various parts of God’s “form” are present in rabbinic literature.266 And among the forms imagined by the rabbis for the deity is the sun. To be sure, in late antiquity, and in other periods, Jews made no actual physical objects or statues to worship.267 Indeed, they condemned the worship of such physical objects. Leviticus 19:4 warns: “Turn ye not unto the idols, nor make to yourselves molten gods,” and the sentiment is corroborated by Deuteronomy 27:15: “Cursed be the man that makes a graven or molten image.” A physical object, however, is not a mosaic or a drawing. And we know that by the third century, there was a certain tolerance for paintings, even on the walls of a synagogue such as Dura Europos, where the hand of God appears. The Galilean synagogue mosaics featuring the sun god represent a similar acceptance, an attitude that would also have been reflected in a hypothetical Jewish model for the Utrecht Psalter. That attitude could have given rise to a drawing of the chariot-riding Helios in an illustrated Hebrew version of the Psalms just as well as in a mosaic pavement. Hence, the Hebrew text and the rabbinic commentary lend support to the proposal that the sage advising those preparing the hypothetical late antique model of the Utrecht Psalter could have suggested the motif

of the chariot rider as a visual analogue for the figure described in the verses of this psalm. Verse 5b amplifies the image of God “arising” in verse 2. It portrays him riding into the “place of the sunset.” “Extol Him Who rides in ʿaravot.”268 In rabbinic literature ʿaravot is used as the name of the seventh heaven, and some modern biblical scholars have arrived at a similar understanding of the word.269 So one reading of verse 5b could be, extol him who rides “in the clouds” or “in the seventh heaven.”270 Then verse 5b continues: “YAH [the Lord] is His Name; Exult in His presence.” So in the text of the psalm and in the rabbinic interpretations, the figure riding in the place of the sunset is indeed understood as the Lord. The midrashic commentary elaborates on the anthropomorphic imagery of the Lord riding in the sky. A commentary on verse 5 reads, “Extol Him that rideth upon the skies (verse 68:5). Like a man riding a horse and guiding it over the plain, the Holy One, blessed be He, rides upon the skies. As Moses said, ‘He who rideth upon the sky, is thy help.’”271 The commentary then cites Deuteronomy 33:26, but does not quote the text, which actually reads: “There is none like God, riding through the heavens to help you, through the skies in His Majesty.” Hence the rabbis who wrote the Midrash demonstrate that they viewed the Lord anthropomorphically, like a “man” riding a horse in the sky. The suggestion of God riding upon the clouds is found elsewhere in Jewish Scripture. For instance, in Isaiah 19:1 we find, “Mounted on a swift cloud, the Lord will come to Egypt.” And Psalm 18:10 reads, “He bent the sky and came down, thick cloud beneath His feet.” The God who rides the sky is explicitly envisioned in a chariot in verse 18: “The chariot of God is twice ten thousand, thousands of shinʾan.” The word is unclear, but Jewish commentators have suggested that shinʾan are angels.272 In the Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 73

Targum the image evoked in verse 18 is also understood as angels: “The chariots of God are twice ten thousand of blazing fire; two thousand angels lead them.”273 Though angels flanking an image of Jesus or of God’s hand are common in the Utrecht Psalter, the four angels flanking the chariot rider depicted in this illustration accord well with the tradition expressed in the Midrash and Targum. Hence, I propose that a late antique model coming from a Jewish milieu could very well have depicted a chariot-riding figure flanked by angels. I believe that such a motif was what the ninth-century artist saw in his model. It was not his intent to draw the image of Christ at the top of this illustration. First, there was no halo on the figure he was copying, and second, he did not know any visual tradition of Christ as a charioteer. As mentioned above, only one surviving Early Christian work of art depicts Christ as riding a chariot, the Christos-Helios mosaic in the tomb of the Julii beneath the Basilica of St. Peter in Rome (pl. 4). Though a wheel and the horses are visible, the Julii mosaic is different from the Utrecht drawing. In the Utrecht image the chariot and rider are pictured frontally (as in the synagogue mosaics), whereas in the Julii image we see the figures from the side. The only other example known to me where Christ is pictured as the sun is the mosaic on the triumphal arch at St. Paul’s Outside the Walls in Rome, dating from ca. 390–450.274 There light streams from Christ’s head in the manner of the Roman Sol Invictus. He is not, however, riding a chariot; he is, rather, being adored by the twenty-four elders, as recounted in the book of Revelation. In any event, the model for the chariot rider in the Utrecht illustration is, I suggest, more akin to the sun god as represented on the synagogue pavements than to the one example in the Julii tomb.

74 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

The Stuttgart Psalter, of the same family as the Utrecht, provides further evidence that the figure in the model was not Christ. In the corresponding illustration (fol. 77v) the figure was not at all understood as Christ. The chariot rider is found just below verse 67:18 (in the Vulgate), where the chariot of God is specifically referenced in the Latin. There the image is of a grayhaired man in a chariot holding the reins and viewed from the side. DeWald suggests it may be Elijah, but at any rate, the gray hair means that it is definitely not Christ.275 Late antique Jewish art is not separate from the general art of the Roman environment. In the case of this charioteer, it was the GrecoRoman image of Helios guiding his horses that was adapted to reflect the Hebrew verses of the Psalms, just as the figure was adapted to the programs of the synagogue pavements. Given the number of times this iconography has come to light in the synagogue mosaics, it is safe to say it was common in late antique Palestine. I propose that the figure in the manuscript model was no longer the god of the pagan Greco-Roman world. It was a reinterpretation, now akin to that chariot-riding figure connected to the sky and its celestial bodies found on the synagogue floors. To summarize, the synagogue mosaics of late antique Galilee present at least nine representations of a chariot-riding sun god similar to the one illustrating this psalm. Only one example of Christ in a chariot as the sun god exists in Early Christian art. The figure in the Utrecht Psalter has no halo, as Christ almost always does in this manuscript. I suggest that the chariot-riding figure in the heavens was present in a late antique Jewish model, and that it was the source for the motif at the top of this illustration. In the upper left are four figures reclining in sarcophagi. To what words in the Hebrew text could they refer? DeWald points out that

verse 7 of the Latin Vulgate and Gallican can be translated as “[God] bringeth out them . . . that dwell in sepulchers.”276 There is no mention of sepulchers in the Hebrew. I suggest, however, that the figures in the sarcophagi were present in a Jewish model, for they can be illuminated by the Targum, the Midrash, and the Talmud. They reflect the Aramaic or the midrashic commentary on verses 9–11 of the Hebrew text: “The earth roared—even the heavens dripped [rain] before the Presence of God. This is Sinai—before the Presence of God” (verse 9). The presence of God at Sinai had overawed the children of Israel; their bodies had grown limp and lifeless.277 Then, according to the translation of the Targum, God “sent down the dew of revival upon them.”278 “You [God] restored your revival [life] in it.”279 This is understood to mean that God sent down upon the Israelites “the dew of revival,” by which he restored life, a fitting analogue for figures rising from sarcophagi. The Midrash expounds on verses 9–10 in a similar manner: “The earth trembled (Ps. 68:9) and at once all the living in the Land of Israel died: But the dead came to life as the Holy One, blessed be He, dropped the dew of resurrection on them, for the verse goes on to say The heavens also dropped [dew] at the presence of God (Ps. 68:9).”280 The “dew of life” is referenced further on in the Midrash when the sages elaborate on a phrase in 68:10: “A bounteous rain (Ps. 68:10). When the ministering angels saw that the breath of life had flown out of the children of Israel, they asked the Holy One, blessed be He: ‘To whom wilt Thou give the Torah, to the dead or to the quick?’ At once the Holy One, blessed be He, waved out rains of life over the children of Israel so that they should receive the Torah with abounding spirit.”281 The Talmud also refers to the “resurrection” motif when commenting on verse 10, which says, “A generous [bounteous]

rain did You lavish [pour out], O God.” The Talmudic reference is “R. Joshua b. Levi also said: At every word which went forth from the mouth of the Holy One, blessed be He, the souls of Israel departed, for it is said, My soul went forth when he spake [sic]. But since their souls departed at the first word, how could they receive the second word?—He brought down the dew with which He will resurrect the dead and revived them, as it is said, ‘Thou, O God, didst send a plentiful rain, Thou didst confirm thine inheritance, when it was weary.’”282 If one looks closely at those lying in the sarcophagi, it is apparent that the figure on the far left appears deceased and shrouded; next to him is one whose head is no longer wound in a shroud. The two tombs on the right hold men who have awakened and are beginning to move upward; they were dead, but the “generous rains” revived them. That “awakening” is the interpretation suggested by the Targum, the Midrash, and the Talmud. The Latin text, which includes the word “sepulcher,” need not have been the inspiration for the motif of the men gradually awakening in their tombs. It could have been a Jewish model informed by the Jewish commentary. The rest of the motifs are consonant with both the Latin and the Hebrew texts. On the left is Jerusalem, referenced in verse 30. Sitting next to the portal is a man with his hands on the shoulder of a nude boy. The boy is “little Benjamin who rules them” (68:28 in the Hebrew and 67:28 in the Latin). The man sitting behind him has been identified as representing “Israel,” as in verse 27, “from the source of Israel.” In the upper right the “righteous” are shown feasting, for they are “glad” (verse 4). The joy continues in the center lower right with women singing and playing the lyre, harp, and timbrel (verses 5, 26, and 33). Above the music makers are the widows and orphans (verse 6), and to the right

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 75

are the prisoners being released (verse 7). The left side of the image displays the kings bending forward as they present their offerings (verses 15 and 30). The Hebrew in verse 15 states that God “spreads out” (fares) the kings into a posture of submission.283 Flocks graze on the mountain and drink of the waters below (verse 11). Verse 22 is represented by God’s angel at the portal of the city, where he is “smashing” the “head of His enemies.” The head, described in the Hebrew and Latin as a “hairy skull,” is just what is represented by the figure groveling below the angel. The slain enemies beneath the feet of the angel drip blood, which the dogs lick up with their tongues (verse 24). The strength of God Figure 25 · Psalm 71/72, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 40v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

76 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

displayed in the form of water is coming from the Temple in the walled Jerusalem (verse 29). That water streams onto the land, and, toward the bottom center, it becomes the refreshment for the cattle quenching their thirst.

Psalm �1/�2 The Fleece, the Empty-Handed Angel, and King Solomon Fi gure 25 At first glance one would think that only the Latin text could explain two of the motifs in this illustration: the fleece and the empty-handed angel. However, both can be explained in a Jewish context as well, for the Hebrew and the Aramaic texts offer alternative meanings or amplify the accepted readings of verses 6 and 17. Those alternative meanings accord precisely with

the corresponding visual images in the Utrecht Psalter. The psalmist stands in the top left in a “valley.” As Van der Horst correctly deduced, a fleece is spread in front of him.284 The fleece is in the form of an oval-shaped object defined by some very faint lines and shading. Van der Horst points out that the fleece is mentioned in the Latin verse 71:6, Descendet sicut pluvia in vellus. “He shall come down like rain upon the fleece.” However, in the traditional translations of the Hebrew for the verse (72:6) no fleece is mentioned.285 The usual translation of the corresponding word in Hebrew (gez) is “mown.” The verse is read in reference to the king: “Let him [the king] be like rain that falls on a mown field, like a downpour of rain on the ground.” The idea here is, as Rashi says, that the words of the king will penetrate deep into the hearts of the people like the rain that saturates the earth.286 Likewise, the Midrash tells us that the phrase must “refer to rain upon the shorn field. As showers that water [zarzif] the earth.”287 But the translation of the Hebrew word gez as “mown” or “shorn field” leaves the visual motif of the fleece unexplained. However, the Hebrew word gez can also be translated as “fleece.”288 The rabbis compiling the Midrash were aware that the word could mean “fleece,” but they rejected that meaning. According to them, “If you say that the phrase refers to shorn fleece, what good would rain do it? Therefore the phrase must refer to rain upon the shorn field.”289 I suggest that a sage working with an artist in late anti­ quity would have known that the word gez could be interpreted as “fleece.” Apparently the visual motif of rain on a “fleece” was, for the original artist, more graphic than rain on a “shorn field.” Thus though the strokes and blotches are very indistinct, it is clear that in the model the artist drew a fleece at the feet of the psalmist.

This is another case where an alternative reading of a Hebrew word accords better with the Utrecht Psalter image than does the standard translation.290 At the top of the image are two angels. The one on the right holds the personification of the moon, a motif that often appears elsewhere in the Psalter. The other angel, strangely, holds nothing. His gesture suggests that he would be holding a circular object, but the bust of the sun is not in his hands as would be expected. What has not been recognized is that verse 17 in both the Hebrew and the Latin can explain this empty-handed angel: The Latin reads, ante solem permanet nomen ejus, “His name continueth [was present] before the sun.” The Hebrew can be understood in the same way: “Before the sun existed [lifnei] his name endures.” A literal visual translation of the phrase is the empty-handed angel, the implication being that the angel holding “no sun” in the space meant for a circular object is representing the idea “before the sun existed.” The Aramaic corroborates this understanding. The empty-handed angel is referenced in verse 17 of the Targum, where it is said of the king, “May his name be remembered for ever— even before the sun existed [or ‘was created’], his name was being prepared.”291 Like the Latin and the Hebrew, this Aramaic text expresses the idea that the king’s name “was being prepared” “even before the sun existed”; in other words, that his name existed before God made the sun. In a literal translation of this thought the artist created an image of “before time.” The Carolingian artist interpreted the central enthroned figure in the model as Christ. I will argue that originally the figure was Solomon. The superscription of this psalm states, “For Solomon,” and the first verse references the “son of the King.” Solomon is the first king who can be so named. Solomon was known for

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 77

his wisdom and his administration of justice, royal qualities emphasized in this psalm (verses 1–4). And several events in Solomon’s life are alluded to in the image, such as receiving gifts from the kings of Tarshish, Sheba, and Seba (verses 10–11).292 Furthermore, the imagery of the Stuttgart Psalter for Psalm 71/72 (fol. 83v) features the judgment of Solomon, though none of the Christian commentators make reference to that event. As we shall see, two of the motifs here surrounding Jesus could equally well have been attached to Solomon. At the top of the image is a wreath, a fitting attribute for King Solomon. In this instance the wreath could have related to the idea that this psalm might have been a coronation ode.293 A wreath over the king’s head would be appropriate in that context. In addition, a wreath held by a dove above Solomon’s head is described in an Amoraic Midrash, where Solomon’s throne is said to have had a dove at its top: “A golden wreath was in the dove’s mouth, and when he [Solomon] sat under it on the seat [of the throne] the wreath would touch but not quite touch his head.”294 A wreath also appears above the enthroned King Ahasuerus in the Dura Europos murals. Hence a King Solomon with a wreath above his head fits well within Jewish late antique imagery. Solomon, whose military power was well known (verse 9b), could likewise have been pictured with a conquered enemy groveling at his feet as we see here, a frequent late antique imperial motif. The groveling figure relates to verse 4: “Let him [Solomon] . . . crush the oppressor.” It was not difficult for the Carolingian illustrators to adapt the late antique royal Solomonic imagery to Christ, since Jesus was often pictured as a ruler. One motif, however, appears odd if one views this figure as Christ. The psalm specifies that the kings of Tarshish, Sheba, and

78 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

Seba shall offer tribute to the king (verse 10).295 Below left in the illustration are indeed three kings. It is, however, discordant to see three kings bringing gifts to the adult Christ rather than to the Christ child.296 I contend that in the Hebrew version the three kings were meant to be approaching Solomon. If the principal figure is reinterpreted as originally portraying Solomon, a late antique Jewish model for this image can be easily envisioned. The church fathers disputed the superscription dedicating the psalm to Solomon. Justin Martyr makes the argument: Nor does Ps. LXXII apply to Solomon, whose faults Christians shudder at. Further, to persuade you that you have not understood anything of the Scriptures, I will remind you of another psalm, dictated to David by the Holy Spirit, which you say refers to Solomon, who was also your king. But it refers also to our Christ. . . . And where it has been said, “O God, give Thy judgment to the king,” since Solomon was king, you say that the Psalm refers to him, although the words of the Psalm expressly proclaim that reference is made to the everlasting King, i.e., to Christ.297

With that patristic tradition of denying the psalm’s dedication to Solomon, it is understandable that in this illustration Christ would be substituted for him. The remaining motifs can be explained by both texts. The “poor” of verses 2, 4, and 13 are waiting in line to receive food from the man handing out bowls at the bottom. The “crying destitute one” of verse 12 may be the semiclothed man beneath the angel holding the moon. The king will dominate “from sea to sea,” shown by the boats in the waters below (verse 8). The king’s foes literally licking the dust are illustrated in the bottom right (verse 9). Verse 16b refers to the expected growing populations that will

“blossom forth from the city” on the right. That verse also mentions the fruit blooming on the tree in the center.

Psalm �3/�4 Winter and Winter’s Vessel; Thirteen Tribes Fi g u r es 2 6 and 2 6a At the top of the illustration are two small figures. In the center right is the personification of winter covered in a long, warm animal-skin

tunic, a typical garment for this cold-weather figure. Summer, on the left, is bare chested and wears short pants, garb appropriate for the summer heat (fig. 26a). These personifications reflect verse 17. The Hebrew reads, “You fixed all the boundaries of the earth; Summer and Winter Figure 26 · Psalm 73/74, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 42r. Photo: Utrecht University Library. Figure 26a · Psalm 73/74, detail.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 79

[ḥoref]—You made them.”298 The Vulgate and Gallican, however, make no mention of Winter. The verse translates, “You made summer and spring [ver],” aestatem et ver tu plasmasti ea (fol. 42v). Obviously, the representation of Winter here does not accord with the Latin text, for it is Winter, covered in the animal skin, not Spring, that is illustrated. Hence, the personification of a fully clothed winter here argues for a Jewish illustrated model dependent on the Hebrew text. The four seasons are a common motif in the late antique Jewish art of the Galilee, the place where I believe the model for these illustrations was created. Representations of the seasons have survived on six synagogue pavements, Hammat Tiberias among them (pl. 2).299 Though the figures are predominantly female, Summer is male at Sepphoris, as in the Psalter. At Hammat Tiberias, Winter is female, as she is in the Psalter, for we see long hair flowing down her back. The attribute in Winter’s hand is difficult to decipher. In Hammat Tiberias, Winter holds an amphora from which water flows (pl. 2). Based on that mosaic, I suggest that the circular object in Winter’s hand with a dark line streaming from it is likewise a vessel with flowing water. On the left are the members of the Lord’s “congregation,” his very own “tribe” that he redeemed (verse 2). Thirteen figures are present in the image. This may be an instance of numerological symbolism, for when God gave the land to the children of Israel, thirteen tribes received the inheritance (Josh. 13:7–33). The Levites received no land, and Joseph’s sons each received a half portion. This is one of the illustrations in which some scholars have seen an insertion of a Christological motif, the bathing of Jesus, supposedly taking place on the right.300 However, the baby in the tub, supposedly Jesus, has no

80 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

halo, as he does in a similar illustration to Psalm 86/87. Thus one might ask, what figures in a model following a hypothetical Hebrew text might have suggested this bathing scene here? Verses 19b and 21 allude to the “life of Your poor,” “oppressed,” and “destitute.” In the Jewish tradition these people are understood as the simple masses. Whatever simple people may have been present in the model, I suggest that the Utrecht artist chose to reinterpret them as the midwives bathing Jesus, with, to the right, Mary reclining on a cloth and Joseph sitting behind her.301 The rest of the motifs can be explained by either the Latin or the Hebrew text. The psalmist, in the center left, gestures toward what would have been the hand of God above Mount Zion (verses 1–2). He is asking God why he abandoned his “sheep” that are grazing near the top right (verse 1). Wild beasts threaten the psalmist from below (verse 19). The center of this image is filled with men destroying the Temple with hatches, axes, and torches (verses 3–8 and 10). Leviathans, or sea serpents, swim in the waters below. A figure on the left raises a spear to smash a Leviathan’s head (verses 13–14). The group of men on the right are engaged in destroying these snake-like Leviathans by slicing them with swords, perhaps to “serve as food” (verse 14).302 The sun and moon appear in the sky, for verse 16 references both the day and the night.

Psalm �8/�9 Hippodrome and Idol Fi gure 27 This psalm is about the defilement and destruction of Jerusalem—God’s “estate”—and the Temple, his “sanctuary” (verse 1). The late antique model for this image was based on

a reading of the psalm as if it referred to the first-century Roman destruction of the Holy City. Two motifs are particularly indicative of the defilement: the circular building at the back of the Temple and the idol standing on a column surmounting one of the turrets of Jerusalem’s walls. Behind the Temple on the right is what is meant to represent a circular Roman structure. Josephus writes about Herod’s having constructed a hippodrome in Jerusalem. Though no remains of such a circular structure have been found, one hypothesis is that it was not far from the Temple Mount.303 The hippodrome would have been present when the Romans destroyed the Holy Sanctuary. Jews of late antiquity would have regarded the hippodrome as a defilement of the nearby Temple Mount. A second motif indicative of the defilement is the idol holding a spear and a shield, and standing on a column above the tower. Such a Roman idol would have been seen as a sacrilegious element polluting the holy space.

Figure 27 · Psalm 78/79, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 46v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

No other insights can be gained by viewing this illustration from a Jewish perspective. In one motif, the psalmist and the devout near the center are looking up at what would have been the hand of God. The psalmist is lamenting that “the heathens” have entered the Lord’s domain (verse 1). He is petitioning the Lord to “pour out his fury” against those who have shed the blood of the people. The corpses of the Lord’s servants have been left as food for wild beasts (the lion and jackals) and for fowl (one of the birds appears to have a hand in its mouth) (verse 2). The destruction is seen as an affront to God, and the Lord is called upon to redress the heinous acts (verse 9). Thus the Lord’s angels shoot arrows, spears, tridents, and firebrands at the “nations that do not know You” (verses 6, 7, 10 and 12). A second representation of the psalmist

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 81

is next to the altar at the Temple portal. He is ready to sing the praises of the Lord for saving the people. In the upper right are the enemies, who appear to cringe in fright, and the sheep, symbolizing God’s “flock,” who shall glorify his name forever (verse 13).

Psalm 83/84 The Study House; The Teacher; David the Anointed Fi g u r e 28 a nd P l ate 7 The architectural elements of the Temple as represented in the Utrecht Psalter reflect those of late antique Jewish art and architecture, Figure 28 · Psalm 83/84, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 49r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

82 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

which, in turn, are common to Rome. The Dura Europos mural of the Consecration of the Temple/Tabernacle provides the best visual example of temple architecture as represented in Jewish art of this period: a central portal flanked by columns supporting a pediment and a tiled roof (pl. 7).304 Plans and elevations of several Galilean synagogues display similar components: a basilican structure with a central portal, a lintel, and a pediment or arcuated pediment with posts or flanking columns. The temple in this drawing is close in configuration to those Galilean synagogues and to a “great” synagogue, such as the one in Capernaum.305 The Galilean synagogues sometimes had an extra aisle or an exedra with a low roof attached to the main hall.306 Just such a representation of the Temple with an exedra is present on the left in the illustration to this psalm. This low side structure has columns supporting arches, and a

portal providing access from the exterior.307 Four figures are prominently displayed inside. The content of this psalm and its commentary, along with the presence of those figures inside the structure and looking up at God’s hand, points to the possibility that in the model the annex attached to the “temple/synagogue” was meant to represent a “house of study” (bet ha-midrash). Dan Urman has closely analyzed all the Jewish commentaries relating to the study house written during the rabbinic period.308 He has shown that it usually was connected to, or was nearby, the late antique synagogue. Starting at the time of the Amoraim (sages who lived in Talmudic time, ca. 200–ca. 500 CE ), around 239 CE, the house of study came to be differentiated from the house of assembly, or the synagogue. It could be a separate building, a space within the synagogue, or a kind of annex.309 I believe that this drawing illustrates a study house appended to the long wall of the temple/synagogue. The structure is characterized by three arches that are slightly shaded to indicate the depth of the space within. The figures are separated by columns topped by lightly sketched capitals. These columns accord with one Talmudic account that informs us that two late third-century sages preferred praying “between the pillars” (beinei ʿamudei) of the study house rather than in any of the thirteen synagogues at Tiberias.310 How does the motif of the study house relate to this psalm? Verses 2–7 express the author’s yearning to be near the “dwelling places” of God. We learn in verse 8 that such a man advances from “strength to strength” (meḥayil el ḥayil), striving to appear before God in Zion. In the Jewish commentaries and the Targum this idea of advancing from “strength to strength” is interpreted as going from the house of assembly (the synagogue) to the house of study. The “house of study” is not specifically mentioned in

the Hebrew text of the psalm (nor in the Latin). However, the Jewish sources interpret verse 8 as referring to it. For instance, in the Targum, the Aramaic translation of the Hebrew Bible, we find mention of a “house of study,” and it is connected to the Temple (84:8): “The righteous go from the house of the sanctuary to the house of study; their labor in the Law is seen before the LORD .”311 The Targum makes clear that the house of study where scholars “labor in the Law” is connected to the sanctuary. In the Midrash, the phrase advancing “from strength to strength” (meḥayil el ḥayil, verse 8) is likewise interpreted to mean going from the synagogue to the study house: “Whenever a man comes from a house of prayer and goes into a house of study, Scripture says of such as he, They go from strength to strength.”312 The Talmud also mentions the study house when discussing 84:8: “R. Levi b. Hiyya said: One who on leaving the synagogue goes into the House of Study and studies the Torah is deemed worthy to welcome the Divine Presence, as it says, They go from strength to strength.”313 Thus these Jewish commentaries on 84:8 and the text of the Targum emphasize the connection between the Temple/synagogue and the house of study.314 They support the proposal that, in this illustration, the arched structure attached to the side of the Temple can be identified as a house of study, and the people within are the righteous who are going from “strength to strength,” as stated in verse 8. Nothing in the Latin text nor the commentary of the church fathers alludes to a house of study.315 Nor do the figures in the exedra to the Temple relate to anything in the Latin text. Hence I propose that this image, reflecting the study house that the Targum and the Jewish commentaries evoke, was created in a Jewish milieu, for it illustrates the “study house” that was sometimes attached to the late antique

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 83

synagogue.316 The inclusion in this illustration of the study house referenced in the Midrash, Targum, and Talmud associated with 84:8 supports the contention that the model for the illustration originated in a Jewish milieu.317 In the upper left corner is a man holding an unfurled scroll. His right hand is raised in a gesture indicating he is “speaking.” This figure is meant to be the teacher referenced in verse 7c. The Hebrew word moreh is usually translated as “early rain,” as in “the early rain had covered it with blessing.”318 Moreh, however, can also be translated as “teacher.”319 That is how the word is understood in the Midrash: “Even there, the Teacher is clothed with blessing (Ps. 84:7).”320 The Vulgate and Gallican texts have the term legislator, and Jerome, in his Iuxta Hebraeos, uses the term doctor; both are appropriate textual analogues for this figure of the teacher. So this is not an instance where the Hebrew text better explicates the image. It is, rather, a place where the Utrecht image accords better with one translation of the Hebrew than with another.321 In the Hebrew of verse 10 we have the word for “Your anointed,” Meshiḥekha: “O God, behold our shield, and look upon the face of Your anointed.” In the Gallican text of the Utrecht Psalter the word “anointed” is replaced by XRI (fol. 49v), and the Vulgate uses the words Christi tui. It is noteworthy that although these words are found in the Latin, this illustration is one of the few times when the Carolingian artists have not inserted Christ into the image, even though both the text and the Christian commentators reference him here.322 In this image, the anointed one upon whose face God is asked to gaze is King David—whom we see center left, crowned, in military garb, and holding a spear.323 God’s presence is indicated by the traditional Jewish motif of the hand issuing from a cloud above. Rays from his fingers and palm fall upon

84 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

the crowned David. The figure of David rather than the crossed-nimbed Jesus, and the hand of God instead of the figure of Christ are, obviously, both motifs that would have been in a model created in a Jewish milieu. The rest of the motifs can be explained by reference to the Hebrew or the Latin text. Five men ascend the “paths” or “raised way”—that is, the “steps” drawn above the Temple on the left (verse 6). Though the Latin does not evoke steps, they are mentioned in Augustine’s commentary on verse 6/7, where he writes of “the steps of our ascent.”324 The Hebrew word mesillot (verse 6) means a “raised way” and can be interpreted as steps as well.325 The “tents of the wicked” (verse 11) appear in the lower right, and at the bottom the evil ones are killing or wounding their victims with their spears and swords. Their sack of gold has been spilled on the table, and the scales of justice are thrown over. The swallow in verse 2 has found a nest for her young in the tree in the upper right.

Psalm 94/95 Less Powerful Deities and Idols Fi gure 29 a nd Plat e 1 7 The psalmist, with his back toward us, holds a book and calls on the faithful to praise the Lord and greet him with Thanksgiving (verse 2). This is one of the psalms in which other “heavenly powers” or “divine beings” besides God are evoked (verse 3): “For the Lord is a great God, the great king of all divine beings [elohim].” Hence, far from denying the existence of other gods, Hebrew Scripture acknowledges them. In Exodus 12:12 we read, “And I will mete out punishments to all the gods of Egypt.” These other gods serve to show the Lord’s superiority over other divine beings.326 In this illustration,

the elohim are interpreted as referring specifically to those less powerful beings, or idols, of Egypt. These idols, nude and with hornlike hair, are depicted in the center. Flanked by the sacrificial animals, the bull and the sheep, they are standing on the rampart between the towers of Egypt. One such idol is represented in a similar way on the west wall of the synagogue at Dura Europos (pl. 17). The figure stands above an arched portal of a walled city that stands for the “Egypt” from which the Israelites have fled. Like the Utrecht depiction, the idol of the Dura painting also holds a spear and appears to be nude. The affinity with the Dura image argues for a possible link to a Jewish pictorial source for this motif. This being said, all of the motifs in this illustration can be explained by both the Hebrew and the Latin texts. Three figures in the lower right are kneeling: “Let us kneel before the Lord our Maker” (verse 6b). Above them are three sheep: “For He is our God and we are the flock He

Figure 29 · Psalm 94/95, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 55v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

pastures and the sheep in His charge” (verse 7). A group in the upper right stands on a hill, and a somewhat taller mountain is on the left: “The mountain summits are His” (verse 4c). These groups of people are referenced in verses 1–2: “Let us sing to the Lord. . . . Let us greet Him with thanksgiving.” In verses 8–11 we have divine speech quoted. God is angry at the Israelites for quarreling with him when they were thirsty in the wilderness (Exod. 17:3–7). In that instance God told Moses to take the rod with which he had spread open the Nile, and to strike the rock of Horeb with it. Water would issue forth, as it does on the left side of this illustration. The place where this event occurred was named Massah and Meribah (verse 8).327 Thus the motif

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 85

Figure 30 · Psalm 105/106, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 61v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

on the left of Moses striking the rock and providing water for the Israelites accords with those verses. The water from the rock flows into the sea at the bottom, also referenced here as “fashioned” by God (verse 5).

Psalm 105/106 Sons and Daughters/Offspring; Baʿal-Zephon Fi g u r e 3 0 and P late s 14 , 15, a nd  1 5c This psalm highlights Israel’s sins and adopts the view that the exile was caused by its own transgressions. The psalmist in the center top points toward the small group of standing men, women, and children on the extreme right. They represent those who have “gone astray, done evil” (verse 6). The foremost father appears to be pushing a child forward with his left hand. Two possible verses could be illustrated here. 86 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

One is that the boy, and the second child behind him, represent the “sons and daughters” that the parents are ready to sacrifice to the idols of Canaan (verse 38), an example of the evil they are ready to commit. The other more likely meaning is that the children are the “offspring” against whom God “lifted up His hand” when he dispersed the Israelite descendants among the nations (verses 26–27). Those “nations,” characterized by burly men with harsh features, stand ready with their hands open to take the children moving toward them. Most of the sins recounted in verses 7–12 relate to the Israelites not appreciating the wonders that God had accorded them during their flight from Egypt. The “enemy,” Pharaoh’s soldiers, stands armed in the lower right; those who have been “redeemed” are seated within the Temple (verse 10). The drowning of Pharaoh’s soldiers is shown at the front. Moses, with Aaron standing beside him, extends his rod over the “Sea of Reeds” and Pharaoh’s army drowns (verses 22b and 11). The motif of Pharaoh’s drowning soldiers is present in the art of three late antique synagogues. In addition to its representation in

the painting on the wall of the Dura synagogue (pl. 14) it is also portrayed in the floor mosaics in the synagogues at Khirbet Wadi Hamam (pl. 15) and at Huqoq (pl. 16b). On the left in the Wadi Hamam panel is a walled city toward which the soldiers would have been headed prior to their destruction (see below). It has a monumental facade with a portal and towers. Just such a city appears in the Utrecht depiction of the event (fig. 30). In both Wadi Hamam and in the Utrecht illustration a basilica is pictured within the city walls. In their discussion of this Wadi Hamam synagogue mosaic the excavators, Uzi Leibner and Shulamit Miller, point out that before the crossing of the Sea of Reeds the Lord commanded Moses to “encamp before PiHahiroth . . . before Baʿal-Zephon, over against it shall you encamp by the sea” (Exod. 14:2). Leibner and Miller suggest that the city in the mosaic may be the artist’s attempt to depict Baʿal-Zephon. Baʿal is the name of a Canaanite god, and Baʿal-Zephon was his cultic center. The building inside the city could be meant to

suggest the deity’s temple. According to the rabbinic homiletic tradition, Baʿal-Zephon was the spot chosen by the Lord in order to lure the Egyptians in that direction.328 None of the many Christian representations of the story resemble the Wadi Hamam or the Utrecht Psalter depiction in this respect. The Utrecht walled, towered city with a basilica inside could be a remnant of that same Wadi Hamam tradition, and as such would provide another argument for a model stemming from a Jewish milieu.

Psalm 108/109 Satan; The Oil Horn Fi gure 31 Two of the motifs in this illustration might seem as if they could not appear in a drawing Figure 31 · Psalm 108/109, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 64r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 87

accompanying a Hebrew text. I will show, however, that both can be accounted for, given a Jewish version. First of all, both the text and the image include Satan (verse 6): “Appoint a wicked man over him [my enemy]; may Satan [satan] stand at his [my enemy’s] right side.” (In Latin the word used in verse 6 is diabolus, “the devil.”) The implied enemy in David’s prayer is traditionally understood as Doeg the Edomite (verse 6). The meaning of the verse is that David’s enemy will see how bitter it is to be dominated by Satan.329 In the top center left Satan is depicted as a winged, partially nude figure gripping the hair and right shoulder of the enemy and pulling him backward. Satan’s left knee is thrust into the man’s back. The brief loincloth worn by Satan has snakes writhing out of it. The idea that such a figure could have been in a Jewish model is consonant with the many literary references to a humanoid Satan in Jewish thought. In the Bible, the Hebrew word satan, signifying the name of a particular figure, appears in Zechariah 3, in Job 1–2, and in 1 Chronicles 21:1. During the Amoraic period (ca. 200–ca. 500 CE , when I hypothesize that the model for the Utrecht Psalter was created) Satan became more prominent in Jewish literature, especially in the Talmud and Midrash.330 In the Jewish texts of the time, Satan appears as the Adversary, the Angel of Death, the Tempter, and the Accuser. In the liturgy of the period, one of the morning blessings concludes with a prayer of R. Judah the Prince to be spared from “the corrupting Satan.”331 Hence the creation of a figurative representation of Satan in an illustrated version of the Hebrew psalms is in accord with the literary evidence of the time. Another motif in the illustration is also reflected in the Hebrew text, though at first glance this might not appear to be the case. Near the top right the emaciated psalmist is supported by 88 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

an angel. At his feet is an empty oil horn. The Latin text that accords with this motif reads, “My knees are weakened through fasting: and my flesh is changed for oil [oleum]” (verse 24). The meaning of the image is that the psalmist has been fasting, and he has had no olive oil to strengthen him. The oil horn is the literal representation of what he is lacking. The corresponding Hebrew word in verse 24 is usually translated as “fat” in English; but the word (shamen) actually encompasses the meaning for both “fat” and “oil.”332 So the empty oil horn would be an appropriate reflection of the Hebrew as well as the Latin text, and thus this image could just as well have originated in a Jewish milieu. All other motifs can be explained by the Latin or the Hebrew text. To the right of the emaciated psalmist are those to whom he has become a disgrace: “They see me and shake their heads” (verse 25). In verses 6–17 David curses his enemy, and in verses 18 and 19 the psalmist asks that additional curses plague him: “May he be clothed in a curse like a garment, may it enter his body like water, his bones like oil. Let it [the curse] be like the . . . belt he always wears.” Suspended from the central tree are the three items mentioned in those verses. From the central tree hang the garment and the horn with oil pouring from it. The belt is suspended from the branch on the left. At the foot of the tree is a vessel with water streaming out. To the left of the tree are the enemy’s widow and orphans; the children are represented as unclothed beggars (verses 9–10). The “creditor[s]” of verse 11 are reaching into a box and seizing “all that he [the enemy] has.” The plunder is further represented by the stranger in the lower left kicking the kneeling enemy in the chest. Above them are those looking up at what would have been God’s hand rather than the figure Jesus. They are reacting to the Lord’s power with astonishment: “Let them know that this is Your

hand, that You have done it” (verse 27). They see that it is through the Lord’s power that the enemy is being bent backward and undone. The crowd in the lower right is clothed in noticeably heavy cloaks. They are the enemy mentioned in verse 29: “May my accusers be clothed in humiliation, and may they wrap themselves in their shame as in a cloak.”

Psalm 109/110 The Priest-King: Abraham or David Fi g u r e 3 2 Verse 1 begins with the words “The Lord said to my lord.” And in the sentence that follows, the Lord speaks to an unidentified figure: “‘Sit at My right hand while I make your enemies your footstool.’” In the Christian tradition, the Lord is interpreted as speaking to Jesus. And that is how the verse has been depicted in the

illustration: a cross-nimbed Jesus is seated at the right hand of the Lord. This interpretation of the verse and its pictorial rendition could have been inspired by the Nicene Creed (as revised in 381), which evokes the image of God and Jesus seated in heaven: “I believe in One Lord Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God. . . . He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.”333 The question arises, what might a Jewish model for this illustration have looked like, for it would not have portrayed two figures as shown in the present image. First of all, the hand of God would have taken the place of the figure on the right. The identity of the other figure—in a hypothetical Jewish model—can be discerned in several sections in the Midrash. In the Midrash Figure 32 · Psalm 109/110, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 64v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 89

it is either Abraham or David who is understood as being the “lord” referred to in the Hebrew text of verse 1: “The Lord [YHWH ] said to my lord [ladoni].” The rabbis who identify “my lord” (ladoni) as Abraham offer the following reading: “The Lord [YHWH ] saith unto my lord [ladoni]: ‘Sit thou at My right hand until I make your enemies thy footstool.’ . . . Because the nations of the earth were asleep, they did not come under the wings of the Presence. And who roused them up to come take refuge under His wings? Abraham.”334 The Midrash goes on to amplify the idea that the “lord” could be identified as Abraham by specifically citing his war against Amraphel’s armies: “R. Judah said that Abraham took up dust and threw it against his enemies, and it turned into swords, and that he took up stubble and threw it, and it turned into bows and arrows.” And Abraham pursued them and eventually slew all the hosts of the enemy.335 The rabbis asked, “Who, then, fought all the battles? It was the Holy One, blessed be He: He said to Abraham Sit thou at My right hand and I shall fight the battles for thee.”336 The opinion that Abraham is the “lord” and waged battle with God’s help is likewise expressed in the Talmud: “Shem, [Noah’s] eldest son, said to Eliezer [Abraham’s servant]. ‘When the kings of the east and the west attacked you, what did you do?’—He replied. ‘The Holy One, blessed be He, took Abraham and placed him at His right hand, and they [God and Abraham] threw dust which turned to swords, and chaff which turned to arrows, as it is written, A Psalm of David. The Lord said unto my master, Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool, and it is also written, Who raised up the righteous man [sc. Abraham] from the east, called him to his foot; gave the nations before him, and made him rule over kings? he made his sword as the dust, and his bow as driven stubble.’”337 90 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

Though the Midrash dwells longest on Abraham as the “lord,” David also has a claim to that title in the Jewish commentary: Rabbi Shallum the Levite taught that David said: When the Holy One . . . sent the prophet Samuel to anoint me, saying to him Fill thy horn with oil, and go, I will send thee to Jesse (1 Sam. 16.1), He meant to seat me as lord and sovereign over Israel. But since God knew that no reign ought to overlap another by even a hair’s breadth, he [sic] said to me: ‘Sit thou at My right hand.’ Await the end of Saul . . . for he has still a little while. After Saul’s death, thou shalt reign until I make thine enemies thy footstool.338

The Targum likewise interprets this psalm in relation to David waiting for Saul to die.339 So according to the Midrash, the Talmud, and the Targum, in this image either Abraham or possibly David would have sat or stood to the right of the hand of God. The two enemies would have groveled below like a footstool, as they do here.340 Verses 2–3 go on to stress the powers of the king, all of which come from God. He crushes other kings, as we see illustrated at the bottom, where a crowned king is among those retreating from the spears of the angel doing God’s work (verse 5). In verse 4, the psalmist has God speaking again: “You are a priest [Khohen] forever, in accord with the word of Melchizedek.” This verse does not illuminate whether Abraham or David was next to God’s hand in the model. Both could be referenced by verse 4. On the one hand, Melchizedek is the personal name of the priestking who figures in the Abraham story (Gen. 18–20); but the words that make up the name Melchizedek could also be alluding to David. The verse wherein God says, “You are a priest forever, in accord with the word of Melchizedek” can also be read, “You are a priest forever, a rightful king by My decree.” The two Hebrew

words that make up the name Melchizedek (malki tsedek) are literally the words for “rightful king.”341 Thus “Melchizekek” could either be the personal name of the priest-king of Salem or could refer to a king in general, one who performs priestly roles and is a “priest forever.”342 Melchizedek did have the double role of priest and king, and he is viewed as offering a precedent for the similar roles of David and Davidic kings.343 Thus I contend that the Lord and Jesus as represented in this illustration are a Carolingian interpretation. In a Jewish model, one would have seen God’s hand, with one “lord,” David or possibly Abraham, enthroned nearby.344 The feet of Abraham or David could have been on a footstool created by the bodies of the foes. On the right is God’s angel throwing spears at the enemy seen in the valley below—“heaping up bodies and crushing heads” (verses 5–6). Since both Abraham and David are known as warriors, either one could be the figure in military garb standing in the lower right, drinking

“from the stream on his way” and holding “his head high” (verse 7). The star in the upper left can be explained by either the Hebrew or the Latin text. In verse 3, the Latin text has the word luciferum, the “day star”; the Hebrew text has the word sheḥar, which can mean “dawn” or “morning star.”345 In the Utrecht image the star’s rays shine down on those holding torches; they are the people who come forward willingly on the day of battle (verse 3a).

Psalm 112/113 The Empty Throne of God Fi gure 33 In several psalms we find the notion that God is “enthroned.” Though the literal meaning of the word in the text is “sitting” (yashav), various Figure 33 · Psalm 112/113, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 66r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 91

forms of that word take on the wider meaning of “enthroned” in a number of psalms: 2:4 (He who is enthroned in heaven); 9:8 (He is enthroned); 29:10 (the Lord sat enthroned); 55:20 (He who is enthroned); 102:13 ([God] will be enthroned forever).346 The idea of God sitting upon a holy throne is also evoked in the Midrash. For instance, the midrashic commentary on Psalm 2 evokes Psalm 47:9: “His sitting is in holiness, as is said God sitteth upon the throne of His holiness (Ps. 47:9).”347 Though in the Jewish context God has no corporality, he is described in other places in the Bible as walking, hearing, and seeing.348 All of those instances are commonly interpreted metaphorically. The idea of God’s being enthroned is likewise meant in the Jewish context as metaphor. When it came to translating the Psalms into the visual language of the model for the Utrecht Psalter, the textual metaphors became, for the most part, concrete and literal. Just such a concretization of a metaphorical allusion occurred in Psalm 112/113. In verse 113:5 of the Hebrew the psalmist asks, “Who is like the Lord our God, Who is enthroned on high . . . ?” I believe this verse gave rise to the image in the center of this illustration: the empty throne, empty because God is invisible. The motif could not have come from an illustration of a Latin model. Verse 5 of the Vulgate and Gallican, unlike the Hebrew, has no allusion to “sitting,” nor does it evoke a throne.349 The presence of the empty throne, upon which, the Hebrew text tells us, God would metaphorically sit, is another argument supporting the hypo­ thesis that the model of the Utrecht Psalter illustrations originated in a Jewish milieu.350 The rest of the motifs can be explained by the Latin or the Hebrew text. An angel helps a needy one up “from the dust” (verse 7) to seat him with the “nobles of His people” on the

92 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

benches to the left and right (verse 8). The “glad mother” who had been barren and whom God has made fruitful stands in the center with her children (verse 9). The “servants of the Lord,” praising his name and holding palms, flank the image at the bottom (verse 1).

Psalm 113 in the Latin, Psalms 114–115 in the Hebrew Motifs for Two Separate Hebrew Psalms Pressed into One Illustration; The Three Water Miracles Fi gure 34 The Hebrew Psalms 114 and 115 are combined into one Latin psalm, which is numbered Psalm 113. So the motifs that would have accompanied the individual Hebrew Psalms 114 and 115 are, as we will see, set side by side and relate to that one Latin psalm (the text of which is on the verso of fol. 66). As with Psalm 9 in the Latin (which is 9 and 10 in the Hebrew), since the Hebrew Psalms 114 and 115 originally had two separate images illustrating the two different Hebrew psalms, the one drawing is unusually crowded. For the most part, the motifs corresponding to Hebrew Psalm 114 have been placed on the left, and those for Hebrew Psalm 115 on the right. The image of “Egypt,” the walled city, serves as a motif for both psalms. Hebrew Psalm 114 brings together the three water miracles set in motion by the Lord when he saved the children of Israel as they “went forth from Egypt” (114:1): one, the parting of the Red Sea; two, the crossing of the Jordan; and three, the rock at Horeb being turned into “a pond of water” (verses 3–5 and 8). Those miracles are all illustrated on the left side of the image.351 The Israelites are saved through these water miracles, and all nature came to witness

the power of God, an event symbolized by the mountains skipping “like rams, the hills like sheep” (verse 4), illustrated in the upper left. The first miracle, the exodus from Egypt and the beginning of the parting of the Sea of Reeds, is illustrated in the foreground. The Israelites, with Moses and Aaron at their head, emerge from the portal of Egypt. The depiction is similar to that in the wall painting of the synagogue at Dura Europos: the movement of the figures is from right to left, from the walled city with idols, turrets, crenellations, and arched portal toward the Sea of Reeds (pls. 13 and 17). As at Dura, a child is being led by the hand as the Israelites move away from “Egypt.” At the head of the group and next to the water is Moses, his rod poised to open the sea: “The sea saw and fled” (114:3a and 5). The “fleeing” motion is emphasized by the circular counterclockwise spirals of the waves receding from Moses’s staff.352 The exodus is mentioned in the patristic writings on this psalm, but it is given a different meaning.353

Figure 34 · Psalm 113 in the Latin, Psalms 114 and 115 in the Hebrew, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 66r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

The Midrash discusses all three water miracles. It gives several explanations for verse 3, all of them involving the miracle at the Sea of Reeds. One explanation for the sea “fleeing” is that “it saw the Ineffable Name engraved on the rod [of Moses], and it fled, as is said And lift thou up the rod, and stretch out thy hand over the sea, and divide it (Exod. 14:16).”354 Moses with his rod, as well as the “fleeing sea,” is what we observe in the image. Above the Sea of Reeds is the representation of the second water miracle (114:3b and 114:5b), a reference to when the Jordan “turned backward.” The event is described in Joshua 3:14–17: “As soon as the bearers of the Ark reached the Jordan and the feet of the priests bearing the Ark dipped into the water at its edge, the waters

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 93

coming down from upstream piled up in a single heap a great way off . . . ; and those flowing away downstream to the Sea of Arabah . . . ran out completely. . . . The priests who bore the Ark of the Lord’s Covenant stood on dry land exactly in the middle of the Jordan, while all Israel crossed over on dry land.” The profile of the thickened hillock behind the Israelites represents the waters flowing down from the upstream hill. That shaded area represents the waters “piled up in a single heap.” Beneath the feet of the three Israelites at the head of the crowd, the artist drew another dark shaded area evidently representing the water that was gathering under their feet. To the right of the three Israelites who are leading the crowd are the two priests bearing the Ark. Their feet are on dry land. The people about to cross behind the Ark-bearers gaze up to what would have been, in the model, the hand of God, whose miracle of making “the Jordan turned [run] backward” they thus acknowledge (verse 3b). The midrashic commentary on 114:3 reads, “The Jordan turned backward (Ps. 114:3). What was this? What concern was it of the Jordan’s?” The Midrash then goes on to answer, “When the Jordan beheld the [Red] sea in flight, it, too, fled.”355 The third water miracle revolves around the rock God turned into “a pond of water” (verse 8).356 Dufrenne, though favoring the interpretation that the illustration represents the parting of the Sea of Reeds, does mention that the image could also relate to the miracle of the rock bringing forth water.357 Again, the church fathers give it a different meaning. In Augustine, for instance, the waters are viewed as Christ, who “melted Himself, and what may be called His hardness to water.”358 The reference is to the rock of Horeb mentioned in Exodus 17:6. It is likewise commented upon in the Midrash. The

94 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

Israelites in the desert quarreled with Moses over the lack of water. The Lord told Moses that if he struck his rod on the rock at Horeb, water would come forth. The Midrash comments on verses 7–8 by pointing to the “presence of the Lord who created the earth of whom it is written, Thou hadst formed the earth and the world (Ps. 90:2): yea, At the presence of the God of Jacob, who turned the rock into a pool of water, the flint into a fountain of waters (Ps. 114:8).”359 The rock of Horeb and the pool formed by its waters are shown on the extreme left of the illustration, to the left of the crowd of Israelites. Water springs out from a circle in the large, tall rock behind them and trickles down to a pool. This third water miracle, like the other two, demonstrates that the Lord has power over all the materials of the earth and can alter them as he wishes. Thus this illustration to the original Hebrew Psalm 114 clearly includes all three water miracles. Psalm 115 in the Hebrew text (Latin 113:9–26) is illustrated on the right side of the image. The turrets of Egypt are there to support idols of “silver and gold, the handiwork of man” (Hebrew 115:4; Latin, 113:12); they cannot speak, see, hear, smell, feel, or walk (Hebrew 115:5–7; Latin 113:13–15). One idol is supported on a tower behind and above the city gate. Two Egyptians are trying to set up another idol, but it topples, and four of their helpers are, like the idols, falling from the ladder into the pit (Hebrew 115:8; Latin 113:16). The final motif derived from Psalm 115 is verse 17: “The dead cannot praise the Lord” (Latin 13:25). The two shrouded figures lying in the sarcophagi, center right, represent those dead. Thus the artist who executed this drawing had to crowd together the motifs relating to two Hebrew psalms into one illustration in order to reflect the combined Latin texts.

Psalm 115/116 David Bearing a Cup, Casting Off His Bonds, Holding the Platter with the Offering, and Being Attacked by a Man with a Spear Fi g u r e 3 5 Hebrew Psalm 116 was divided into two psalms in Latin. Latin 114:1–114:9 accords with the Hebrew text of 116:1–116:9. Latin Psalm 115 (its verses are numbered 10–19) accords with Hebrew Psalm 116:10–19. I will show that the image at the bottom of folio 67r, an image that is supposed to accord with Latin Psalm 115, which is written at the top of 67v, was, in the model, an image that reflected the whole of Hebrew Psalm 116. (I will be using the numeration of the Hebrew version in my discussion below.) Scholars have generally accepted Dufrenne’s proposal that the Christian motifs in the Utrecht Psalter were added in the ninth century.360 The crucified Jesus in the image at the bottom of folio 67r is an example of just such an

insertion. The ninth-century artist who added the motif tried to rework the scene slightly to give new meaning to the figure to the left of the cross. The artist positioned his arm so that a cup in his hand is below the wound of Christ and the blood flows into it. The attempt to Christianize the scene, however, left a glaring anomaly front and center: the man aiming the spear toward the cupbearer’s body. I will argue that the only reading that accounts adequately for all the visual elements in the scene, with the exception of the inserted crucified Christ, depends on the Hebrew text and the Jewish tradition. According to that tradition, this psalm is understood as David’s call for God’s help (verses 1–4). God has answered him in the past, and now he requests his aid once more. The psalmist Figure 35 · Psalm 115/116, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 67r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 95

then asks how he can repay God “for all His kindness to [him]” (verse 12). In verse 13 David himself answers the question: “I will raise the cup of deliverance and invoke the name of the Lord.” David thereby raises the cup and vows a public thanksgiving offering if God will help him: “I will pay my vows to the Lord.”361 In the illustration David is doing just that, raising the cup toward what would have been the hand of God in the model. The phrase “cup of deliverance” might be taken literally, as referencing the libation accompanying the offering, or metaphorically, as a kind of “toast” to God invoking his great deeds.362 Either way, the image of the psalmist with his arm aloft implies that he vows a public offering to the Lord. I believe that the model had just such a figure: David lifting his offering, his cup—the libation or “toast”— toward the hand of God. In his right hand David holds a platter with an offering upon it, a motif that illustrates verse 17: “I will offer up a thanksgiving offering to You.” That thanksgiving offering will be presented at the Temple in Jerusalem, which we see pictured on the left (verse 19).363 The objects on the platter could represent a thanksgiving offering of unleavened cakes mingled with oil, as mentioned in Leviticus 7:12–13. David’s vow would have been paid in the presence of other people. The two figures to the right of the cross represented, in the model, the witnesses to the offering referenced in verses 14 and 18, an offering made “in the presence of all His people.” Another iconographic element that is a direct illustration of the Hebrew text is the cords hanging from David’s left upper arm. In verse 3 David says, “The bonds (or cords) [ḥevlei] of death encompassed me.”364 In verse 16 he alludes to the cords now being broken, as they are in the image: “You have undone the cords [moserah] that bound me.”365 These “bonds” or “cords” of

96 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

death are literally portrayed by the cords that hang down from David’s arm. They are now loose, for God has released David’s bonds. The most important motif demonstrating that this illustration originally belonged with Hebrew Psalm 116 is the man with the spear. No allusion to this figure is present in Latin Psalm 115:10–115:19. (The text of Latin Psalm 115:10–19 is placed on folio 67v, right after the bottom image on folio 67r, a position that means the verses are supposed to relate to the image drawn just before it.) The spear-bearer is front and center, and rather large. Obviously he was a key figure in the late antique model. As can be seen, he is aiming his spear toward David. I believe that in the model he represented Saul’s threat to David, a threat articulated in Hebrew verses 116:8–116:9: “You [Lord] have rescued my soul from death. . . . I will walk before God in the lands of the living.” According to the Jewish understanding of these verses, they refer to the story of David being forced to flee from Saul and then eventually returning, as set down in 1 Samuel 21:11.366 This threat of death at Saul’s hand is reflected in the lance-bearer aiming his weapon directly at David. Dufrenne has proposed that the crucifixion motif in this illustration was not part of the late antique model, but rather was a Carolingian addition, and her opinion has been universally accepted.367 The spear-bearer, however, has presented scholars with an interpretive problem. DeWald questions whether or not the spear-bearer could be Longinus, the soldier who pierced Jesus’s side at the crucifixion (John 19:34).368 The problem is that the spear-bearer is not moving toward Jesus, but rather toward the cupbearer. Dufrenne calls the spear-bearer a hapax and believes that he does not correspond to any of the words or verses in the text.369 She was looking at the Gallican text of Psalm 115,

which comes after the image, on folio 67v, and, as she saw, the lance-bearer does not reflect any of those verses. Consequently Dufrenne sees David’s gesture and the presence of the lancebearer (whom she identifies as Longinus) as a grouping from diverse sources brought together to express a Eucharistic theology alien to the pictorial literalism of the Utrecht Psalter.370 As such, his inclusion there, according to Dufrenne, represents “un bouleversement de l’iconographie de la crucifixion.” The soldier with the spear “ne correspond à aucune expression du texte.”371 Van der Horst likewise acknowledges that the scene is puzzling. He remarks that “the lance-bearer Longinus has had to make way for the psalmist and has ended up in an unusual position.”372 These scholars did not think that the man with the lance might relate to the original Hebrew text (comprised of Latin Psalms 114 and 115), and be reflected in a model based on that text, a model in which the spear-bearer symbolized Saul’s threat to David. Though Dufrenne and Van der Horst accept that, if viewed as part of the crucifixion scene, the man with the lance does not fit the text and is, at the very least, an anomaly, Celia Chazelle takes a different stance. She sees the spearbearer as part of the crucifixion imagery and as a product of “independent Carolingian design decisions.”373 She then goes on to interpret the illustration as reflective of Augustine’s commentary. Based on that source, she sees David about to receive the blow from the spear-bearer as an imitation of Christ in his pain—that is to say, the psalmist faces the same fate as Jesus, and he accepts martyrdom.374 Chazelle proposes that “the [Latin] Psalm 115 picture was most likely conceptualized in its entirety by its Carolingian designer.”375 She sees this illustration as unusual in that, from her point of view, it does not literally illustrate the text. I maintain that her

conclusions are inaccurate. She does not take account of the fact that if one looks at Latin Psalms 114 and 115 (i.e., Hebrew Psalm 116), all the motifs can be explained. Given the full Hebrew text, the spear-bearer can be perfectly well accounted for, and indeed, like the other psalms in the Psalter, this illustration can be seen as a literal depiction of the text. As mentioned earlier in this book, Van der Horst showed that the illustrations and the Latin text came from two separate sources. I have been arguing that the imagery ultimately depends on a Hebrew text. This psalm provides another proof for that argument. All of the motifs in this illustration, except for the crucifixion and Jesus’s flowing blood, can be accounted for by the Hebrew text of Psalm 116. They cannot, however, be adequately accounted for by Latin Psalm 115. In summation, the model must have portrayed the hand of God acknowledging David’s offering of thanksgiving: the libation cup and the fruits. The Carolingian artist interpolated Jesus on the cross. Looking at David with his cup raised, the ninth-century artist cleverly devised a new twist to the motif: the psalmist raising his cup to gather the blood of Christ, a motif that was not known until this time.376 The Carolingian artist thereby made it possible for the Christian viewer to see the whole illustration in a different context.377 Given her Christological interpretation, Chazelle sees in the Carolingian adaptation a break with the tradition of literal illustration characteristic of most of the manuscript. I have argued, however, that with the exception of the crucified Christ, all of the motifs are literal illustrations of the Hebrew text and must have been in a late antique Jewish model. The image was not “conceptualized in its entirety by its Carolingian designer.”378 Only the crucified Christ was added. The Carolingian

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 97

artist adapted David’s gesture into one where the cup is in position to receive Christ’s blood. Apart from that detail and the inserted crucified figure, I see nothing in the image that does not accord with the traditional Hebrew understanding of the psalm. All the rest of the motifs can also easily be interpreted in the context of the Hebrew psalm. We learn that the “thanksgiving offerings” will be presented in “the courtyards of God’s house, in the midst of Jerusalem” (116:17 and 116:19). The Temple, the house of the Lord, is on the left, and the enclosing walls of Jerusalem surround the main motifs. Lying in front of the Temple are two slain bodies. A henchman is killing a third. These figures are the pious ones referenced in 116:15: “The death of His pious ones is difficult in God’s eyes.”379 One of the figures within the confines of the wall on the right points to the lips of another. Perhaps his gesture reflects mankind’s deceit mentioned in verse 116:11. The soldiers outside the walls on the right allude to the conflict between Saul and David mentioned above.380

Psalm 118/119 The Torah on the Lectern; Personified Wrath; The Pit Fi g u r es 36 a nd 36a The book on the lectern at the portal of the Temple is the salient motif in this illustration. Its centrality is important, for this psalm is about God’s law, his torah. The psalm is composed of an eightfold alphabetic acrostic of the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Each verse starts with a letter of the alphabet that is repeated at the head of seven more verses. Corresponding to this eightfold acrostic is the use of eight words for “torah.” In English

98 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

the seven other words are translated as “laws,” “word,” “commandments,” “rules,” “decrees,” “precepts,” and “teaching.”381 Jerome saw the eightfold acrostic arrangement in the Hebrew, and he copied the appropriate letters into his translations of the Psalms in the Vulgate, the Hebraeos, and the Gallican. Thus the Utrecht Psalter’s Gallican text alludes to the acrostic present in the Hebrew, for at the head of each of the eight verses of the Latin, the name of the correct Hebrew letter is spelled out in red Latin letters: aleph, beth, gimel, deleth [sic], and so on (fols. 68v, 69r). This is one of the few Utrecht illustrations where the Carolingian artist did not insert an image of Christ. All the focus here is on the book on the altar, the Torah. Two different representations of the psalmist emphasize its importance (fig. 36a). To the left of the Temple portal is the psalmist as an old man, bearded and haggard. Rather than looking toward God’s hand emerging from the cloud behind him, he gazes at the open book of the Torah. His arms are spread apart at his sides and his palms are open, thus reflecting verse 48, which literally reads, “I will stretch out my palms to Your commandments.” This is an allusion to the typical Jewish prayer position of outstretched arms.382 The intensity of the psalmist’s gaze and his gesture highlight the primacy of the book of God’s law. The psalmist’s language describing the Torah verges on the mystical.383 That intense emotion is also expressed visually in a second representation of the psalmist, this time as a young man, and indeed the psalmist speaks in the voice of a youth (verse 141): “I am young [tsaʾir ] and despised.”384 The psalmist likewise refers to himself as a young man (naʾar) in verse 9.385 We see this younger psalmist kneeling at the bottom of the stairs, his body flung across the steps, his hands reaching up toward the Torah: “My soul clings

to the dust” (verse 25). His position reflects the emotional, mystical language present in many of the verses: “I cling to Your decrees” (verse 31); “I have longed for Your precepts” (verse 40); “O how I love Your teaching!” (verse 97). “Decrees,” “precepts,” and “teaching” are all understood here as synonyms for torah. Those verses correspond to the deep emotion apparent in the body language of the prone young psalmist. Berlin and Brettler remark that in this psalm “a close relationship to Torah replaces a close relationship with God, and that in general, ‘Torah’ as a manifestation of the deity supplants God.”386 The gestures and positions of both the young and the old psalmists reflect that intensity of devotion to torah. On the left of the illustration are four men who walk “with the Torah of the Lord” (verse 1). The two front figures hold scrolls, one rolled up, the other unfurled. Rows of dots on the scroll stand for the words of the Lord. The two walking behind them hold a scroll and an open book. The scrolls and book reveal that these

Figure 36 · Psalm 118/119, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 68v. Photo: Utrecht University Library. Figure 36a · Psalm 118/119, detail.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 99

men follow God’s teachings. Their presence emphasizes the theme of devotion to torah. On the right, three crowned princes sit upon a throne flanked by lions. They are the princes in verse 23 who “sat and spoke against” the psalmist. Though henchmen with spears are guarding them, they will soon experience the “anger” or “wrath” (kinʾah) that the psalmist feels toward them, for they have neglected God’s “words”— that is, his torah (verse 139).387 “Anger” is personified by the figure to the right of the portal. (It is difficult to tell if the personification is male or female; the long hair suggests a female.) With her left hand she pulls aside the curtain revealing the Torah. This gesture accords with verse 19: “Hide not Your commandments from me.” With her right hand she brandishes a battle-ax. She has already hurled one toward the princely foes who ignored God’s “words.” It flies through the air, about to strike them. The foremost prince, who holds the scepter, gestures toward two men standing in the center right. One holds a book, the other a scroll, and their prominence suggests that they might be prophets. The Midrash on this psalm provides an insight into which two prophets they could be. In its commentary on verse 51 the Midrash asks, “What did He mean in saying The proud have had me greatly in derision?”388 The interpretation offered is that they are “the nations [that] deride me [the psalmist], saying, He that sent you into exile will not bring you back; as Scripture says, “The anger of the Lord hath divided them [the Israelites]; He will no more regard them (Lamentations 4:16),” and says further, “‘Depart ye, ye unclean!’ . . . (Lam. 4:15). Hence it is said The proud have had me greatly in derision. Nevertheless, I have not turned aside from Thy Law.”389 The midrashic interpretation of 119:51 uses the Jeremiah text to show how the evil ones taunt the psalmist with the idea that

the Lord does not “regard him” and address him as “unclean.” Nevertheless, the psalmist keeps true to his faith and does not swerve from his study of the Torah. The citation from Jeremiah, expressing God’s anger, only shows the psalmist’s determination to be steadfast in his devotion to torah. Isaiah is the other prophet quoted in the Midrash accompanying 119:51. We learn that the taunting kings, the “nations,” mock the psalmist, saying, “‘You must not be circumcised! You must not keep the Sabbaths! You must not read the Scriptures!’ I [the psalmist] do not hearken unto them. . . . They are like grass. . . . As Scripture says, The grass withereth, the flower fadeth (Isaiah 40:7). . . . But the word of our God shall stand for ever (Isaiah 40.:8).”390 Once again the psalmist keeps firm in his determination to study torah. Given the citations from Jeremiah and Isaiah in the midrashic commentary on verse 51, it is possible that they are the prophets standing before the prideful, taunting princes. In verse 85 the psalmist laments, “Willful sinners dug pits [shichot] for me.” The artist has provided a literal representation of these Hebrew words by drawing an open pit near the center of the image. The Latin text, on the other hand, makes no reference to pits.391 We learn from the Midrash that the Holy One says that those “pits” are not intended for the psalmist. The commentary tells us that the Lord says, “Speak not thus. The wicked have digged [sic] the pits for themselves . . . as is said Whoso diggeth a pit shall fall therein (Proverbs 26:27).”392 Front and center some sinners are scrambling to escape the pit, others are confined within. They, not the psalmist, are destined to be consumed. Thus the Hebrew text and the midrashic commentary provide a fuller understanding of the meaning of the motifs illustrating this psalm than does the Latin text.

100 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

Psalm 119/120 A Break in the Midrashic Text; An “Unknown Manuscript”; Clans and Tents Fi g u r e 3 7 As mentioned above, the main source William Braude used for his English translation of the Midrash on Psalms was an edition compiled by Salomon Buber in 1891.393 Buber’s primary sources are the first printed editions issued in Constantinople (1512) and Saloniki (1515), in addition to numerous manuscripts.394 After the commentary on Psalm 119:4, the text of the Midrash breaks off in all of the sources except the 1515 Saloniki printed version. The rest of the midrashic commentary in the Saloniki version comes from an “unknown manuscript.”395 The publisher of the Saloniki edition drew upon this “unknown manuscript” specifically for the Midrash on Psalm 119:4 to Psalm 121, and Psalm 138 to Psalm 150. For his translation of the

midrashic commentary after 119:4 Braude was dependent, for the most part, on that section of the Saloniki printed edition that came from this unknown manuscript.396 The break in the manuscript of the Midrash forms, perhaps by chance, a parallel with changes that occur in the illustrations after Psalm 118/119. Starting with Psalm 119/120 (fol. 71v) less space is set aside for the illustrations. The space suddenly becomes “significantly smaller (between 50 and 65 mm) than the normal strip allocated to the drawings at the beginning of the quire or for those in the following tenth quire.”397 Furthermore, art historians agree that a new and different artist (dubbed artist “X” or “F”) takes over the drawing for Psalms 119/120–120/121, and then, starting at 121/122, still another artist Figure 37 · Psalm 119/120, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 71v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 101

(dubbed artist “H”) completes the illustrations up through Psalm 150.398 It may be a coincidence, but, as one can observe, there is a correspondence between the break in the midrashic manuscript tradition and the stylistic and size changes present in the Utrecht Psalter, beginning with Psalm 119/120. We do not know if the change in allotted space was due to the planning by quire devised for the Psalter or was borrowed from an existing illustrated source. Nor do we know whether the smaller spatial allotments and stylistic change had anything to do with a hypothetical model based on a Hebrew text. At any rate, only two of the psalms from this point on can be illuminated uniquely by reference to the Midrash as we have it: Psalm 136/137, portraying the dwarf and the crushed thumbs (which can be explained by an insertion from the Yalkut that was included in the 1515 Saloniki Midrash), and Psalm 145/146, depicting the water skin. The psalmist, standing with his back to us in the center of the illustration, looks up at what would have been God’s hand. “In my distress I call to the Lord” (verse 1). He asks God to save him “from lying lips, from a deceitful tongue” (verse 2). The Lord’s answer is portrayed in the hands of the men holding fiery arrows with tips of “hot coals of broom-wood” (verse 4). These burning arrows are the literal representation of the punishment that awaits the lying lips and deceitful tongues of the enemy (verses 3–4).399 This part of the image accords with both the Latin and the Hebrew versions of the psalm. The rest of the illustration, however, can be fully explained only by the Hebrew text of verses 5–7. The image depicts two groups of people who “hate peace” (verse 6). One group stands at the mouth of a cave, and the other mingles among the tents at the right. The Gallican and Vulgate texts state that the psalmist dwelt only among the inhabitants of one group, cum habitantibus

Caedar, “with the inhabitants of Cedar” (verse 5). In the Hebrew text, however, two distinct groups are referenced: a group from Meshech (a northern kingdom) and a second group designated as “Kedar” (Kedar was one of the sons of Ishmael):“Woe is me, that I live with Meshech, that I dwell among the tents of Kedar” (verse 5).400 Thus the image here obviously reflects the Hebrew text, where two clans, not just one, are mentioned. Though it is clear that tents form a major part of the image, the Latin makes no mention of them: in the sentence “I have dwelt with the inhabitants of Cedar” “habitavi cum habitantibus Caedar” (verse 5 from the Utrecht Gallican/Vulgate), the word habitantibus does not suggest tents. The Hebrew, on the other hand, specifically mentions tents: “I dwell among the tents [oholei] of Kedar.” By portraying two different clans, those of Meshech and those of Kedar, as well as by specifically depicting tents, the artist reveals that he was not copying a model dependent on the Latin text. He was, rather, copying from an illustration reflective of the Hebrew text, a text that mentions two clans, as well as the tents of Kedar. DeWald suggested that the Septuagint Greek text, which does have the word for “tents,” must have been behind this image, but he did not think to consider a Hebrew model.401 Thus I propose that this image provides another piece of evidence that a late antique Hebrew illustrated manuscript of the Psalms stood behind the Utrecht Psalter.402

Psalm 136/13� The Mangled Thumbs; The Dwarf; The Lyre; The Slaughter of the Children of Israel Fi gure s 38 and 38a As mentioned above, Braude, who translated the Midrash on Psalms from Hebrew into English,

102 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

relied for his Hebrew text on the Buber edition of 1891. Buber in turn looked to the Saloniki edition of 1515 for the midrashic text on Psalm 119:4 through Psalm 150—that is, the commentaries that were missing from all manuscripts as well as from the Constantinople 1512 edition. The editors of the Saloniki 1515 edition had secured the midrashic text of 119:4–150 from an “unknown manuscript.”403 However, some of the Midrash was not present in the unknown manuscript. For those missing commentaries, the Saloniki editors relied on the Yalkut Shimoni, a compilation of commentaries on various books of the Bible, including the Psalms.404 Though the extant copies may not be older than the thirteenth century, the Yalkut incorporates stories and legends that go back much further. The midrashic commentary on Psalm 136/137 is one that ultimately depends on the Yalkut. It is one of only two psalms from Psalm 119:4 to Psalm 150 that contain motifs explicable only by reference to the midrashic “unknown manuscript” or to the Yalkut. (The other is Psalm

Figure 38 · Psalm 136/137, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 77r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

145/146.) One wonders if this is an indication that only the most well-known commentaries on this part of the book of Psalms were in circulation in the late antique milieu of the artist. At any rate, the psalm below can be elucidated by legendary material recorded in the Yalkut Shimoni, a part of the commentary that was copied into the Midrash on Psalms by the editors of the Saloniki edition in 1515. This is one of the drawings in which it is difficult to discern the details, for they are very dim. This faintness relates to the stages of execution of the drawings. For each of the illustrations there was an initial sketch that was detailed with diluted ink. Forty faint drawings (this one among them) remain in this state. Most of the other drawings were completed with dark ink.405 According to the Talmud, God endowed David with prophetic vision, so that he foresaw

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 103

Figure 38a · Psalm 136/137, detail.

the destruction of both the First and the Second Temples.406 This psalm commemorates those two destructions: the first by Nebuchadnezzar (verses 8–9), and the second by the Romans, called the Edomites (verse 7). The two scenes of destruction are faintly depicted at the left of the image. Nebuchadnezzar’s destruction of the Temple resulted in the exile of the Jerusalemites to Babylon. The first verse of the psalm evokes that exile: “By the rivers of Babylon there we sat and also wept when we remembered Zion.” The river undulates at the bottom of the image, and to the right, just above the waters, are seven Israelite musicians. “Willows” spread their branches behind and among them (verse 2).407 Five are seated, and two are standing at the head of the group. The musicians were asked to play for their captors, Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonian rulers, who are pictured with spears and shields in the bottom center. Nebuchadnezzar, with hand raised in a “speaking” gesture, asks them to “‘sing us one of the songs of Zion’” (verse 3). Their reply: “How can we sing a song of the Lord on alien soil?” The musicians explain, “On the willows . . . we hung up our lyres [kinnoroteinu]” (verses 2–4).408 The lyres are hanging from the trees in the extreme lower right.

Two motifs in this illustration are puzzling and cannot be explained by either the Latin or the Hebrew text of the psalm. In the bottom center, the head musician, center right, is confronting Nebuchadnezzar (fig. 38a). The Israelite musician holds up his right hand; his four fingers are spread out, and his thumb, sticking up, is large and misshapen. It is true that awkwardly rendered fingers occur elsewhere in the Utrecht illustrations; however, here the large, awkward thumb is emphasized. This detail is explained in the Jewish commentary. Nebuchadnezzar called the musicians to play and said, “‘Get yourselves ready! I desire that . . . you stand up and strike your harps before me. . . . ’ So all the Levites stood up, and with great self-command put their thumbs into their mouths and mangled them.” The commentary then notes that the Israelites did not reply, “‘We shall not sing,’ but How shall we sing? (Ps. 137:4), and then showing their thumbs, said: ‘We were manacled, and our thumbs are crushed.’”409 Thus the Jewish commentary explains the head musician’s grotesquely large thumb. They had outwitted their captors by self-mutilation.410 Another seemingly inexplicable detail is the dwarflike figure in the bottom center of the image (fig. 38a). It is not referenced in the Latin or Hebrew texts, nor by the church fathers. The Midrash, however, in its discussion of the encounter between Nebuchadnezzar and the Israelite musician, makes an analogy between Nebuchadnezzar and a dwarf. When asked to play for Nebuchadnezzar, “the Levites looked at one another and said: ‘Is it not grievous enough for us that we brought about the destruction of His Temple? Must we now stand to strike up a song for the pleasure of this dwarf?’”411 In fact the analogy between Nebuchadnezzar and a dwarf does not reflect just the Midrash (and in this case the Yalkut); the tradition of

104 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

Nebuchadnezzar’s being portrayed as a dwarf is frequently found in rabbinic literature, where Nebuchadnezzar is called nanas, the Hebrew for “dwarf.”412 Another reference to the dwarflike Nebuchadnezzar is found, for instance, in Pesikta de-Rab Kahana: “R. Tanhum bar Hanila’i said, . . . the Holy One complains about the wicked Nebuchadnezzar. Like a man who says to his fellow, ‘See what So-and-So, may his bones be ground up, has done to me!’ so, too, the Holy One says: See what the dwarf of Babylon has done to Me!”413 So the representation of Nebuchadnezzar as a dwarf made its way into the center of this illustration, though the Carolingian artist likely had no idea why the grotesque little figure appeared in the model he was copying. In this psalm we have another instance where one of the Hebrew words offers more specificity than does the Latin. In the Hebrew, the kind of musical instrument played by the Levites is the kinor, and it is translated as “lyre.”414 “We hung up our lyres [kinnoroteinu].” The instruments mentioned in the Latin text are organa nostra: In salicibus in medio ejus suspendimus organa nostra. Organa nostra is translated as “our musical instruments,” and can be “wind organs” or “voice organs,” but they are not specifically “lyres” as are the kinnoroteinu.415 As is evident, however, the image unambiguously displays a lyre.416 Once again the specificity of the Hebrew text corresponds with the motif in the illustration of the Utrecht Psalter. Just above the seated musicians is another motif that may be explained by Jewish commentary. After Nebuchadnezzar realized what the musicians had done, “he rose up and in slaughter of the children of Israel he heaped multitudes upon multitudes. Nevertheless, though many of them were slain, there was gladness among

the Levites, because they had not sung for the pleasure of an alien god.”417 Over the bodies of the musicians are men who are striking spears into the bent backs of their victims. They may be those Nebuchadnezzar sought to slaughter, heaping “multitudes upon multitudes.”418 I suggest that the motifs discussed above reflect more convincingly the Hebrew text and the midrashic commentary than they do the Latin. Thus the imagery in this psalm supports the argument that the Hebrew text and the Midrash stood behind the motifs copied into the Utrecht Psalter.

Psalm 138/139 The Hebrew Word ʿAreikha Can Mean “Cities” as Well as “Enemies” Fi gure 39 I will argue that the illustration of Psalm 138/139 provides another instance where modern translators of the Hebrew have made a choice to translate a Hebrew word with one specific meaning, but where the word also carries another meaning, one that accords with the illustration in the Utrecht Psalter and that, therefore, could have been in a Jewish model. Verse 20 in the Vulgate and Gallican texts has been translated using the word for “cities”: Accipient in vanitate civitates tuas, “They shall receive thy cities in vain.” And indeed, two tiny cities are illustrated in the top left and right of the image. Most modern translators of the Hebrew give a different reading for that phrase: “Your enemies who extol You in vain.”419 Most scholars translate the Hebrew word ʿareikha as “your enemies.” If “enemies” were the only translation of the Hebrew, the two cities on either side of this image would not be reflective of a Hebrew text, nor therefore of a Jewish illustrated manuscript. However, Mitchell Dahood says that a much-contested

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 105

Figure 39 · Psalm 138/139, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 78r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

reading of the Masoretic text could give us “cities,” and that the word ʿareikha could thus be translated as “your cities.”420 Furthermore, we learn from the editor of the Targum that “while the Hebrew ʿryk “would normally mean ‘your cities,’ it is very difficult here.”421 Since the Hebrew word ʿareikha carries the meaning “your cities” as well as “your enemies,” a Jewish model might also have displayed two cities, just as a model based on a Latin text could have. Hence the inclusion of the two cities does not preclude the existence of a Hebrew model for this image. All the other motifs reflect both the Latin and the Hebrew versions. The psalmist stands in the center with his arm raised toward what would have been the hand of God, top center. We see his profile, but his back is to us: “Back and front you fashioned me” (verse 5). The

“wings of dawn” protrude from his head: “Were I to take up wings of dawn” (verse 9). Below is a reclining woman in a kind of cave with a baby on her right arm: “You fashioned me in my mother’s womb” (verse 13), and “I was knit together in the nethermost earth” (verse 15). To the psalmist’s right is a sarcophagus (verse 2). “You know my sitting down and my rising up.” In his right hand the psalmist holds a measuring cord, reflecting verse 3, which can be translated “Thou measurest [zerita] my downsitting and my uprising.”422 The psalmist’s left hand is on his “kidneys” (khilyotai), a word that, when used in this context, refers to the mind or that faculty that initiates the thought process (verse 13). Verse 8 tells us, “If I ascend to heaven, You are there,” and indeed the hand of God would have been at the top of the illustration, in heaven. In God’s hand would have been the scroll with writing on it: “In Your book all are recorded” (verse 16). Kings who flank the central hill hold crowns and banners. They are the “leaders” referenced

106 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

in verse 17b. Soldiers with spears stand to their sides. Below them the wicked are being destroyed (verses 19–22). In the lower left is Belial, representing the netherworld. His hand grasps a figure that he is moving toward his open mouth. This motif is inspired by verse 8b, in which the psalmist references making his bed “in the Lower World.” The six angels at the top would have flanked the hand of God. The personified Sun and Moon are to the left and right (verses 11 and 12). The sea referenced in verse 9 frames the bottom part of the image.423

Psalm 140/141 Plowman Breaking Up the Soil with His Plowshare Fi g u r es 4 0 and 4 0a In the lower right of this image is a plowman with his plowshare breaking up the soil (fig. 40a). The motif is supposed to reflect verse 7

Figure 40 · Psalm 140/141, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 79r. Photo: Utrecht University Library. Figure 40a · Psalm 140/141, detail.

in the Latin: crassitudo terrae erupta est super terram. As Panofsky has pointed out, the Latin for that verse is nearly unintelligible. The editors of the annotated online edition translate the Latin “as when the thickness of the earth

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 107

is broken up upon the ground.”424 Panofsky notes that Jerome’s Hebraeos is clearer and gives a reading closer to what the image displays, a plowman: Sicut agricola cum scindit terram, “As when a farmer [or tiller] splits the earth.”425 The Hebrew evokes a similar image, again more reflective of the motif in the illustration: “Like one who plows [palaḥ] and breaks open [bakaʿ] the soil.”426 The Aramaic Targum, however, is even closer to the image: “Like a man who tills and cleaves open the earth with a plowshare.” The words “with a plowshare” are an addition to the Masoretic text.427 Hence, it is the Aramaic that gives us the specific image seen on the right: the plowman guiding the oxen drawing the plowshare that splits the soil. Once again it is not the Latin, but the texts arising in the Jewish milieu, that more accurately accord with the motif in the Utrecht Psalter. The rest of the motifs reflect both the Latin and the Hebrew texts. On the left within the Temple portal stands the psalmist, his hand raised to his mouth, a gesture reflecting verse 3: “Post a sentry for my mouth, Lord, a guard at the door of my lips.” Holding a censer, the psalmist is beseeching the Lord, who would have been represented by a hand extending down from heaven:428 “Take my prayer as an offering of incense, my upraised hands as an evening sacrifice” (verse 2). The “evening” is reflected in the moon and stars in the upper right. “Let the righteous man strike me in loyalty, let him reprove me; let my head not refuse such choice oil” (verse 3). In the center, a man with a whip stands ready to reprove the psalmist. In a second image, as a crowned king, the psalmist holds up an oil horn in his right hand. He asks to be protected from the snares laid for him by those who practice iniquity. Two demons enclose figures in the large net in the center of the image (verses 9 and 10). The “entrance to the pit” evoked in

verse 7b is depicted in the lower left. Belial is there, ready to devour the wicked.

Psalm 145/146 The Water Skin Fi gure 41 a nd Plat e 1 8 Hovering in the space behind the back of the angel in the extreme upper right is a very shadowy face looking toward the left. One can make out the eyes, and, very indistinctly, a nose and a frowning mouth (pl. 18).429 The psalm itself provides no explanation for this face, though such a face may very well have been in the model, since it is referenced in the Midrash.430 Verse 4 of the psalm reads: “[Mortal man’s] breath departs; he returns to the dust; on that day his plans come to nothing.” In setting forth its interpretation of this verse the Midrash presents a “parable of a water-skin [nod].”431 “When it is blown full of air and is standing upright, he who sees it from afar is afraid of it, wondering what kind of thing it is. But what happens? As he comes near it he sees that it is only a water-skin; and when he touches it, and it falls down, and the air which filled it escapes, the man says, ‘Was I afraid of this? There was nothing to it except the air which made it stand upright.’”432 This ghostly “water-skin” that only air could make stand upright is meant to be analogous to the deceased human being, who when “his breath departs he returns to the dust,” and then “all his thoughts perish” (Ps. 146:4). The Midrash expounds, “Man stands upright only because he has breath. As soon as his breath escapes, he becomes dust.” Without warning, man’s life breath can depart, and he becomes an inanimate mass of flesh. This spectral presence behind the angel is a fitting analogue for the idea that, as the Midrash says, quoting from

108 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

Isaiah 40:6, “all flesh is nothing.”433 Man cannot assure salvation for himself because he cannot imprison his own life-spirit. All other motifs can be understood given the Hebrew or the Latin text. The psalmist in the upper left points down to God’s three angels, who are ready to throw spears and battle-axes at the wicked (verses 9). A table is set to feed the hungry to whom God will give bread (verse 7). In the lower center two nobles sit upon a throne. The one on the right orders an execution, and the other looks at the fallen wicked (verse 3). In the top right, men with crutches approach God’s angel for healing (verse 8). The angel also touches the eyes of a blind man to give him sight (verse 8). In the extreme lower right, widows and orphans raise their hands toward the angel (verse 9). To the right of the table stand the righteous, lifting their arms toward the psalmist (verse 8). God has made the heaven and earth, as well as the sea, at the bottom, and all the fish and water creatures that are in it (verse 6).

Figure 41 · Psalm 145/146, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 81v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Psalm 150 Dancing in Praise of the Lord; The Water Organ Fi gure s 42 and 42a a nd Plat es 1 9 and 1 9a The book of Psalms concludes with a rousing “Hallelujah,” “Praise God,” sung at the beginning of each verse. The musical instruments cited in verses 3–5 are all pictured. They include the clarions/trumpets (verse 3),434 the nevel/harp or lute, the kinor/harp, the tof/timbrel, the minnim/stringed instrument, and the ugav, which is translated as “pipe” or “pipes.”435 It has not yet been noted that both the Latin and the Hebrew texts tell us that those praising God are said to be dancing (verse 4). And

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 109

Figure 42 · Psalm 150, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), fol. 83r. Photo: Utrecht University Library. Figure 42a · Psalm 150, detail.

indeed, four figures, one in each group, cross their legs in what is understood in medieval iconography as a dancing position. In Hebrew the word maḥol means “a dance,” and the Aramaic word can also mean “dances.” Though the Latin word chorus in verse 4 is not usually translated as “dance”—the editors of the online Psalter translate it as “choir”—it very well could mean “dance”: Laudate eum in choro, “Praise him in dance” (verse 4).436 So the four figures with legs crossed and, in two cases, with hands spread

to the sides reflect the Latin, the Hebrew, and the Aramaic texts that include dancing as a way to praise the Lord. The most striking part of the image is the detailed water organ in the center (fig. 42a).437 During the Carolingian period, Pippin received an organ as a gift from the Byzantine emperor, and in 812 another organ was brought to the court of Aix-la-Chapelle. Fourteen years later, an organ was built at Aix-la-Chapelle for Louis the Pious.438 Those were all pneumatic organs,

110 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

operated with bellows and air bags, and it is probable that the artists at Hauteville knew of them. However, the pneumatic organ is not what is represented here. As Willi Apel has demonstrated, and as I will discuss below, the instrument in the Utrecht image is the hydraulis, specifically a water organ, a type that was no longer in use after the fifth century.439 The hydraulis is the very type of organ mentioned in Psalm 150:4b in the Targum of Psalms, the Aramaic translation that was used by Jews in the Galilee in the early centuries CE , the time and place where I hypothesize the model for the Utrecht Psalter was created.440 In the Aramaic version we read: “Praise Him with water-organs and pipes”(verse 4b). The translator, David M. Stec, tells us that the Aramaic for “water organs” is hrdwblyn, a loanword from the Greek hudraulis.441 The “water organ,” or hydraulis, is to be differentiated from the later pneumatic organ, which is worked by bellows and had a “bag” for the air.442 The fact that, in the Aramaic text, God is to be praised with a hrdwblyn, a “water organ,” means that Aramaic-speaking Jews of late antiquity knew this type of organ and would have understood the specific reference to it in Psalm 150:4.443 Since a specific “water organ” is both illustrated in the Utrecht Psalter and mentioned in connection with this verse in the Targum, the model for this instrument could very well have been present in a late antique Jewish manuscript. The hydraulis is the oldest type of organ. It is described in detail by Hero of Alexandria (ca. third century BCE ) and by Vitruvius (ca. 14 BCE ). It has several essential parts, just as we see in the illustration to Psalm 150: the organ pipes of varying heights that render different pitches, the levers worked by the men to supply the air, and the keys by which the air is admitted or stopped.444 In the Utrecht image a double

water organ is pictured. In the center of the instrument are two large cisterns. Not pictured here, but inside each of them, would have been what one can envision as a large “upside-down bucket.” The principle that underlies the workings of the water organ is that when an upsidedown bucket is pushed down into water, it retains its air, and that air is under pressure. The water organ in the picture would have worked in that way. Water would have been placed in the bottom half of the large cistern. The “upsidedown” bucket, retaining its air, would have been “pushed into” the water in the cistern. As more air was forced into the bucket through pumping, the water rose on the sides of the cistern, and that water compressed the air above it. In the image, the men at the sides are pumping air into the flanking cylinders that are connected via pipes to the buckets in the large cisterns. (A series of valves regulated the flow.) From the buckets the air is forced into pipes that lead from the top of the buckets to a chest, above which are the keys and the organ pipes. When the keys are depressed, they open valves that allow air to flow into the organ pipes. The continuous pumping of air into the flanking cylinders by the men at the sides would have kept the air pressure more or less consistent, even when the pump was breathing in.445 Hero of Alexandria tells us that the keys of the hydraulis could easily be depressed and would automatically return to their normal position by means of springs.446 In the Utrecht drawing the musician on the right has both hands on the keys, and the one on the left has one hand on the keys, while with his right hand he directs those who work the pump levers. A number of coins, mosaics, gems, and clay sculptures from the ancient world display the hydraulis.447 The clearest representations are found on a mosaic from the Roman villa in

Analysis of Pictorial Motifs · 111

Nennig, Germany, and in a clay model in the British Museum (pls. 19 and 19a).448 These representations accord with the ancient accounts of the hydraulis by showing the pipes of varying lengths, the lateral cylindrical containers, and, in the mosaic, the large central cistern that held the water—all features present in the Utrecht drawing. As mentioned, the Utrecht image actually shows a double hydraulic organ, with two large cisterns front and center, two sets of cylindrical pumps at the sides, and two sets of pipes above. The four men at the sides are working the pumps and trying to maintain the high air pressure necessary for the two musicians at the keyboard to achieve an adequate sound. The fourth-century poetry of Publilius Optatianus Porphyrius alludes to some of these features: the “keys by which the hand of the player opens or closes the wind conduits”; “the hidden water [inside the central cisterns] agitated by the onrushing air”; and the “concerted efforts of several youths” working at the pumps.449 Claudius Claudianus (365–408) describes the “beam-like lever [that] rouses to song the laboring waters from the depth.”450 The “beam-like” levers are in the hands of the “youths.” The hydraulis remained in use right through the fifth century. By then the pneumatic organ, with its bellows, had appeared and eventually took over. Bellows and bags replaced the hydraulic “wind” mechanisms within the water organ that had been activated by the levers in the hands of the “youths.”451 Bellows are not mentioned in the ancient texts describing the hydraulis, nor are they depicted in the ancient imagery. And as we can see, bellows are not part of the motif as illustrated in the Utrecht Psalter. The instrument illustrating Psalm 150, as Apel affirms, is a water organ.452 Apel places this type of organ in the East (Byzantium). On the basis of the appearance of

112 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

this hydraulis in the Utrecht Psalter, he judges that the model for the illustration was created in about the fifth or sixth century.453 This opinion accords well with my hypothesis: that the model for this motif could be found in a manuscript executed in the Galilee during the late antique period. The fact that this water organ illustrates verse 4b of the Aramaic with such specificity (unlike the more general term organo in the Latin) supports the idea that the model could have been created in a Jewish milieu. The presence of the water organ as the dominant image in this final psalm is fitting. The last verse reads, “Let all that hath breath praise the Lord.” The water organ is something that literally “has breath,” as do the trumpets, the four personified winds in the upper corners, and indeed the human beings. So in addition to the illustration depicting the figures, winds, and instruments praising the Lord, we also have the added symbolism of the “breath” in the pipes of the water organ creating music that praises the Lord. This final image corresponds literally and symbolically to the last verse of the Psalter, “Let all that hath breath praise the Lord. Hallelujah.”

Plates 1a and 1b · Ezekiel’s vision of national life restored, showing personification of ruaḥ, and Ezekiel and the dismembered having been reconstituted. Wall paintings, Dura Europos synagogue. Photo: Yale University Art Gallery, scanned color image from Carl Hermann Kraeling, The Synagogue, The Excavations at Dura Europos, Final Report, 8.1 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1956).

Plate 2 · Sun god in zodiac wheel with four seasons. Mosaic, Hammat Tiberias synagogue. Photo: www.BibleLandPictures.com / Alamy Stock Photo. Plate 2a · Virgo sign holding flaming torch. Detail of zodiac mosaic, Hammat Tiberias synagogue. Photo courtesy of the Center for Jewish Art, Hebrew University of Jerusalem.

Plate 2b · Sun god. Detail of zodiac mosaic, Hammat Tiberias synagogue. Photo courtesy of the Center for Jewish Art, Hebrew University of Jerusalem.

Plate 2c · Personification of spring. Detail of zodiac mosaic, Hammat Tiberias synagogue. Photo courtesy of the Center for Jewish Art, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Plate 2d · Libra sign. Detail of zodiac mosaic, Hammat Tiberias synagogue. Photo courtesy of the Center for Jewish Art, Hebrew University of Jerusalem.

Plate 2e · Panel with Jewish symbols. Mosaic, Hammat Tiberias synagogue. Photo courtesy of the Center for Jewish Art, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Plate 3 · Sun riding in a chariot. Mosaic, Sepphoris synagogue. Courtesy of Professor Zeev Weiss, The Sepphoris Excavations, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron.

Plate 3a · Scorpio sign. Mosaic, Sepphoris synagogue. Courtesy of Professor Zeev Weiss, The Sepphoris Excavations, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron. Plate 3b · Servants in the “Binding of Isaac” panel. Mosaic, Sepphoris synagogue. Courtesy of Professor Zeev Weiss, The Sepphoris Excavations, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron. Plate 4 · Christ as sun god. Mosaic, tomb of the Julii beneath St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, Rome. Photo: Scala / Art Resource, New York.

Plate 5 · River god on a water beast. Mosaic, House of Leontis, Beth Shean, Israel Museum of Jerusalem. Photo courtesy of the Israel Antiquities Authority.

Plate 5a (above) · Odysseus and a siren riding an ichthyocentaur. Mosaic, House of Leontis, Beth Shean, Israel Museum of Jerusalem. Photo courtesy of the Israel Antiquities Authority. Plate 5b (right, above) · Ichthyocentaur. Detail, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), Psalm 148, fol. 82v. Photo: Utrecht University Library. Plate 5c (right, below) · River god on a water beast. Detail, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteits­ bibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), Psalm 97/98, fol. 56v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Plate 6 · Zeus in the guise of a swan approaching Leda. Marble sarcophagus end, catacombs of Beth Sheʿarim. Photo: Wikimedia Commons / Talmoryair, licensed under CC BY 3.0. Plate 7 · Consecration of the Temple. Wall painting, Dura Europos synagogue. Photo: Yale University Art Gallery, scanned color image from Kraeling, The Synagogue.

Plate 8 (left) · King David raised up on a shield. Paris Psalter (Bibliothèque nationale de France, Gr. 139), fol. 6v. Photo: gallica.bnf.fr / BnF. Plate 10 (below) · Virgo/Betulah positioned horizontally at the bottom of the zodiac wheel. Detail, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), Psalm 64/65, fol. 36r. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Plate 9 (right) · Egypt in the guise of Terra or Earth Mother. Mosaic, Nile Festival Building, Sepphoris. Courtesy of Professor Zeev Weiss, The Sepphoris Excavations, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron.

Plate 11 (top) · “Dionysiac Procession.” Mosaic, House of Dionysos, Sepphoris. Courtesy of Professor Zeev Weiss, The Sepphoris Excavations, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron. Plate 12 (middle) · Nilotic scenes that replaced the Dionysiac mosaic. Mosaic, House of Dionysos, Sepphoris. Courtesy of Professor Zeev Weiss, The Sepphoris Excavations, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron. Plate 12a (left) · Female head among acanthus leaves. Mosaic, House of Dionysos, Sepphoris. Courtesy of Professor Zeev Weiss, The Sepphoris Excavations, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron.

Plate 13 · Hebrews departing from Egypt. Wall painting, Dura Europos synagogue. Photo: Yale University Art Gallery, scanned color image from Kraeling, The Synagogue.

Plate 14 · Pharaoh’s drowning soldiers. Wall painting, Dura Europos synagogue. Photo: Yale University Art Gallery, scanned color image from Kraeling, The Synagogue.

Plate 15 · Pharaoh’s army cast into the sea. Mosaic, Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue. Courtesy of Dr. Uzi Leibner, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron.

Plate 15a · Building of the Tower of Babel. Mosaic, Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue. Courtesy of Dr. Uzi Leibner, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron.

Plate 15b · Samson fighting the Philistines. Mosaic, Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue. Courtesy of Dr. Uzi Leibner, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron. Plate 15c · Pharaoh’s army cast into the sea, detail: fish. Mosaic, Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue. Courtesy of Dr. Uzi Leibner, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Photo: Gabi Laron.

Plate 16 (opposite, above) · Meeting of the commander and the priest. Mosaic, Huqoq synagogue. Courtesy of Professor Jodi Magness, The Excavation of Huqoq. Photo: Jim Haberman. Plate 16a (opposite, below left) · Commander’s face. Detail of the commander and the priest mosaic, Huqoq synagogue. Courtesy of Professor Jodi Magness, The Excavation of Huqoq. Photo: Jim Haberman. Plate 16b (opposite, middle right) · Drowning of Pharaoh’s soldiers, detail: fish. Mosaic, Huqoq synagogue. Courtesy of Professor Jodi Magness, The Excavation of Huqoq. Photo: Jim Haberman. Plate 16c (opposite, below right) · Fish. Detail, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), Psalm 138/139, fol. 78r. Photo: Utrecht University Library. Plate 17 (right, above) · Exodus from Egypt, detail: portal of Egypt. Wall painting, Dura Europos synagogue. Photo: Yale University Art Gallery, scanned color image from Kraeling, The Synagogue. Plate 18 (right, below) · Face on water skin, looking toward the left. Detail, Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32), Psalm 145/146, fol. 81v. Photo: Utrecht University Library.

Plate 19 · Water organist and horn player. Gladiator mosaic, Roman villa in Nennig, Germany. Photo: Wikimedia Commons / Carole Raddato, Frankfurt, Germany, licensed under CC BY ­SA 2.0. Plate 19a · Man playing a water organ. Roman terra­ cotta lamp, ca. 175–250. British Museum, 1965, 1011.1. Ancient History Encyclopedia. Photo: James Lloyd, licensed under BY ­NC ­SA 3.0.

Chapter 3

Late Antique Galilee The Context for As set forth in the previous chapters, I have proposed that the illustrations in the Utrecht Psalter were inspired by late antique drawings reflecting the original Hebrew text rather than the Latin version of the Psalms. In some instances, the illustrations are in accord with Jewish legends in the Midrash or in other Jewish commentary. Furthermore, a number of the motifs in the Psalter reflect those in Jewish art. The inclusion of numerous classical elements such as personifications and three-dimensional architectural structures meant that the artist or artists had to have been exposed to classical imagery. Where could such an illustrated version of the Psalms have been created? Where in the late antique Jewish world did the economic, religious, cultural, and artistic environment prevail that could have given rise to such lively, classically inspired drawings? I propose that the region is the Galilee, the place of the highest concentration of Jews in late Roman Palestine. In the Galilee one can find mosaics and sculpture exhibiting both the dynamic Hellenistic style and the mythological iconography characteristic of the Utrecht Psalter. The region also was home to the type of Roman architecture present in the imagery of the ninth-century manuscript. Hence I will argue that it is most likely that an illustrated Hebrew version of the Psalms stemmed from late antique Galilee.

the Creation of the Model for the Utrecht Psalter Illustrations

In the iconographic analyses of the preceding chapters we have seen that several motifs in the Galilean synagogue pavements provide close parallels to the Utrecht drawings. In the subsequent chapter on style I will show that the “Hellenistic” treatment of the figures, structures, and landscape in the Psalter is likewise mirrored in some of those mosaics. Selected pieces of fragmentary Galilean sculpture also display a stylistic affinity with the Utrecht imagery. It can likewise be demonstrated that coinage found in the Galilean cities where Jews lived exhibits the kinds of Greco-Roman figures appearing in the Psalter. We know from Talmudic and midrashic texts that the images of those gods and personifications could be found in the sculpture of the Galilean cities, since some rabbis accepted the presence of pagan statues, while others decried them. Thus it is important to explore the Galilean milieu of late antiquity, a period that in Jewish historiography is called the Talmudic age. I will show how the Galilean economic, cultural, religious, and artistic milieu could have provided the conditions necessary for the creation of the drawings that inspired the Carolingian artists. Recent archaeological discoveries, as well as a reevaluation of certain texts, have highlighted the flourishing economic environment of late antique Galilee.1 Until the last third of the twentieth century, scholars viewed Jewish life in late antique Palestine as grim. It had been assumed that the period witnessed a kind of recession into a Dark Age, an age of economic hardship, loss of population, the breakup of communal institutions, and diminished political status.2 This was not, however, the actual state of affairs. Material remains, as well as the Cairo Genizah fragments, now reveal that the Galilean Jewish communities were far from being in an impoverished state.3 On the contrary, they experienced growth, prosperity, and stability, all of which contributed to

114 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

a rich artistic environment as well as to renewed religious creativity.4 In the major Galilean cities one could find impressive architectural structures—pagan, Christian, and Jewish. Remains of Roman theaters and public buildings have been uncovered.5 There was a substantial community of followers of Jesus in Palestine from the end of the first century on, and it was strengthened when new pilgrims arrived during the age of Constantine. Under the rule of the Christian emperors numerous churches and monasteries sprang up.6 Constantine and later emperors assumed patronage of some of these churches, especially when they were constructed at Christian holy sites. This Christian investment in building at holy places was one of the initiatives that bolstered the local economy.7 Synagogue construction likewise flourished. Some fifty synagogues dating from the third to the fifth century have been discovered throughout the Galilee.8 Given the building activities of wealthy rural landholders, urban dwellers, and the Christian emperors, one can even speak of a building spurt in the Galilee, a spurt in which the Jewish community participated.9 With the ongoing construction of synagogues and churches, architects, builders, designers, and craftsmen were put to work, as were those skilled in other services, from toolmaking to stonecutting. The stonecutters would hew ashlar masonry, of course, but they were also needed to cut stone tesserae for the numerous mosaic pavements. All of this economic activity made the first part of the fourth century a period of particularly vibrant growth—though there was a disruption in the middle of the century, perhaps because of the earthquake in 363 and the Gallus revolt of 351–52.10 As in other areas of Roman Palestine, the wealth of the Galilee was based on landholdings. Though free agricultural laborers worked much

of the countryside, significant parts of the land were organized into large domains and imperial estates.11 Both Jews and Christian, as well as pagans, were estate holders. Sharecroppers and slaves worked the larger holdings under the eyes of an overseer. The products went to the owner, commonly referred to as the master. Usually the villa of the master was in the center of the estate, but he and his family frequently had a house in one of the urban centers as well.12 In addition to the growing wealth of the master and urban dwellers, free agricultural laborers also prospered. As the Galilee became more densely populated, there was an increased incentive for farmers to take advantage of the fertility of their holdings and engage in more intensive cultivation.13 Nonagricultural branches of production and employment also flourished. Artisans and shops were common in rural settlements, and from the second through the fourth century Palestinian villages thrived. The prosperity in the countryside is evinced by the elaborate decoration of rural synagogues, some with splendid mosaics, as exemplified by the figurative pavements uncovered at Khirbet Wadi Hamam and Huqoq (pls. 15, 15a, 15b, 15c and 16, 16a, 16b).14 In sum, during the late antique period, in addition to the flourishing of the building trades, the Galilee had an effective system of agriculture and commerce—an economy capable of marketing the produce of the land and providing a regular supply of required commodities.15 This rich agricultural hinterland was connected to the cities through interurban roads channeling products and resources from the villages to the city market.16 Much of the wealth accrued to landowners who had luxurious private houses in the urban centers, some of which were decorated with noteworthy mosaic pavements. For our purposes, the two most important cities in late Roman Galilee were Tiberias and

Sepphoris. Both provide illuminating portraits of Roman urban centers. Although from the third through the fifth century there was an increased Christian presence in the region, both cities were major religious and cultural centers for Jews as well.17 As we learn from archaeological and literary sources, both Tiberias and Sepphoris were arranged in a grid plan, as were so many other Roman cities.18 Colonnades and shops flanked the central streets, and bathhouses gave onto the main thoroughfares. Private dwellings lined the roadways. Roman temples, theaters, and marketplaces were part of the architectural ambiance, and some remains have been identified as possible libraries or archives.19 Many of the buildings were adorned with classical relief sculpture, and three-dimensional statuary decorated facades, fountains, and arches.20 What is important for our purposes is that in both Tiberias and Sepphoris we find evidence of an ample Jewish population. Several renowned Jewish sages lived in the Galilee during this period. They had settled there with a view to participating in the rabbinic academies of Tiberias and Sepphoris.21 It was there that, during the Talmudic age, a rich variety of Jewish religious texts were produced: the Mishnah, the Tosefta, the Talmud, and the Midrashim. These writings, along with a number of newly uncovered synagogues, suggest that a vibrant Jewish religious life existed in the Galilee in late antiquity.22 Some of the dwellings in Sepphoris had ritual baths, a probable indication that the inhabitants were Jews.23 In Sepphoris over a hundred chalkstone vessels were uncovered. Chalkstone vessels are thought to have been impervious to defiling agents that could have rendered ceramic vessels unusable according to Jewish custom.24 Numerous synagogues were built, some of them decorated with classical figurative motifs. The synagogues such as those at Hammat Tiberias

Late Antique Galilee · 115

and Sepphoris display imagery akin to that in the Utrecht Psalter: the Temple and an altar, the zodiac wheel and the zodiac figure of Sukkoth, the sun god Helios in a chariot, and the personified seasons (figs. 1, 23, 24, 24a, 26, and 26a and pls. 2, 2a, 2c, and 2e). And, as we will discover, the striking Hellenistic style exhibited in the Hammat Tiberias mosaic (and, to a lesser extent, in the Sepphoris pavement) has certain features in common with the style of the drawings of the Carolingian manuscript.25 Thus it is important to understand the urban milieu surrounding the creation of those “Hellenistic” synagogue pavements. Though limited excavation has been done in Tiberias, literary sources reveal that it was quite prosperous in late antiquity.26 The city had been founded as Herod Antipas’s capital around 18 or 19 CE . It was probably not until 54 CE that it officially became a Jewish polis, and it remained the capital of Galilee until 61 CE .27 With the suppression of the Bar Kokhba revolt (ca. 132– ca. 135 CE ), R. Simeon bar Yohai (mid-second century CE ) decreed that Tiberias was open to settlement, and a mass migration of Jews from Judea to Galilee began. Under the rule of the Severans (193–235), the city walls were rebuilt, and Tiberias flourished.28 Though Tiberias had many pagan and Christian inhabitants, from the third through the fifth century the city was a kind of spiritual capital for Jews—the center of Jewish life in Palestine—and for the diaspora as well.29 Jewish study houses and institutions of higher learning were established within its walls. From the third through the early fifth century, Tiberias could boast that it had the main rabbinic academy of Palestine. The Palestinian Talmud was compiled there in ca. 420.30 According to textual sources some twelve or thirteen synagogues were located in Tiberias, although only three have been

116 · h eb re w ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

uncovered.31 Tiberias likewise became the official residence of the patriarchs, whom we will discuss below. In the first century BCE , the Hammat settlement, which had grown up around a group of hot springs, existed as a separate entity from Tiberias. By the time of Josephus, however, Hammat and Tiberias were one city, though they had separate walls of fortification.32 From the first century CE on, it is difficult to differentiate between them. Though the Gallus revolt of 351–52 and two earthquakes (363 and 408) caused some damage, Hammat Tiberias continued to flourish. The city is said to have had many monumental buildings, as in any Hellenistic polis, but few have been uncovered.33 One fortunate discovery, however, is the fourth-century synagogue of Hammat Tiberias. Adorning the floor in the nave is a remarkable example of mosaic art, a pavement considered to be the most elegant and “Hellenized” in the ancient Jewish world (pls. 2–2e).34 The mosaic consists of three panels. The southernmost panel displays the sacred architectural facade of the Temple with a curtain draped in front of it (pl. 2e). Flanking it are the menorah and ritual objects: incense shovels, the palm branch (lulav), citrus fruit (ethrog), and the shofar. The central panel is the most striking (pl. 2). Busts of women representing the seasons occupy the angles of an enclosing square. Within the square is the representation of the zodiac wheel, and at its center is the sun god Helios riding his chariot. Rays of light emanate from his head.35 In the fourth century this figure was a widely represented symbol of the Sol Invictus as seen on Roman mosaics and coins. Both the seasons and the zodiac signs are labeled with Hebrew letters. The striking classical components of this synagogue pavement—the zodiac wheel, the sun god, and the seasons—are all depicted in various

ways in the Utrecht Psalter.36 Their appearance in the Hammat Tiberias pavement and in other synagogue mosaics demonstrates that these classical motifs were very much a part of the Jewish repertoire of imagery. Lions flank a square divided into nine parts at the entrance to the synagogue. Within the squares are dedicatory inscriptions that identify the patrons responsible for financing the building’s construction and decoration. They were among the wealthy and acculturated Jews of the city, several of whom held important positions in the synagogue or community.37 These patrons have common Greek and Latin names. The name of Severus is mentioned more than any of the others, once in an inscription on the east side of the synagogue and again on the entrance panel, where his name fills two of the squares.38 This repetition accords him significant prominence and leads to the conclusion that he was an important donor. He is identified as “a disciple [or ‘protégé’ or ‘pupil’] of the Illustrious Patriarchs.”39 Severus and the other wealthy patrons obviously had no problem with the pagan and secular motifs present in this mosaic. Nor did they in any way shun the “Hellenistic” style. As I will discuss in the next chapter, on style, this mosaic displays some of the highest artistic standards of the fourth century. The figures are naturalistically rendered, and their three-dimensionality is created through the use of appropriate light and dark tesserae. Very few dark outlines define the forms. This “Hellenistic” style, as well as the classical iconography, represents a conscious choice on the part of the patrons. Furthermore, these wealthy Jews supported the creation of a mosaic containing the image of the pagan sun god, Helios. These patrons were very much a part of the Hellenistic culture that surrounded them, and were not reluctant to participate in

it.40 I would argue that one such patron could likewise have supported the creation of an illustrated Hebrew version of the Psalms, a version containing classical motifs and drawn in a Hellenistic style. I have proposed that such late antique drawings based on a Hebrew text of the Psalms could have been the model, or been related to the model, used by the artists who created the Utrecht Psalter. Wealthy Jewish patrons likewise lived in late antique Sepphoris, a city that was at the crossroads of lower Galilee, connecting the coastal city of Akko with the fertile Jezreel and BethShean valleys.41 As such, Sepphoris had both strategic and economic importance. The city had been restored by Herod Antipas (4 BCE –39 CE ), who was then the ruler of Galilee. According to Josephus, during the First Jewish-Roman War (66–73 CE ), Sepphoris remained at peace with the Romans. A garrison was built there, and the population of Sepphoris “received Vespasian, the Roman general, very kindly, and readily promised that they would assist him against their own countrymen,” which they did.42 Apparently the Sepphoreans were the only people of Galilee who displayed those friendly sentiments toward the conquerors.43 Because of its submission to Rome, Sepphoris received favors from the imperial regime at the expense of Tiberias. The Romans no longer allowed Tiberias to maintain a royal bank and archives. These were dissolved, and the royal bank and archives of Sepphoris assumed expanded jurisdiction.44 After the Bar Kokhba revolt the Jewish population of Sepphoris increased as significant numbers of Judeans migrated into the Galilee.45 As a rabbinic center, Sepphoris attracted sages from throughout the land, scholars who would make important contributions to Jewish literature. The Talmud tells us that Roman Sepphoris had eighteen synagogues and houses of study, thereby

Late Antique Galilee · 117

testifying to the vibrant religious life of the Jews there during the period.46 The rabbinic writings make allusions to the city’s main streets, market, and the Roman garrison.47 The archaeological data support the literary evidence of a thriving city, for recent excavations have uncovered a major street network, a civic center, archives or a library, a pagan temple, a Roman bathhouse, and many urban dwellings.48 Almost every folio of the Utrecht Psalter has an example of such Roman architecture: large and medium-sized basilicas in addition to those meant to stand for the Temple, city walls (figs. 3 and 13), palaces (fols. 51v, 65v), and even an aqueduct (fig. 12). More than sixty mosaics— pagan, Christian, Jewish—from the third to the fifth century have been uncovered in Sepphoris. The initial core of Hellenistic Sepphoris was situated on the summit of the hill (the so-called acropolis), and the city expanded downward and outward from there.49 On the northern slope was a first-century theater that could seat an audience of approximately 4,500 people. Some of those spectators were Jews, for they were known to attend the theater.50 The western side of the summit was densely built with houses and narrow streets. The archaeological record has also provided evidence of what might be termed waterworks. Until the second century CE , the city’s water was supplied through rainwater stored in cisterns. But eventually the city could no longer depend on rainwater, and an aqueduct and subterranean reservoir had to be built.51 Drainage channels were constructed, as were fountains. This water system reflects the flowing water coming from mountain springs in the illustration to some of the Psalms (Ps. 96/97, fol. 56v) and the fountain displayed elsewhere (Ps. 25/26, fig. 12). The water would be used not only for drinking and cooking but also in private baths that have been

118 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t h e u tre ch t ps alter

discovered beneath some of the dwellings. These baths are interpreted as mikvot, Jewish ritual baths, and as such they are seen as providing evidence for the presence of a sizable Jewish population in the city.52 In the second century a whole new group of streets was added in the eastern part of the city. The development of the area included a city center formed by a decumanus going from east to west, and a cardo, running from north to south. Limestone slabs covered the main streets, which were separated from the sidewalks by rows of columns. The floors of the sidewalks were mosaics. Shops were installed on both sides of the street. Various public and private buildings with impressive mosaics have been unearthed, including the so-called House of Dionysos with its elaborate pavement, one of the most sophisticated in the Roman East.53 Other residential quarters likewise display decorative mosaic floors. For instance, the “Orpheus mosaic” decorates the triclinium of a private dwelling in Lower Sepphoris. The stratigraphic context and the style suggest a date in the second half of the third century CE .54 It is unclear if the house belonged to a Hellenized Jew or a pagan citizen. Superb mosaics continued to be produced in Sepphoris up to the fifth century.55 For our purposes, the most important artistic monument in Sepphoris is the magnificent mosaic pavement in one of the Sepphorean synagogues (pls. 3, 3a, 3b). Organized into seven registers, it presents an elaborate iconographic scheme. The angels’ visit to Abraham and Sarah, and the binding of Isaac, fill the first two registers. Beneath the large central panel is a scene of the two servants who accompanied Abraham and his son. They are awaiting Abraham’s arrival (pl. 3b). The largest panel displays the sun’s chariot surrounded by the zodiac wheel and the four seasons (pl. 3). Unlike Tiberias, here the

sun is not personified. The radiant sun itself is riding the horse-drawn chariot. A basket of first fruits and the shewbread table are in the fourth register, followed by the consecration of Aaron to the service of the tabernacle in the fifth. The sixth register displays the sacred utensils, and the seventh represents two lions flanking a central wreath.56 These remarkable mosaic panels contain well-formed human figures representing scenes of the biblical narrative. Like the Hammat Tiberias mosaics (and the pavements at Huqoq and Wadi Hamam) they form an extraordinary window into Jewish Galilean art of late antiquity. One might ask, what did the rabbis have to say about these figurative mosaics? And further, how did they regard the sculpture that was all around them in the major Galilean cities? In what ways could rabbinic attitudes have had an impact on the creation of an illustrated version of the Hebrew psalms? After the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE and the diminished importance of what had been the Temple priesthood, the rabbis emerged among the principal representatives of Jewish leadership.57 Though from the late first through the second century the dominant attitude among rabbis was that the creation of any sort of image should be prohibited, in the third century some rabbis expressed greater acceptance of figurative imagery. We learn from the Jerusalem Talmud that “in the days of Rabbi Yohanan (third century), they began to depict [figural images] on the walls and he did not object; in the days of Rabbi Abun (fourth century), they began depicting [figural images] on mosaic floors and he did not object.”58 A somewhat more nuanced attitude toward figurative representations can be found in a Targumic passage on Leviticus 26:1. As interpreted by Lee I. Levine, this passage reads: “And you shall not place a figural stone in your

land for the purpose of prostration, but you may place a stoa [here, probably a mosaic pavement with figures and human images] impressed in the ground [i.e., floors] of our sanctuaries [i.e., synagogues], though not to bow down to it [i.e., not for purposes of worship], for I am the Lord your God.”59 This passage can be understood as indicating that the rabbis did not object if the figures were placed on the mosaic floors of synagogues as long as the congregants did not worship them. On the other hand, a number of rabbis were upset that, when praying, they would have to bow down on a synagogue floor that displayed figural images.60 They tried to resolve this in various ways: by changing where in the synagogue they prayed or by prostrating themselves in an unusual manner. Some merely avoided going to the synagogue at all.61 This attitude was present during the general time frame when the synagogue mosaics of Hammat Tiberias, Sepphoris, Wadi Hamam, and Huqoq were being created. In any case, though some rabbis found the synagogue mosaics troubling, they did not attempt to stop their creation.62 We know from the Midrash on Psalms that the rabbis whose words are recorded therein were familiar with the practices of artists. As mentioned in the introduction, though the midrashic method of interpreting the Bible goes back to before the Common Era, the compilation of the Midrash on Psalms began in the second century CE , so most of what is written there derives from the early centuries of the first millennium.63 One can assume that when the rabbis whose words are recorded in the Midrash discuss artists, they are probably speaking of those working during the Talmudic age, roughly 200–500 CE . And it is evident that those rabbis had some knowledge of the practices of artists. They mention them drawing and painting, using many pigments, and working with diligence.64

Late Antique Galilee · 119

The artist uses white, black, green, red, and other hues; he works assiduously and creates an image little by little. A metaphor in this passage highlights the contrast between the artist and God. In comparison with the Supreme Being, the artist is seen as extremely limited, but he is not viewed with hostility. It is clear that the sages had enough respect for the artist to use him in a metaphor invoking the Lord. It also reveals that the rabbinic commentator knew that his audience had some understanding of the workings of an artist. At the very least, the rabbis whose commentaries were set down in the Midrash had been exposed to artists and had probably even seen them at work, perhaps painting on walls, perhaps sketching on the plaster beneath the mosaic tesserae, or perhaps even drawing on parchment. In addition to responding to the work of painters, the rabbis were also aware of and responsive to the sculpture in the urban ambiance. In these Roman cities sculpture was all around them. It adorned the buildings, the fountains, and the arches.65 Moreover, it is clear from the texts that the rabbis of the Galilee were not totally averse to sculpture. They felt there were categories of statuary that did not pose a contradiction to the Jewish way of life.66 For instance, they distinguished between a statue that was a deity and one that was not. Certain attributes held by some sculpted figures—a stick, a bird, a ball, a sword, a crown, a ring, or a snake—were, in their eyes, the identifying signs of a deity. And for some rabbis, only the statues holding those attributes were “worshipped” and thus prohibited.67 This rabbinic attitude gave a kind of permission to the local Jewish inhabitants to accept the Roman statuary in public spaces, especially when it was merely decorative.68 On the other hand, sometimes that statuary turns up in Jewish art as representative

of “idols.” Such “idols” appear on the portal of “Egypt” in the Dura mural of the Israelites following Moses out of slavery (pls. 13 and 17). Idols also appear in numerous Utrecht Psalter illustrations. See, for example, the idol with horns being taken off the tower on the right in the illustration of Psalm 113/114–15 (fig. 34), and the nude idols above the portal in Psalm 94/95 (fig. 29). Though the literary evidence reveals that statuary existed in both Sepphoris and Tiberias, since Tiberias is built over, it does not provide many opportunities for excavation. The sculptural remains from Sepphoris, however, are quite varied.69 Uncovered in the Sepphorean excavations were several small figurines, including Pan, Prometheus, and Atlas.70 Atlas is one of the figures represented in the Utrecht Psalter.71 Freestanding white marble sculpture was also present in Sepphoris. The fragmentary remains consist of simple body parts—hands, thighs, and part of a lower torso.72 These fragments are well modeled and show a careful attention to form and surface. Since they decorated public spaces, the local Jewish inhabitants were no doubt acquainted with these kinds of statues.73 Much of this statuary was accepted as part of the Hellenistic environment in which the Jews lived, and, as mentioned above, the rabbinic texts show little hostility to it. Thus one can conclude that, as in the case of the figurative mosaics, the attitude of the sages and of Jews in general toward Greco-Roman statuary was not antagonistic.74 Coins can provide clues as to what the large sculptured forms in Tiberias and Sepphoris must have looked like. Coinage from second- and early third-century Tiberias, for instance, exhibits such figures as Hygieia, the goddess of healing. She is sometimes shown paired with Asklepios and holding a snake, a creature that was part of the healing ritual. These figures were reflective

120 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

of the statues placed in the temples located in the hot springs area of Hammat Tiberias, where the cult of Asklepios was practiced.75 The early third-century coinage of Sepphoris exhibits subjects such as Zeus, Hera, Athena, and Tyche, all appearing at a temple portal flanked by columns with capitals.76 One can conclude that the figures on the coins portray some of the gods and heroes gracing city structures.77 As mentioned above, in a Jewish model for the Utrecht Psalter such figures could sometimes have been transformed into “idols,” and indeed the Carolingian artist would have seen them as idols as well and would have represented them as such. See, for instance, the example of the idol standing on a column near the center of the illustration to Psalms 78/79 (fig. 27).78 However, the classical figures could also have been seen in the late antique Jewish context as neutral or even as positive, or as the personifications of places or of qualities, such as the river god, as in the House of Leontis79 (pl. 5). Palm-bearing females in the folios of the Utrecht Psalter represent personified qualities such as Mercy or Kindness.80 As I have shown, these kinds of personifications appeared in various places in the mosaic art of the Galilee.81 Those figures were part of the sculptural ambiance of the cities as well, and as such they could have inspired the motifs that appear in the Utrecht Psalter. Coins also bear witness to the typical Roman facades that graced the basilicas of these cities. Among the civic structures, the plan of a large basilican building has been unearthed in Sepphoris. Undoubtedly the coins that reveal typical basilican facades reflect those that were part of the architectural ambiance of the city. Such facades are present on nearly every folio of the Utrecht Psalter. They clearly reflect the late antique environment in which the manuscript was created.

Such an acceptance of “Hellenistic” forms and iconography by the general Jewish population and by most of the rabbis lay behind the appearance of Roman classical figures in the synagogue mosaics. This permissive attitude toward figurative art could likewise have given rise to the figures being used in an illustrated Jewish manuscript, a manuscript such as I have proposed for the model of the Utrecht Psalter. On the other hand, as I have mentioned, the classical figures that Jews of Sepphoris and Tiberias saw all around them could likewise have been reconfigured in such a manuscript. They could have been transmogrified into idols and used to represent such negative motifs as the pagan gods standing on a tower in Egypt as Moses led the Israelites toward the Red Sea.82 Though the rabbis had a role in the Jewish religious culture of the Galilee at the time, the creation of the figurative classical motifs on the synagogue pavements is not to be seen only in the context of rabbinical acceptance or disapproval. The sources that speak of rabbinic involvement in synagogue activities are sporadic and limited in scope.83 The rabbis usually gathered in a study house, or, on occasion, in private homes.84 Art created for a synagogue is to be associated with the patrons, the synagogue officials, the congregants, and the patriarch.85 He was the most important leader of the Jews in Roman Palestine during late antiquity, and the patriarchs are known to have displayed a lenient attitude toward figurative art.86 The atmosphere created by the great scholar Rabbi Judah I (135– ca. 217) set the stage for a growing openness to the Hellenistic environment.87 In the late second century his court was in Beth Sheʿarim, but at the beginning of the third century he moved to Sepphoris, where he spent seventeen years of his life. During the time he was there, as mentioned, Roman-style buildings were constructed

Late Antique Galilee · 121

and embellished with colorful mosaics and figural images in various media.88 Eventually the late third- and fourth-century patriarchs and their households adopted Greek customs, such as using mirrors, having one’s hair cut by non-Jews, and learning the Greek language.89 The various patriarchs corresponded with pagan authors and maintained contacts with imperial officials.90 The Theodosian Code emphasized the patriarchs’ power and prestige; they were awarded titles of honor such as spectabilis, illustris, and clarissimus et illustris.91 This positive attitude toward Greco-Roman culture apparently spread to many of the Jews of late antique Galilee. As we saw, when they had control of their own coinage, the Jewish aristocracy felt no inhibitions about introducing pagan figurative imagery on it. These aristocratic Jews studied the Torah in Greek as well as Hebrew.92 They read books from a wide range of pagan as well as Jewish writers.93 The prosperous Jews of the towns adorned their houses with mosaics displaying themes common to Roman houses throughout the empire.94 In those towns that had theaters and stadiums, Jews frequented them, even on the Sabbath and holidays.95 This milieu, where the patriarch himself was so “Hellenized” and where the figurative synagogue mosaics, classical statuary, and coins were made, would have been fertile ground for the creation of a Hebrew text of the Psalms illustrated with Hellenistic-style drawings. The waning power of paganism might explain the appearance of figurative art in late antique Galilee. In addition to the fact that the rabbis “did not object” to seeing designs on walls and floors, and that the aristocratic patrons and the patriarchs had a lenient attitude toward GrecoRoman culture, the appearance of figurative art might have related to the diminished threat of idolatry. The growing view that the pagan gods

were impotent made it easier for Jews to incorporate into their repertoire such Greco-Roman figures as Helios.96 Pagan Roman figures no longer had to be seen as potentially competing objects of worship or as “idols” that threatened the true God. The appearance of biblical figurative art on synagogue pavements may also be viewed in the context of the Jewish community’s response to the growth of the Christian population. With the Edict of Milan in 313, Constantine had decriminalized Christian worship. After this point Christianity continued to advance, and Judaism was on the defensive, apart from the rule of Julian from 361 to 363. In 380 the Nicene Creed became binding on all subjects of the empire, thus establishing Christianity as the state religion. With the increased Christianization of the region, the Christians’ use of figurative art to convey their message became more widespread. Pilgrims from all over the Mediterranean flocked to Christian martyrs’ tombs and other loci, places that often displayed figurative imagery. The pilgrims took back with them lamps and souvenirs adorned with images connected to the holy places. Christians used the figures to evoke the message of Jesus, and the representations served successfully to instruct the faithful. The use of figures in biblical stories on a synagogue floor would be equally useful. In the Sepphoris synagogue mosaics we can observe examples of Jewish iconography from the Bible that were reinterpreted by Christian artists and given a new Christian meaning. For instance, Christians saw the angels’ visit to Abraham and Sarah as a prefiguration of the annunciation. The binding of Isaac was understood as prefiguring the crucifixion. By late antiquity Christians were asserting that they, not the Jews, were the recipients of God’s promise to Abraham, the promise that he would bless

122 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

Abraham and multiply his descendants. Against this background, the scenes at Sepphoris may be understood as a counterclaim to Christian usage. It is logical to conclude that Jews represented these biblical events in order to promote the idea that it was in the Jewish context that the stories had their true legitimacy.97 Rina Talgam and others argue that the Sepphoris mosaics were a Jewish response to the growing Christian success in pictorially narrating the major themes of the Jewish religion, thereby strengthening their message. The rise of Christianity, with its extensive use of images, highlighted the power of art for establishing the faith, and the patrons and designers of the synagogue mosaics in Sepphoris, and elsewhere, may very well have likewise tried to make use of art to enhance the faith. If one accepts the idea that images like those in Sepphoris (and Hammat Tiberias, Wadi Hamam, Huqoq, and elsewhere) were indeed a Jewish response to Christian narrative art, these synagogue mosaics demonstrate that Jews of late antique Galilee were ready to use similar imagery to illustrate their interpretation of biblical texts and stories. This is another argument for the creation of a late antique illustrated Jewish manuscript containing drawings that served to illustrate the Psalms according to the Hebrew text and the Midrash. Such a project could have been undertaken as support for a Jewish, as opposed to a Christian, interpretation of the songs of David. I have been arguing that in settings such as Tiberias and Sepphoris the economic, cultural, religious, and artistic conditions were present for the creation of imagery accompanying the Hebrew text of the Psalms. There is, however, another aspect of the milieu that should be discussed: the extent of literacy among late antique Jews of the Galilee. One might ask, to what extent would a wealthy Hellenized patron have

been able to read Hebrew? In point of fact, literacy among the Jewish population in the late antique period flourished.98 Jewish schools were set up in which males learned to read. Of course, only wealthy families could afford to do without their sons’ income and/or manual labor, not to mention pay the teacher. Hence only relatively prosperous families would have sent their sons to teachers to gain skills in reading Hebrew.99 There was, however, a spread of Hebrew and Aramaic reading skills in late antiquity, thereby creating an “audience” for the written Hebrew text.100 The use of writing likewise increased. Prepared animal skins—that is, parchment— had been in use as a writing surface as early as the first century (as confirmed by the Dead Sea Scrolls). The psalm text, as well as many of the other Qumran scrolls, had been written on parchment. It is not known if those manuscripts of the Psalms were actually created in Qumran or if they came there from elsewhere. Nevertheless, based on the Qumran fragments, one can assume that at least through the second century CE , unillustrated scrolls of the Psalms circulated in Roman Palestine. Furthermore, we know that, in the Galilee, scrolls made of parchment were available for texts written for wealthy clients.101 The greater spread of a reading knowledge of Hebrew (and Aramaic), as well as the increased ability to write and the availability of writing materials, promoted a cultural/religious ambiance where written collections of texts were frequently produced.102 This started with the Mishnah in the third century and continued with the Jerusalem Talmud and midrashic works in the fourth and fifth centuries. With reading and writing becoming more common in these Galilean communities, the desire to possess collections of writings could have been easily

Late Antique Galilee · 123

fulfilled. Furthermore, as proved by the inscriptions on the mosaic pavements in the synagogues and Jewish houses, a number of Galilean Jews had the funds to support major artistic enterprises.103 A Hellenized Jew who could fund these expensive projects could also have had the means to support the creation of an illustrated Hebrew version of the Psalms.104 I write in the singular, of a Hellenized Jew, because unlike the making of a Torah, the creation of an illustrated collection of the Psalms would probably not have been a community endeavor. Such a work would have been made for a wealthy individual, not for use in a synagogue. Various psalms may have been part of the synagogue liturgy, but we have no direct evidence for the public reading of psalms in conjunction with the weekly Torah and prophetic selections. Nahum Sarna suggests it is most likely that the Psalms were reserved for private recitation.105 Even if individual psalms were part of the synagogue service, an illustrated version of the whole collection would have been of little use, for only one person at a time could view the drawings. Hence a “synagogue” copy is unlikely. It is more logical that a wealthy individual would have ordered the creation of an illustrated version for his and his family’s use. Just as the creation of a mosaic floor would have required a team of craftsmen and artists, likewise an illustrated version of the Psalms would have required the participation of a number of experts. First, the materials (animal skins worked into parchment, as well as ink and writing/drawing materials) would have to be secured and prepared. Then the stitching together of the sheets (most likely into a scroll) would have to be planned. Most important, of course, would have been the creative work of the artist himself, who—probably along with a religious/scholarly adviser—had to devise the motifs to accompany

the Hebrew verses. This would indeed have been a costly project. However, if the wealthy Jews of Galilee could support the creation of such rich mosaic floors, one of them probably could have found the funds to commission an illustrated copy of the Psalms. I suggest that such a patron living in this relatively prosperous environment did just that. He or his designees could have sought out an artist (or an artistic team) to work with a scribe and a religious adviser. They would have devised a plan for the content of the accompanying imagery. Just how these extraordinary literal motifs were invented remains a mystery. Obviously such a formidable creative project required great knowledge of the text as well as the spark of inspiration. The creator or creative team must have been familiar not only with the text, but also with Jewish folklore and commentary, for we have seen the numerous instances where the Midrash rather than the psalm itself best explains the imagery. In summation, the Galilee offered a prosperous economic environment. The rabbis were apparently not particularly hostile toward figurative art. The patriarchal class and the Jewish aristocracy participated in Greco-Roman culture, and their attitude toward figurative art and classical decoration was open-minded and accepting. Christian art of the period offered a model for the creation of didactic religious iconography. In the following chapter I will delve further into the artistic skills necessary for the creation of the “Hellenistic”-style imagery present in the Galilee, where the figures in several of the mosaics exhibit a naturalism, a three-dimensionality, and a surprising “impressionistic” vibrancy. I will also explore the working techniques of the mosaicists. They had to draw the mosaic motifs on a layer of plaster underneath where the tesserae would be placed. On that plaster layer they also

124 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

had to indicate the shading that gave three-dimensionality to the forms. The well-articulated figures and the subtle modeling of the forms that we see in some of the Galilean mosaics would have been present in the drawings beneath the mosaics. I contend that the drawing skills manifest in the prosperous and rich artistic environment of the Galilee were transferable. They could have been used to draw motifs on parchment as well as on plaster. Hence it is logical to place the creation of a late antique illustrated version of the Hebrew psalms in the Galilee.

Late Antique Galilee · 125

Chapter 4

The textual and iconographic analyses presented above strongly suggest that an illustrated Hebrew manuscript was at the root of the Utrecht Psalter. The economic/religious/cultural overview of late Roman Galilee points to that region as the area where the model could have originated. Given the prosperous Jewish population of certain Galilean cities, the availability of wealthy patrons, the expertise in reading and writing, and the presence of skilled artists, I contend that an illustrated book of Psalms dependent on the Hebrew text could have been created in the Galilee in the late Roman, or what has been termed the late antique, period. There are no clear and accepted definitions of periodization of late antiquity. Some scholars refer to the third through the fifth century as “early Christian,” a definition that relates to content and to only one segment of the population. Other scholars refer to the fourth and fifth centuries as “Early Byzantine.” The mosaics and sculpture from late antique Palestine that I will discuss below cannot be termed “Early Byzantine” even if they were created in that period, for they are less stiff and flat. Hence, in this study I have adopted the chronology whereby the fourth and fifth centuries in this region are called “late Roman” or “late antique” rather than Byzantine. Below I will highlight the stylistic affinities that could have existed between

The Style of the Utrecht Psalter and Its Relation to Late Antique Jewish Art

the art of late Roman Galilee and a hypothetical Jewish book of Psalms (the Utrecht Psalter model). I will demonstrate that certain Galilean mosaics and sculpted objects bear a resemblance to the style manifest in that Carolingian manuscript. At least nine artists worked on the Utrecht illustrations.1 Their personal drawing styles differ only slightly, but all of them worked in what has been termed an “impressionist” or “illusionistic” manner, akin to that of Hellenistic art.2 As my analyses of the Psalms reveal, apart from the ninth-century insertion of the figure of Christ and a few Christological motifs, each of those nine artists transmitted the iconography of the model.3 This chapter will demonstrate in what ways the Carolingian artists were also emulating the style of their model—well-articulated human figures set upon groundlines evoking a landscape, three-dimensionally rendered structures displaying features of classical architecture, well-articulated animals moving naturalistically, and spatial renderings and compositions that reflect the Hellenistic aesthetic flourishing in late antiquity. This Hellenistic aesthetic was easily adopted by the Utrecht artists, since the Reims scriptoria had already experienced an infusion of some elements of a Hellenistic style during the early years of the ninth century.4 Such a style was emerging, for instance, with the miniatures of the Aachen Gospels (Aachen, Cathedral Treasury) and the Xanten Gospels (Brussels, Bibl. Royal, Ms. 18723). I will demonstrate below that a number of synagogue mosaics from the Galilee exhibit stylistic elements akin to those found in the Utrecht Psalter. Jewish funerary sculpture from the Galilee likewise displays Hellenistic/classical features. To review the points discussed in the previous chapters that relate to style, scholars agree that the artists working on the Utrecht Psalter

adapted the illustrations from a late antique model.5 Van der Horst detected that the illustrations at hand were probably not attached to the Latin text of the Psalms, nor, possibly, to any text.6 They could have been illustrations on loose sheets of parchment, sheets with images that served as models for the artists. Van der Horst came to this conclusion because the illustrations for the first three psalms were, at first, inaccurately placed.7 They were not set above their corresponding texts. The first few images had to be erased so that the correct drawing could be put above the appropriate psalm. This initial error suggested to Van der Horst that the Utrecht artists used a model in which the illustrations were not integrated with the text. We thus have the possibility that the psalm illustrations were originally dependent on a different text entirely. I have demonstrated in my analyses that the “different” text of the Psalms was likely in Hebrew. Furthermore, Dufrenne has proposed, and scholars have accepted, the suggestion that the original series of illustrations did not contain any scenes relating to the life of Christ or the Christian martyrs. She argued that the eight Christological scenes she saw in the Psalter proper were added during the Carolingian period.8 In addition, in about thirty-four illustrations, the hand of God (an iconographic motif found in early Jewish art) appears along with, if not instead of, the figure of Christ, an indication that the hand of God alone could have been in the model.9 In the preserved folio of the Douce Psalter illustration of Psalm 51/52, which is of the same family as the Utrecht Psalter and portrays the same scene in a very similar manner, it is the hand of God, not the figure of Christ, that is displayed.10 One can therefore hypothesize that the late antique model did not depict the figure of Jesus, and that the Carolingian

128 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

artists put Christ in the places where originally only the hand of God was represented. If the Utrecht artists were copying from a model that had no images of Christ, they had either to make room for the added figure or substitute Jesus for the hand of God. In fact, in several compositions it is apparent that the artist had to strain to provide room for the added figure of Jesus.11 Keeping these issues in mind, we can now look at the art of late antique Galilee to see what stylistic affinities its mosaics and sculpture have with the Utrecht Psalter. Though the individual styles of the eight or nine artists illustrating the Utrecht Psalter can be readily differentiated, all of them more or less follow stylistic principles that have been termed “Hellenistic.”12 Many of the Galilean mosaics from the third to the early fifth century likewise exhibit something of a “Hellenistic” style, though in the late fifth and sixth centuries some of the figures and objects become more schematic and flat. The model for the Utrecht Psalter would have been stylistically akin to the mosaics of the earlier group. It is important to keep in mind, however, that there is not a strict stylistic movement in the mosaics from “more” to “less” Hellenistic. Their style depends somewhat on the type of building they are found in, the particular artist at work, and the locale. I will limit my discussion to mosaics that are found in synagogues or places purported to be Jewish houses, but the same evolution of styles can seen in Christian or pagan settings.13 We are fortunate to have a plethora of visual material from third- to fifth-century Galilee. In the last decades, literally hundreds of mosaics, connected to all faiths, many in fragmentary form, have been discovered in the region.14 There is also a certain amount of figurative sculpture that has been uncovered in Jewish funerary settings, much of which displays pagan

Greco-Roman iconography and style.15 In the first part of this chapter I will discuss some of the Hellenistic-style mosaics from Jewish sites in late antique Galilee and make the argument that they exhibit a strong stylistic link with the Utrecht Psalter. Such a relationship will support my hypothesis that a late antique model for the Carolingian manuscript was created during the third through the fifth century in Roman Palestine, most likely among Jews living in the Galilee. In studying the style of the mosaics it is important to look first at the working methods of the artists who created them. Rachel Hachlili provides insights into those methods and examines what we can know about the artists’ drawing skills.16 Her work is important because, as will become clear, the expertise of the artists in drawing naturalistic forms and modeling them skillfully is an ability that is transferable to other media and could have been used in the creation of an illustrated book. On the basis of inscribed signatures, as well as stylistic details and compositional similarities, Hachlili has determined that a number of teams of mosaicists (Jewish, Christian, and pagan) traveled around the region from the third through the sixth century. The inscriptions reveal that the teams were small, sometimes only two people. Hachlili proposes that they must have carried pattern books— compilations illustrating general themes and motifs. Indeed, similar motifs were used repeatedly in the mosaics of the region, in geographically separate pavements, and in structures of different faiths.17 Hachlili’s suggestion that model books were used is supported by the fact that some motifs seen on the mosaic floors can also be found in other media, such as silver and in ivory.18 Hachlili, Talgam, and other scholars have thus concluded that the similarity in the rendering of figures and objects in geographically

Style of the Utrecht Psalter · 129

dispersed pavements as well as in diverse media makes a strong argument for the artists’ use of model books.19 The existence of these model books would imply that at some point the artists were working from motifs drawn on sheets of parchment or papyrus.20 The late antique artists who drew figures in their model books could have created drawings on parchment sheets for other purposes as well. We know that the mosaicists had to be skilled at executing detailed drawings as well as at setting the tesserae in the plaster, for their craft demanded that they draw the images on the plaster before they laid down the stones or the cubes of glass. There were two layers of plaster in the bedding of the floor. A preliminary sketch was painted on the lower layer. Then the artists prepared more detailed color paintings on the upper layer, the plaster surface that was intended for the tesserae.21 Those paintings were meant to guide the artists who laid the tesserae of the mosaic. Such drawing skills are, of course, transferable. Since practically no manuscript illustration survives from late antiquity, we have limited possibilities for studying their style.22 The mosaics set on top of the plaster underdrawings provide a welcome clue to what might have been the drawing style in a Jewish late antique manuscript. In general, the stylistic features common to some late antique Galilean mosaics and to the Utrecht Psalter include well-modeled, anatomically convincing forms with an indication of musculature, figures appearing to move in a spatial ambient, buildings that look three-dimensional, figures or structures set on supporting groundlines often placed at various levels, and “filler” elements such as trees or tall grasses. One of the most important similarities between the mosaics and the drawings is the rectangular compositions that characterize the Utrecht

Psalter and are also found in two recently uncovered synagogue pavements: the mosaic panels at Khirbet Wadi Hamam (pls. 15, 15a, 15b, 15c) and at Huqoq (pls. 16, 16a, 16b). In some instances the figures and structures in these mosaics and in the Carolingian drawings are placed on different levels of the compositional space, yet the image is best understood from a single point of view. (See below for a discussion of these synagogue pavements.) Though some of the Galilean mosaics that exhibit the above-listed characteristics were pagan or Christian, I will concentrate on those mosaics in synagogues or judged by scholars to have been created for a Jewish setting.23 This discussion of some of the mosaics from a Jewish milieu in late antique Galilee will demonstrate that the stylistic ambiance of that time and place could easily have seen the creation of a “Hellenistic” model for the Utrecht Psalter, a model dependent upon a Hebrew text. The early third-century mosaics in the triclinium of the House of Dionysos in Sepphoris in the Galilee are characterized by carefully drawn and well-modeled forms (pl. 11).24 In spite of the fact that the iconography pertains to the cult of Dionysos, Zeev Weiss has made the proposal that the mosaics decorate what may have been the home of one of the city’s wealthy Jews, an abode with a Hellenistic orientation. Weiss goes so far as to suggest that the house might have belonged to Rabbi Judah the Prince, chief editor of the Mishnah.25 Even if the patron was not Judah the Prince, the mosaic provides an example of the extraordinary naturalistic style present in the third century in the city of Sepphoris, where a good number of wealthy Jews resided. Fifteen panels depict various episodes in the life of Dionysos.26 There is another panel, done slightly later, that replaced some of the Dionysos mosaic and that displays Nilotic scenes (pl. 12). Several features in these mosaics contain

130 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

elements common to the Utrecht Psalter.27 In both the mosaics and the Psalter, there is something of an attempt to create a realistic sense of space. For instance, the figures in some of Nilotic mosaic panels stand on a brown or black strip of ground. In the Utrecht Psalter, likewise, the figures are supported by groundlines, though the supporting lines are generally more ample and on various levels in the composition. The figures in the Psalter are often placed against a plain background, sometimes with vegetation that relates to the event depicted, but at other times with just a bush or tree serving as a filler. This is the case with the mosaics as well. The mosaicists have attempted to create a sense of volume with the subtle use of light and dark tesserae. The most extraordinary example of this is the female head among acanthus leaves (pl. 12a). Though much of the imagery in the Psalter is the result of overdrawing,28 we still get the sense of an interplay of lighter and darker lines, as well as occasional shading, all features that provide a volumetric effect, as in the mosaics. In both the Dionysos mosaics and the manuscript drawings, the size of the figures ranges from normal to slender, and the heads are in correct proportion to the bodies. In the mosaic as in the Psalter, the garments are typical of Roman garb—the short or midcalf tunic for the men, longer tunics for sages, priests, and women. The king typically wears a short tunic, but on occasion a long one, and often a cloak, a covering common to warriors as well. Prophets wear a long tunic and mantle. The clothing is drawn in such a way as to suggest an actual body beneath. In the mosaics as in the Psalter, we are generally provided with a profile or three-quarter view of the human beings, and many of the feet are presented in three-quarter view, or foreshortened.29 On the other hand, in both the mosaics and the manuscript, animals, birds, and fish are most

often shown in profile. An exception is that in the Utrecht Psalter the bodies of the lions are more rounded and sometimes contorted (see Psalm 16/17, fig. 7). As mentioned, the religious identity of the patron of the mosaics in the House of Dionysos is not clear, though Weiss has suggested that an aristocratic Jew, or even Rabbi Judah, might have commissioned them.30 Whether or not this is true, the Hellenistic tradition followed in the House of Dionysos provides a sense of the artistic environment of third-century Sepphoris, a partially Jewish city. Clearly this was a milieu that fostered a style very much like that exhibited in the Utrecht Psalter.31 A number of the mosaic pavements in the Galilee are important for our purposes not only because they display the naturalistic characteristics cited above, but also because their compositions bear a resemblance to the rectangular compositions and the spatial organization found in the Utrecht Psalter. Recently discovered examples are in the synagogues of Khirbet Wadi Hamam (pls. 15, 15a, 15b, 15c)32 and Huqoq (pls. 16, 16a, 16b).33 Mosaics from these synagogues look very much as if they originated as rectangular compositions that were transferred to a floor mosaic panel.34 The Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue is located in the middle of a Roman-period village just west of the Sea of Galilee.35 The surviving mosaics, originally in the aisles of the synagogue, were part of a chain of twelve panels. Among the fragmentary remains are three that contain biblical narratives. Two of the panels represent “Pharaoh’s Army Cast into the Sea” (pl. 15) and “Samson Fighting the Philistines” (pl. 15b).36 Based on the recent excavations at Huqoq we now know that what had been identified as “craftsmen” building an unidentified structure actually depicts the building of the Tower of Babel (pl. 15a).37

Style of the Utrecht Psalter · 131

It is most likely that Wadi Hamam dates from the late fourth century, and Huqoq from the early fifth century.38 The iconography displays the usual details of garments, weapons, and stone buildings characteristically found in other mosaics done in the Roman East at this time. The inscriptions on the panels are in wellformed Hebrew letters, an indication that the mosaicists could have been Jews. At least two different artists participated in the laying of the Khirbet Wadi Hamam panels The artist of the Tower of Babel panel created figures and a pictorial composition that is reflective of the figures and layout in the Utrecht Psalter (pl. 15a). The workers are busy building the tower. They grasp various tools, such as a frame saw, a mallet, a chisel, and a pit saw. One of the workmen holds an unidentified object on his shoulder. Two porters carry a stone up a ramp toward the building.39 The structure itself is constructed of courses of large ashlar masonry, as are many of the buildings and city walls in the Utrecht Psalter. Some of the craftsmen are shown in three-quarter views; curved lines correspond to muscles that define some of the bodies; and the workmen are portrayed in a variety of postures. All of this is reminiscent of the treatment of the figures in the Carolingian manuscript. Furthermore, the tesserae depicting the drapery and the limbs—for instance, the legs of the porters climbing the scaffold—move gradually from dark to light, giving the body some volume, a quality seen in the ninth-century manuscript as well. Elsewhere, for instance, in the panel of the drowning of Pharaoh’s soldiers, various tones of brown and gray are used in the depiction of the towers of the building to the left of Pharaoh’s drowning army (pl. 15). The skillfully placed tesserae make one side of the towers appear shaded and thus volumetric. Such shading is a technique frequently used in the Utrecht

Psalter to give volume to cylindrical objects.40 In the scene of Samson fighting the Philistines, however, the modeling is harsher, indicating that another artist undertook the work (pl. 15b). In two scenes the architectural structure is out of proportion to the other figures—whether it is the portion of the tower in the craftsmen scene or the city on the left in the maritime scene. This use of “emblematic” buildings and cities, out of proportion with the figures, is common in late antique art in general, and is also a major characteristic of the Utrecht Psalter. In some of these Huqoq and Wadi Hamam panels, the lines beneath the motifs, created by two or three rows of light brown tesserae, “support” the figures (pl. 15a). Workers in the Tower of Babel scenes in both Huqoq and Wadi Hamam are freely placed on those “ground” levels. See, for instance, the groundlines under the man with the saw, the worker with a hammer, or the seated man with the chisel. In the panel “Samson Fighting the Philistines,” the fleeing horse and rider hover over a groundline, as do the figure and the structure at the top of the fragment (pl. 15b). Thus the principle of placing figures, objects, or structures on different groundlines at various levels is adhered to in these mosaics, and can be seen in nearly all the Utrecht illustrations as well. In both the mosaic and the manuscript this naturalistic element gives the viewer a sense that the figures and objects are stationed on or moving in a spatial environment. In addition, the mosaics are composed so that the spectator can view them best from one vantage point, another feature they obviously share with the Psalter. Though the Wadi Hamam motifs are best seen from one point of view, rarely is there a single focus, so it is often difficult to find the key figures, just as in the Utrecht Psalter. The Wadi Hamam panels provide iconographic insights as well. They give

132 · h eb re w ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

us an idea of what Jewish biblical manuscript art could have looked like, and thus of the illustrative tradition that might have influenced the artists executing the model of the Utrecht Psalter. Though the finds at the Huqoq synagogue are not fully published as of this writing, one can discern from the preliminary and interim excavated materials some similarities between the Huqoq mosaics and the Utrecht Psalter imagery. One scene in this fifth-century mosaic has been tentatively dubbed the “Meeting of the Commander and the Priest” (pl. 16).41 There, as at Khirbet Wadi Hamam and in the Utrecht Psalter, small groundlines created by two or three parallel rows of beige tesserae support the humans, the elephant, and the sacrificial bull. Though some of the drapery modeling at Huqoq is stiff, at other times it is more naturalistic, as in the garment of the old man seated on a throne beneath an arcade and gazing at the viewer. The mosaicist who modeled the face of the commander of the army used seven or eight differently colored tesserae to create convincing contours for the face of a middle-aged man (pl. 16a). Furthermore, there are iconographic similarities between these newly discovered Huqoq mosaics and the Utrecht Psalter, including the running arcade made of well-hewn ashlar masonry and supported by columns and capitals; the type of lighted oil lamps above the arcade; the sacrificial bull; the military garment of the commander, consisting of the short tunic and the cloak fastened with a fibula (the breastplate is Roman); and the shape of the ribbonlike diadem worn as a crown by the commander. As in the Utrecht Psalter, the Khirbet Wadi Hamam and the Huqoq mosaics include the scene of Pharaoh’s army drowning in the Red Sea (pls. 15 and 16b).42 Though the Huqoq drowning scene is more fragmentary, both panels display the usual horses, soldiers, and weapons.

And in both, the mosaicists have depicted a large fish (pls. 15c and 16b). At Khirbet Wadi Hamam, for instance, the fish is defined by white, light gray, dark gray, black, orange, and red tesserae, thereby providing the impression of a three-dimensional form. The dark line defining the Khirbet Wadi Hamam fish presents a body with a certain sinuosity. This fluidity is also present in the various fishes in the Huqoq panel; they are rendered with lively flowing lines, accurately placed fins, and open mouths (pl. 16b).43 The fish representing Pisces/Adar in the Hammat Tiberias zodiac displays similar variegated colored tesserae and naturalistic contours.44 The work of these mosaicists can be compared with that of the Carolingian artists who drew fishes in several illustrations. For instance, at the right in the seascape at the bottom of Psalm 138/139 (fig. 39) are two fish not unlike the ones at Khirbet Wadi Hamam and Huqoq (pls. 16c, 15c, and 16b). The bodies are sinuous, and the dorsal and belly fins, as well as the forked tails, are all convincingly rendered. Another example, the Khirbet Wadi Hamam mosaic of “Pharaoh’s Army Cast into the Sea,” presents one of the wheels of a broken chariot in a three-quarter view, and, on the left of the panel, a couple of cylindrical towers are given three-dimensionality through the use of various tones of red, beige, and white tesserae (pl. 15). These characteristics are found in the Utrecht Psalter rendering of the scene as well. An example of a cylindrical tower can be seen on the extreme left in the city wall of Ba‘al Zephon, illustrated in Psalm 105/106 (fig. 30), and for a three-quarter view of a wheel, see the one on the extreme right of Psalm 19/20, fol. 11r. It is clear that the Huqoq and Khirbet Wadi Hamam mosaicists had no trouble creating naturalistic, “Hellenistic” forms. Thus, some of these late antique Galilean mosaics can be seen to display stylistic affinities with the Utrecht

Style of the Utrecht Psalter · 133

Psalter, especially with regard to the creation of convincing lines defining the forms, the modeling of the figures, and the rendering of a spatial ambient. We have already discussed the iconographic resemblances between the illustrations of certain psalms and the iconography of the pavement mosaics at Hammat Tiberias (dated 350–400).45 There are stylistic affinities between the Hammat Tiberias pavement and the ninthcentury Psalter as well. An inscription tells us that the founder of the Hammat Tiberias synagogue was Severus, who was called “a servant of the most illustrious patriarch.” He was, apparently, a high official in the court of the patriarch in Tiberias and one of those aristocrats who could act as a patron for expensive works of art.46 Presumably this official, and/or those in his community, could afford the best mosaicists in the region. And, in fourth- and early fifthcentury Galilee, the best mosaicists were working in a Hellenistic style. Unlike the narrative imagery in the mosaic panels in the synagogues of Khirbet Wadi Hamam and Huqoq, the mosaics of Hammat Tiberias are more presentational and static. In their own way, however, they project an appreciation for the Hellenistic tradition. For instance, the face and neck of the sun god is naturalistically modeled with nearly a dozen shades of tesserae (pl. 2b). Six or seven different shades of tesserae are found in the faces, necks, and hands of the seasons, making for smoothly modeled surfaces (pl. 2c).47 There is an attempt to depict the anatomy in the forms of the two male zodiacal figures (pl. 2d).48 The youth representing Libra—though he is somewhat squat and has a big head—does have defined pectorals and a divided rib cage. He stands on one leg, and for balance he uses the other foot,

depicted as foreshortened. In addition, the fact that Libra and Aquarius are nude places this mosaic clearly within the Greco-Roman classicist milieu. The other figures and animals in the zodiac circle likewise exhibit volumetric forms with various tones of tesserae used to articulate their contours.49 Here also, the fish are represented using six or seven differently colored tesserae.50 And in the body of the bull we find a gradual color transition from light to dark, the technique necessary for achieving the effect of three-dimensionality.51 The evocation of the third dimension is also present in the Hammat Tiberias depiction of the panel with Jewish symbols (pl. 2e). The mosaicist employed shading and very slightly converging orthogonals on the bases of the columns, thereby giving them some depth. Through shading the artist tried to give some depth to cubic objects represented in the Utrecht Psalter as well.52 And the temples, often depicted in three-quarter view, likewise give us the sense of three-dimensionality. As I pointed out in my discussion of the individual psalms, the iconography of the Utrecht Psalter includes a number of mythological figures common to the mosaic art of the Galilee: the sun god in various forms, river gods, the earth mother, the Atlas figures, the “sea monster”—creatures that were a manifestation of the influence of classical art in late antiquity. In addition to the mythological characters, other small details are present in both the mosaics and the Utrecht Psalter, details signaling that the model of the Psalter could have originated in the late antique milieu of the mosaics. One such detail is the torn, pointed “skirts” of the satyrs, which resemble those of the devils in the Carolingian manuscript.53 Another is the three-legged table seen in the House of Orpheus as well as in numerous images

134 · h eb re w ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

in the Utrecht Psalter.54 When “dancing” is mentioned in the text of the Psalms, the legs of the Utrecht dancers are shown as crossed, a convention observed in the mosaics as well.55 The ubiquitous basilican form standing for the Temple in the Utrecht Psalter—a central portal flanked by columns with capitals supporting a pediment—can be compared to the facades in Hammat Tiberias (pl. 2e) and Sepphoris. 56 As in the mosaics of Hammat Tiberias, sometimes curtains are present on the Temple facades in the Carolingian manuscript, and there are steps leading to the entrance. A three-quarter view of a basilica like the one drawn so many times in the Utrecht Psalter is mirrored in another Galilean mosaic—in the top right corner in the mosaic from the public building north of the decumanus in Sepphoris.57 There the steps are given three-dimensionality, as so often is the case in the ninth-century manuscript. On the other hand, some of the fourthcentury Galilean mosaics exhibit a movement away from the Roman classical tradition. It is clear that within the teams of mosaicists some artists were more interested in rendering naturalistic figures and a three-dimensional spatial ambiance than were others. For instance, as I pointed out in my discussion of Hammat Tiberius, the figure of Libra is squat; a dark outline encompasses his right arm; and his head is too large for the rest of his body (pl. 2d). Some arbitrary use of the colored tesserae is seen in the form of Aquarius, and, unlike the other zodiac figures, a black line delineates a good deal of his form. In some places the faces of the seasons exhibit abrupt changes of color or have a particularly dark contour line.58 The lines of the garments of Virgo and Autumn are rather rigid (pls. 2a, 2c).59 Hence, though some mosaicists moved away from the classical tradition,

others continued to work in a Hellenistic style, exhibiting lively volumetric figures and a hint of three-dimensionality in cubic forms.60 The mosaics of the Sepphoris synagogue are a bit later (first half of the fifth century) and are stylistically different from those at Hammat Tiberias. They are characterized by more pattern and rigidity in the drapery, less subtlety in the shading, and dark contour lines defining almost all of the figures and objects (pls. 3, 3a, 3b). The iconography of the Sepphoris mosaic, like that at Hammat Tiberias, offers representations of the four seasons and a zodiac wheel. However, instead of a human figure of the sun god, the sun itself rides a quadriga, a chariot drawn by four horses. Those horses are defined by dark lines, and there is little subtlety in the modeling of their bodies and heads, which are depicted in strict profile. The surviving zodiac figures are stiff and exhibit practically no movement. Their bodies lack volume, and their drapery is flat. The mantle of the youth accompanying Scorpio, for instance, is characterized by a large swath of white tesserae, a band of gray, and then a thinner black line (pl. 3a). The faces of the seasons are flatter than at Hammat, and fewer tones of tesserae are used in the modeling.61 The drapery of the Sepphoris seasons falls into a concentric pattern. The panel representing the sacred utensils, though fragmentary, shows no evidence of three-dimensionality.62 The cubic altar in the surviving portions of the scene representing “Aaron’s consecration to the service of the tabernacle” was not given any volume.63 Furthermore, unlike in the craftsmen scene at Khirbet Wadi Hamam, at Sepphoris what is meant to represent the foothills under the seated servant in the Isaac panel is rendered as a series of abstract mounds with the servant’s boots hovering above them (pl. 3b). The other servant is depicted

Style of the Utrecht Psalter · 135

floating against a plain white background. In general, fewer colors are used in the tesserae defining the Sepphoris figures and objects than in those at Hammat Tiberias, and the modeling is considerably less subtle. Thus the mosaics in the fifth-century Sepphoris synagogue exhibit a movement away from a Hellenistic style. This argues for a more likely fourth- or early fifth-century date for any Galilean model for the Utrecht Psalter, though one must remember that stylistic shifts are fluid and gradual. Among the fifth-century remains at Beth Shean (ancient Scythopolis) are the mosaics in the House of Leontis, the mansion of a wealthy Jew (pls. 5 and 5a).64 The mansion consists of a courtyard surrounded by rooms, one of which was a synagogue. The synagogue mosaic pavement has a vine-trellis pattern, and in the center is a medallion with a menorah beneath the word Shalom (peace). Another of the rooms (Hall No. 3) is decorated with a mosaic carpet likewise dated to the fifth century.65 The carpet, consisting of three framed panels, is viewed from one perspective, as are the panels in Khirbet Wadi Hamam and Huqoq. In the upper panel is a scene from Homer’s Odyssey, where the hero is tied to the mast of his ship so that he cannot be lured by the song of the Sirens (pl. 5a). In the upper left of this detail is a naked Nereid riding an ichthyocentaur whose head is missing. The creature has the legs of a horse and a trident tail.66 A similar twisted sea creature is illustrated in the waters at the bottom of the image accompanying Psalm 148 (pl. 5b). It likewise has a trident fish-tail and a coiled body out of which come front legs.67 The Utrecht example has a monster’s head; at the House of Leontis the head has been destroyed. In the lower part of the detail of that panel a half-naked young man is seated in a ship. Similar sailing vessels are pictured in the Psalter, some with spiral sterns

(Psalm 104, fol. 59v) and others with furled sails (Psalm 96, fol. 56r). The boatman in the mosaic is fighting what may be meant to represent the monster Scylla.68 The part of the creature that is preserved resembles the ichthyocentaur, but with a shorter tail and body. In the lower panel is a river god stripped to the waist, with the bottom part of his body wrapped in a cloak (pl. 5). Holding a reed, he is seated on a kind of water beast. A similar river god holding a reed and, with his arm extended, is present in the illustration to Psalm 97/98 (pl. 5c). Four inscriptions have been found in the mosaic pavement of Hall No. 3. One of them, within the Odysseus mosaic itself, reads in Greek, “Lord, help Leontis Kloubas.”69 Another, in a circle of the middle panel reads, “Be remembered for good and for [sic] praise Kyrios Leontis Kloubas because he paved this with mosaic at his own (expense) for his own salvation and that of his brother Jonathan.”70 At the end of the fourth line of the inscription is a badly damaged menorah. Stylistically, this fifth-century pavement does not exhibit the Hellenistic characteristics found in some of the panels at Khirbet Wadi Hamam, Huqoq, and Hammat Tiberias. The outlines of the figures are thick and dark; the folds are patterned; and the gestures are stiff. There is far less modeling than in the more Hellenistic work we have seen, and the anatomy of the figures is awkwardly rendered. But the presence of these classical motifs—the twisted bodies of the ichthyocentaurs, the river god seated on a water beast, the fish and water birds, as well as the late Roman boats—relate this Leontis mosaic to the scenes and motifs in the Utrecht Psalter. The importance of these mosaics for our study is that they show how the Jewish population took part in the trend of representing classical pagan subject matter, classical motifs that we

136 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

have also seen in the ninth-century manuscript. The Leontis mosaics, as well as the model for the Utrecht Psalter, should be regarded as manifestations of classical paideia in late antiquity.71 Ancient texts such as the Odyssey continued to play a part in the education of the upper classes among pagans, Christians, and Jews. As indicated by these Odyssey scenes, Jews did not find that the classical literature conflicted with their faith. On the contrary, the Siren of the Odyssey story was cited in Talmudic verses as a symbol of the temptations of the mortal world.72 As we saw, the third-century House of Dionysos mosaics are by far the most Hellenistic of the Galilean pavements. Though different mosaicists were at work at each venue, in general, the Hammat Tiberias mosaics and the “Pharaoh’s Army Cast into the Sea” panels at Khirbet Wadi Hamam and Huqoq, all fourthor fifth-century work, retain a lesser degree of naturalism than that found in the Dionysos house. Though the situation is complex, by the mid-fifth century we find a growing stiffening and rigidity, as exemplified in the mosaics of Sepphoris and especially in the House of Leontis.73 The greater Hellenism of the third- , fourth- , and fifth-century mosaics accords with the generally vibrant economies of those centuries, a situation that changed considerably in the later fifth century.74 It is the Hellenistic tradition adhered to in some of the panels at Khirbet Wadi Hamam, Huqoq, and Hammat Tiberias that most resembles the drawings in the Utrecht Psalter. One can conclude that it is more probable that if the Utrecht Psalter model was created in late antique Galilee, it was drawn at a time when a lingering Hellenistic style was still in fashion. An in-depth knowledge of the Hebrew text of the Psalms and the midrashic commentary would have been necessary for the creation of

the literal visual motifs present in the Utrecht Psalter. Surely Jewish religious advisers could have been available to aid an artist (or artists) creating the imagery. But were the artists themselves Jews? Hachlili takes for granted that “Jewish artists from families with long traditions of inherited craftsmanship” were working on the synagogue mosaics.75 She cites contemporary Jewish literature that discusses Jewish artists who also worked for pagans and Christians. The fact that many of the inscriptions and labels in the synagogues are in well-defined Hebrew letters reinforces her opinion. For instance, the zodiac figures and seasons labeled in Hammat Tiberias and Sepphoris are rendered in good-quality Hebrew.76 Drawing the Hebrew letters accurately on the plaster and then setting the tesserae properly is a skill Hachlili believes would have been more likely possessed by Jews familiar with the Hebrew alphabet than by nonJews. Moshe Dothan has pointed out, however, that in one instance the well-formed Hebrew letters designating the figure of Aquarius (Deli) in the zodiac wheel at Hammat Tiberias were set in backward. He interprets that backward insertion as indicating that the mosaicist could not have been a Jew because he did not know the Hebrew language and was incorrectly following a pattern given to him by a designer.77 Others have objected to Dothan’s interpretation. Talgam, for instance, argues that the letters were purposely written in mirror image to indicate the intercalary month of Adar II. By setting the letters backward into the plaster the artist could show that this was a lunisolar calendar.78 Other suggestions for the mirror image of the letters are that they referenced a magical practice or reflected an ancient liturgical poem where Aquarius preceded Capricorn.79 I would draw the conclusion that for the most part the wellformed Hebrew letters were likely rendered by

Style of the Utrecht Psalter · 137

Jewish craftsmen, though one cannot be sure about the religious identity of all the artists working on the synagogue pavements. In summation, the stylistic evidence from the late antique Galilean mosaic pavements supports the notion that a Hellenistic style was readily accepted among Galilean Jews. The similarity of imagery in various mosaics and across media points to the availability of model books. Those model books provided sketches that were used in the creation of the images on the plaster that was to receive the tesserae. The painting on the top layer of plaster gave rise to the lively, naturalistic style displayed in some of the finished pavements. In such an environment it is not a great leap to envision drawings on parchment executed in the same naturalistic style, drawings destined to accompany the text of a book. Could there not have been such drawings devised specifically to accompany a Hebrew version of the book of Psalms? I would answer yes. The acceptance of a Hellenistic style among Jews in the Galilee is borne out by the sculptural evidence as well. As discussed in the previous chapter on Galilee, the rabbis were not particularly hostile toward sculpture, as long as the figures were not worshipped.80 This rabbinic attitude gave a kind of permission to the local Jewish inhabitants to accept the statuary in public spaces. In the cities with major Jewish populations, such as Sepphoris and Tiberias, Hellenistic-style sculpture could be found everywhere, in the bathhouses frequented by Jews as well as in the basilicas.81 Some of the facades were enlivened with reliefs, and the arches and fountains displayed three-dimensional sculpture.82 On the coinage of Sepphoris and Tiberias, gods and goddesses such as Zeus, Hera, Athena, and Hygieia were depicted, some stationed within the portals of basilicas.83 In Sepphoris, archaeologists uncovered fragmentary

138 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

remains consisting of simple body parts—hands, thighs, and part of a lower torso.84 The figures are well-modeled and show a careful attention to form and surface. Hence, literary and archaeological evidence reveals that life-size, three-dimensional marble, bronze, or wooden mythological figures, as well as relief sculpture, were present in the environment of the Jews who lived in these cities.85 They walked those streets and visited the bathhouses adorned with statuary. They used the coins that depicted gods and goddess. They did not have to feel that the pagan statuary interfered with Jewish life as practiced in the Galilean milieu. The presence of this public statuary is one of the indicators that the Jews in these Roman cities, and especially the aristocrats, accepted Hellenism, or, at the very least, felt little antagonism to it.86 These Jews demonstrated a desire to participate in Roman urban culture, especially when the statuary was not of the kind that was worshipped. The statuary discovered in the necropolis at Beth Sheʿarim supplements our knowledge of the extent to which figurative art, some under pagan influence, was propagated among Jews.87 This large burial site was revered by Jews in Palestine and the diaspora as the burial place of sages, one of whom was the renowned Rabbi Judah, editor of the Mishnah. Several of those interred there were members of the Jewish urban elite or synagogue officials.88 None would have been dissenters or suspected of heresy. Yet within those tombs, in addition to Jewish symbols, we find not only statues representing human figures and animals, but also motifs taken from Greek mythology, among which are a winged putto, a female exposing one breast, a nude youth extending his hand toward a horse, and a seated figure wearing a crown.89 One of the most astonishing finds is a sarcophagus representing Zeus in the guise of the

winged swan approaching the nude Leda to rape her (pl. 6). This sarcophagus gives evidence of having been reused, but its very presence in the tomb where important rabbis were buried is remarkable.90 Leda stands on her toes with her legs pressed together as the swan’s beak moves toward her lips as if to kiss her. She tries to push the bird away, her right hand placed against his neck. In her left hand she holds a cloak with which she shields the lower part of her body. Between the legs of the swan is a basket with figs, and behind the bird is a fig tree. According to one version of the myth, Leda was surprised by the bird when picking figs.91 The other side of the sarcophagus shows the faint remains of a facade, horses, and some nude male figures, but most of them are badly destroyed.92 The Leda sarcophagus is obviously a work of Hellenistic inspiration, and was, no doubt, initially a pagan coffin. However, it was in a place that included tombs of Jewish patriarchs and sages. As such it is another example of the more liberal approach to figurative art from the third to the fifth century.93 The archaeological material at Beth Sheʿarim shows that the Jews of Roman Palestine decorated their tombs with animated carved pagan figures. These motifs are found in a setting where the menorah and the Torah shrine are depicted.94 Nothing remotely similar had appeared previously, with the possible exception of the deities represented on coins from Sepphoris and Tiberias from the second and the early third century.95 The presence of this statuary provides solid evidence that those buried at Beth Sheʿarim had been integrated into the contemporary Roman world, and it demonstrates the extent to which Hellenistic figurative art was accepted in Palestine.96 With the Leda sarcophagus and the fragments of marble coffins from catacomb no. 20, it becomes clear that Jews did not regard

these pagan mythological figures as dangerous cult objects. They saw them rather as literary or artistic expressions of the contemporary culture. Beth Sheʿarim is not the only place where pagan sculpted figures have been found in a Jewish religious context. Mythological creatures such as griffins, centaurs, Medusas, and Capricorns are represented in the synagogues of Capernaum and Chorazim.97 These decorations connect synagogue art to Roman art and are another indication that Jews were familiar with the classical visual repertoire, the repertoire frequently employed in the Utrecht Psalter. The material cited above shows that those who oversaw the creation of the sculpture at the synagogues of Capernaum and Chorazim and at Beth Sheʿarim not only had an affinity for a Hellenistic style but also accepted elements of Greco-Roman iconography.98 The economic conditions prevailing from the third through the early fifth century in Galilee and outlined in the last chapter promoted the acceptance of statuary in the Greco-Roman mode, whether in synagogues, homes, or even a funerary context. This acceptance of classical imagery, some of it executed in a Hellenistic style, is a further indication that late antique Galilee could well have served as the setting for the creation of the Utrecht Psalter model. There are, however, arguments against the existence of a late antique illustrated Hebrew book of Psalms. Scholars have pointed out that none of the surviving written sources mention illustrated Jewish books, whereas illustrated Christian biblical books are referenced in numerous places.99 However, rabbinic sources are also nearly silent about mural paintings and mosaics in synagogues, and they both existed. There are only three mentions of wall paintings or of mosaic “designs” in the literature of this period. “In the days of Rabbi Yohanan (third

Style of the Utrecht Psalter · 139

century) they began to paint on walls, and he did not object. In the days of R. Abun (first half of the fourth century) they began to make designs on mosaics, and he did not object.” And further, “‘When you go [to the synagogue] . . . do not bow down as you are accustomed to (so as not to appear to be bowing to the images decorating the floor of the synagogue).’”100 Though there are only these few oblique references to a mosaic floor or a mosaic “design,” many examples of such mosaics exist. Furthermore, Jewish literature of this period never mentions figurative mosaics, though such mosaics have been uncovered in many synagogues and/or Jewish houses in late Roman Palestine, and it can only be concluded that more examples existed. The synagogue mosaics were, of course, in places where large numbers of people could view them, and one would have thought that their presence in a sacred space, as well as the content of their imagery, would have aroused a good deal of attention, so that more than a couple of references to their existence could be expected. How much less likely is it that a written source would have commented upon an illustrated manuscript kept in the privacy of the home of a wealthy patron? It is easy to see that such a book had little chance of being mentioned in written sources, for it would not have been widely visible. It is readily apparent that some stylistic elements in the Utrecht Psalter are not found in the mosaics. First of all, many of the drawings in the manuscript exhibit a kind of active, spontaneous line that is the product of a skillful handling of the pen. That dynamic, expressive line is characteristic of the Reims drawing style and was not present in a model. Furthermore, the Utrecht figures display hunched shoulders, jutting chins, and prominent eyebrows—stylistic details developed in the Carolingian milieu. We

find none of that in the mosaics, nor would they have been in a model. However, one can see from the comparisons made above that, in general, what has been called a Hellenistic style was practiced in thirdthrough early fifth-century Roman Palestine. As shown, the general aspects of this Hellenistic style could very well have characterized a model for the Utrecht Psalter. Though the different media—mosaic, sculpture, and drawing—present different possibilities and challenges, I would argue that the stylistic evidence from thirdthrough early fifth-century Galilee supports the possibility that the model for the Utrecht Psalter was created in that milieu. I believe that an illustrated copy of the Psalms in Hebrew was made under the patronage of a Jew wealthy enough to have afforded the funding of such a rich, magnificent manuscript. On the basis of the textual analysis of the Psalms, it is clear that the team creating the work and/or the sage serving as adviser must have been well versed in the stories in the Midrash on Psalms, for midrashic interpretations often clarify pictorial motifs that otherwise could not be fully understood. One cannot conclude this discussion of style without speculating as to the format of a possible late antique illustrated Hebrew version of the Psalms. The first question one might ask is, would the collection of Psalms have originally been in the form of a scroll or a codex?101 On the one hand, scrolls were the favored format among Jews for religious texts until at least the eighth century. The first time the codex is mentioned among Jews is by R. Yehudai Gaon, head of the Yeshiva in Sura in Babylonia from 757 to 761.102 On the other hand, we saw that Hellenized Jews adopted non-Jewish customs in surprising ways, even to the extent of depicting a classical figure like Helios on their synagogue

140 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

pavements. So there is no way to know if a patron of an illustrated late antique Hebrew version of the Psalms would have commissioned a work in the traditional scroll format or in the newer form of a codex. We have some information about the material aspect of unillustrated ancient psalm scrolls because of the numerous examples from Qumran and the Judean desert. One of the best preserved is the so-called Psalms Scroll discovered at Qumran in what came to be known as Cave 11.103 Like most of the other Qumran scrolls, it is of animal skin worked into parchment.104 The text is written in columns, thirty-four of which are preserved. The sheets of the scroll were sewn together with thread, some of which disintegrated in the unrolling process.105 Given that thirty-nine scrolls of the Psalms were among the texts found at Qumran, and several of them were made elsewhere, one can assume that, at least through the second century CE , unillustrated psalm scrolls of this sort circulated in Roman Palestine. What we can glean from these scrolls is that they were made of good-quality parchment that took the ink well, permitting the creation of a clear, elegant script. Such materials and methods would also have allowed for the making of good-quality pen-and-ink drawings. Thus in late antique Galilee the conditions could have been present for the creation of a model consisting of drawings accompanying the Hebrew psalms. If one hypothesizes that the original illustrated version of the Hebrew psalms was in scroll form, one would have to surmise that the scroll destined to display the images would have had to be ruled appropriately—that is, the scribe would have had to leave spaces for the motifs. A number of early scrolls displayed a format that reflects images placed within a column,

sometimes in the center of the column, sometimes within the right side of the column, and sometimes within the left side. This has been dubbed the papyrus style.106 Like the Utrecht illustrations, the motifs prepared for scrolls usually are not painted, nor do they have frames around them. When illustrated scrolls were converted to codices, the artists lifted one or several columns, with their images, onto the page of the codex.107 Numerous Carolingian manuscripts bear witness to this adaptation to codex form.108 Copies of late antique manuscripts known in Reims and reflecting this format include the Bern Physiologus, considered to be a copy of a late antique original with motifs illustrating the text placed in the margins or within the column of the text; the Madrid AstronomicalComputistical Manual, also dependent on late antique predecessors; and the Leiden Prudentius, the didactic poem Psychomachia, with a text dating from 405 to 410. They have unframed images (though in the Bern, some of the images are framed), and the drawings are placed between the text columns. Spaces were left blank by the scribes for the artists to insert the imagery.109 A hypothetical illustrated Hebrew version of the Psalms could have gone through a similar trajectory, beginning as a scroll that had small motifs placed within the columns of the text or at the top or bottom. Another possibility is that the Hebrew psalms were originally illustrated with brief scenes drawn in the margins. In such a case, the scribe who ruled the parchment would have allowed for more space in the margins so that the motifs could be placed next to the texts they illuminate, rather than within the columns themselves. An example of such a format is present in the Alexandrian World Chronicle (fol. VI, Pushkin Museum, Moscow) where the emperor, the

Style of the Utrecht Psalter · 141

bishop, and the Serapeion are superimposed one atop the other in the margin.110 Another late antique work with illustrations in the margins is the Rabbula Gospels (586), where brief scenes have been placed on either side of the Canon Tables.111 Though the Rabbula scenes do not flank a text, they do bear witness to a tradition of marginal illustration dating back to the sixth century. Dufrenne supports the view that the Utrecht Psalter motifs were once just such marginal illustrations and that they were far richer than they are now.112 A clue as to a possible pre–ninth-century version of the Psalms with marginal illustrations has been offered by Herbert Kessler. He noticed a particular motif drawn in the margins of the ninth-century Byzantine Sacra Parallela.113 The motif illustrates a verse from Psalm 106/107: 23–24 (fol. 207r). The psalm verses are part of a quote by John Chrysostom.114 The phrase reads, “Those who go down to the sea in ships.” The verse is illustrated in the Utrecht Psalter by two manned boats floating in the water. Two similar boats are found in the margins of the Sacra Parallela.115 In the bottom boat in the Sacra Parallela is a boatman with his body facing the viewer, his head turned to the rear, and his right arm lifted at a ninety-degree angle. Illustrating the same psalm in the Utrecht Psalter is a comparable boatman front and center in the image (fol. 62v). In the Utrecht Psalter drawing he is grasping what may be an oar. In the Sacra Parallela he holds nothing. There is enough similarity in the scenes to suggest that the motifs in both the Sacra Parallela and the Utrecht Psalter depend on the same model. The date of the model (late antique?), and its place of origin—“Syro-Palestine,” where Weitzmann places the model for the Sacra Parallela—cannot be determined. Nevertheless, the similarity leads one to speculate as to whether or not the motifs

in the Utrecht Psalter, like those in the Sacra Parallela, once were separate small images near the text they illustrate. Though to my mind this seems like a possibility, there is no way to prove it at this time. If one extrapolates from Weitzmann’s well-accepted theory of how the motifs were brought together into rectangular compositions, and if one applies this to the Utrecht Psalter, then the following possibility suggests itself. At some point motifs in the columns or margins of an illustrated Hebrew text of the Psalms would have been brought together into one unframed composition. This assemblage could have happened in late antiquity.116 Such a task was no small accomplishment. If one speculates for a moment, one would hypothesize that the artist who brought the motifs together had to form the pleasing compositions characteristic of the Utrecht Psalter, yet the drama unfolding in each psalm had to be emphasized. For instance, the psalmist had to be shown as pleading toward the symbol of the deity, which, originally, was the hand of God; his armed adversaries had to be positioned to strike him; the work of the good men or women had to be highlighted; and so on. At some point in the assemblage, landscapes and seascapes had to be added to unify the compositions. Trees or bushes would have been placed among the motifs, as in Roman painting. These compositions would have been left without borders, and no paint applied. It is possible that the motifs illustrating a Hebrew version of the Psalms might have followed this trajectory. The vignettes that are now within the compositions of the Utrecht Psalter could have originated as brief scenes in the columns or margins of a Hebrew version of the Psalms. At some point in late antiquity they could have been brought together into the unframed rectangular compositions that now

142 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

characterize the Carolingian manuscript. We cannot know if such an assemblage occurred, but if the ninth-century artists were copying from sheets that were not attached to the psalm text, as Van der Horst suggests, then the assemblage would have taken place before the sheets appeared at Reims. There, after some initial confusion, the compositions on the loose sheets were placed above the appropriate Latin text of the psalm. It would have been in the Carolingian setting that any Christological elements were added to the illustrations, as were the ninth-century weapons, armor, musical instruments, and other Carolingian details. The question of what may have been the ultimate form of the model for the Utrecht Psalter is complex and suggests many avenues for further scholarly research. The issue of the form of the model for the Utrecht illustrations deserves an in-depth study in its own right, a study that is not the goal of this book. My interest has been to show the relationship between the Hebrew text and the motifs that accord with it in the Utrecht Psalter illustrations, and in connecting the style of those illustrations to late antique Galilee.

Style of the Utrecht Psalter · 143

Conclusions Viewing the Utrecht Psalter illustrations in the twenty-first century, one cannot help seeing the figures as actors performing the scenes of a script. The actors “talk” with their gestures and body movements, and they interact with other players in the scenes. The Temple, the palaces, and the city walls and gates, provide the background. Celestial or demonic forces inhabit the sky or the netherworld. The whole is arranged among hills and valleys, the imagined landscape where the events take place. The actors, the architectural settings, and the props are clearly arranged on this “stage,” but unlike in a traditional stage space, here the brief scenes are placed all across the picture surface in a more or less rectangular space. Until now scholars have been of the opinion that the Carolingian artists were inspired by a late antique model based on the Latin text. I have been questioning that consensus, for it is now clear that numerous motifs in the illustrations depend only on the Hebrew, rather than on the Latin, words. Since only the Hebrew text can illuminate many motifs, it is logical to conclude that the illustrations were meant to accompany a Hebrew version of the Psalms. In what format could those Hebrew psalms have been presented? A number of the fragments of the Psalms from Qumran indicate that the Dead Sea Scrolls, like other Jewish religious materials, were set down in scroll form. In fact, it

appears that until the eighth century all Jewish religious texts were written on scrolls. Long ago Weitzmann showed that when ancient and late antique scrolls had pictures, the images were placed in the margins or columns of the text, next to the words they illustrate. Certain Carolingian manuscripts display that format. That this “papyrus style” format characterized an original Hebrew illustrated text of the Psalms is a possibility. There is some evidence for this theory. In at least one case, on fol. 207r of the Sacra Parallela, the representation of boats and boatmen in the margins of a text that refers to Psalm 106 is very similar to the boatmen in the illustration accompanying that same psalm in the Utrecht Psalter. Both “boatmen” motifs may depend on the same model. This is, I believe, a clue that the Utrecht motifs may, like those in the Sacra Parallela, have originated as marginal or column pictures placed near the verses they illustrate. At some point the brief column or marginal pictures were brought together into rectangular compositions. Similar adaptations had been made for other “papyrus style” manuscripts that were altered for the codex format. There is another argument for the psalm illustrations having been first executed as marginal vignettes. In the Talmudic age the oral tradition of Jewish commentary on the biblical text was being transformed into written collections,

collections set down in the Mishnah and in various Midrashim. Like those in the Midrashim, marginal illustrations accompanying the Psalms also can be seen as an elaboration on the text. Hence, the idea of putting images that “comment on” the text into the margins coincides with an interest among scribes and scholars in developing a system of marginal commentaries for biblical text. The phrases picked for illustration—phrases decrying the greedy, the impious, the traitorous, and the gluttonous, as well as praising the devout and learned—reflect the comments articulated by the rabbis in the stories of the Midrash on Psalms. I have explored where a model, with its illusionistic, Hellenistic style, and classical personifications and architectural structures, could have been created. I am persuaded that the most logical place of origin was late antique Galilee. After the defeat of Jerusalem in the Roman offensives of 70 and 135 CE , many Jews fled to the Galilee and eventually established a thriving economy in the region. In fact, in the second through the fourth century Galilee saw an economic boom that encouraged a flourishing artistic, cultural, and religious environment. Teams of mosaicists populated the region, moving throughout Roman Palestine in bands and executing pavements in both secular and religious buildings. Many of the synagogue floors they worked on were figurative, and a number of those biblically inspired scenes were set in rectangular compositions just as they are in the Utrecht Psalter. These synagogue mosaics contain “historical” narratives as well as scenes of daily life. They exhibit a great choice of subjects, and, like the Utrecht Psalter, make use of iconography from classical art. Since specific motifs recur at site after site, it is clear that the artists used model books that contained these drawings. I propose that it is a short step from the sketches in model

books to the creation of fuller and more complex illustrated manuscripts. The artists working in the Galilee likewise exhibited their skills in sketching the underdrawings for the mosaics. The sketches were done on two layers of the plaster surfaces. On the lower layer they sketched the general outlines. On the upper layer they drew the more precise details of form and shading. In this way the artists prepared the plaster surface for the placement of the mosaic tesserae. Some of these underdrawings resulted in the carefully outlined and well-modeled forms characteristic of a number of the Hellenistic-style Galilean mosaics. Such drawing skills were transferable to other media. For instance, we have evidence that some of the motifs were used to decorate silver. I propose that the drawing skills could also have been transferred to the creation of an illustrated manuscript. Working with a sage as an adviser, one of those artists could have developed and executed the motifs that illustrate the verses of the Psalms. I believe that such a manuscript could readily have been made in one of the towns of late antique Galilee. Not only were artists available in the Galilee, wealthy patrons were present as well. The region’s economic prosperity in the third and fourth centuries gave rise to patrons who profited not only from the region’s wealth but also from the expansion of literacy. In the Galilee one finds educated Jews who had the funds to decorate their homes and synagogues with elaborate mosaics. The inscriptions in Galilean synagogues reveal that these educated Jews acted as patrons for the synagogue pavements. Such a patron could also have been available to commission an illustrated version of the Hebrew psalms. The Galilean Jews in the urban centers were surrounded by Greco-Roman art. Some of that statuary is alluded to in rabbinic texts.

146 · h e b rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

Since statues of the gods and goddesses were not meant to be worshipped, the rabbis determined, their presence was generally accepted. Mythological figures in sculpted form and on coinage were part of the ambiance. Prestigious rabbis and patriarchs were buried in catacombs where marble statues and reliefs of animals, humans, and mythological figures, some of them nude, were present. Both the sculpture and many of the Galilean mosaic pavements featured figures and objects executed in a Hellenistic style. As has long been recognized, a Hellenistic style and a classical iconography are characteristic of the Utrecht Psalter. In the ninth-century manuscript, some of these classical figures were transformed into personifications of positive qualities such as truth, mercy, justice, and peace (Psalm 42/43, Psalm 84/85). In other cases, the statues of Roman deities were transmogrified into idols depicted negatively—with hornlike appendages or spikes coming from their heads (Psalms 81/82, 85/86, 78/79, 94/95, 113/114–15). Sometimes the Roman figures were neutral, merely personifications of places, such as river gods (Psalms 1, 32/33, 57/58, 97/98) or the female mother goddess, who, with her cornucopia, represented the earth or the fullness of the world (Psalms 49/50, 89/90, 101/102). The Greco-Roman sun god, Helios, is given a variety of meanings, from a signifier of place or of time (Psalm 1) to an actual “actor” in the scene (Psalm 18/19). Given the descriptions of the urban public statuary in late antique Jewish sources, as well as the figures that appear on coinage, and the classical imagery in the mosaics and catacombs, one can be sure that the classical figures seen in the Utrecht Psalter could easily have reflected models in the Galilean milieu. Not only do numerous motifs reflecting the Greco-Roman ambiance turn up in the Utrecht Psalter. Many motifs find analogues in Jewish

art of the Galilee or in the wall paintings of the synagogue of Dura Europos. A charioteer driving four horses and riding above the clouds is a figure that appears in several Galilean synagogue mosaics, and a very similar motif is present at the top of the illustration to Psalm 67/68. As I discuss in my commentary on that psalm, the charioteer is based on the Roman Sol Invictus. This figure in the Jewish context has been interpreted in numerous ways, but one interpretation is that it is a symbolic analogue for God himself. As I demonstrate, the charioteer resembling the Roman Sol Invictus could easily have found its place in a Jewish illustrated version of the Psalms. The wheel of the zodiac is another image that is shared by the Galilean synagogue mosaics and the Utrecht Psalter (Psalm 64/65). This motif also derives from Roman iconography. However, the ninth-century manuscript has one specific detail in common with a Jewish representation. In the zodiac wheel of both the Utrecht Psalter and the mosaic of Hammat Tiberias, the figure of Virgo (Betulah in Hebrew) holds aloft a lighted torch. That attribute is not found in Roman representations of Virgo. In the Jewish context, however, a lighted torch in the hand of Virgo represents the autumnal harvest festival of Sukkoth, when, according to the Mishnah, men danced in the streets with lighted torches. Thus not only does the zodiac wheel in the Utrecht Psalter reflect a common motif in late antique synagogue pavements, but also, in both the manuscript and the Hammat Tiberias mosaic, the female zodiacal figure corresponding to September holds a torch, an unusual attribute for Virgo. The synagogue mosaics have representations of the four seasons in the corners surrounding the zodiac wheel. Two of the seasons pictured in the manuscript, Winter and Summer, are also

Conclusions · 147

present in the Utrecht Psalter. In my commentary on Psalm 73/74 I show that the Hebrew text of that psalm accords with the Utrecht illustration more accurately than does the Vulgate or Gallican text, which does not mention Winter (horef in Hebrew) and Summer, but rather Spring (ver in Latin) and Summer. It is Winter, with its appropriate long animal-skin garment, that appears in the Utrecht image, in accord with the Hebrew text. At any rate, the depiction of the seasons could well have been present in an illustrated Hebrew manuscript. At the top or the sides of many of the Psalter’s compositions hover angelic creatures. They protect the devout with their wings, castigate the evil ones with their whips, or damn the wicked with their fiery bolts. Winged angel-like figures also appear in the murals of the synagogue of Dura Europos. As representations of “spirit,” or as angelic figures endowing the lifeless with “breath,” they descend toward the reconstituted human forms in the paintings of the visions of Ezekiel. Another example of Jewish art reflected in the Utrecht Psalter can be observed in the scenes of a priest before an altar in front of the Temple. The altar has a sacrifice upon it, and other sacrificial animals are approaching (Psalm 4, Psalm 53/54). That formula reminds us of the Dura wall painting of Aaron presiding before an altar with sacrificial animals standing nearby or lying on top of the altar. The now partially destroyed panel at Sepphoris represented the same event. In addition to the altar and the animals, a priest was there as well, for the bells at the hem of Aaron’s garment can still be seen in the lower part of the mosaic. The Utrecht Psalter illustrations have about thirty examples of the hand of God emanating from a cloud above. This same motif is found in the representation of the binding of Isaac in the Beth Alpha synagogue mosaic as well as in the

scenes of Ezekiel’s vision and the binding of Isaac on the walls of the Dura Europos synagogue. Prophets holding scrolls or books can be found throughout the ninth-century manuscript and are present in the Dura murals as well. The Dura paintings and the Utrecht Psalter also share images of kings enthroned or being anointed, and of soldiers fighting battles, though the weapons and armor reflect those of the third and the ninth century, respectively. Though in some instances at Dura the garments are in accord with the local Persian modes of dress, other figures are clothed in Greco-Roman attire, as are those in the Utrecht Psalter. Prophets, sages, and the devout in the illustration wear midcalf tunics with enveloping mantles; soldiers, youths, and ordinary men wear shorter garments. The dominant Greco-Roman art that embraced so much of the Mediterranean world and beyond stood at the core of late antique Jewish art. That is what accounts for the great similarity in these dress styles and iconographic formulae. Until the last decade or so, the surviving examples of late antique Jewish biblical imagery were quite limited. Scholars were generally reluctant to entertain the possibility that there was a Jewish iconographic tradition stemming from that period. Even before the recent discoveries at Wadi Hamam and Huqoq, however, a couple of scholars did point to clues that there had been a repertoire of late antique Jewish imagery.1 They pointed to the fact that though there are great stylistic differences between Sepphoris and Beth Alpha, the binding of Isaac scene in both synagogues has the same elements: the two youths with the ass, the ram tied to the tree, and the binding of Isaac. As Weiss has pointed out, in both synagogues the two youths appear in frontal view, and the ass appears in profile.2 One youth stands before the ass and holds the reins, while the other stands next to the ass in the background. What is more, the ram at Sepphoris

148 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

is tied to the tree with a red rope, as is the ram at Beth Alpha. The incorporation of such a motif as the red rope suggests that a common rabbinic source was behind these two representations. Kessler proposed that these similarities might imply that there was an established Jewish iconography.3 The recently uncovered mosaics at Wadi Hamam and Huqoq have proved him right. The strong relationship between the “Tower of Babel” scenes at Wadi Hamam and Huqoq argues for just such an established Jewish iconographic tradition. And the similarity of the motifs in the scenes of “Pharaoh’s Drowning Soldiers” in both synagogues further supports the contention that artists were working out of the same tradition. The nine examples of synagogue mosaics that once displayed the Helios, Zodiac, and Seasons imagery, though not narrative, further support the idea that a Jewish iconographic tradition existed. Thus, the newly discovered mosaics of Wadi Hamam and Huqoq add considerably to the repertoire of Jewish imagery, and, as we have seen, even illuminate some of the cryptic iconography in the Utrecht Psalter. They also provide more evidence for imagery composed of well-modeled, Hellenistic-style motifs placed on different levels and organized in a rectangular space such as we have in the Carolingian manuscript. Even though no surviving documents reference Jewish illustrated books or scrolls, I maintain that there is a good chance they existed. From the surviving texts alone, one could never have believed that so many figurative mosaic pavements adorned Galilean synagogues. There is only one brief reference to mosaics in the Jewish literature of the time, and that is to “designs,” not to figures: “In the days of R. Abun (first half of the fourth century) they began to make designs on mosaics, and he did not object.”4 In spite of this near-total silence about mosaicists, we know that numerous mosaic

pavements, a number of them figurative, were present in Galilee alone. Many of them were in synagogues, where large numbers of people could see them. How much less likely is it that a written source would preserve the mention of an illustrated manuscript that found its place only in the private home of a wealthy individual? If one went solely by the written sources one would never have suspected that the spectacular mosaic pavements of the Galilean synagogues existed. Hence, the lack of textual references is not an argument against the existence of Jewish illustrated manuscripts. Obviously, with so many synagogues commissioning mosaic floors, the role of the artist must have been familiar to ordinary Jews. Rabbis also mentioned artists in the Midrash. There they speak of them as hardworking craftsmen who drew and painted in many pigments of various hues.5 One can assume that some of these artists mentioned in the Jewish sources worked on wall paintings. But could not some of them have painted manuscripts as well? I have proposed that some of the Christological scenes in the Utrecht Psalter are not additions, but rather reinterpretations of motifs that were present in the model dependent on the Hebrew text. For instance, in the illustration to Psalm 15/16 we see a figure lying in a tomb. In the Christian context that figure is seen as reflecting the Latin verse 9: “Therefore my heart hath been glad, and my tongue hath rejoiced: moreover my flesh also shall rest in hope.” Augustine and other church fathers understood this verse as relating to Christ speaking in the voice of the human nature he assumed. It is perhaps because of this Christological reading that the Carolingian artists felt comfortable giving the figure in the tomb a Christian interpretation: in the Psalter illustration the three Marys approach the tomb with Jesus lying inside, his flesh “rest[ing] in hope.” However, according Conclusions · 149

to the Gospels (Mark 16:1–18; Matt. 28:1–10), Jesus’s tomb was empty when the three Marys approached. So the Utrecht image is inaccurate.6 The Midrash on Psalms gives us the original Jewish interpretation of the figure lying in the tomb, an interpretation that is consistent with the Hebrew text and with the Jewish view of the meaning of the psalm. In the Midrash, the text of Psalm 16:9 is understood as being in the voice of David: “My heart rejoices and my soul is elated, my body too, rests secure.” The Midrash goes on to tell us that David’s body does not turn to dust, and the worms had no power over it. In the version of the drawing accompanying the Hebrew text it was David’s body that was lying in the tomb, not Christ’s.7 Hence, a few of the eight or so Christological scenes that Dufrenne sees as additions were most likely present in the original Hebrew manuscript as illustrations of the life of David (or Esther), only to be reinterpreted by the Carolingian artists and given a new, Christian meaning. The other Christian addition, of course, is the figure of Christ that replaced or is added to the Jewish motif of the hand of God. One of the Carolingian artists made another interpolation, this one in accord with the Latin text. In the illustration to Psalm 13/14, he has included a sepulcher and an asp, neither of which is mentioned in the Hebrew version of Psalm 13/14. These two iconographic elements, however, occur in the Vulgate and Gallican versions of Psalm 13/14:3.8 The mention of the sepulcher is reflected by the open tomb in front of the woman and children. The “venom of asps” is reflected in the asps twisting around the columns of the domed structure on the left. These motifs present in the Gallican text of the Utrecht Psalter inspired the Carolingian artist (or some intermediary artist working from the Gallican or Vulgate text) to include the sarcophagus and

the vipers in the illustration of the psalm. Since Latin Psalm 13:3 includes metaphors that were not present in the Hebrew text, they naturally would not have been present in any Hebrew illustrated model. Psalm 52/53, which has a similar text to Psalm 13/14 (but without the interpolated metaphors), has an analogous illustration, with the exception of the “open sepulcher” and the “vipers” on the columns. Hence in addition to the Psalter displaying the substitution of Jesus for the hand of God, and those Christological scenes that were not reinterpretations from the Esther or Davidic iconography, in Psalm 13/14 we find two motifs that could not have been in a Hebrew model. The Canticles (fols. 83v–87v) and the ecclesiastical texts at the end of the Utrecht Psalter (fols. 88r–90v) are stylistically different from the 150 Psalms. The Canticles accompany excerpts from the Hebrew Bible: texts from Isaiah, 1 Samuel, Exodus, Habakkuk, Deuteronomy, and Moses. The final folios, 88r–91v, contain ecclesiastical texts and their illustrations (Te Deum, Gloria, Pater Noster, Credo, Fides Catholica, and the apocryphal Psalm 151). Dufrenne has correctly detected that the illustrations for the Canticles and the ecclesiastical texts were not part of the original model but were added during the ninth century.9 She makes the observation that the compositions accompanying these images allow one to discern the role of a Carolingian artist who is not following a late antique model. The ninth-century artist mechanically installed the figures within rectangular spaces defined for the most part by rocks and trees. He does not animate the groups with any subtlety, but renders the figures isocephalically. And very little sense of the third dimension is apparent. Inspired by the Psalter illustrations, he introduced briefly rendered architectural forms. Van der Horst suggests that the added

150 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

Christological scenes in folios 83v–87v could have been done on the basis of motifs in the Psalter itself or been inspired by an illustrated Christian cycle.10 The Canticles and the final ecclesiastical texts are not pertinent to this study. Given the new material I have presented, however, I suggest that their illustrations deserve a separate, in-depth examination taking into account all recent research. There is no disagreement that this illustrated book of Psalms is a masterpiece. What I have tried to do is tease out something about the origins of this masterpiece, and, in particular, the language upon which the imagery was dependent. Now that it is apparent that many of the motifs in the Psalms rely on the Hebrew text or Jewish commentary, I hope that future scholars will undertake new paths of research. Those who originally devised and set down the images accompanying the Psalms had to ask themselves: what is David saying; whom is he saying it about; and what objects and figures best reflect the story or communicate the deep emotions expressed in the verses. The Midrash on Psalms reveals how the rabbis gave various answers to those questions. They interpreted each verse in a multiplicity of ways. They tell the reader, Do not read it this way, read it this way.11 That openness to a variety of interpretations for each phrase, nay, for each word, is also apparent in the way the late antique artist (or artists) worked. Just as the rabbis took it upon themselves to explain the text in various ways, so the artist (or artists) could give free rein to their interpretive powers. As I have shown in my commentaries on the illustrations, when a word could be understood in two or three different ways, the artist would choose the meaning that best lent itself to a literal visual rendering. If my hypothesis is accepted, it would be fruitful for scholars to examine the illustrations of the

Utrecht Psalter in an effort to determine the different ways the Hebrew words in the Psalms were understood in late antiquity. The way that some visual motifs in the Psalter are rendered shows the diverse textual meanings that were called upon, meanings perhaps more reflective of how the words were understood in late antiquity.12 The Utrecht imagery, in reflecting one meaning rather than the other, can serve as a guide to determining how some of the psalm verses might have been understood in late antiquity. Now that I have shown how many motifs depend only on the Hebrew text, scholars will have another reference point as they study the imagery of other early psalters. They can now discern the possible relationship between motifs in those psalters and the Hebrew text. Since it has long been recognized that the Christian typological imagery was inserted well after the original drawings were made, one can confidently assume that the earliest illustrations were dependent on the literal interpretation of the Hebrew text. If my hypothesis is accepted, scholars might be drawn to explore what the illustrations reveal about what the Psalms said to the Jews in Roman Palestine during this period. What did the readers or listeners of the time highlight, or what did they ignore? Were there many more vignettes that illustrated a scroll of Hebrew psalms, motifs that had to be dropped as a transition was made from a papyrus-style model to a codex format? Dufrenne makes that suggestion. She believes that a papyrus-style model would have had many more vignettes and that when the rectangular images were composed certain motifs had to be dropped. If her hypothesis is correct, a much fuller choice of motifs presented itself to an “intermediate” artist who was selective about which brief images to include.13

Conclusions · 151

A future scholar could also undertake to examine the Utrecht Psalter illustrations more fully in the light of the Aramaic version of the Psalms. Aramaic was the language spoken by many Jews in late antique Galilee. Not knowing Aramaic, I could work with only the annotated English translation of it. Scholars working with the original Aramaic may find that it can illuminate more of the Utrecht Psalter motifs. Furthermore, it is likely that additional research in Hebrew liturgy or poetry might cast more light on the pictorial imagery. New archaeological material may also illuminate as-yet unexplained motifs. The best examples of synagogue art reflective of the style, composition, and iconography of the Utrecht Psalter are found in synagogue pavements uncovered since 2010 in Khirbet Wadi Hamam and Huqoq. As more synagogue mosaics come to light, there is little doubt that stylistic and iconographic analogies with the Utrecht Psalter will present themselves. Hence, in summary, I contend that the ultimate source of the Utrecht Psalter illustrations was a late antique illustrated version of the Hebrew psalms. In support of this hypothesis I have cited numerous motifs that reflect only the Hebrew text. Sometimes the Hebrew explains a motif that is not referenced in the Latin text at all. And if neither the Hebrew nor the Latin version, nor the church fathers, can illuminate an image, it is often the midrashic commentary that elucidates it satisfactorily. There is a good possibility that the illustrated Hebrew version was created at the behest of a wealthy patron in one of the rich Greco-Roman towns in the Galilee. As with other Jewish religious writings, the illustrated Hebrew text could have been in scroll form, with motifs drawn in the margins or in the columns, and placed nearby the verses they illustrated. At some point, the brief scenes

would have been brought together into rectangular, unframed compositions. The Galilean artists, who were adept at sketching figures on the plaster beneath mosaics, could have been guided by the drawings in model books, part of the tools at hand. It is a short step from the sketches in model books to the creation of longer illustrated books or scrolls. These artists were part of the cultural ambiance of late antique Galilee. Their work was known to synagogue communities and religious scholars. In fact, their artistry is discussed in the Midrash. In the commentary on Psalm 18:32b one of the rabbis explicitly tells the reader to interpret the word “rock” in an alternate way. “Do not read ‘Neither is there any rock’ but Neither is there any artist (sayyar) like our God. The artist—he cannot draw in darkness; but the Holy One . . . can draw any figure in darkness. . . . The artist—he cannot draw figures in water; but the Holy One . . . can draw any figure in water. . . . The artist—he cannot paint unless he have many pigments, white, and black, and green, and red, and other hues; but the Holy One . . . makes an embryo out of a drop of white and out of a drop of red.”14 And the Midrash continues: “The artist—he can make nothing at all except by hard work; but the Holy One . . . He makes things by the mere breath of a word. . . . The artist—he cannot draw a figure all at once, only little by little; but the Holy One . . . He makes a figure . . . in one stroke. . . . The artist—he dies, but the creation of his hands endures. . . .”15 How surprised and, yes, confounded the rabbis would have been to learn in what form the work of one late antique artist endured—and how imagery reflective of the Hebrew psalms continues to evoke admiration and astonishment in our own time.

152 · h eb rew ps alm s a nd t he u tre ch t ps alter

Notes

I n t r oduc t ion 1. Sarna, On the Book of Psalms, 11–12; Brettler, “Kethuvim,” 1263; Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms,” 1265–69. Though some superscriptions include references to David, the actual texts of the Psalms do not mention him. The midrashic commentary, however, is replete with Davidic references. 2. Sanders, Dead Sea Psalms Scroll, 9. For the texts of the Dead Sea Psalms manuscript from Cave 11, the most complete of the surviving Qumran psalm manuscripts, see pp. 28–89. Sarna, On the Book of Psalms, 11–12; Eshel, “Bible in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” esp. 1852. 3. Utrecht Psalter (Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, MS 32). The imprint of the manuscript is Hautvillers: Abbey of Saint-Pierre. It is made of calfskin, and its dimensions range from 328–30 to 254–59 mm. The differences are accounted for because of trimming. See Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 25. Two digital versions of the images of the Utrecht Psalter can be found online. See Psalterium Latinum, Utrecht University Library, http://​objects.library.uu.nl/​reader/​index.php ?obj=1874-284427&lan=en#page//​11/​51/​45/​1151457 5807329943918974580038627186786.jpg/​mode/​1up; and “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” Utrecht University Library, http://​psalter.library.uu.nl. See also Dufrenne, Les illustrations; Koehler and Muetherich, Die karolingischen Miniaturen; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter.” For an alternative view on the date, see Chazelle, “Archbishops Ebo and Hincmar,” who proposed late 840s or early 850s.

4. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 36–38. The second translation was done in 386–87. Jerome’s third and final translation of the Psalter, this one directly from the Hebrew, is known as the Psalterium iuxta Hebraeos. See Jerome, Psalterium iuxta Hebraeos Hieronymi, ed. Harden. 5. As many as eight or nine artists may have worked on the illustrations of the 150 psalms. See “Table of Attribution” in Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 44–49, and the full discussion, 22–84. One illustration is placed above each of the psalms. The Canticles and other writings are illustrated at the end (fols. 83v–91v). I do not deal with them in this book. 6. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 55–81, esp. 72. 7. Van der Horst, 43–45. 8. Van der Horst shows that the draftsman began his work with a mistake and placed the drawing for Psalm 1 in the space intended for Psalm 2. Then he placed the drawings for Psalms 2 and 3 in the spaces intended for 3 and 4. The three drawings had to be erased and replaced with the correct ones. One result of this error was that Psalm 1 had to be inserted as a single leaf. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 43–44 and 48–49. For DeWald’s initial observations, see DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 5. 9. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 38 and 44. 10. Van der Horst, 44. 11. Benson and Tselos, “New Light on the Origins,” 12–79. Tselos later suggested that the model could have been a seventh- or eighth-century Byzantine reworking of a late antique model (“Defensive Addenda”). See also Panofsky, “Textual Basis of the Utrecht Psalter”; Dufrenne, Les

illustrations, 68, 151–54, 215–16, 218–19; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 73–84; Kessler, review of Tableaux synoptiques; Koehler and Muetherich, Die karolingischen Miniaturen, 35–39. 12. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 69–192. Dufrenne has assembled more than eighty examples of motifs from Roman and late antique sculpture, mosaics, and paintings that relate to or mirror the imagery in the Utrecht Psalter. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, figs. 1–69, 71, 78, 80, 83, 99, 100–102, 104, 108, 111, 115, 116. Certain parts of the armor have been shown to be Carolingian. Riesch, “‘Quod nullus in hostem’”; Chazelle, “Violence and the Virtuous Ruler”; Coupland, “Carolingian Arms and Armor,” 49–50. 13. The one exception is Birch, History, Art, and Paleography. Robert Howard Frankel in a master’s thesis, wrote that a few of the illustrations might ultimately be influenced by Hebrew literature, but not by the Hebrew text itself (Frankel, “Hebrew Literature Reflected”). For a review of the scholarly opinions that assume a Christian source, see Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 73–84. See also Corrigan, “Early Medieval Psalter Illustration,” 99. 14. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49. Dufrenne believes that eight psalms contain Christological scenes, and according to her two of those psalms (115/116 and 15/16) contain two New Testament motifs. I will show that some of those Christian scenes are reinterpretations of late antique motifs inspired by the Hebrew text, not Christological insertions. 15. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49. Those scenes are found in Psalms 15/16, 21/22, 33/34, 40/41, 73/74, 86/87, 88/89, and 115/116. I will propose, however, that at least three of those psalms, 15/16, 40/41, and 115/116, may have contained motifs that were not new insertions but rather were originally dependent on the Hebrew text and were adapted by the Carolingian artists to accord with a Christian meaning. I will also argue that the figure of Christ in the Utrecht Psalter is an insertion replacing or complementing the hand of God that would have been in the model. The Canticles and some Christian texts on folios 83v–91v are not part of the present study. They contain numerous Christological motifs. All the

154 · Notes to page 2

Christological scenes that Dufrenne sees as interpolations into the 150 psalms and the appended Canticles and Christian materials in folios 83v–91v are found in her Les illustrations, pl. 90, figs. 1–28. For a discussion of the theories about pictorial sources, see Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 67–81. For the inclusion of Carolingian military equipment, see Chazelle, “Violence and the Virtuous Ruler.” 16. For a review of the Weitzmann scholarship relating to the transmission of Jewish pictorial elements, see Kogman-Appel, “Bible Illustration and the Jewish Tradition,” 69–74. Early on Weitzmann published “Illustrations of the Septuagint.” There he pointed to several Jewish sources for illustrated Byzantine manuscripts that reflected the Dura Europos paintings, Jewish legends, or Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 2.9.7. See also Weitzmann, “Question of the Influence.” In 1876 Walter de Gray Birch cited two motifs that he thought might indicate that the pictures were produced to accompany a Hebrew text (History, Art, and Palaeography, 246 and 247 n. 1). In 1967 Frankel (“Hebrew Literature Reflected”) pointed to six or seven motifs that he suggested might have been influenced by the Midrash on Psalms. 17. Weitzmann, “Question”; Weitzmann and Bernabò, Byzantine Octateuchs. See also Kessler, “Judaism and the Development of Byzantine Art,” esp. 458. 18. Weitzmann, “Question,” 318–19. Weitzmann considered that the miniatures of the Octateuchs and the Vienna Genesis as well as the biblical representations that underlie the Sacra Parallela originated in Syrian and Palestinian territory (321). 19. Weitzmann and Kessler, Frescoes of the Dura Synagogue, 5–13 and 143–50. 20. For an extensive list, see Kogman-Appel, “Bible Illustration,” 70 n. 35. 21. Kogman-Appel lists those opposed to Weitzmann’s theory (70–71 n. 36, citing H. Strauss, J. Deckers, F. Rickert, H. Brandenburg, and R. Stichel). See also Gutmann, “Illustrated Jewish Manuscript in Antiquity,” esp. 233. Gutmann argues that Jewish legends reflected in Christian manuscripts do not

necessarily indicate a Jewish source, since patristic writings sometimes have the same legends (Gutmann, “Illustrated Midrash in the Dura Synagogue”). 22. Schubert, “Jewish Pictorial Traditions”; SedRajna, “Further Thoughts”; Kessler, “Codex Barbarus Scaligeri.” 23. Elsner, “Archaeologies and Agendas.” 24. Among those church fathers consulted in conjunction with this study are Augustine, Eusebius, Origen, Athanasius, Theodoret, Cassiodorus, John Chrysostom, Jerome, Basil, and Justin Martyr. 25. Psalm 38/39:6. The Hebrew reads: “Like handbreadths [tefachot] have you made my days, and my lifetime is as naught before you.” The Latin text does not mention “handbreadth”: Ecce mensurabiles posuisti dies meos, et substantia mea tamquam nihilum ante te. The illustration depicts a figure at the top, pointing to his right hand with his left, in accord with the Hebrew text. However, Theodoret does mention “handbreadths” (Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:234). 26. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 53–54. 27. I have consulted various translations of the psalms: Jewish Study Bible, 2nd ed., a Bible that features the Jewish Publication Society Tanakh translations; Living Nach; Feuer, Tehillim; Dahood, Psalms I–III; Hebrew-English Bible, Mechon Mamre. 28. I have used the translation of the Midrash on Psalms by William Braude. He in turn used an edition compiled by Salomon Buber in 1891. In addition to numerous manuscripts, Buber’s primary sources are the first printed editions issued in Constantinople (1512) and Saloniki (1515). See Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:xxx n. 34 for a list of manuscripts Braude consulted. For an overview of the literature relating to rabbinic and midrashic influence on early Jewish and early Christian art, see Kogman-Appel, “Bible Illustration,” 61–96. 29. Strack and Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash, 322–23. 30. Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:xii. 31. Braude, 1:xii. 32. Stec, Targum of Psalms.

33. Lange, “Revival of the Hebrew Language.” 34. Leibner and Miller, “Appendix”; see also Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 260–64. At least two mosaicists worked at Khirbet Wadi Hamam. 35. Leibner and Miller, “Appendix”; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 260–64. The work of two mosaicists survives, one working in a naturalistic style for the period. 36. For a more extensive analysis of the stylistic features of this mosaic pavement, see chapter 4. 37. Magness, “Huqoq, Preliminary Report”; Magness, “New Mosaics from Huqoq”; Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project.” See also Magness, cited in Williams, “Explore This Mysterious Mosaic.” 38. Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project”; Leibner and Miller, “Appendix”; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 260–64. 39. Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” fig. 33. 40. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 174. 41. Talgam, 174. 42. Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 272–75; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 174. 43. Midr. Teh., Ps. 18, sect. 26; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:257–58. 44. “In the days of Rabbi Yohanan (third century) they began to paint on walls, and he did not object. In the days of R. Abun (first half of the fourth century) they began to make designs on mosaics, and he did not object.” Jerusalem Talmud, ʿAvodah Zarah 3, 3, 42d; quoted in Levine, Visual Judaism, 427. 45. Grob, “Jews and Christians.” 46. Levine, Visual Judaism: for an overview, see 170–221, and on the mosaics in particular, see 317–62. On the general cultural vibrancy starting in the late third century, see Grob, “Jews and Christians,” 80–96.

Chapter 1 1. Benson and Tselos, “New Light”; Panofsky, “Textual Basis”; Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 68, 151–54, 215–16; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 73–84. One nineteenth-century scholar hinted at a non-Latin

Notes to pages 2–3 · 155

model: Birch, History, Art, and Palaeography. See my discussion of Psalm 57/58 for Birch’s observations. 2. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 5. To consult photos of the actual sepia images that can be greatly enlarged, see Psalterium Latinum, http://​objects.library.uu.nl/​reader/​index.php?obj =1874-284427&lan=en#page//​12/​30/​90/​123090682 512546590043265270593342313.jpg/​mode/​1up; and/​ or “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” Utrecht University Library, http://​psalter.library.uu.nl/. 3. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 44. He shows that the Gallican text must have been copied onto the folios first, and then the illustrations were added. 4. Van der Horst, 38–44, esp. 44. Van der Horst believes that the drawings were much earlier than the text and may have been in the form of loose sheets based on the earlier model. 5. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49. See my commentaries on Psalms 15/16 and 40/41 in chapter 2 for a discussion of the hypothesis that two of those Christological scenes were reinterpretations of Davidic iconography in a Jewish model. Additional Christological scenes were placed in the illustrations of the Canticles and other Christian prayers at the end of the Psalter, fols. 83v–90v. 6. For a discussion of the figure of Christ replacing the hand of God, see chapter 4. There are about thirty-four illustrations where the hand of God, a motif found in Jewish art, is drawn along with, or instead of, Jesus. 7. See chapter 3. 8. To view details of the illustrations, see “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” http://​psalter.library.uu.nl/. To view the folios, click in the center of the book. A small box will appear lower left, and the various folios can be seen at the bottom. Click on the arrow in the small box. “Navigate to a page” will come up. “Page” here means “folio.” Search for the folio you want to consult. Most sections of each image can be enlarged. Alternatively, see Psalterium Latinum, where the images can also be enlarged. 9. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 4; “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition” (this online

156 · Notes to pages 3–11

edition uses that standard Vulgate translation). I have consulted the Gallican text in the Utrecht Psalter as well, and I have noted any differences that relate to this study. 10. The root of the word used here, lutz, means “to scorn and to scoff.” Brown et al., Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon, #539, #3887, and #3944; henceforth BDB . 11. Midr. Teh., Ps. 1, sect. 9; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:12–13. 12. The Hebrew word for “scoffer/​scorner” in the Midrash is letsan, and its root (l-w-ṣ) is the same as the root for letsim, the term used in verse 1 for “scorner.” 13. Midr. Teh., Ps. 1, sect. 9; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:13. 14. The church fathers commenting on the use of the word “pestilentiae” generally assume it means a disease, or a harmful doctrine. Blaising and Hardin, Psalms 1–50, 3–6. Augustine references the serpent as having beguiled the “man of earth,” i.e., Adam and his wife. He does not connect it with the scoffer/​ scorner. Augustine, En. Ps. (Psalm 1), para. 1. Basil of Caesarea also calls pestilence a disease or an evil, but he does not mention serpents. Basil, “Psalm of the Lot,” 156–63. None of the other church fathers associate the wicked man with the serpent. Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:48–49; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:48. 15. Midr. Teh., Ps. 1, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:3. 16. Midr. Teh., Ps. 1, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:3. 17. One example is found in the Rossano Gospels (fol. 121r.), Museo dell’ Arcivescovado, Rossano. 18. Midr. Teh., Ps. 1, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:3. 19. BDB , 925–26, #3820, definition 9, f. 20. When discussing specific psalms for the rest of this commentary, I will use the number accompanying the Hebrew text. 21. See my commentaries on Psalms 18/19 and 67/68 in chapter 2; see also chapters 3 and 4. See also Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 36–40. In

addition to Hammat Tiberias and Sepphoris, parts of the Helios-Zodiac cycle still survive in Naʿaran, Beth Alpha, Huseifa, Susiya, Yaphiʿa, Wadi Hamam, and Huqoq. The newly uncovered Huqoq mosaic of the Helios-Zodiac cycle confirms the identification of the fragmentary remains at Yaphiʿa and Wadi Hamam. Sepphoris displays the sun instead of Helios. Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” 106 n. 59. 22. In the Hammat Tiberias mosaic the chariot has been destroyed except for the horses’ hooves. But see the chariot wheels and the horses’ legs in the Sepphoris synagogue mosaic, pl. 3. The chariot is also present in Beth Alpha, Naʿaran, and Huqoq. 23. For Christ/​Helios, see Carder, “Vault Decoration with Christ/​Helios.” For an image of Christ as Sol Invictus in a different context, flanked by the twenty-four elders, see the seventeenthcentury watercolor of the now-destroyed mosaic that was on the triumphal arch at St. Paul’s Outside the Walls in Rome. Kessler and Zacharias, Rome 1300, 166–67; Kessler, “Judaism,” 469. 24. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 112–13, 376, 378, and fig. 160; Foerster, “Beth-Shean”; Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis.” 25. See chapter 3. 26. For a partially nude Atlas (Psalm 98/99), see “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” fol. 57r, or Psalterium Latinum, fol. 57r. 27. Levine, Visual Judaism, 415, esp. n. 45. In one instance, rabbis state that a man should choose death rather than see a nude woman or even hear her voice. 28. Levine, 416. 29. Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis,” 128–32. Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” 96, fig. 33; 112, fig. 45; and 113, fig. 47. 30. Levine, Visual Judaism, 415–19. 31. Avigad, Beth Sheʿarim, 165–72. 32. Illustrated in Levine, Visual Judaism, 82, fig. 36. 33. Avigad, Beth Sheʿarim, 165–72; Levine, Visual Judaism, 124 and 417–18. 34. For the Pisces figure at Sepphoris, see Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, pl. III -10c. 35. See Psalms 40:3; 16:10; 49:16; 139:8. See also Isaiah 14:15.

36. Midr. Teh., Ps. 1, sect. 20; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:29. 37. Midr. Teh., Ps. 1, sect. 20; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:30. 38. Midr. Teh., Ps. 1, sect. 22; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:34. 39. Hirsch et al., “Demonology.” 40. See the discussion of demons in my analysis of Psalm 91:6 in chapter 2. 41. BDB , 993, #7700. 42. Midr. Teh., Ps. 91, sect. 3; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:102. 43. See my discussion of Psalm 18 in chapter 2. 44. BDB , 116, #1100. 45. Gaster, “Belial.” 46. See Psalm 18, fig. 8, fol. 9r. 47. Isaiah 14:15. See also 1 Kings 5:18; 11:14, 23, 25; Zechariah 3; and Job 1–2. 48. See Psalm 109, fig. 31, fol. 64r. 49. Other descriptions of the netherworld creatures also can be found in Jewish literature, such as the cosmic monster, Rahab, in Isaiah 51:9; Job 26:12; Psalm 89:10–11.

Chapter 2 1. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 5–6. To consult photos of the images that can be enlarged, see “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” http://​psalter.library.uu.nl/. See chapter 1, note 8 for instructions on enlarging the images. 2. BDB , 865, #6862. Dahood translates the Hebrew as “O God . . . set me at large.” Dahood, Psalms I , 22; See also Feuer, Tehillim, 1:83, note to verse 2. 3. Niermeyer and van de Kieft, Mediae Latinitatis Lexicon Minus. 4. BDB , 865, col. 2, #4712. 5. For a discussion of the hand of God in Jewish art, see chapter 4. Examples are present in the murals of the synagogue of Dura Europos. See, for instance, pls. 1a and 1b for the hand of God in the Ezekiel panels. 6. Midr. Teh., Ps. 4, sects. 7–8; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:70–71.

Notes to pages 11–16 · 157

7. Midr. Teh., Ps. 4, sects. 7–8; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:70–71. 8. For a similar image, see Psalm 19/20. 9. The Carolingian copyist clearly saw the figure in the model as a priest and dressed him accordingly in a chasuble, a sleeveless garment draped over his shoulders and arms. Chazelle, “Archbishops Ebo and Hincmar,” 1059. 10. For libation vessels in worship, see Exod. 25:29. 11. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 77–95. 12. Weiss, 91, fig. 33. 13. Midr. Teh., Ps. 4, sects. 7–8; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:75–76. 14. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 6 n. 1. 15. Midr. Teh., Ps. 4, section 11; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:76. 16. Midr. Teh., Ps. 7, sects. 13–18; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:112–14, 116, 118. 17. Midr. Teh., Ps. 7, sect. 18; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:116. 18. DeWald identifies the main figure as Christ regardless of the fact that he has no cross in his nimbus (Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 6–7). The Carolingian artist may also have seen the figure in the model as Jesus, though he did not put a cross in his nimbus, as is usually the case when drawing Christ. Augustine sees the psalmist in this psalm as impersonating Christ. See Cameron, “Emergence of Totus Christus,” 210–12. The “veil” has been taken off the “mysteries” of the psalm, so that Christ within it can be seen. See Augustine, En. Ps. 7, para. 1. 19. Midr. Teh., Ps. 7, sect. 4; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:104. 20. DeWald (Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 6) interprets the figure as “the enemy.” 21. The five angels are understood as personifications of various aspects of God’s displeasure: ʿAf (the angel of anger), Qetsef (the angel of wrath), Ḥemah (the angel of fury), Hasmed (the angel of annihilation), and Mashit (the angel of destruction). Midr. Teh., Ps. 7, sect. 6; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:106–7. 22. Augustine sees here the psalmist calling for God’s anger against the devil. Augustine, En. Ps. 7, para. 5. 158 · Notes to pages 16–23

23. The Jewish medieval scholar Rashi specifically refers to the human birthing process when commenting on these verses: “he hatches evil . [The verb yehabbel he hatches ] is a verb referring to pregnancy and birth, as in ‘it was there your mother conceived you. (Song of Songs 8:5)’” (Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 196–97 n. 20). 24. Verses 22–39 of Psalm 9 in the Latin are Psalm 10 in the Hebrew. Up through Psalm 146/147, the Latin Psalm numeration is one behind the Hebrew. The Aramaic version follows the Hebrew. 25. It is possible that originally the Hebrew psalm book was illustrated with small motifs near their appropriate verses, as in the Sacra Parallela, and that the motifs of the composition on the left accompanied the individual verses of Hebrew Psalm 9, and the composition now on the right accompanied the verses of Psalm 10. See chapters 4 and 5. However, since each psalm is illustrated by a well-formed composition, it is clear that here we have two purposeful artistic renderings, and not just a compilation of scattered motifs that originally were drawn in the columns or the margins of a text. 26. Van der Horst noticed that the illustration for Psalm 9/10 “looks as if it is composed from two separate pictures” (“Utrecht Psalter,” 75). And in note 147 he says, “This may . . . be an echo of the fact that the two psalms, 9 and 10, in the Hebrew numbering, are conflated to the single psalm 9 in both the Septuagint and the Latin psalm translations.” DeWald also saw that the illustration falls into two parts (Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 7–8). 27. The exalted stance of the psalmist on the tower prevents my agreeing with DeWald and the editors of the “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition” that the psalmist is standing at the “Gates of Death,” referred to in verse 14 (DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 7; “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition”). 28. See my commentaries on Psalms 1 and 17/18. 29. BDB , 439, col. 1, #3423. 30. Kimchi, Longer Commentary, 62–63. 31. Kimchi, 63. 32. Stuttgart Psalter, Cod. bibl. fol. 23, 10r. 33. All scholars agree that beginning with this folio a different Carolingian artist (designated “B”) is at

work. He is adapting either an antique model or an intermediary. His drawing continues through Psalm 29, fol. 16v (Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 48). 34. BDB , 1011, col. 2, #8356. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1279, notes to verses 1–3. For taking refuge in the Temple, see 1 Kings 1:50, where, by grasping the horns of the altar, one who believed himself innocent of a crime could claim sanctuary. See also Zevit, “First Kings: Introduction and Annotation,” 659 n. 50. 35. Midr. Teh., Ps. 11, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:160. See also Braude, 2:429 n. 4. 36. Dora Panofsky uses the phrase quae perfecisti destruxerunt as an example of a specific image of wicked people destroying a building, but no such building is implied in the Latin. Panofsky, “Textual Basis,” 53. 37. For church fathers who commented on this verse, but did not allude to “foundations,” see Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:136; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:99–100; Chrysostom, Comm. in Ps., 1:211; Athanasius, Exp. in Ps., PG 27, col. 93; and Eusebius, Comm. in Ps., PG 23, col. 137. The church fathers interpret the destruction not as that of the earthly Temple but, for instance, as the destruction of natural knowledge or the Lord’s Law. Blaising and Hardin, Psalms 1–50, 95. 38. BDB , 809, col. 1, #6351. I would like to thank Avner Ash for this information. For “snare” also being a possible translation for the Aramaic, see Stec, Targum of Psalms, 42 n. 6. 39. Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:103; Eusebius, Comm. in Ps., PG 23, col. 141; Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:144. 40. Barasch, Language of Art, 290–91. 41. Barasch, 291. 42. Buchthal, Miniatures of the Paris Psalter, pl. 6, fig. 6. 43. Buchthal, pl. 20, fig. 42. 44. Buchthal, 24–25. 45. Feuer, Tehillim, 1:169 n. 9; Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 219. 46. Feuer, Tehillim, 1:169 n. 9. 47. Augustine, En. Ps. 12, para. 9.

48. The other Christian commentators do not shed any particular light on the motif: Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:143–44; Chrysostom, Comm. in Ps., 1:220–22; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:103. 49. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 64–65, 140–49. 50. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 10. Augustine (among other church fathers) interprets the voice in this psalm as being that of Christ: “Our King in this Psalm speaks in the character of the human nature He assumed” (Augustine, En. Ps. 16, para. 1). See also Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:161; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:117; Eusebius discusses Christ’s resurrection (Comm. in Ps., PG 23, col. 160). 51. The patristic sources likewise interpret those verses to mean that the tomb was empty. Jerome, for instance, tells us that the “same body, therefore, that had been lying lifeless and dead in the tomb rose from the dead” (Homilies, 2:33–34); Origen references Christ being in heaven, since he has ascended (PG 12, cols. 1215–16). 52. Dufrenne questions whether this was a poor adaptation by a Carolingian artist (Les illustrations, 65). Van der Horst’s opinion is that “the unexpected presence of Christ’s body is an adaptation of the story to fit the design principles of literal illustration followed in the Utrecht Psalter. It serves to depict simultaneously the concepts of death and resurrection evoked in the psalm: the body of Christ in the tomb on Good Friday and the visit of the holy women on the Sabbath, when the tomb is discovered to be empty” (“Utrecht Psalter,” 68). William Noel notes that the body is still in the sepulcher, calls it “narrative nonsense,” and says that that scene should not be read “according to narrative principles despite initial appearances” (“Medieval Charades,” 36). 53. BDB , 142, #1320. 54. Midr. Teh., Ps. 16, sect. 10; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:201. 55. Babylonian Talmud, Baba Bathra 17a (ed. Epstein). 56. Acts 2:25–28. See also Levine and Brettler, Jewish Annotated New Testament, 202. 57. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49. The motif of Christ bending to extract Adam and Eve is very Notes to pages 24–29 · 159

close to the drawing on the extreme right in the Credo, fol. 90r, though it was done by a different artist. See Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 48–49. 58. Augustine, En. Ps. 16, paras. 9 and 10. 59. Midr. Teh., Ps. 16, sect. 11; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:201. 60. The idea of bodily resurrection was established as part of the Jewish discourse in the first century CE. It had been linked with the concept of the Last Judgment, and was taken up in Matt. 12:41 and Luke 11:32. Both of those texts quote from Psalm 15 of the LXX . See Schaper, “Eschatology in the Greek Psalter,” 165. 61. Stuttgart Psalter, Cod. bibl. fol. 23 [36], 16v. 62. The verb also means “to smelt” (BDB , 864, #6884). 63. Rashi also understands that the Hebrew verb used here to refer to putting people to a test usually refers to refining metal (Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 232–34). A similar use of the word occurs in Psalm 25/26, where it is likewise illustrated with the motif of a furnace. 64. BDB , 316, #2459. 65. Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 233 n. 10a. 66. Kimchi, Longer Commentary, 82. 67. See “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition”; DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 11. 68. NJPS translation. The verses are cited again in 2 Samuel 22:5. 69. Gaster, “Belial,” 289–90. 70. BDB , 116, #1100. 71. Steudel, “Belial, Beliar.” 72. Steudel. 73. BDB , 776, #6031. In Deut. 8:2, 3, 16, the idea communicated is that God afflicts the Israelites so that they will be “proved” and do better. 74. On the anthropomorphic imagery associated with God, see discussion of Psalm 67/​68. 75. Sarna, On the Book of Psalms, 74. 76. BDB , 13–14, #168–69, definition 3. 77. For the sun god at Hammat Tiberias, see pls. 2 and 2b. See also my discussion of Psalm 68 in this chapter, and chapter 4.

160 · Notes to pages 29–38

78. Augustine, En. Ps. 19, para. 7. 79. Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:197. 80. Augustine, En. Ps. 19, para. 6. 81. Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:197. 82. BDB , 342, #2646; Kimchi, Longer Commentary, 87: “In the morning, as he [the sun] comes out in all his brightness and beauty he is like a bridegroom coming forth from his chamber, for all rejoice before him; so the sun, all rejoice at his light.” 83. See Novatian, cited in Blaising and Hardin, Psalms 1–50, 152. 84. Midr. Teh., Ps. 19, sect. 12; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:281. 85. Midr. Teh., Ps. 19, sect. 12; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:281. 86. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1287. Berlin and Brettler suggest that the original Hebrew text was written under the influence of solar worship in ancient Israel. See 2 Kings 23:11, where there is reference to the king who took away the “horses that the kings of Judah had given to the sun, at the entrance of the house of the Lord . . . ; and he burned the chariots of the sun with fire.” See also Sarna, On the Book of Psalms, 72–73. 87. Both “suns” are wearing the cloak and radiating crown of the personified Sun next to the tabernacle. The cloak and crown are also present in the Hammat Tiberias mosaic (pls. 2 and 2b). 88. See my discussion of Psalm 1 and the examples of personifications in the mosaics at Hammat Tiberias (pls. 2 and 2c), Sepphoris (pl. 3a), and in the House of Leontis (pl. 5). 89. Midr. Teh., Ps. 19, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:271–72. 90. Midr. Teh., Ps. 19, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:271–72. 91. Midr. Teh., Ps. 19, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:271–72. 92. Midr. Teh., Ps. 19, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:272. 93. The root of the Hebrew word is g-w-h. It can mean “their chord,” i.e., “their music.” See the NJPS Tanakh in Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction

and Annotations,” 1287, where it is translated as “their voice.” See also BDB , 876, #6957 and #6961. 94. JPS 1917 translation: “Their line is gone out through all the earth.” See also Feuer, Tehillim, 242 n. 5, citing Radak. For the word gaw, meaning “measuring line,” see BDB , 876, #6957 and #6961. 95. See Psalm 15/16:6, where the word for “ropes,” ḥavalim, literally means “ropes used as measuring lines to measure off portions of land.” In that image the psalmist holds ropes in his hands. 96. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49. 97. Augustine, En. Ps. 22, para. 1. See also Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:234. 98. For the Christological interpretation of the imagery of this psalm, see DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 13; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 67–68; Noel, “Medieval Charades,” 34–41, 38, and pl. 5. 99. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1290, note to Ps. 22 and n. 1. As Berlin and Brettler point out, this psalm “contains a striking maternal image (verses 10–11) and contains fewer male images than most psalms; some therefore attribute it to a female author.” 100. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 7; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:305. 101. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:297. For more on Esther being compared to a “hind,” see Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 14; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:309. 102. Babylonian Talmud, Yoma 29a. 103. The editors of the annotated online Utrecht Psalter interpret the verse that way. See “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition.” See also DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 13. 104. Stewart, “Esther (Book and Person).” 105. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:298. 106. The Midrash quotes liberally here from the book of Esther. Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:300–311. 107. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 6; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:302. 108. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 6; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:302.

109. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 16; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:311. 110. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 6; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:303. 111. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 24; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:318. 112. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 7; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:304. 113. For a Roman image of a lots machine, see Dufrenne, Les illustrations, fig. 36. The image is in the Via Latina Catacomb, Room M ; for a fifthcentury relief from the hippodrome in Constan­ tinople showing a lots machine, see Nickel, Byzantinische Kunst, pl. 39. 114. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 27; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:321. 115. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 25; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:319. 116. BDB , 509, #3803 and #3804. 117. Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 257. 118. Feuer understands it as such. Feuer, Tehillim, 1:276 n. 13; Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 25; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:319. 119. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 26; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:320. 120. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 25; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:319. 121. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 23; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:318. 122. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 21; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:317. 123. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 18; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:313. 124. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 10; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:306. 125. Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 12b. 126. Midr. Teh., Ps. 22, sect. 32; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:325. 127. See Ezra 2:2. The events are believed to have occurred in the last third of the sixth century BCE ; see Feuer, Tehillim, 1:282–83, note to verse 27. 128. Najman, “Ezra: Introduction and Notes,” 1666–67. 129. Feuer, Tehillim, 1:282–83, note to verse 27.

Notes to pages 38–44 · 161

130. One of the English translations of the Hebrew word remim is unicorn; see BDB , 910, #72214; Feuer, Tehillim, 1:280, note to verse 22. 131. Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 12b–13a. 132. “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” fol. 14r. 133. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 64. Although the Latin word supervacue does contain the root vacuus, that is not the sense given to it in the Latin. The word vacuus in Latin does not mean “empty” but rather “useless, no good.” See Niermeyer and Kieft, Mediae Latinitatis Lexicon Minus. See also Britt, Dictionary of the Psalter, 267. 134. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1294. The root is r-y-q. BDB defines the Hebrew word as “empty,” “in empty condition” (938, #7385–87). 135. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 71. See also DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 14; Panofsky, “Textual Basis,” 51 n. 7, citing Augustine: “Christ speaks, but in the person of the Church” (En. Ps. 25, para. 1). 136. Oraḥ, oraḥot (see BDB , 73, #734); derekh, derakhim (verse 4) can also be feminine (BDB , 202, #1870). The words in Latin are viae and semitae. 137. “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition”; DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 14–15. 138. BDB , 103, #974, col. 2. 139. BDB , 864, #6884. A similar use of the word occurs in Psalm 17:3. 140. Midr. Teh., Ps. 26, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:357. 141. Midr. Teh., Ps. 26, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:357. 142. Midr. Teh., Ps. 26, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:357–58. 143. Midr. Teh., Ps. 26, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:358. 144. Midr. Teh., Ps. 26, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:358. 145. Midr. Teh., Ps. 26, sect. 3; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:358. 146. Midr. Teh., Ps. 26, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:358.

162 · Notes to pages 44–50

147. Athanasius, Exp. in Ps., PG 27, cols. 145–48; Origen, On the Psalms, PG 12, col. 1273; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:169–70. 148. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1299 and note to Psalm 30. 149. NJPS , 1299. 150. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1299, Psalm 30, note to verse 4. 151. Cassiodorus interprets this psalm as evoking Christ when he was “under the human condition.” “He was saved precisely from such men (‘those opposed by the weight of sins’) . . . when He rose from the dead and death could harm Him no further.” Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:28. 152. Midr. Teh., Ps. 30, sect. 3; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:386–87. 153. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 16; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 67. 154. The Targum also translates this word as “dancing.” Stec, Targum of Psalms, 69. The patristic sources do not allude to “dancing,” but some do mention “joy”; see Augustine, En. Ps. 30, para. 12; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:190–91; Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:288; Eusebius, Comm. in Ps., PG 23, col. 264. 155. Living Nach, 65. 156. BDB , 557, #4135. 157. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 79, Psalm 37, note e: “they are cleared.” 158. Midr. Teh., Ps. 37, sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:423. 159. The drawings in the Utrecht Psalter were executed in several stages: first the contours were sketched, and then the contours were filled in with ink that was diluted.This is one of the forty or so illustrations that was sketched but was not retraced in darker ink. On the stages in the execution of the drawings, see Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 44–47. Those faint drawings treated in this book are the following: 36/37, 40/41, 67/68, 112/113, 136/137, 138/139, 140/141, 145/146. 160. Augustine, En. Ps. 37, para. 3; Cassiodorus Exp. Ps., 1:358; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:222; Eusebius, Comm. in Ps., PG 23,

col. 324. One might be tempted to think that Latin verse 9 is reflective of those holding the scythes about to cut the grasses, even though grasses are not mentioned in that verse. However, the Latin word exterminare does not mean “to cut off ” in the Latin but rather “to annihilate,” “to kill,” “to destroy,” “to ruin.” Niermeyer and van de Kieft, Mediae Latinitatis Lexicon Minus. 161. BDB , 282, #2233. 162. For the Christological interpolations, see Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49; see also 64, nn. 211–12. 163. Some medieval Jewish commentators, like Ibn Ezra and Kimchi, interpret this psalm as meaning that King David was suffering a serious illness when he composed it. Living Nach, 76–77, notes 41:2 and 41:5. Dahood cites a suggestion that Psalm 41 relates to a time when King David was ill and his enemies tried to overthrow him (Psalms I , 249 n. xii); Feuer’s interpretation includes the notion that David is a bedridden patient who cannot stand (Tehillim, 1:513 and 514 n. 2). See also Midr. Teh., Ps. 41, sects. 2 and 5 (Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:436–38), where a man in poor health and a bed of illness is referenced. 164. Britt, Dictionary of the Psalter, 7–8 and xxiii; Augustine, En. Ps. 41:10 and 11, paras. 11 and 12; Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:413; Athanasius, Exp. in Ps., PG 27, col. 196; Eusebius, Comm. in Ps., PG 23, cols. 361–65; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:246, describes the words “raise me up” as relating to Christ’s agony in the passion. 165. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 20–21. 166. In the Utrecht Psalter an angel is always represented with wings, so it is unlikely that this figure is meant to represent an angel. 167. BDB , 662, #5324. 168. Living Nach, 76 n. 41:2 cites Rashi, who gives a translation of the verses as “Great is the reward of those who visit the sick” (Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 332 n. 2a). 169. BDB , 245, #2015. 170. Living Nach, 80 n. 42:11: “Like a deadly dagger thrust into my body.” See also Feuer, Tehillim, 1:533 n. 42:11: “as a murder weapon.”

171. Ibn Ezra, Mikraʾot Gedolot. I would like to thank Avner Ash for this citation. 172. Feuer cites Kimchi in Tehillim, 1:533 n. 11. 173. The comments of the church fathers do not denote a “murder weapon.” See Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 1:422; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:251; Origen, On the Psalms, PG 12, cols. 1415–19; Athanasius, Exp. in Ps., PG 27, cols. 201–4; Eusebius, Comm. in Ps., PG 23, cols. 367–77. 174. BDB , 290, col. 2, #2287. Even-Shoshan says that the fundamental meaning of the root is “to dance around in circles” (Ha-Milon he-hadash, 1:366, col. 1). I wish to thank Avner Ash for this reference. 175. This is cited in Blaha and Cary-Elwes, Reflections on Jewish Mysticism, 369. The story of the harts plunging into water to conceal themselves from dogs is also noted by Feuer, Tehillim, 524–25 n. 2. 176. Dufrenne correctly comments that the pursuit of the deer is not mentioned in the text. She calls the motif an example of a picture that over-accentuates or profoundly modifies a detail (Les illustrations, 66 n. 219). 177. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 21. 178. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, pls. 67–69. 179. Feuer, Tehillim, 1:528–29 n. 5. 180. Midr. Teh., Ps. 42, sect. 4; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:442; Feuer, Tehillim, 1:528 n. 5. 181. It is translated as “Judean towns” in the Living Nach, where the editors say that the word, though literally meaning “daughters,” in this verse is referring to a city’s satellite towns (91). The NJPS has it as “towns,” but Berlin and Brettler add a note giving “women” as an alternate translation (“Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1321 n. c). The Vulgate and the Hebraeos both have filiae, i.e., “daughters,” like the literal Hebrew. 182. The Hebrew text in Psalm 19:5 references both kol haʾarets, “all the earth,” and the “ends of the world,” uviktseh tevel. BDB , 385, #8398. 183. In both of these psalms the Latin words orbis terrae are in the text. See Houghton, “Cassiodorus and the Utrecht Psalter,” 45–50. 184. See those images of the personified Earth noted by Talgam: a late second- to early third-century mosaic in a private dwelling in Jerusalem (Mosaics of Notes to pages 51–57 · 163

Faith, 64–65), and one in a villa in Beth Guvrin (350). The figure was also used in church mosaics (192, 137, 181, 189, 207, and 209). 185. The panel with the personified River was found in proximity to one wherein a menorah is represented, one of the indications that Kyrios Leontis was Jewish (Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis,” pl. 12). 186. In the illustration accompanying Psalm 101/102, fol. 58r, the personified Earth has a nude upper body and holds a cornucopia in her left arm. 187. Eliav, “Viewing the Sculptural Environment,” 415. 188. Eliav, 411–33. 189. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 24. Koehler and Muetherich do not comment on them (Die karolingischen Miniaturen, 100). 190. BDB , 192, #1777. See also Feuer, Tehillim, 1:635 n. 4. 191. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 104. 192. Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 380, verse 4b. 193. Augustine, En. Ps. 50, para. 11. 194. Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 380. 195. For similar whips, see, for instance, Psalm 49, fol. 28r. 196. This interpretation is also in agreement with the allusion in Augustine En. Ps. 50, para. 11, where there is a mention of punishing evil men. 197. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 26; see also “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition.” 198. Midr. Teh., Ps. 55, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:491. 199. Midr. Teh., Ps. 55, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:491–92. Ahithophel’s story is told in 1 Chron. 27:33 and 2 Sam. 15:12, 31–37, and 17:1–23. 200. Midr. Teh., Ps. 55, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:494–95. 201. Midr. Teh., Ps. 55, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:495. 202. Midr. Teh., Ps. 55, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:491. 203. Its basis may be the events in 1 Samuel 24 or 26; see Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1330, note to Psalm 57.

164 · Notes to pages 57–64

204. See Psalms 17:8; 36:8; 63:8. 205. See my commentary on Psalm 67/68 for anthropomorphic elements in the rendering of God. David’s face is blurred here as well, though one can perceive very faint features. 206. Schmitt, Le corps, les rites, les rêves, 301. 207. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1330 n. 5. In the Latin, the men’s teeth and tongues are like weapons, though it would not necessarily make a difference in the way the motifs are drawn. 208. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1331, note to 58:2. 209. Living Nach, 105, Psalm 58:2. 210. Living Nach, 105–6, Psalm 58:3. 211. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 27. 212. Panofsky, “Textual Basis,” 44. 213. Living Nach, 106. 214. Birch, History, Art, and Palaeography, 246 and 247 n. 1. 215. Birch, 246 and 247 n. 1. For shablul, see BDB , 117, #7642. See also Stec, Targum of Psalms, 117 n. 8: “a snail whose trail melts as it goes,”; and Living Nach, 106, note to 58:9. 216. Birch, History, Art, and Palaeography, 247 n. 1. 217. Midr. Teh., Ps. 58, sect. 3; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:506. 218. Birch, History, Art, and Palaeography, 246–47; see also 273. 219. Birch, 247. 220. Frankel, “Hebrew Literature Reflected.” 221. The verse in the Aramaic Targum is translated “Let them be melted away in their sins.” Psalm 58:8. See Stec, Targum of Psalms, 117. 222. NJPS , Ps. 58:8, 1331; BDB , 549, #3988. 223. Living Nach, 106, Psalm 58:8. 224. The figures seem to be bathing their hands in blood in accord with the Latin text. The word in the Hebrew is “feet” or literally “footsteps.” Below the feet of two of the men are some dark ink washes, remnants of what may have been bloody footsteps in the model. 225. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1335, note to Psalm 63.

226. Berlin and Brettler, 1336 n. 9. 227. Berlin and Brettler, 1335 n. 3. The word can also be translated as a wish: “I shall behold.” 228. BDB , 302, #2372, no. 2. 229. The root of the word ashaḥareka (v. 2) relates to shaḥar, “dawn” (BDB , 1007, #7837). The Aramaic Targum is translated “I will come early in the morning before you,” and the Masoretic text can be translated “I will seek you early.” See Stec, Targum of Psalms, 123. 230. See my commentary on Psalm 67/68. For a discussion of the sun cult in Palestine, see Smith, Studies in the Cult of Yahweh, 238–62; Goodman, “Jewish Image of God”; Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 231–35; Levine, Visual Judaism, 247–251, 411–412. 231. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 234; Levine, Visual Judaism, 248–50, 410–12. 232. Levine, “Ancient Synagogues,” 9. 233. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 231–35; Smith, Studies in the Cult of Yahweh, 238–62. 234. Smith, Studies in the Cult of Yahweh, 238–62; Levine, “Contextualizing Jewish Art,” 93. 235. In Christian art there are only two known depictions of Christ as Helios with rays of light streaming from his head: one on the ceiling mosaic in the tomb of the Julii beneath St. Peter’s (pl. 4), and another that has been destroyed (and only exists as a seventeenth-century watercolor) on what was a mosaic in the basilica of St. Paul’s Outside the Walls in Rome. The Christ in the drawing is among the twenty-four elders in a scene from Revelation. See Kessler, “Judaism and the Development of Byzantine Art,” 469; see also Kessler and Zacharias, Rome 1300, 166–67. 236. Leiden Aratea, fol. 93v; see Katzenstein and Savage-Smith, Leiden Aratea. 237. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 76–81; Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49. Those psalms that Dufrenne says have added Christological scenes are 15/16, 21/22, 33/34, 40/41, 73/74, 86/87, 88/89, and 115/116, though see my reinterpretations of Psalms 15/16 and 40/41. On the other hand, the Canticles and other ecclesiastical texts on folios 83v–91v have numerous Christological scenes. Obviously they

were not part of what I hypothesize was ultimately a Hebrew illustrated model. 238. The meaning of the zodiac in synagogue art has been explained in a myriad of ways. See Levine, Visual Judaism, 319–22, 326–27. For various representations of the earth as a circle in the Utrecht Psalter, see Psalms 88/89, 92/93, 95/96, 97/98. For the earth as a sphere, see the illustrations to Psalms 18/19 and 49/50. 239. Augustine, En. Ps. 65, para. 12; Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 2:101–2; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:366–68; Athanasius, Exp. in Ps., PG 27, cols. 284–85. 240. Mathews, Clash of Gods, 149; Fine, Art and Judaism, 201. 241. Fine, Art and Judaism, 201. A wheel with Christ in the center does exist in a fifth-century bathhouse mosaic, but that is hardly a religious context. See Jacoby, “Four Seasons in Zodiac Mosaics.” 242. The Greco-Roman image is reflected in a ninth-century Ptolemy manuscript based on a second- to third-century original. See Astronomical Text of Ptolemy, MS Vat. Gr. 1291, fol. 9; Levine, Visual Judaism, 319–36; Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 45–48; Ness, Written in the Stars, 138–39; Fine, Art and Judaism, 198–99. 243. See the examples compared in Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 37, fig. III -3: Hammat Tiberias (a), Sepphoris (b), Beth Alpha (d), Na’aran (e). See also Levine, Visual Judaism, 319–22. 244. A difference between the two is that the figures in Hammat Tiberias are positioned so that they stand with their feet turned outward, while those in the Utrecht image have their feet turning inward. 245. Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 47. 246. Dothan, 46, and pl. 32, fig. 4. 247. Dothan, 47–48. The Leiden Virgo holds aloft the more traditional three-part sheaf of wheat. The Aratea manuscripts were based on models that came to the West through Arabic sources (via Spain), and the name of the sign Virgo in Arabic (al-sunbula) means “ear or sheaf of wheat.” My thanks to Dana Sajdi for this translation of the Arabic.

Notes to pages 64–69 · 165

248. Roussin, “Zodiac in Synagogue Decoration,” 87 and n. 13. Roussin recounts that at the ceremony of Simchat Beth HaShoevah, celebrated on the first day of Sukkoth, “Pious men and men of good deeds used to dance before them with burning torches in their hands.” 249. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1337 n. 1. 250. Chazelle, Crucified God in the Carolingian Era, 77–78. 251. Dahood, Psalms II , 110 n. 3. 252. Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 15.11.3 (trans. Whiston). 253. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 32; Koehler and Muetherich, Die karolingischen Miniaturen, 105. See also “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition.” The patristic sources reference a chariot-riding or ascending Christ in their commentaries: Augustine, En. Ps. 68, paras. 4 and 21; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 101:386–87; Jerome, Homilies, 1:50; Eusebius, Comm. in Ps., PG 23, col. 701. 254. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1340 n. 5b; Living Nach, 120 n. 68:5; Feuer, Tehillim, 1:827 n. 5. For the root of ʿaravot as “the place of the sunset,” see BDB , 787, #6164. 255. One other exception may be a mosaic that exists only as a seventeenth-century watercolor. There Christ had rays streaming from his head. He appeared among the elders in the scene from Revelation. The watercolor is discussed in Kessler and Zacharias, Rome 1300, 166–67. 256. See chapters 3 and 4. 257. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 308–14 and 317–19. 258. See my commentary on Psalm 64/65 regarding the zodiac wheel. See also Talgam, 265–303; Levine, Visual Judaism, 241–93; Dothan, Hammath Tiberias; Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 87–92. 259. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 109, fig. 50. 260. Astronomical Text of Ptolemy, MS Vat. Gr. 1291, fol. 9r. 261. Stern, “Images in Late Antique Palestine,” esp. 115–16. 262. Stern, “Imitatio Hominis.”

166 · Notes to pages 69–77

263. Stern. 264. For a summary of the interpretations, see Levine, Visual Judaism, 247–51, 319–22; Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 231–35, esp. 233; Smith, Studies in the Cult of Yahweh, 238–62; Goodman, “Jewish Image of God,” 135, with bibliography; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 268–95. 265. Goodman, “Jewish Image of God,” 133–39. 266. Goodman, 136–38. 267. See, however, Urbach, “Rabbinical Laws of Idolatry,” esp. 157–59, for a discussion of Jewish craftsmen who earned their living making statues and images for gentiles. 268. BDB , 787, #6164. 269. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 129 n. 4. 270. ʿAravot is also glossed as “the highest firmament in the heaven,” where God sits upon his great throne. See Living Nach, 120 n. 68:5; Stec, Targum of Psalms, 129. 271. Midr. Teh., Ps. 68, sect. 3; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:539. 272. Midr. Teh., Ps. 68, sect. 10; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:544–45. 273. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 131. See also Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 457 n. 62. 274. Kessler, “Judaism and the Development of Byzantine Art,” 469; Kessler and Zacharias, Rome 1300, 166–67 and fig. 166. The mosaic is no longer extant. Only the seventeenth-century watercolor copy exists. 275. DeWald, Stuttgart Psalter, 61. 276. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 31. 277. Feuer, Tehillim, 1:832 n. 10. 278. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 129. 279. Stec, 130 and n. 14. 280. Midr. Teh., Ps. 68, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:540. 281. Midr. Teh., Ps. 68, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:540. 282. Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 88b. 283. Feuer, Tehillim, 1:836 n. 15. 284. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 69–70. See also “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition.”

285. The Hebraeos of Jerome translates the word as vellus, i.e., fleece; see Jerome, Psalterium Iuxta Hebraeos Hieronymi, 87. 286. Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 473. 287. Midr. Teh., Ps. 72, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:562. 288. BDB , 159, #1488. 289. Midr. Teh., Ps. 72, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:562. 290. Psalm 83/84 is one of the other several instances where an alternative reading of a Hebrew word accords more appropriately with the Utrecht illustration: moreh can mean both “early rain” and “teacher”; the latter fits better with the illustration. 291. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 140. 292. See 1 Kings 4:21, 10:22, and 10:1. See also Midr. Teh., Ps. 72., sect. 2; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:558. 293. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1346, note to Psalm 72. 294. Cited by Fine, Art and Judaism, 107. 295. The verse is reflected in a number of biblical citations relating to Solomon: Tarshish (1 Kings 10:21–23) and Sheba and Seba (1 Kings 10:1, 2, 10). 296. In the Stuttgart Psalter the verse is illustrated with the kings bringing gifts to the baby (fol. 84r). Van der Horst interprets this motif as a literal depiction of a verse referencing Christ, though, he comments, the Virgin is nowhere to be seen (“Utrecht Psalter,” 69). 297. Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, 34. Augustine makes the same argument (En. Ps. 72, para. 1). 298. The Aramaic Targum has the word for “Winter” as well. See Stec, Targum of Psalms, 147. 299. Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 44–47, 184–91, and pl. III -11; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 268– 70, 286, 299–301. 300. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–41. DeWald suggested that this is indeed a Christological insertion and that it may have been influenced by verse 12: “God is our king before ages; he hath wrought salvation in the midst of the earth” (Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 34). Cassiodorus does mention the

incarnation, but not the nativity, in his commentary on this verse of the psalm (Exp. Ps., 2:217). There is nothing about the nativity in the commentaries of the church fathers on this psalm: Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 102:11; Origen, PG 12, col. 1529; Athanasius, Exp. in Ps., PG 27, col. 333; or Eusebius, Comm. in Ps., PG 23, cols. 856–57. 301. In the Stuttgart Psalter (87r) there is no nativity scene illustrating this psalm; rather, a man representing the soul seeking protection (verse 19) is seated on a hill, much as is the figure of Joseph in the Utrecht Psalter. 302. A Talmudic quote from R. Johanan tells us that “at the time of the resurrection a banquet will be given by God to the righteous, at which the flesh of the leviathan will be served” (cited in Hirsch et al., “Leviathan and Behemoth”). 303. Humphrey, Roman Circuses, 528–30. 304. See also the tabernacle on the gold glass in the Museo Sacro in the Vatican (reconstructed in Kessler, “Judaism and the Development of Byzantine Art,” 463) and the Temple facades in the mosaics of the synagogue of Hammat Tiberias (pl. 2e) and Sepphoris (Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 18–19, figs. II -1 and II -2). 305. Hachlili, Ancient Synagogues, 236–37. Stuart Miller writes of certain “Great Synagogues” (Miller, “‘Epigraphical’ Rabbis, Helios, and Psalm 19,” 64). 306. Hachlili, Ancient Synagogues, 236–37 and 59– 79; Levine, Visual Judaism, 396–400; Hachlili, Ancient Jewish Art and Archaeology, 143–44, figs. 1–3, 7–10. 307. Annexes similar to this one are present in many drawings of the Psalter: Psalms 4, 14/15, 21/22, 22/23, 23/24, 27/28, 47/48, 62/63, 64/65, 65/66, 68/69, 95/96, 99/100, 105/106, 107/108, 101/102, 137/138, etc. 308. Urman, “House of Assembly”; Fine, Art, History, and the Historiography, 141–43. 309. Urman, “House of Assembly,” 233. 310. Quoted by Miller, “Rabbis and the NonExistent Monolithic Synagogue,” 58. 311. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 162. 312. Midr. Teh., Ps. 84, sect. 4; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:66.

Notes to pages 77–83 · 167

313. Babylonian Talmud, Berakot 64a. 314. Urman, “House of Assembly.” 315. Augustine, for instance, makes no mention of a study house and takes his interpretation of verse 8 from Jerome’s Latin translation of the Hebrew word ḥayil as meaning “virtue,” so the Latin of verse 8 reads: de virtute in virtutem. Augustine, En. Ps. 84, para. 11. 316. Urman, “House of Assembly,” 238–54. 317. For more discussion of the architectural affinities between the monumental synagogue and the study house, see Fine, Art, History, and the Historiography, 141–43. 318. See Living Nach, Psalm 84:7c. 319. BDB , 435, #4175, II . See also Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:491, note 8 to Psalm 84. 320. Midr. Teh., Ps. 84, sect. 3; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:65. 321. See also Psalm 71/72, where the Hebrew word gez can be translated as “mown grass” or as “fleece”— the latter being the meaning that accords with the image. 322. Jerome, Homilies, 1:124; Cassiodorus, Exp. Ps., 2:318; Augustine, En. Ps. 84, para. 13. 323. “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition.” That commentary identifies the King David figure as Christ, though he obviously has no halo. DeWald calls him “David (or the Messiah?)” (Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 38). 324. Augustine, En. Ps. 84, para. 10. 325. BDB , 700, #4546. 326. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1375, note to verse 3. 327. See also verses 9–10 and Exod. 17:7. Also Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1375, note to verses 8–11. 328. Leibner and Miller, “Appendix,” 259. On Wadi Hamam, see also Leibner and Miller, “Khirbet Hamam Synagogue Mosaics.” 329. Feuer, Tehillim, 2:1330 n. 6, quoting Rabbi David Kimchi; Living Nach, 207, note to 109:6. 330. Rabinowitz, “Satan.” 331. Rabinowitz. R. Judah the Prince resided during the last seventeen years of his life in Sepphoris in the

168 · Notes to pages 83–91

Galilee, the region where I believe the model for the Utrecht Psalter was made. 332. BDB , 1032, #8081. A noun from the same root, shin-mem-nun, means “oil,” shemen. 333. Nicene Creed, para. 3. 334. Midr. Teh., Ps. 110, sect. 1; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:205. 335. Midr. Teh., Ps. 110, sects. 2–4; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:205–6. 336. Midr. Teh., Ps. 110, sect. 4; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:206. 337. Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 108b. 338. Midr. Teh., Ps. 110, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:206–7. 339. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 202–3. It is of interest that the marginal illustration for Psalm 109 in the ninth-century Khludov Psalter, Moscow, Hist. Mus. Cod. 129, fol. 114v, displays the hand of God with rays emanating down toward the enthroned figure of Christ. A crowned King David stands before him. See Corrigan, Visual Polemics, 265, fig. 54. 340. One other figure is briefly mentioned in the Midrash on this psalm, though not in relation to the opening words; rather, it is a comment on Isaiah 16:5 brought to bear on verse 1: “To the Messiah also it will be said And in mercy shall the throne be established: and he shall sit to it in truth in the tent of David, judging (Isa. 16:5). That is, the Holy One, blessed be He, declared: The Messiah shall sit, and I will fight the battles. Hence, he shall sit to it in truth in the tent of David.” Midr. Teh., Ps. 110, sect. 4; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:206. The rabbis of the Midrash do not say that the messiah shall sit at the right hand of the Lord. They are commenting on Isaiah 16:5. In the Jewish context the messiah is a human king from the line of David, and the rabbis are saying that the messiah shall sit in the “tent of David,” not on an equal level with God, the image that is portrayed here. 341. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1395, note to verse 4. 342. Berlin and Brettler, 1395. See 2 Sam. 6:14 and 1 Kings 8. 343. Berlin and Brettler, 1395, Psalm 110, note to verse 4.

344. A king in the Jewish tradition is very close to God, in a privileged position, imagined as being on his right in the divine council. Berlin and Brettler, 1394 n. 1. 345. Berlin and Brettler, 1395, note to verse 3. 346. For the translation of yashav as “sitting (enthroned),” see BDB , 442, #3427. 347. Midr. Teh., Ps. 2, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:39. 348. Stern, “Imitatio Hominis.” 349. The Latin text reads: Qui in altis habitat, which means “Who dwells on high.” 350. There is a motif in Early Christian art of the empty throne in heaven awaiting the second coming of Christ. Since nothing in this psalm evokes that idea, the motif as represented here does not relate to that throne. 351. Neither DeWald nor the editors of the “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition” recognize that all three of these miracles are illustrated here (see DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 51–52; “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition”). Van der Horst says about this psalm that sometimes it is “doubtful which verse is being illustrated” (“Utrecht Psalter,” 70). He sees the representation as confused, even though some of the patristic sources do comment on all three miracles, as does the Jewish commentary. See Augustine, En. Ps. 114; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 102:223–24; Athanasius, Exp. in Ps., PG 27, col. 468. 352. Neither the editors of the “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition” nor DeWald sees this motif as representing Moses stretching out his staff over the Sea of Reeds (DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 51). Van der Horst does see this representation as Moses and his staff over the Sea of Reeds (“Utrecht Psalter,” 70). 353. See Augustine, En. Ps. 114; Origen, PG 12, cols. 1572–73; Athanasius, Exp. in Ps., PG 27, col. 468. 354. Midr. Teh., Ps. 114, sect. 9; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:221. 355. Midr. Teh., Ps. 114, sect. 9; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:222. Neither the editors of the “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition” nor DeWald (Illustrations

of the Utrecht Psalter, 51–52) recognizes this motif as representing the miracle of the waters of the Jordan referenced in 3b and 5b and discussed in the Midrash and by the church fathers. Van der Horst does allude to the possibility (“Utrecht Psalter,” 70). 356. This miracle has been remarked upon by DeWald (Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 51), as well as Van der Horst (“Utrecht Psalter,” 70) and the editors of the “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition.” 357. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 137. 358. Augustine, En. Ps. 114, para. 9. 359. Midr. Teh., Ps. 114, sect. 9; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:222. 360. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49. I have argued, however, that not all of these motifs were additions. Some were adaptations of motifs that originally reflected the Hebrew text and were reinterpreted in a Christian context. See, for instance, my commentaries on Psalms 15, 21, and 40. 361. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1399 nn. 12–14. 362. Berlin and Brettler, 1399 n. 13. 363. Berlin and Brettler, 1400 nn. 17–19. 364. BDB , 286, #2256. 365. BDB , 64, #4562. 366. For Talmudic and medieval commentary on the conflict between David and Saul alluded to in this psalm, see Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 665–66; for commentary on verse 116:9, see Living Nach, 217–18, note to 116:9. 367. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 143–44. See below for the opinions of other scholars. 368. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 52. 369. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 143. 370. Dufrenne, 143–44. 371. Dufrenne, 144: The lance-bearer “completely upsets the iconography of the crucifixion”; “He doesn’t correspond to anything in the text” (translation mine). 372. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 75. 373. Chazelle, Crucified God, 245. 374. Chazelle, 250. For Chazelle’s Christological interpretation of the illustration, see 246–54. 375. Chazelle, 246.

Notes to pages 91–97 · 169

376. Chazelle suggests that this motif could very well be the first appearance of a chalice held to the side of the dying or dead Jesus, an iconography that, she believes, probably originally appeared in ninth-century Carolingian productions (246–50, esp. 248; see also Chazelle, “Archbishops Ebo and Hincmar,” 1072). 377. For a full explanation of Chazelle’s Christian interpretation of the scene, see Chazelle, Crucified God, 247–54; Chazelle, “Archbishops Ebo and Hincmar,” 1072–73. 378. Chazelle, Crucified God, 246–48. 379. Living Nach, 218. 380. 1 Sam. 21:11, 23:26; Living Nach, 218, notes to 116:9. 381. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1402, note to Psalm 119. 382. Berlin and Brettler, 1404 n. 48, and 1317 nn. 21–22 to Psalm 44. 383. Berlin and Brettler, 1402–3, note to Psalm 119. 384. BDB , 859, #6810. 385. BDB , 654, #5289. 386. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1402–3, note to Psalm 119. 387. BDB , 888, #7065; Living Nach, note to Psalm 119:139: “Zealous wrath.” The “proud,” “wicked,” and “evildoers” are also evoked in verses 42, 69, 78, 95, 115, 119, 122, etc. 388. Midr. Teh., Ps. 119, sect. 20; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:264. This part of the Midrash, basically the commentaries on Psalm 119:4 through Psalm 150, is taken from “an unknown manuscript.” See Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:xxviii–xxxi. See also my comments on this “unknown manuscript” in my analysis of Psalms 119/120 and 136/137. 389. Midr. Teh., Ps. 119, sect. 20; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:264. 390. Midr. Teh., Ps. 119, sect. 20; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:264. 391. The editors of the “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition” believe the motif of the pit accords with verse 21b: “They are cursed who decline from thy commandments.” 392. Midr. Teh., Ps. 119, sect. 32; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:270. 170 · Notes to pages 97–102

393. Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:xxviii–xxxi. See also the introduction and my discussion of Psalms 118/119 and 136/137 in this chapter. 394. Braude, 1:xxx–xxxi. The manuscripts Buber consulted are listed in 1:xxx n. 34. 395. Braude, 1:xxx–xxxi. In addition to the “unknown manuscript,” the publisher drew on the Yalkut Shimoni for the Midrash on Psalm 136/137 and for a few other commentaries. The Yalkut Shimoni is a gathering of rabbinic sayings following the order of the verses in the Bible. The anthology is thought to date from the thirteenth century. See Elbaum, “Yalkut Shimoni.” 396. See my discussion of Psalm 145/146 for an illustrated motif that reflects the “unknown manuscript” of the Midrash consulted for the Saloniki printed version. 397. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 43. He thinks that the change in allotted space relates to the length of Psalm 118/119 and that the calculations had not been properly done, so the artists had to squeeze in the pictures left in that quire, since they had decided that quire 10 would begin with the text of Psalm 127/128 on fol. 74r (“Utrecht Psalter,” 32–44). 398. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 53. Artist “H” was the ninth artist to undertake the adaptation of the model (Van der Horst, 49). 399. Berlin and Brettler, “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1411 n. 4. 400. Berlin and Brettler, 1411–12 n. 5; Living Nach, 235, Psalm 120, n. 5. 401. DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, 53–54. 402. In his Hebraeos, Jerome uses the Latin word for “tent,” tabernaculum, but he does not refer to Meshech, only “Caedar.” Panofsky (“Textual Basis of the Utrecht Psalter,” 56) recognized this. Augustine translates the verse as including the phrase “tents of Kedar,” but he sees the word metaphorically by interpreting Kedar not as a place, but as a word meaning “darkness.” Hence, he writes of “tents” of darkness, an idea not reflected in this image. He does not mention the other clan, Meshech, at all. See Augustine, En. Ps. 120, para. 5.

403. Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:xxx–xxxi. See my commentary on Psalm 119/120. 404. Elbaum, “Yalkut Shimoni.” 405. For a discussion of these stages of execution, see Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 44–46. For a photo of the image that can be enlarged, see “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” fol. 77r. 406. Babylonian Talmud, Gittin 57b. 407. To be able to see the lyres hanging on the willows, see “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” fol. 77r, or Psalterium Latinum, page 161. 408. BDB , 490, #3658. 409. Midr. Teh., Ps. 137, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:334. As mentioned above, this commentary was in the “unknown manuscript” used by the editors for the Saloniki printed version of 1515. It has been recognized as being part of the Yalkut. See my discussion of Psalm 119/120. 410. The church fathers make no mention of mutilated thumbs. 411. Midr. Teh., Ps. 137, sect. 4; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:334. 412. The word is from the Greek, meaning “dwarf ” (Hirsch et al., “Dwarf ”). 413. Pesikta de-Rab Kahana, trans. Braude and Kapstein, 343. The Pesikta is at least as old as the fifth century. See Poupko, “Introduction to the New Edition,” xi. 414. BDB , 490, #3658. 415. Niermeyer and van de Kieft, Mediae Latinitatis Lexicon Minus. See the Gallican text of the Utrecht Psalter; Psalterium Latinum, page 161. See also the Douay-Rheims Bible and the Latin Vulgate. Van der Horst says that “instruments” conveys the broader sense of organa (“Utrecht Psalter,” 72). 416. As Panofsky saw, the LXX and Jerome’s Hebraeos have the word for “lyres/​harps,” citharas nostras (“Textual Basis,” 53). What she did not consider, however, was the original Hebrew text, which was the source for the other two. 417. Midr. Teh., Ps. 137, sect. 5; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:335. 418. DeWald and the online editors of the Utrecht Psalter neglected to comment on this motif.

419. Living Nach, 253: “Your enemies who extol you in vain.” Jerome translates the Hebrew with the word adversarii, i.e., enemies. See also the Jewish Study Bible’s NJPS translation: “Your enemies who swear by You falsely.” Berlin and Brettler note that the meaning of the Hebrew is uncertain (“Psalms: Introduction and Annotations,” 1426, note b-b). 420. Dahood, Psalms III , 297–98; see n. 20. 421. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 234 n. 24. The LXX , translated from the Hebrew, also uses the word for “cities.” The editor of the Dead Sea Psalm scroll notes here that the Hebrew is uncertain (Sanders, Dead Sea Psalms Scroll, 73). 422. Hebrew-English Bible, According to the Masoretic Text and the JPS 1917 Edition. See also Dahood, Psalms III , 286–87 n. 3; BDB , 284, #2239. 423. The Hebrew reads be-aḥarit yam, which can be translated “in the uttermost parts of the sea” or “in the westernmost sea” (Dahood, Psalms III , 290). 424. “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” folio 79r; or Psalterium Latinum, fol. 79r. 425. Panofsky, “Textual Basis,” 53. 426. BDB , 812, #6398, and 131, #1234. 427. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 236. Based on the Aramaic, Feuer translates the verse in the same way (Tehillim, 2:1661, verse 7). 428. Such a censer hanging from three chains can be seen on the right of the menorah in the mosaic in the small synagogue at Beth Shean. Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 126, fig. VI -10, and 127, fig. VI -12 group III a. See also Bahat, “Synagogue at BethShean,” 83. 429. For a discussion of why some of the motifs are very faint, see Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 44– 46. See also Psalterium Latinum, fol. 81v page 170, for the very faint online image of the face on the water skin in the extreme upper right. See also “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” fol. 81v. 430. This section of the Midrash comes from the “unknown manuscript” used in the Saloniki edition (1515), much of which was the source for the Buber edition (1891) and the Braude translation (1959), which I have been using. See my discussion of Psalms 119/120 and 136/137.

Notes to pages 103–108 · 171

431. BDB , 609, #4997, a skin bottle or a leather bottle. 432. Midr. Teh., Ps. 146, sect. 3; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:364. 433. Midr. Teh., Ps. 146, sect. 3; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 2:364–65. 434. The word shofar in Hebrew can be either a ram’s horn or a trumpet. The Living Nach translation of shofar is “trumpet” in Psalm 98:6. See also BDB , 1051, #7782, where a shofar can be either a generic “horn” or the “curved horn as of a ram.” 435. BDB , 721–22, #5748. 436. Britt, Dictionary of the Psalter, 39: “A dance in a ring, a choral dance.” For the church fathers’ understanding of the word as “dance,” see Chrysostom, Comm. in Ps., 2:372; Theodoret, Commentary on the Psalms, 2:373; “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition.” 437. Apel, “Early History of the Organ.” 438. Apel, 204. 439. Apel, 191–71, esp. 199, 210–12. 440. See chapter 3. Aramaic was the language spoken by most Jews of the Galilee in late antiquity. 441. Stec, Targum of Psalms, 244, note e to Psalm 150; See also Stec’s “Introduction” (Targum of Psalms, 20) under “Loan Words”: hrdwblyn—Greek hudraulis, “water-organ” (150:4). Stec uses as his base manuscript Paris, Bibliothèque nationale, MS Héb.17. In the LXX the Greek word in 150:4b is usually translated as “organ,” and in the Latin it is rendered as organo. 442. Apel, “Early History of the Organ, 199. 443. A water organ is also possibly referenced in the Talmud. In the Babylonian Talmud, Arachin 10b we have the following exchange: “Thus also would R. Simeon b. Gamaliel say: There was no hirdolim in the Sanctuary. [What is hirdolim?]—Abaye said: A musical instrument [table] worked by pressure [of water] because its sound was heavy and disturbed the music.” The editors of this passage in note 14 comment that Jastrow connects hirdolim with hydraula (water organ). 444. Apel, “Early History of the Organ,” 192–99. For a modern drawing, see the diagram in Au and Yeh, “Ctesibius.”

172 · Notes to pages 108–114

445. Apel, “Early History of the Organ,” 193. 446. Apel, 207. 447. Apel, figs. 5 (front) and 6 (rear). Figure 5 (terra-cotta lamp from Carthage) is between pages 198 and 199. See also the hydraulis on a coin in the British Museum from the late fourth to early fifth century; British Museum Collection Online, Number R 4912. 448. “Gladiator mosaic,” Nennig, Germany; Roman; late second to early fourth century. The twenty-seven organ-pipes rest on a hexagonal podium, which also stores water for the organ. The organist plays the keyboard that is behind the pipes. See also Dunbabin, Mosaics of the Greek and Roman World, 81–83. The lamp in pl. 19a is in the form of a man playing the water organ. We see his back, and his head is missing. The central cistern is not visible in this view. British Museum, 1965, 1011.1; Roman; ca. 175–250. The findspot was Tunisia. 449. Quoted by Apel, “Early History of the Organ,” 198. 450. Quoted by Apel, 199. 451. Apel, 200–201, 208. See also the lever in the hand of the man operating the reconstructed hydraulis in the video “Ancient Hydraulis,” produced by the European Cultural Center of Delphi. 452. Apel, “Early History of the Organ,” 211. 453. Apel, 211.

Chapter 3 1. Meyers, “Early Judaism,” 74–78; Levine, Visual Judaism, 204, 206–7; Safrai, Missing Century, 33–34; Cytryn-Silverman, “Tiberias,” 186–87. 2. Levine, Visual Judaism, 189. 3. The Cairo Genizah has revealed a series of literary works dating from this time, works that indicate that Jews of the period led a creative cultural life. The liturgical, apocalyptic, and mystical works that had previously been dated to the Middle Ages are now seen as having been composed in late antiquity. See Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 9–10; Levine, Visual Judaism, 204. 4. Levine, Visual Judaism, 193.

5. Strange, “Sepphoris: Jewel of the Galilee”; Cytryn-Silverman, “Tiberias,” 192–97; Meyers, “Early Judaism,” 76. 6. Meyers, “Early Judaism,” 69–71. For an overview of Early Christian and Byzantine churches in Palestine and Jordan, see Krautheimer and Curcic, Early Christian and Byzantine Architecture, 156–60. 7. Safrai, Missing Century, 34–35. For the church mosaics of Palestine in this period, see the examples in Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 81–90, 92–114, 120–21. 8. Levine, “Sages and the Synagogue,” 202–3. 9. Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 190. 10. Strange, “Sepphoris: Jewel,” 34–35. 11. Safrai, Missing Century, 37–38, 46, 49–53. 12. Safrai, 38–39. 13. Safrai, 100. 14. See my discussion of those mosaics in chapter 4. 15. Safrai, Missing Century, 101–4. 16. Safrai, 39, 101; Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 1. 17. Levine, Visual Judaism, 210-211; Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 1; Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 3–5. In the fifth or early sixth century Christian congregations built two churches in Sepphoris. See Strange, “Sepphoris: Jewel,” 35. 18. Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 3. Tiberias is less accessible to modern excavation because it has been heavily built over by modern construction. 19. Dothan, 3–5. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 1; Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 562. 20. Weiss and Netzer, Promise and Redemption; Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 559–60. 21. Levine, “Sages,” 202–3. 22. Levine, 202–3; Levine, Ancient Synagogues Revealed, 10. 23. Meyers, Meyers, and Gordon, “Sepphoris,” 47–48. 24. Meyers, Meyers, and Gordon, 48 and n. 20. 25. See my analysis in chapter 4. 26. Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 3–5; CytrynSilverman, “Tiberias,” 186–87; Josephus, Wars of the Jews, trans. Whiston 2.9.1; Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 18.2.3. 27. Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 3–4.

28. Dothan, 3–4. 29. Dothan, 4. In the fifth century Tiberias was also the seat of a bishopric, and structures such as Roman bathhouses, a theater, and a stadium attest to numerous pagan inhabitants as well. CytrynSilverman, “Tiberias,” 186–87, 191–97. 30. Cytryn-Silverman, “Tiberias,” 187, 195; Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 4. 31. Cytryn-Silverman, “Tiberias,” 201; Levine, Visual Judaism, 243–44. 32. Savage, “Hammath Tiberias,” 211–16; Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 4. 33. The only remains found so far in what was Tiberias are the southern gate and the cardo. Savage, “Hamath Tiberias,” 212. 34. Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, pls. 10–21; Levine, Visual Judaism, 244–46; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 265–72. See also chapter 4. 35. See my discussion of the chariot-riding figure in Psalm 67/68, and chapter 4. A general view of the pavement can be found in Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 265, fig. 338. 36. See my discussions of the zodiac in Psalm 64/65 (fig. 22), the charioteer in Psalm 67/68 (fig. 23), and the seasons in Psalm 73/74 (fig. 25). 37. Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 55–62 and pl. 17; Levine, Visual Judaism, 245. 38. Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 56. 39. Levine, Visual Judaism, 246. 40. Levine, “Sages,” 219. 41. Weiss and Netzer, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris,” 29–31; for discussion of the results of recent excavations, see Weiss, “From Galilean Town to Roman City.” 42. Josephus, Wars of the Jews, trans. Whiston 3.30–32. 43. Miller, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris,” 22. 44. Miller, 22–23. 45. For figures on the increased number of settlements, see Levine, Visual Judaism, 192. 46. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 2. 47. Miller, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris,” 24–25.

Notes to pages 114–118 · 173

48. Weiss, “From Galilean Town”; Weiss and Netzer, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris,” 29–31; Strange, “Sepphoris Aqueducts.” 49. Weiss and Netzer, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris,” 29. 50. Weiss and Netzer, 30–32. 51. Weiss and Netzer, 31–32; Strange, “Sepphoris Aqueducts.” 52. Weiss and Netzer, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris,” 29–31; Strange, “Sepphoris: Jewel,” 47. 53. Weiss and Netzer, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris,” 30. On the House of Dionysos mosaics and their possible relationship with a Jewish patron, see chapter 4. 54. Weiss and Netzer, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris,” 35; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 60, fig. 85. 55. For some examples, including the Nilotic scene in the Nile Festival Building, see Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 113–14, fig. 159. 56. For a summary of interpretations of the meaning of the iconography, see Talgam, 282–95; for a drawing of the mosaics in the nave, see 282. See also my references to this mosaic in the discussions of Psalm 67/68 (chariot), 64/65 (zodiac), 73/74 (seasons), and chapter 4. 57. On the possibility of the survival of a priesthood linked to animal sacrifice, see Hutt, “Threefold Heresy.” 58. Jerusalem Talmud, ʿAvodah Zarah 3, 3, 42d; quoted in Levine, Visual Judaism, 427. 59. Quoted in Levine, “Sages,” 217. 60. Levine, 212–13. 61. Levine, 213. 62. Weiss, “Images and Figural Representations,” esp. 133. 63. Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:xi. 64. Midr. Teh., Ps. 18, sect. 26; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:257–58. 65. Eliav, “Viewing the Sculptural Environment.” 66. Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 562–63, 573. 67. Eliav, “Viewing the Sculptural Environment,” 415–33, esp. 423.

174 · Notes to pages 118–122

68. Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 573. 69. Weiss, 564; Miller, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris”; Weiss and Netzer, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris”; Hoglund and Meyers, “Residential Quarter”; Strange, “Sepphoris: Jewel.” 70. Hoglund and Meyers, “Residential Quarter,” 38. 71. See Psalm 81/82, fol. 48v. 72. Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 571 and 572, figs. 5 and 6. 73. Weiss, 573. 74. Eliav, “Viewing the Sculptural Environment,” 415–33, esp. 423. 75. Meshorer, City-Coins, 34–35. 76. Meshorer, 37; Strange, “Sepphoris: Jewel,” 31, fig. G . 77. Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 564. 78. For other examples of idols, see, for instance, Psalm 81/82, fol. 48v and Psalm 85/86, fol. 50r. 79. Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis,” 123–34. 80. See, for example, Psalms 39/40 (fol. 23r), 42/43 (fol. 25r), and 41/42, fig. 16. 81. Besides the House of Leontis cited above, see also the Nile Festival Building in Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, figs. 159–61, 259–61. See also the Terra or Earth Mother personification in pl. 9 from the Nile Festival Building. 82. See the idol standing on the tower above the wall in the illustration to Psalm 113/114–15, fig. 34. 83. Levine, “Sages,” 208. 84. Levine, 203–8. 85. Levine, Visual Judaism, 428–37; Schwartz, “On the Program.” 86. Levine, “Status of the Patriarch,” 1. 87. Judah’s most momentous achievement was the compilation of the Mishnah. 88. Weiss, “Images and Figural Representations,” 130–32; Talgam and Weiss, “Mosaics of the House of Dionysos,” 128. 89. Talgam and Weiss, “Mosaics of the House of Dionysos,” 129; Levine, “Contextualizing Jewish Art,” 101; Elsner, “Paideia,” 136–38 and 149. In the late empire there were those aspiring to join the elites

through the study of antiquity, and some Jews had those aspirations. 90. Levine, “Status of the Patriarch,” 6–12; Talgam and Weiss, “Mosaics of the House of Dionysos,” 128. Rabbi Judah I as well as synagogue officials and Jews of the urban elites chose to be buried at Beth Sheʿarim. 91. Levine, “Status of the Patriarch,” 17 and 22. 92. Stern, “Images in Late Antique Palestine,” 115–17; Levine, Visual Judaism, 130–135, 138; Levine, “Status of the Patriarch,” 12–13; Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 564. 93. Gruen, “Hellenism, Hellenization,” 724–25. 94. Weiss, “Images and Figural Representations”; Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 564. 95. Levine, Visual Judaism, 441–42; Weiss, Public Spectacles, 195–226, esp. 201, 207–8. The Midrash on Psalms references “the dunghills of your circuses and theatres.” Midr. Teh., Ps. 68, sect. 8; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:542. 96. Eliav, “Viewing the Sculptural Environment.” 97. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 283–85. 98. Hezser, “Jewish Literacy.” 99. Hezser, 193. 100. Hezser, 193. 101. Hezser, 164–65. 102. Hezser, 186. 103. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 202–23; Levine, “Contextualizing Jewish Art,” esp. 97–98, 100–103; Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis,” 132–34. 104. Levine, “Contextualizing Jewish Art,” 102–3; Grob, “Jews and Christians,” 84. 105. Sarna, On the Book of Psalms, 18 and 23.

Chapter 4 1. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 48–49. 2. Muetherich, “Carolingian Manuscript Illumination,” 105–12; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 23. 3. Dufrenne suggests that eight scenes in the psalm illustrations are Christological insertions made during the Carolingian period (Les illustrations, 140–49).

4. Muetherich, “Carolingian Manuscript Illumination,” 105–12. 5. Muetherich, 111; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 47–49; Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 69–192. 6. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 43–44. 7. Van der Horst, 44. 8. Dufrenne, Les illustrations, 140–49. See my caveat about her suggestion, especially in relation to Psalms 15/16 and 40/41, where I propose that the Christian scenes were reinterpretations of original Davidic motifs. 9. For the hand of God in Jewish art, see, for instance, Ezekiel’s visions in the wall paintings of Dura Europos (pls. 1a and 1b). God’s hand is also present in the Dura scene of the binding of Isaac, and in that same scene in the Beth Alpha synagogue. 10. Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Douce 59, fol. 51v. Wüstefeld, Noel, and Van der Horst, “Catalogue,” catalogue no. 8, p. 188 to be compared with Utrecht Psalter Psalm 51/52, fol. 30r. The Stuttgart Psalter also has instances where the hand of God is present rather than the figure of Christ. 11. This can be seen, for example, in the illustration to Psalms 113–14/115 (fig. 34, fol. 66r), where the “squeezing in” of Christ’s figure is apparent; or in Psalm 65/66 (fol. 36v), where a large hand of God would be more compositionally appropriate. 12. See table in Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 48–49. 13. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith. On the intercultic fluidity among Jews, Christians, and pagans in this period, see Elsner, “Archaeologies and Agendas.” 14. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue; Weiss and Netzer, Promise and Redemption; Dothan, Hammath Tiberias; Leibner, “Khirbet Wadi Hamam”; Leibner and Miller, “Appendix”; Magness, “Huqoq, Preliminary Report”; Magness et al.,“Huqoq Excavation Project.” For a recent bibliography, see Talgam, Mosaics of Faith; and Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements. 15. Avigad, Beth Sheʿarim; Avigad and Mazer, “Beth Sheʿarim”; Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images”; Levine, Visual Judaism, 120–28. 16. Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 243–80.

Notes to pages 122–129 · 175

17. Hachlili, 272–75; see pls. VII -1–VII -5, where there are similar motifs in mosaic floors in different locales and in structures of different faiths. 18. For Hachlili’s comparison of the motif in the Nile Festival Building in Sepphoris with the silver plate from Perm, see Hachlili, 244–52 and 275–79, esp. 276, figs. XII -15a and XII -15b; for the comparison of the lions seizing bulls’ heads on the synagogue pavement from Sepphoris with a stone relief from Tiberias, see 276; 201, fig. IX -2; for a comparison of very similar Orpheus scenes in mosaic and ivory, see 277, figs. XII -16a and XII -16b. Model books are assumed by other scholars as well. See Avigad, Beth Sheʿarim, 285. For early surviving fragments drawn on papyrus, see Weitzmann, Illustrations in Roll and Codex, 47–57, 66–69, and figs. 40a–43. See below for discussion of “papyrus style.” See also Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts, 22. 19. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 28, 171, and 174; Weitzmann and Kessler, Frescoes of the Dura Synagogue, 143–50 and 164. 20. Weitzmann, Illustrations in Roll and Codex, 47–57 and 66–69. For such drawings, see figs. 40a–43. See below for discussion of “papyrus style.” See also Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts, 22. 21. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 174. 22. For a discussion of the extant pagan fragments from the second through the fourth century, see Weitzmann, Illustrations in Roll and Codex, 47–57. There are small artifacts that have images on them— clay lamps, gold glasses, and the paintings in the Jewish catacombs of Rome—but the imagery in those settings is emblematic or symbolic and has little in common with the Utrecht Psalter illustrations. See Levine, Visual Judaism, 91–96 and 141–65. 23. The following are some of the non-Jewish late antique Galilean mosaics that have stylistic similarities with those I will be discussing: the ʿEin Yael panel with Thetis surrounded by fishes, the Public Building in Sepphoris north of the decumanus, and the Nilotic mosaic from the Nile Festival Building in Sepphoris, dated by its excavators to ca. 400. These examples are illustrated in Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, figs. 66, 65, 159; the Jabaliyah Diakonikon mosaic

176 · Notes to page 129

pavement is illustrated in Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, pl. VII -10a and b. Though they present a complex picture, the mosaics all display elements of a “Hellenistic” style. See Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 165–66 and 168. 24. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 27–43 and figs. 31–54; Talgam and Weiss, “Mosaics of the House of Dionysos.” 25. For Weiss’s argument that Rabbi Judah was the owner of the house, see Talgam and Weiss, “Mosaics of the House of Dionysos,” 128–30. 26. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 44. 27. Talgam, 27–43 and figs. 31–54. 28. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 45–46. 29. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 35, fig. 46. 30. Talgam and Weiss, “Mosaics of the House of Dionysos”; for Weiss’s view, see 130–31. Talgam holds that the house belonged to a pagan who adhered to the Dionysiac religion. 31. The naturalistic elements characteristic of the Dionysos mosaics and present in the Utrecht Psalter are also found in pagan mosaics of late antique Galilee. See, for instance, the “female attendant” in the Shuni “Spring” mosaic in Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 55, fig. 78, and the personification of the Path of Truth in the Utrecht Psalter, Psalm 24/25, fol. 14r. In both, the woman’s mantle is softly draped over her shoulders and falls gracefully over her left arm. Compare also the definition of the musculature in the river god–like personification on the left in the Shuni mosaic illustrated in Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 55, fig. 78, with the river god in Psalm 1, fol. 1v. For similar rendering of atmospheric landscape and three-dimensional architectural structures, see mosaics from the Public Building in Sepphoris (north of the decumanus) in Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 46, fig. 65, and the numerous examples of grass and tree used as “fillers” in the Utrecht Psalter. 32. Leibner and Miller, “Appendix”; Leibner, “Khirbet Wadi Hamam”; Leibner and Miller, “Khirbet Hamam Synagogue Mosaics.” See also Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 260–64. 33. For the early accounts of the excavations of Huqoq, see Magness, “Huqoq, Preliminary Report.”

For a more recent report, see Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project.” See also Magness, “Samson in the Synagogue”; Magness, “Scholar’s Update: New Mosaics from the Huqoq Synagogue”; Williams, “Explore This Mysterious Mosaic.” For a brief account of a discovery of a scene, “Two Spies of Moses Carrying Clusters of Grapes,” see Bond, “Discovery of Jewish Mosaics.” For ongoing reports on excavations at Huqoq, see Hadashot Arkheologiyot—Excavations and Surveys in Israel, Israel Antiquities Authority, http://​w ww.hadashot-esi.org.il/​search_​eng.aspx (search terms “Magness,” “Huqoq”); “Reports,” Huqoq Excavation Project,http://​huqoq.web.unc .edu/​reports. 34. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 81. 35. Leibner, “Khirbet Wadi Hamam,” 343. 36. Leibner and Miller, “Appendix,” 239–40; Leibner and Miller, “Khirbet Hamam Synagogue Mosaics”; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 260. See also Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” 114–15; Leibner and Miller, “Appendix,” 252–56. 37. For the new identification of the Wadi Hamam “Craftsmen” scene based on the recently discovered Huqoq panel of the Tower of Babel, see Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” 115–17, figs. 48 and 49. For an aerial view of the Huqoq Tower of Babel mosaic in the center of the southern half of the nave, see Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” 100, fig. 37. See also Leibner and Miller, “Appendix,” 171–76; Leibner, “Khirbet Wadi Hamam,” 357. 38. Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” 119. But see also Leibner and Miller, “Appendix,” 171; Leibner, “Khirbet Wadi Hamam,” 356–58. 39. Leibner and Miller, “Appendix,” 241–49; Leibner and Miller, “Khirbet Hamam Synagogue Mosaics.” 40. See, for instance, the tree trunks in Psalm 41/42, fig. 16. 41. It has also been called the “Elephant Panel.” Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” 92–95 and figs. 30–32; Williams, “Explore This Mysterious Mosaic.” 42. For a partial view of the Huqoq representation of the scene, see Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation

Project,” figs. 36 and 40. The Huqoq and Wadi Hamam depictions of the scene are additions to the other Jewish representation of that iconography that is found in the Dura Europos synagogue. 43. For Huqoq, see Magness et al., “Huqoq Excavation Project,” 99, fig. 36; 104, fig. 40. 44. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 275, fig. 350. 45. In my commentaries on the various psalms I have discussed the sun god, the seasons, the zodiac wheel with the torch-bearing figure of Virgo, the Temple facade, and the shofroth. 46. Levine, Visual Judaism, 243–59. 47. For the other seasons, see Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 269–70, figs. 343–46. 48. For Aquarius, see Talgam, 275, fig. 349. 49. Talgam, 268, fig. 342, and 156, figs. 245–46. 50. Talgam, 275, fig. 350. 51. Talgam, 275, fig. 348. 52. See, for instance, the sarcophagus in the illustration to Psalm 4, fol. 2v, fig. 1. 53. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 30, figs. 35 and 32, fig. 40 for the satyrs with “skirts.” In the Utrecht Psalter they can be seen, for instance, in the illustration of Psalm 8, fol. 4v. 54. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 31–32, figs. 38, 39, 42, 87; Utrecht Psalter, Psalms 21/22, fol. 12r; 22/23, fol. 13r; 32/33, fol. 18v; etc. 55. See the Amazons in the Nile Festival Building in Sepphoris, Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 361, fig. 451; for dancers in the Utrecht Psalter, see Psalm 41/42, fol. 24v; Psalm 149, fol. 83r. 56. For Sepphoris, see Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 291, fig. 358. For examples of the Temple in the Utrecht Psalter illustrations, see Psalms 5, 14/15, 18/19, 21/22, 115/116, etc. 57. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 46, fig. 65. 58. Talgam, 270, fig. 346. 59. Talgam, 270, fig. 346. 60. The same principle of giving a sense of three-dimensionality to cubic forms is applied in the representations of temples as illustrated, for instance, in Psalms 5, 18/19, 21/22, etc. 61. Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, pl. III -11. 62. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 291, fig. 358.

Notes to pages 131–135 · 177

63. See drawing in Talgam, 289, fig. 357. 64. Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis,” 127; Foerster, “Beth-Shean,” 223 and 233. 65. Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis,” 127–29; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 376. 66. Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis,” 128–29; Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 377. 67. For other examples of fish-beast monsters, see the illustration to Psalm 98 (fol. 56v) and Psalm 32/33 (fol. 18v). 68. Jentel, “Une Scylla méconnue,” 241–49. 69. Zori, “House of Kyrios Leontis,” 132. 70. Zori, 133. 71. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 378; paideia has been linked to the cultural ethos generally referred to as the Second Sophistic, whose adherents emphasized their continuity with earlier generations in Greece. They prioritized reinstating Attic Greek as the favored language of discourse. Levine, Visual Judaism, 86 n. 49; Elsner, “Paideia.” 72. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 377. 73. Talgam, 287, figs. 355, 285, 353, 377, and 466. 74. Safrai, Missing Century, 34–35. 75. Hachlili, Ancient Mosaic Pavements, 272–73. 76. Hachlili, pls. II -7 and III -11 and p. 232. 77. Dothan, Hammath Tiberias, 48, pl. 16, fig. 7. 78. Talgam, Mosaics of Faith, 275–76 and n. 105. 79. Talgam, 502 n. 105. 80. Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 562–63 and 573–74; Eliav, “Viewing the Sculptural Environment,” 415–33, esp. 423. 81. Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” esp. 562–64. 82. Weiss, 559; Eliav, “Viewing the Sculptural Environment.” 83. Strange, “Sepphoris: Jewel,” 31, fig. G ; Meshorer, City-Coins, 37; Weiss and Netzer, “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris”; Hoglung and Meyers, “Residential Quarter”; Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 564. 84. Weiss, “Sculptures and Sculptural Images,” 571–73 and fig. 5. A lion’s head was also uncovered. See fig. 6. 85. Eliav, “Viewing the Sculptural Environment.”

178 · Notes to pages 135–141

86. Eliav, 413–14. 87. Avigad, Beth Sheʿarim, 277. 88. Levine, Visual Judaism, 81 and 135. 89. Avigad, Beth Sheʿarim, 277 and pls. LII –LV : for the winged putto, LII , 4, and for a female exposing one bare breast, i.e., a possible Amazon, LII , 1. For the nude youth and crowned figure, see Levine, Visual Judaism, 127–28. 90. Avi-Yonah, Art in Ancient Palestine, 257–58, 265–66. 91. Avi-Yonah, 260; Levine, Visual Judaism, 82. 92. Avi-Yonah, Art in Ancient Palestine, 263–65. 93. Avi-Yonah, 267–69. 94. Levine, Visual Judaism, 82. 95. Levine, 126. 96. Levine, 82–83, 126, 135–40. 97. Foerster, “Ancient Synagogues of the Galilee,” 296. 98. Avigad believes that even the artists themselves were Jews. Avigad, Beth Sheʿarim, 279. 99. Kessler, “Traces of an Early Illustrated Pentateuch.” 100. Jerusalem Talmud, ʿAvodah Zarah 3, 3, 42d; 4, 1, 43d; quoted in Levine, Visual Judaism, 426–27. 101. Weitzmann, Illustrations in Roll and Codex, 47–57, 69–77, 112–14; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 75; Kessler, review of Tableaux synoptiques and of Les illustrations, 144. Sed-Rajna (“Further Thoughts”) hypothesizes a late antique Jewish manuscript as a source for similar images in the Laud Mahzor, the Ashburnham Pentateuch, and the three Touronian Carolingian Bibles. 102. Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts, 24, 35, fig. 10. 103. Sanders, Psalms Scroll of Qumran Cave 11. 104. Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts, 23 and 102. It contains forty-eight psalms and is 3.89 m in length, though it is impossible to know precisely the original length of the scroll. See Sirat, 4–5; see also Flint, Dead Sea Psalms Scroll. 105. A typical column is between 15 and 17 cm high. The widths of the lines are different, the average line being between 9 and 13 cm wide. For precise measurements, see Sanders, Psalms Scrolls of Qumran Cave 11, 4.

106. Weitzmann, Illustrations in Roll and Codex, 47–57 and figs. 36–40. 107. Weitzmann, 69–77. Weitzmann cites the fifth-century Vienna Genesis as an example of such a transference (89–93). 108. Weitzmann, 71–77. 109. Weitzmann, 71–77, figs. 56–63; Wüstefeld, Noel, and Van der Horst, “Catalogue,” 190–91, 198– 99, 224–25. 110. Weitzmann, Illustrations in Roll and Codex, fig. 101. It is dated from the fifth to seventh century. 111. Cecchelli, Furlani, and Salmi, “Miniatures from the Rabbula Gospels.” 112. Dufrenne, Tableaux synoptiques, n.p. See also Corrigan, Visual Polemics, 4–6. For an analysis of the ninth-century Byzantine psalters with marginal illustrations, see Corrigan, Visual Polemics, 104–23. 113. The Sacra Parallela is a collection of various writings with derivative miniatures copied from biblical and patristic texts. See Weitzmann, Miniatures of the Sacra Parallela, 107. 114. Kessler, review of Tableaux synoptiques, 144. 115. Illustrated in Weitzmann, Miniatures of the Sacra Parallela, fig. 203, fol. 207r. Weitzmann believes the Sacra Parallela was made in Palestine or in the Syro-Palestinian region in the first half of the ninth century, and that its model, possibly a pre-iconoclastic psalter, had literal illustrations in the form of column pictures interrupting the text column at the beginning of each new psalm (Miniatures of the Sacra Parallela, 25 and 108–10). 116. See Weitzmann, Illustrations in Roll and Codex, 89–97.

2. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 141–53, esp. 144–45. 3. Kessler, “Judaism and the Development of Byzantine Art,” 479–82. 4. Jerusalem Talmud, ʿAvodah Zarah 3, 3, 42d; quoted in Levine, Visual Judaism, 427. 5. Midr. Teh., Ps. 18, sect. 26; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:257–58. 6. See my discussion of Psalm 15/16. 7. The Carolingian artist has similarly given a Christological reinterpretation to Psalms 21/22 (Esther), 23/24, and 40/41 (Jesus in tomb). 8. They are also found in some lines in Paul’s Letter to the Romans, chapter 3, line 13. Paul cites these two phrases, one from Hebrew Psalm 5:10, “Their throat is an open sepulcher,” and one from Hebrew Psalm 140:4, “The venom of asps is under their lips.” For this illustration, see DeWald, Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter, fol. 7v; Psalm 13/14, fol. 7v; or “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition,” fol. 7v. 9. Dufrenne, “L’importance des ‘Cantica,’” 151; Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 74. 10. Van der Horst, “Utrecht Psalter,” 74. 11. Midr. Teh., Ps. 18, sect. 26; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:257. 12. See, for instance, my discussion of Psalm 36/37. 13. Dufrenne, introduction to Tableaux synoptiques. 14. Midr. Teh., Ps. 18, sect. 26; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:257. 15. Midr. Teh., Ps. 18, sect. 26; Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 1:257–58.

C onc l usion 1. Weiss, Sepphoris Synagogue, 141–53, esp. 144–45; Kessler, “Judaism and the Development of Byzantine Art,” 479–82. Early on Weitzmann proposed the existence of Jewish manuscript illustration; see Weitzmann, “Question of the Influence.” He saw such a tradition stemming from illustrations of the LXX, Josephus’s Antiquities of the Jews, and Jewish legend. He later modified his view.

Notes to pages 141–152 · 179

Bibliography

Amit, David. “Mosaic Inscription from a Synagogue at Horvat Huqoq.” Bible History Daily. Biblical Archaeology Society. http://www.biblicalarchaeology.org/daily /biblical-artifacts/inscriptions/mosaic -inscription-from-a-synagogue-at-horvat -huqoq. “Ancient Hydraulis.” The Archaeology Channel. https://www.archaeologychannel.org /video-guide/video-guide/video-guide-list /109-the-ancient-hydraulis. Anderson, Gary A. “King David and the Psalms of Imprecation.” In The Harp of Prophecy, edited by Brian E. Daley and Paul R. Kolbet, 29–45. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. Apel, Willi. “Early History of the Organ.” Speculum 23 (1948): 191–216. Apple, Rabbi Dr. Raymond. “David Kimchi’s Response to Christianity in His Psalm Commentary.” OzTorah. http://www.oztorah.com/2010/02/david -kimchis-response-to-christianity-in-his -psalm-commentary. Athanasius. Expositiones in Psalmos. PG 27. Paris: P. Geuthner, 1857. Au, Anson, and Joe Yeh. “Ctesibius: 285–22 BCE , Alexandria, Greece.” Biographies Pioneers of Computing A –J . The History of Computing Project. https://www.thocp.net/biographies /ctesibius.htm.

Augustine. Exposition on the Book of Psalms. Edited by Philip Schaff. Christian Classics Ethereal Library. 2005. http://www.ccel.org/ccel/schaff /npnf108.toc.html. Aviam, Mordechai, and Kfar Vradim. “The Decorated Stone from the Synagogue at Migdal: A Holistic Interpretation and a Glimpse into the Life of Galilean Jews at the Time of Jesus.” Novum Testamentum 55 (2013): 205–20. Avigad, Nahman. Beth Sheʿarim: Report on the Excavations During 1953–1958. Vol. 3, Catacombs 12–23. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press on behalf of the Israel Exploration Society and the Institute of Archaeology, Hebrew University, 1976. ———. “The ‘Galilean’ Synagogue and Its Predecessors.” In Ancient Synagogues Revealed, edited by Lee I. Levine, 42–44. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1982. Avigad, Nahman, and B. Mazer. “Beth Sheʿarim.” In Encyclopaedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land, edited by E. Stern, 1:236–48. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1975. Avi-Yonah, Michael. “Ancient Synagogues.” Ariel 32 (1973): 29–43. ———. Art in Ancient Palestine. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, The Hebrew University, 1981. ———. “Caesarea Inscription of the Twenty-Four Priestly Courses.” In The Teacher’s Yoke: Studies in Memory of Henry Trantham, edited by E. J. Vardaman et al., 46–57. Waco: Baylor University Press, 1964.

Babylonian Talmud. Edited by Isidore Epstein. 35 vols. London: Soncino, 1935–52. Web version at halakhah.com. Bahat, D. “A Synagogue at Beth-Shean.” In Ancient Synagogues Revealed, edited by Lee I. Levine, 82–87. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1982. Barasch, Moshe. The Language of Art: Studies in Interpretation. New York: New York University Press, 1997. Bar-Efrat, Shimon. “First Samuel: Introduction and Annotations [Revised by Marc Zvi Brettler].” In The Jewish Study Bible: Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler, 545–604. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Basil of Caesarea. “A Psalm of the Lot of the Just Man: Homily 10, On Psalm 1.” In Exegetic Homilies, translated by A. Way, 46:151–64. The Fathers of the Church. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1963. Benson, G. R., and D. T. Tselos. “New Light on the Origins of the Utrecht Psalter.” Art Bulletin 13 (1931): 12–79. Benzinger, Immanuel, and Judah David Eisenstein. “Incense.” In Jewish Encyclopedia, 1906 ed. http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com /articles/8099-incense. Berlin, Adele, and Marc Zvi Brettler. “Psalms: Introduction and Annotations.” In The Jewish Study Bible: Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler, 1265–1435. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Bessette, Lisa. “The Visualization of the Contents of the Psalms in the Early Middle Ages.” PhD diss., University of Michigan, 2005. Birch, Walter de Gray. The History, Art, and Palaeography of the Manuscript Styled the Utrecht Psalter. London: Samuel Bagster & Sons, 1876. Blaha, Josef, and Gerald Cary-Elwes. Reflections on Jewish Mysticism. Prague: Josef Blaha, 2013. Blaising, Craig A., and Carmen S. Hardin, eds. Psalms 1–50. Ancient Christian Commentary

182 · Bibliography

on Scripture: Old Testament, vol. 7. Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2008. Bond, Sarah. “Discovery of Jewish Mosaics in Israel Brings Color to Biblical Accounts.” Hyperallergic. https://hyperallergic.com/451212 /discovery-of-jewish-mosaics-in-israel-bring -color-to-biblical-accounts/. Bowersock, Glen Warren. Mosaics as History: The Near East from Late Antiquity to Islam. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2006. Braude, William G. The Midrash on Psalms. Vols. 1–2. Translated by William G. Braude. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1959. Braun, Eliot. “Soundings Under a Sixth-Century Monastery at Beth Shean (Sycthopolis).” Atigot 17 (1985): 201–4. Brettler, Marc Zvi. “Kethuvim: Introduction.” In The Jewish Study Bible: Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler, 1263–64. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Britt, Matthew. A Dictionary of the Psalter, Containing the Vocabulary of the Psalms, Hymns, Canticles, and Miscellaneous Prayers of the Breviary Psalter. New York: Benziger Bros., 1928. Brown, Francis, et al. The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2008. Buchthal, Hugo. The Miniatures of the Paris Psalter: A Study in Middle Byzantine Painting. London: The Warburg Institute, 1938. Reprint, Nendeln, Liechtenstein: Kraus Reprint, 1968. Cameron, Michael. “The Emergence of Totus Christus as Hermeneutical Center in Augustine’s Enarrationes in Psalmos.” In The Harp of Prophecy, edited by Brian E. Daley and Paul R. Kolbet, 205–26. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. Carder, James Nelson. “Vault Decoration with Christ/ Helios.” In Age of Spirituality: Late Antique and Early Christian Art, Third to Seventh Century, edited by Kurt Weitzmann, 522–23. Exhibition

catalogue, Metropolitan Museum of Art. New York: Princeton University Press, 1979. Carr, Annemarie Weyl. Review of Studies in the Manuscripts of the Septuagint I: The Cotton Genesis, by K. Weitzmann and H. Kessler. Critical Review of Books in Religion 1 (1988): 340–45. Cassiodorus. Explanation of the Psalms. Translated by P. G. Walsh. Vols. 1–2. Ancient Christian Writers. New York: Paulist Press, 1990. Cecchelli, Carlo, Guiseppe Furlani, and Mario Salmi, eds. “Miniatures from the Rabbula Gospels.” In Facsimile Edition of the Miniatures of the Syriac Manuscript (Plut, 1, 56). Olten: Urs Graf-Verlag, 1959. Chazelle, Celia. “Archbishops Ebo and Hincmar of Reims and the Utrecht Psalter.” Speculum 72 (1997): 1055–77. ———. Crucified God in the Carolingian Era. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001. ———. “Violence and the Virtuous Ruler in the Utrecht Psalter.” In The Illuminated Psalter: Studies in the Content, Purpose, and Placement of Its Images, edited by F. O. Büttner, 337–48. Turnhout: Brepols, 2004. Chrysostom, John. Commentary on the Psalms. Translated by Robert C. Hill. 2 vols. Brookline, Mass.: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1998. Cooper, Alan. “Creation, Philosophy, and Spirituality: Aspects of Jewish Interpretation of Psalm 19.” In Pursuing the Text: Studies in Honor of Ben Zion Wacholder on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday, edited by John C. Reeves and John Kampen, 15–33. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994. Coupland, Simon. “Carolingian Arms and Armor in the Ninth Century.” Viator 21 (1990): 29–50. Corrigan, Kathleen. “Early Medieval Psalter Illustration in Byzantium and the West.” In The Utrecht Psalter in Medieval Art: Picturing the Psalms of David, edited by Koert van der Horst, William Noel, and Wilhelmina C. M. Wüstefeld, 85–103. Tuurdijk, Netherlands: Hes, 1996.

———. Visual Polemics in the Ninth-Century Byzantine Psalters. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Cutler, Anthony. “The End of Antiquity.” Journal of Roman Archaeology 2 (1989): 401–9. Cytryn-Silverman, Katia. “Tiberias, from Its Foundation to the End of the Early Islamic Period.” In Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods, edited by David A. Fiensy and James Riley Strange, 2:186–210. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015. Dahood, Mitchell. Psalms I : 1–50. Anchor Bible. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1966. ———. Psalms II : 51–100. Anchor Bible. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1968. ———. Psalms III : 101–50. Anchor Bible. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970. Daley, Brian E., and Paul R Kolbet. “Finding the Right Key.” In The Harp of Prophecy, edited by Brian E. Daley and Paul R. Kolbet. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. Degering, Hermann. Die Orgel ihre Erfindung und ihre Geschichte bis zur Karolingerzeit. Münster: Coppenrathsche Buchhandlung, 1905. DeWald, E. T. The Illustrations of the Utrecht Psalter. Princeton: Princeton University Press, [1932]. ———. The Stuttgart Psalter. Princeton: Department of Art and Archaeology of Princeton University, 1930. Dolan, Marion. “The Role of Illustrated Aratea Manuscripts in the Transmission of Astronomical Knowledge in the Middle Ages.” PhD diss., University of Pittsburgh, 2007. Dothan, Moshe. Hammath Tiberias: Early Synagogues and the Hellenistic and Roman Remains. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1983. Dufrenne, Suzy. Les illustrations du Psautier d’Utrecht: Sources et apport carolingien. Paris: Éditions Ophrys, 1978. ———. “L’importance des ‘Cantica’ dans l’étude des sources de l’illustration du Psautier d’Utrecht.” Bulletin de la Société nationale des antiquaires de France (1976): 149–59.

Bibliography · 183

———. Tableaux synoptiques de 15 psautiers médiévaux à illustrations integrales issues du texte. Paris: Association des amis des études archéologiques byzantines slaves, 1978. Dunbabin, Katherine M. D. Mosaics of the Greek and Roman World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Elbaum, Jacob. “Yalkut Shimoni.” In Encyclopaedia Judaica, edited by Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik, 21:275–76. 2nd ed. Detroit: Macmillan Reference, 2007. Eliav, Y. Z. “Viewing the Sculptural Environment.” In The Talmud Yerushalmi and Greco-Roman Culture, edited by P. Schaefer, 3:411–33. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002. Elsner, Jas. “Archaeologies and Agendas: Reflections on Late Ancient Jewish Art and Early Christian Art.” Journal of Roman Studies 93 (2003): 114–28. ———. Art and the Roman Viewer: The Transformation of Art from the Pagan World to Christianity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. ———. “Paideia: Ancient Concept and Modern Reception.” International Journal of the Classical Tradition 20 (2013): 136–52. Eshel, Esther. “The Bible in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” In The Jewish Study Bible: Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler, 1850–58. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Eusebius. Commentarii in Psalmos. PG 23. Paris: P. Geuthner, 1857. ———. “Commentary on the Psalms, 13:1–4.” In Psalms 1–50, edited by Craig A. Blaising and Carmen S. Hardin, 103–7. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: Old Testament, vol. 7. Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2008. Even-Shoshan, Avraham. Ha-Milon he-hadash. Vols. 1–3. Jerusalem: Kiryat-Sefer, 1980. Feuer, Avrohom Chaim. Tehillim: A New Translation with a Commentary Anthologized from Talmudic, Midrashic, and Rabbinic Sources. 2 vols. Brooklyn: Mesorah, 1985.

184 · Bibliography

Fine, Steven. Art and Judaism in the Greco-Roman World: Toward a New Jewish Archaeology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010. ———. Art, History, and the Historiography of Judaism in Roman Antiquity. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2016. ———. This Holy Place: On the Sanctity of the Synagogue in the Greco-Roman Period. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1997. Finney, Paul Corby. The Invisible God: The Earliest Christians on Art. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994. Fitzgerald, Gerald M. A Sixth-Century Monastery at Beth-Shan (Scythopolis). Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1939. Flint, Peter W. The Dead Sea Psalms Scroll and the Book of Psalms. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1997. ———. “Psalm 151 and the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Bible Odyssey. http://bibleodyssey.org/en/passages /related-articles/psalm-151-and-the-dead-sea -scrolls.aspx. Foerster, Gideon. “Allegorical and Symbolic Motifs with Christian Significance from the Mosaic Pavements of Sixth-Century Palestinian Synagogues.” In Christian Archaeology in the Holy Land, edited by G. D. Bottini, 545–52. Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press, 1990. ———. “Ancient Synagogues of the Galilee.” In The Galilee in Late Antiquity, edited by Lee I. Levine, 289–319. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1992. ———. “Architectural Models of the GrecoRoman Period and the Origin of the ‘Galilean’ Synagogue.” In Ancient Synagogues Revealed, edited by Lee I. Levine, 45–48. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1982. ———. “Beth-Shean at the Foot of the Mound.” In The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land, edited by E. Stern, 1:223–35. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1993. Frankel, Robert Howard. “Hebrew Literature Reflected in the Utrecht Psalter Illustrations.” Master’s thesis, State University of New York at Binghamton, 1967.

Gaehde, Joachim. “The Draughtsmen of the Utrecht Psalter.” In Studien zur mittelalterlichen Kunst 800–1250: Festschrift fur Florentine Muetherich zum 70 Geburtstag, edited by Katharina Bierbrauer, Peter K. Klein, and Willibald Sauerlander. Munich: Prestel, 1985. ———. Review of Les illustrations du Psaltier d’Utrecht, by S. Dufrenne. Kunstchronik 35 (1982): 396–405. Gaster, Theodor H. “Belial.” In Encyclopaedia Judaica, edited by Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik, 18:289–90. Detroit: Macmillan Reference, 2007. Goldman, Bernard. The Sacred Portal: A Primary Symbol in Ancient Judaic Art. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1966. Goodman, Martin. “The Jewish Image of God in Late Antiquity.” In Jewish Culture and Society Under the Christian Roman Empire, edited by R. L. Kalmin and S. Schwartz, 133–45. Leuven: Peeters, 2003. Grabar, André. “Fresques romanes copiés sur les miniatures du Pentateuque du Tours.” Cahiers archéologiques 9 (1957): 329–41. ———. “Recherches sur les sources juives de l’art paléochrétien.” Cahiers archéologiques 14 (1964): 49–57. Grob, Dennis, E. “Jews and Christians in Late Roman Palestine.” Biblical Archaeologist 51 (1988): 80–96. Gruber, Mayer I. Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms. Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2007. Gruen, Erich S. “Hellenism, Hellenization.” In The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism, edited by John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow, 723–26. Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans, 2010. Gundel, Hans Georg. Zodiakos: Tierksreisbilder im Altertum; Kosmiche Bezuge und Jenseitzvorstellungen im antiken Alltagsleben. Mainz: Verlag Philipp von Zabern, 1992. Gutmann, Joseph. The Dura-Europos Synagogue: A Re-evaluation (1932–1992). Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992.

———. “The Dura Europos Synagogue Paintings and Their Influence on Later Christian and Jewish Art.” Artibus et historiae 17 (1988): 25–32. ———. “Early Synagogue and Jewish Catacomb Art and Its Relation to Christian Art.” In Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt, edited by Hildegard Temporini and W. Haase, 2:1313–42. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1984. ———. “Haggadic Motif in Jewish Iconography.” Eretz-Israel: Archaeological, Historical, and Geographical Studies. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1960, 16–22. ———. “Illustrated Jewish Manuscript in Antiquity: The Present State of the Question.” In No Graven Images: Studies in Art and the Hebrew Bible, edited by Joseph Gutmann, 232–48. New York: Ktav, 1971. ———. “Illustrated Midrash in the Dura Synagogue Paintings.” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 50 (1983): 91–104. ———. “Jewish Origin of the Ashburnham Pentateuch Miniatures.” Jewish Quarterly Review 44 (1953): 55–72. Hachlili, Rachel. Ancient Jewish Art and Archaeology in the Diaspora. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1998. ———. Ancient Mosaic Pavements: Themes, Issues, and Trends. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2009. ———. Ancient Synagogues. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2013. ———. “A Symbol of the Deity: Artistic Rendition of the ‘Hand of God’ in Ancient Jewish and Early Christian Art.” In Case Studies in Archaeology and World Religion: The Proceedings of the Cambridge Conference, edited by Timothy Insoll, 59–70. Oxford: B. A. R. International Series 755, 1999. Hagan, Stephanie. “Time, Memory, and Mosaics at the Monastery of Lady Mary.” Expedition: The Magazine of the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology 55 (2013): 37–42. Harrison, Nonna Verna. “Gender Allegories in Basil of Caesarea.” In The Harp of Prophecy, edited by Brian E. Daley and Paul R. Kolbet, 127–48.

Bibliography · 185

Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. Hebrew-English Bible: According to the Masoretic Text and the JPS 1917 Edition. 2016, all rights reserved to Mechon Mamre. http://www.mechon-mamre.org/p/pt/pt0.htm. Hezser, Catherine. “Jewish Literacy and the Use of Writing in Late Roman Palestine.” In Jewish Culture and Society Under the Christian Roman Empire, edited by Richard Kalmin and Seth Schwartz, 149–95. Leuven: Peeters, 2003. ———. Jewish Literacy in Roman Palestine. Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 2001. ———. “Palestinian Rabbis’ Encounter with GraecoRoman Paganism: Rabban Gamiliel in the Bathhouse of Aphrodite in Acco.” Jewish/ non-Jewish Relations—Between Exclusion and Embrace. https://jnjr.div.ed.ac.uk /primary-sources/rabbinic/palestinian-rabbis -encounter-with-graeco-roman-paganism -rabban-gamliel-in-the-bathhouse-of -aphrodite-in-acco-m-a-z-34. Hirsch, Emil G., Ludwig Blau, Solomon Schecter, and Kaufmann Kohler. “Dwarf.” In Jewish Encyclopedia, 1906 ed. http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com /articles/5381-dwarf. Hirsch, Emil G., Richard Gottheil, Kaufmann Kohler, and Isaac Broydé. “Demonology.” In Jewish Encyclopedia, 1906 ed. http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com /articles/5085-demonology. Hirsch, Emil G., Kaufmann Kohler, Solomon Schechter, and Isaac Broydé. “Leviathan and Behemoth.” In Jewish Encyclopedia, 1906 ed. http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com /articles/9841-leviathan-and-behemoth. Hoglund, K., and E. M. Meyers. “The Residential Quarter.” In Sepphoris in the Galilee, edited by Rebecca Martin Nagy et al., 38–43. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1996. Horst, Koert van der. “The Utrecht Psalter: Picturing the Psalms of David.” In The Utrecht Psalter in Medieval Art: Picturing the Psalms of David, edited by Koert van der Horst, William Noel, and 186 · Bibliography

Wilhelmina C. M. Wüstefeld, 22–84. Tuurdijk, Netherlands: Hes, 1996. Houghton, Grace L. “Cassiodorus and the Utrecht Psalter.” Acta 6 (1979): 45–62. Humphrey, John H. Roman Circuses: Arenas for Chariot Racing. London: B. T. Batsford, 1986. Hutt, Curtis. “A Threefold Heresy: Reassessing Jewish, Christian, and Islamic Animal Sacrifice in Late Antiquity.” History of Religions 58, no. 3 (2019): 251–76. Ibn Ezra, Abraham. Abraham Ibn Ezra’s Commentary on the First Book of Psalms. Translated by H. Norman Strickman. Vol. 1. Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2009. ———. Abraham Ibn Ezra’s Commentary on the Second Book of Psalms. Translated by H. Norman Strickman. Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2009. ———. Mikraʾot Gedolot. Jerusalem: Mekor haSefarim, 1999. Jacobs, Andrew S. Remains of the Jews. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2004. Jacobs, Joseph, and Ludwig Blau. “Holy Spirit.” In Jewish Encyclopedia, 1906 ed. http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com /articles/7833-holy-spirit. Jacoby, Ruth. “The Four Seasons in Zodiac Mosaics: The Tallaras Baths in Astypalaea, Greece.” Israel Exploration Journal 51, no. 2 (2001): 225–30. Jastrow, Marcus. A Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1903. Jentel, Marie-Odile. “Une Scylla méconnue sur une mosaïque.” In Agathos daimon: Mythes et cultes; Études d’iconographie en l’honneur de Lilly Kahil, edited by J. Balty et al., 241–48. Athens: École Française d’Athènes, 2000. Jerome. The Homilies of Saint Jerome. Translated by Marie Liguori Ewald. 2 vols. The Fathers of the Church. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1964, 1966. ———. Psalterium Iuxta Hebraeos Hieronymi. Edited by J. M. Harden. London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1922.

Johnson, William A. Readers and Reading Culture in the High Roman Empire: A Study of Elite Communities. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010. Josephus, Flavius. The Antiquities of the Jews. Translated by William Whiston. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Calvin College, Christian Classics Ethereal Library, 2017. Project Gutenburg. http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2848/2848-h /2848-h.htm#link152HCH0011. ———. The Wars of the Jews; Or, The History of the Destruction of Jerusalem. Translated by William Whiston. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Calvin College, Christian Classics Ethereal Library, 1737. Project Gutenburg. http://www.gutenberg.org /files/2850/2850-h/2850-h.htm. Justin Martyr. Dialogue with Trypho. Translated by Thomas B. Falls. Edited by Michael Slusser. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2003. Katzenstein, Ranée, and Emilie Savage-Smith. The Leiden Aratea: Ancient Constellations in a Medieval Manuscript. Los Angeles: Getty Publications, 1988. Keel, Othmar, and Christoph Uehlinger. Gods, Goddesses, and the Images of God in Ancient Israel. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1998. Kessler, Herbert. “An Apostle in Armor and the Mission of Carolingian Art.” Arte medievale 2nd ser., 4 (1990): 17–39. ———. “Codex Barbarus Scaligeri, the ‘Christian Topography,’ and the Question of Jewish Models of Early Christian Art.” In Between Judaism and Christianity: Pictorials Playing on Mutual Grounds, edited by Katrin KogmanAppel and M. Meyer, 139–53. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2009. ———. “Gazing at the Future: The Parousia Miniature in Vatican gr. 699.” In Byzantine East, Latin West: Art-Historical Studies in Honor of Kurt Weitzmann, edited by Doula Mouriki et al., 365–75. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995. ———. Illustrated Bibles from Tours. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977.

———. “Judaism and the Development of Byzantine Art.” In Jews in Byzantium: Dialectics of Minority and Majority Cultures, edited by Robert Bonfil et al., 455–99. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2011. ———. “Pictures as Scripture in Fifth-Century Churches.” Studia artium orientalis et occidentalis 2 (1985): 17–31. ———. Review of Tableaux synoptiques de 15 Psautiers medievaux (Paris, 1978) and Les illustrations du Psautier d’Utrecht: Sources et apport Carolingien (Paris, 1978), by S. Dufrenne. Art Bulletin 63 (1981): 142–45. ———. “Sepphoris Mosaic and Christian Art.” In From Dura to Sepphoris: Studies in Jewish Art and Society in Late Antiquity, edited by Lee I. Levine and Zeev Weiss, 64–72. Portsmouth, R.I.: Journal of Roman Archaeology, 2000. ———. “Through the Temple Veil: The Holy Image in Judaism and Christianity.” Kairos: Zeitschrift für Religionswissenschaft und Theologie 32–33 (1990–91): 53–77. ———. “Traces of an Early Illustrated Pentateuch.” Jewish Art Journal 8 (1981): 20–27. Kessler, Herbert, and Johanna Zacharias. Rome 1300: On the Path of the Pilgrim. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000. Kimchi, David. The Commentary of Rabbi David Kimcḥi on Psalms CXX –CL . Edited and translated by Ernest Nicholson and Joshua Baker. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1973. ———. The Longer Commentary of R. David Kimchi on the First Book of Psalms. Translated by R. G. Finch. London: Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, 1919. https://archive.org /stream/longercommentary00kimhrich#page /n9. Kitzinger, Ernst. “Observations on the Samson Floor on Mopsuestia.” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 27 (1973): 133–44. Koehler, Wilhelm, and Florentine Muetherich. Die karolingischen Miniaturen 6: Die Schule von Reims. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissenschaft, 1994.

Bibliography · 187

Kogman-Appel, Katrin. “Bible Illustration and the Jewish Tradition.” In Imaging the Early Medieval Bible, edited by John Williams, 61–96. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2002. ———. “Exoduszyklus der Sarajevo Haggada: Bemerkungen zur Arbeitsweise spätmittelalterlicher jüdischer Illuminatoren und ihrem Umgang mit Vorlagen.” Gesta 35, no. 2 (1996): 111–27. ———. “Sephardic Picture Cycles and the Rabbinic Tradition: Continuity and Innovation in Jewish Iconography.” Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 60, no. 4 (1997): 451–81. Kolbet, Paul R. “Athanasius, the Psalms, and the Reformation of the Self.” In The Harp of Prophecy, edited by Brian E. Daley and Paul R. Kolbet, 75–96. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. Kraeling, Carl Hermann. The Synagogue. The Excavations at Dura Europos, Final Report, 8.1. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1956. Kraft, Robert A., and Ann-Elizabeth Purintun. Paraleipomena Jeremiou. Missoula, Mont.: Society of Biblical Literature, 1972. Krautheimer, Richard, and Slobodan Curcic. Early Christian and Byzantine Architecture. New York: Penguin, 1986. Kühnel, Bianca. “The Synagogue Floor Mosaic in Sepphoris: Between Paganism and Christianity.” In From Dura to Sepphoria: Studies in Jewish Art and Society in Late Antiquity, edited by Lee I. Levine and Zeev Weiss, 31–43. Portsmouth, R.I.: Journal of Roman Archaeology, 2000. Lange, Nicholas de. “The Revival of the Hebrew Language in the Third Century CE .” Jewish Studies Quarterly 3, no. 4 (1996): 342–58. Lapin, Hayim. “Rabbis and Cities in Later Roman Palestine: The Literary Evidence.” Journal of Jewish Studies 50, no. 2 (1999): 187–207. Leibner, Uzi. “Khirbet Wadi Hamam in the Early and Middle Roman Periods.” In Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods, edited

188 · Bibliography

by David A. Fiensy and James Riley Strange, 2:343–61. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015. Leibner, Uzi, and Shulamit Miller. “Appendix: A Figural Mosaic in the Synagogue at Khirbet Wadi Hamam.” Journal of Roman Archaeology 23 (2010): 238–63. ———. “The Khirbet Hamam Synagogue Mosaics.” In Visual Judaism in Late Antiquity: Historical Contexts of Jewish Art, edited by Lee I. Levine, 171–76. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013. Levin, Inabelle. The Quedlinburg Itala: The Oldest Illustrated Biblical Manuscript. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1985. Levine, Amy-Jill, and Marc Zvi Brettler, eds. The Jewish Annotated New Testament. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. Levine, Lee I. Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000. ———. “Ancient Synagogues—A Historical Introduction.” In Ancient Synagogues Revisited, edited by Lee I. Levine, 1–10. Jerusalem: The Israel Exploration Society, 1982. ———. Ancient Synagogues Revealed. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1982. ———. “Contextualizing Jewish Art.” In Jewish Culture and Society Under the Christian Roman Empire, edited by R. L. Kalmin and S. Schwartz, 91–131. Leuven: Peeters, 2003. ———. “Development of Synagogue Liturgy in Late Antiquity.” In Galilee Through the Centuries, edited by Eric M. Meyers, 123–44. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1999. ———. “Jewish Archaeology in Late Antiquity: Art, Architecture, and Inscriptions.” In The Cambridge History of Judaism, vol. 4, The Late Roman-Rabbinic Period, edited by Steven T. Katz, 519–55. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. ———. Judaism and Hellenism in Antiquity: Conflict or Confluence? Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1998. ———. “Sages and the Synagogue in Late Antiquity.” In The Galilee in Late Antiquity, edited by

Lee I. Levine, 201–22. New York: The Jewish Theological Seminay of America, 1992. ———. “Status of the Patriarch in the Third and Fourth Centuries: Sources and Methodology.” Journal of Jewish Studies 47 (1996): 1–32. ———. Visual Judaism in Late Antiquity: Historical Contexts of Jewish Art. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013. Levine, Lee I., and Zeev Weiss. From Dura to Sepphoris: Studies in Jewish Art and Society in Late Antiquity. Portsmouth, R.I.: Journal of Roman Archaeology, 2000. Living Nach: Sacred Writings; A New Translation based on Traditional Jewish Sources: Psalms, Proverbs, Job, Five Megilloth, Daniel, Ezra, Nehemiah, Chronicles. Vol. 3. New York: Mozniam, 1998. Loerke, William C. “Observations on the Representations of Doxa in the Mosaics of S. Maria Maggiore, Rome, and St. Catherine’s, Sinai.” Gesta 20 (1981): 15–22. Lowden, John. “Concerning the Cotton Genesis and Other Illustrated Manuscripts of Genesis.” Gesta 31 (1992): 40–53. ———. Octateuchs: A Study in Byzantine Manuscript Illustration. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992. Magness, Jodi. “Heaven on Earth: Helios and the Zodiac Cycle in Ancient Palestinian Synagogues.” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 59 (2005): 1–52. ———. “Huqoq, Preliminary Report.” In Israel Antiquities Authority, Hadashot Arkheologiyot— Excavations and Surveys in Israel 125, 126, 128 (2013, 2014, 2015). http://www.hadashot-esi.org.il/report_detail _eng.aspx?id=1959&mag_id=119. ———. “Samson in the Synagogue.” Biblical Archaeology Review 39 (2013): 32–39. ———. “Scholar’s Update: New Mosaics from Huqoq.” Biblical Archaeology Review 39 (2013): 66–68. Magness, Jodi, et al. “The Huqoq Excavation Project: 2014–2017, Interim Report.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 380 (Nov.

2018): 61–131. http://huqoq.web.unc.edu /reports. Maguire, Henry. “The Good Life.” In Interpreting Late Antiquity: Essays on the Postclassical World, edited by G. W. Bowersock, Peter Brown, and Oleg Grabar, 238–57. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2001. Mann, Jacob. “Some Midrashic Genizah Fragments.” Hebrew Union College Annual 14 (1939): 303–58. Mathews, Thomas. The Clash of Gods: A Reinterpretation of Early Christian Art. Rev. ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999. McCarthy, S. J. “An Ecclesiology of Groaning.” In The Harp of Prophecy, edited by Brian E. Daley and Paul R. Kolbet, 205–56. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. McGurk, Patrick. “Carolingian Astrological Manuscripts.” In Charles the Bald: Court and Kingdom; Papers Based on a Colloquium Held in London in April 1979, edited by Margaret T. Gibson and Janet L. Nelson, 317–32. BAR International Series 101. Oxford: BAR , 1981. McKitterick, Rosamond. “The Historical Context: Carolingian Wealth, Faith, and Culture.” In The Utrecht Psalter in Medieval Art: Picturing the Psalms of David, edited by Koert van der Horst, William Noel, and Wilhelmina C. M. Wüstefeld, 1–21. Tuurdijk, Netherlands: Hes, 1996. Meshorer, Yaʾakov. City-Coins of Eretz Israel and the Decapolis in the Roman Period. Jerusalem: The Israel Museum, 1985. Meyers, Eric M. “Early Judaism and Early Christianity.” Biblical Archaeologist 51 (1988): 69–79. Meyers, Eric M., Carol L. Meyers, and Benjamin D. Gordon. “Sepphoris: Residential Area of the Western Summit.” In Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods, edited by David A. Fiensy and James Riley Strange, 2:39–52. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015. Miller, Stuart. “‘Epigraphical’ Rabbis, Helios, and Psalm 19: Were the Synagogues of Archaeology and the Synagogues of the Sages One and the

Bibliography · 189

Same?” Jewish Quarterly Review, n.s. 94 (2004): 27–76. ———. “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris: The Historical Evidence.” In Sepphoris in Galilee, edited by Rebecca Martin Nagy et al., 21–28. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1996. ———. “Jewish Sepphoris.” In Sepphoris in the Galilee, edited by Rebecca Martin Nagy et al., 58–65. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1996. ———. “Rabbis and the Non-Existent Monolithic Synagogue.” In Jews, Christians, and Polytheists in the Ancient Synagogue, edited by Steven Fine, 57–70. London: Routledge, 1999. Monfrin, Françoise. “Quelques pistes de réflexion à propos du traitement de la mandorle dans le Psautier d’Utrecht.” Semitica et Classica 2 (2009): 167–201. Muetherich, Florentine. “Carolingian Manuscript Illumination in Rheims.” In The Utrecht Psalter in Medieval Art: Picturing the Psalms of David, edited by Koert van der Horst, William Noel, and Wilhelmina C. M. Wüstefeld, 104–19. Tuurdijk, Netherlands: Hes, 1996. Najman, Hindy. “Ezra: Introduction and Notes.” In The Jewish Study Bible: Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler, 1666–67. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Narkiss, Bezalel. “Scribes and Artists of the Ashburnham Pentateuch.” In Tributes to Jonathan J. G. Alexander: The Making and Meaning of Illuminated Medieval and Renaissance Manuscripts, Art, and Architecture, edited by S. L’Engle and G. B. Guest, 141–58. London: Harvey Miller, 2006. ———. “Towards a Further Study of the Ashburnham Pentateuch.” Cahiers archaéologiques 19 (1969): 45–60. Ness, Lester J. Written in the Stars: Ancient Zodiac Mosaics. Warren Center, Pa.: Shangri-La, 1999. Neusner, Jacob. “Jewish Use of Pagan Symbols After 70 C.E.” Journal of Religion 43, no. 4 (1963): 285–94.

190 · Bibliography

New English Translation of the Septuagint. Translated by Albert Pietersma. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Ngo, Robin. “Huqoq 2015: New Mosaics Unearthed at Huqoq.” Bible History Daily. https://www .biblicalarchaeology.org/daily/news/huqoq-2015 -new-mosaics-unearthed-at-huqoq-synagogue. Nicene Creed. Christian Classical Ethereal Library. 2005. http://www.ccel.org/ccel/brannan /hstcrcon.iv.html. Nickel, Heinrich L. Byzantinische Kunst. Heidelberg: L. Schneider, 1964. Niermeyer, J. F., and C. van de Kieft, eds. Mediae Latinitatis Lexicon Minus. Rev. J. W. J. Burgers. Brill Online Dictionaries. http://dictionaries .brillonline.com.proxy.bc.edu/niermeyer. Noel, William. “Medieval Charades and the Visual Syntax of the Utrecht Psalter.” In Studies in the Illustration of the Psalter, edited by Brendan Cassidy and Rosemary Muir Wright, 34–41. Stamford, Lincolnshire: Shaun Tyas, 2000. Oakes, Catherine. “The Scales: An Iconographic Motif of Justice, Redemption, and Intercession.” Maria: A Journal of Marian Studies 1 (2000): 11–36. Origen, On the Psalms. PG 12. Paris: P. Geuthner, 1857. Panofsky, Dora. “The Textual Basis of the Utrecht Psalter Illustrations.” Art Bulletin 25 (1943): 50–58. Perler, Othmar. “Les théophanies dans les mosaïques de Sainte-Marie-Majeure à Rome.” Rivista di archeologia cristiana 50 (1974): 281–84. Perry, T. A. Psalm 19: Hymn of Unification. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2016. Pesikta de-Rab Kahana. Translated by William G. Braude and Israel J. Kapstein. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 2002. Physiologus Bernensis. Bern, Burgerbibliothek cod. 318. https://www.e-codices.unifr.ch/en/list/one /bbb/0318. Poupko, Rabbi Yehiel E. “Introduction to the New Edition.” In Pesikta de-Rab Kahana, translated

by William G. Braude and Israel J. Kapstein, xi– xxxi. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 2002. Psalterium Latinum. Utrecht Psalter. University of Utrecht. http://objects.library.uu.nl/reader /index.php?obj=1874-284427&lan=en#page//11 /51/45/11514575807329943 91897458003 8627186 786.jpg/mode/1up. Rabinowitz, Louis Isaac. “Satan.” In Encyclopaedia Judaica, edited by Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik, 18:72–73. 2nd ed. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA , 2007. Rajak, Tessa. Translation and Survival: The Greek Bible of the Ancient Jewish Diaspora. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. Rashi. “Commentary on Esther.” In The Complete Jewish Bible with Rashi Commentary. Chabad. org. https://www.chabad.org/library /bible_cdo/aid/16474/jewish/Chapter-1.htm #showrashi=true. Revel-Neher, Elisheva. “From Dream to Reality: Evolution and Continuity in Jewish Art.” In From Dura to Sepphoris: Studies in Jewish Art and Society in Late Antiquity, edited by Lee Levine and Zeev Weiss, 53–63. Portsmouth, R.I.: Journal of Roman Archaeology, 2000. Riesch, Holger. “‘Quod nullus in hostem habeat bacullum sed arcum’: Pfeil und Bogen als Beispiel fur technologische Innovationen der Karolingerzeit.” Technikgeschichte 61 (1994): 209–26. Rosner, Fred. “Amputee.” In Encyclopedia of Medicine in the Bible and the Talmud, 16–17. Northvale, N.J.: Jason Aronson, 2000. Roussin, Lucille A. “The Beit Leontis Mosaic: An Eschatological Interpretation.” Journal of Jewish Art 8 (1981): 6–19. ———. “Helios in the Synagogue.” Biblical Archaeology Review 27, no. 2 (2001): 52–56. ———. “Zodiac in Synagogue Decoration.” In Archaeology and the Galilee: Texts and Contexts in the Graeco-Roman and Byzantine Periods, edited by D. R. Edward and C. T. McCollough, 83–96. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997.

Rowe, Nina. The Jew, the Cathedral, and the Medieval City. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011. Rutgers, Leonard Victor. “Incense Shovels at Sepphoris?” In Galilee Through the Centuries: Confluence of Cultures, edited by Eric M. Meyers, 177–78. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1999. Safrai, Zeʾev. The Missing Century: Palestine in the Fifth Century; Growth and Decline. Leuven: Peeters, 1998. Sanders, J. A. The Dead Sea Psalms Scroll. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1967. ———. Psalms Scroll of Qumran Cave 11. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965. Sarna, Nahum M. On the Book of Psalms. New York: Schocken Books, 1993. Sartre, Maurice. The Middle East Under Rome. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2005. Savage, Carl E. “Hamath Tiberias.” In Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods, edited by David A. Fiensy and James Riley Strange, 2:211–16. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015. Schaper, Joachim. “Eschatology in the Greek Psalter.” PhD diss., University of Cambridge, 1993. Schmitt, Jean Claude. Le corps, les rites, les rêves, le temps. Paris: Gallimard, 2001. Schubert, Kurt. “Jewish Pictorial Traditions in Early Christian Art.” In Jewish Historiography and Iconography in Early and Medieval Christianity, 2:143–260. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992. ———. “Jewish Traditions in Christian Painting Cycles: The Vienna Genesis and the Ashburnham Pentateuch.” In Jewish Historiography and Iconography in Early and Medieval Christianity, 2:210–60. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992. Schwartz, Seth. “Language, Power, and Identity in Ancient Palestine.” Past and Present 148 (1995): 3–47. ———. “On the Program and Reception of the Synagogue Mosaics.” In From Dura to

Bibliography · 191

Sepphoris: Studies in Jewish Art and Society in Late Antiquity, edited by Lee Levine and Zeev Weiss, 165–82. Portsmouth, R.I.: Journal of Roman Archaeology, 2000. ———. “Some Types of Jewish-Christian Interaction in Late Antiquity.” In Jewish Culture and Society Under the Christian Roman Empire, edited by R. L. Kalmin and S. Schwartz, 197–210. Leuven: Peeters, 2003. Sed-Rajna, Gabrielle. “Further Thoughts on an Early Illustrated Pentateuch.” Journal of Jewish Art 10 (1984): 29–31. Sirat, Collete. Hebrew Manuscripts of the Middle Ages. Edited and translated by Nicholas de Lange. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Smith, Mark. “The Near Eastern Background of Solar Language for Yahweh.” Journal of Biblical Literature 109 (1990): 29–39. Smith, Morton. Studies in the Cult of Yahweh. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1996. Sommers, Benjamin. “How Can One Know About God: Nature, Revelation, and Grace in Psalm 19.” Paper presented at the Jewish Theological Seminary, New York, 2012. Soper, Alexander Coburn. “The Italo-Gallic School of Early Christian Art.” Art Bulletin 20 (1938): 145–92. Stec, David M., trans. The Targum of Psalms. Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 2004. Stern, David. “Imitatio Hominis: Anthropomorphism and the Character(s) of God in Rabbinic Literature.” Prooftexts 12 (1992): 151–74. Stern, Henri. Le calendrier de 354: Étude sur son texte et ses illustrations. Paris: Guethner, 1953. Stern, Sacha. “Images in Late Antique Palestine: Jewish and Graeco-Roman Views.” In The Image and Its Prohibition in Jewish Antiquity, edited by Sarah Pearce, 110–29. Oxford: Journal of Jewish Studies, 2013. ———. “Pagan Images in Late Antique Palestinian Synagogues.” In Ethnicity and Culture in Late Antiquity, edited by Stephen Mitchell and Geoffrey Greatrex, 241–52. London: Duckworth, 2000.

192 · Bibliography

Steudel, Annette. “Belial, Beliar.” In Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception Online, vol. 3, edited by Hans-Josef Klauck et al. http://www .degruyter.com.proxy.bc.edu/view/EBR /MainLemma_9027?pi=0&moduleId=common -word-wheel&dbJumpTo=Belia. Stewart, Anne. “Esther (Book and Person).” In Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception Online, vol. 3, edited by Hans-Josef Klauck et al. http://www.degruyter.com.proxy.bc.edu /view/EBR/MainLemma_8462?pi=0&moduleId =common-word-wheel&dbJumpTo=Esther. Stichel, Rainer. “Gab es eine Illustration der jüdischen Heiligen Schrift in der Antike?” In Tesserae: Festschrift für Josef Engemann, 93–111. Münster: Aschendorff, 1991. Strack, Hermann L., and Günter Stemberger. Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash. Translated and edited by Markus Bockmuehl. 2nd ed. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996. Strange, James F. “Sepphoris: The Jewel of the Galilee.” In Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods, edited by David A. Fiensy and James Riley Strange, 2:23–38. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015. ———. “The Sepphoris Aqueducts.” In Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods, edited by David A. Fiensy and James Riley Strange, 2:76–87. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015. Stuttgart Psalter. Wurttembergische Landesbibliothek Stuttgart. Cod. bibl. fol. 23. http://dfg -viewer.de/show/?set[mets]=http://digital.wlb -stuttgart.de/mets/urn:nbn:de:bsz:24-digibib -bsz3070470598/urn:nbn:de:bsz:24-digibib -bsz3070470598.xml. Talgam, Rina. Mosaics of Faith: Floors of Pagans, Jews, Samaritans, Christians, and Muslims in the Holy Land. Jerusalem: Yad-Ben-Zvi Press, 2014. Talgam, Rina, and Zeev Weiss. “The Mosaics of the House of Dionysos at Sepphoris.” Qedem 44 (2004): 125–31. Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures; The New JPS Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text.

Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1985. Theodoret of Cyrus. Commentary on the Psalms. Translated by Robert C. Hill. Vol. 101, 1–72; vol. 102, 73–150. The Fathers of the Church. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2000. Tov, Emanuel. “Index of Passages in the ‘Biblical Texts.’” In Introduction and Indexes, edited by Emanuel Tov, 196–99. Discoveries in the Judaean Desert, vol. 39. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2002. Tselos, D. T. “Defensive Addenda to the Problem of the Utrecht Psalter.” Art Bulletin 49 (1967): 334–49. ———. Sources of the Utrecht Psalter Miniatures. Minneapolis: Printed and published privately, 1960. Urbach, E. E. “The Rabbinical Laws of Idolatry in the Second and Third Centuries in the Light of the Archaeological and Historical Facts.” Israel Exploration Journal 9 (1959): 149–65. Urman, Dan. “The House of Assembly and the House of Study.” In Ancient Synagogues: Historical Analysis and Archaeological Discovery, edited by Dan Urman and Paul V. M. Flesher, 1:232–55. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995. “Utrecht Psalter Annotated Edition.” Utrecht University Library. http://psalter.library.uu.nl. Weiss, Zeev. “From Galilean Town to Roman City, 100 BCE –200 CE .” In Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods, edited by David A. Fiensy and James Riley Strange, 2:53–75. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015. ———. “Images and Figural Representations in the Urban Galilee.” In The Image and Its Prohibition in Jewish Antiquity, edited by Sarah Pearce, 130– 44. Oxford: Journal of Jewish Studies, 2013. ———. Public Spectacles in Roman and Late Antique Palestine. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2014. ———. “Sculptures and Sculptural Images in Urban Galilee.” In The Sculptural Environment of

the Roman Near East: Reflections on Culture, Ideology, and Power, edited by Yaron Z. Eliav, Elise A. Friedland, and Sharon C. Herbert, 559–74. Leuven: Peeters, 2008. ———. Sepphoris Synagogue: Deciphering an Ancient Message Through Its Archaeological and Socio-Historical Contexts. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2005. Weiss, Zeev, and Ehud Netzer. “Hellenistic and Roman Sepphoris: The Archaeological Evidence.” In Sepphoris in Galilee: Crosscurrents of Culture, edited by Rebecca Martin Nagy et al., 28–38. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1996. ———. “New Look at Synagogue Art and Architecture.” In Galilee through the Centuries: Confluence of Cultures, edited by Eric M. Meyers, 199–226. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1999. ———. Promise and Redemption: A Synagogue Mosaic from Sepphoris. Jerusalem: The Israel Museum, 1996. Weitzmann, Kurt. Ancient Book Illumination. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1959. ———. Illustrations in Roll and Codex: A Study of the Origin and Method of Text Illustration. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970. ———. “Illustrations of the Septuagint.” In No Graven Images: Studies in Art and the Hebrew Bible, edited by Joseph Gutmann, 201–31. New York: Ktav, 1971. ———. Miniatures of the Sacra Parallela: Parisinus Graecus 923. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979. ———. “Question of the Influence of Jewish Pictorial Sources on Old Testament Illustration.” In No Graven Images: Studies in Art and the Hebrew Bible, edited by Joseph Gutmann, 309–28. New York: Ktav, 1971. ———. “Survival of Mythological Representations in Early Christian and Byzantine Art and Their Impact on Christian Iconography.” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 14 (1960): 44–68.

Bibliography · 193

Weitzmann, Kurt, and Massimo Bernabò. The Byzantine Octateuchs. 2 vols. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999. Weitzmann, Kurt, and Herbert L. Kessler. The Cotton Genesis: British Library, Codex Cotton Otho B . VI. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986. ———. Frescoes of the Dura Synagogue and Christian Art. Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 1990. Weitzmann, Kurt, et al. The Place of Book Illumination in Byzantine Art. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975. Williams, A. R. “Explore This Mysterious Mosaic.” National Geographic, September 9, 2016. http://news.nationalgeographic.com/2016/09 /mysterious-mosaic-alexander-the-great-israel. Williams, Peter F. The Organ in Western Culture, 750–1250. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Wüstefeld, Wilhelmina C. M., with William Noel and Koert van der Horst. “Catalogue.” In The Utrecht Psalter in Medieval Art: Picturing the Psalms of David, edited by Koert van der Horst, William Noel, and Wilhelmina C. M. Wüstefeld. 168–255. Tuurdijk, Netherlands: Hes, 1996. Zetterholm, Magnus. “Antioch (Syrian).” In The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism, edited by John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow, 336–38. Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans, 2010. Zevit, Ziony. “First Kings: Introduction and Annotation.” In The Jewish Study Bible: Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler, 653–710. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Zori, N. “The House of Kyrios Leontis at Beth Shean.” Israel Exploration Journal 16 (1966): 123–34.

194 · Bibliography

Index

Italicized page references indicate illustrations. Endnotes are indicated with “n” followed by the endnote number. Aachen Gospels, 128 Aaron (biblical character), 17, 28, 86, 86, 93, 93, 135, 148 Abraham (biblical character), 28, 46–47, 89, 89–90, 91, 122–23 acrostics, 98 Adam (biblical character), 9, 27, 29, 30, 49, 72, 156n14 ͑Af, (angel), 19 Ahasuerus (king), 40, 41, 42, 43, 78 Ahithophel (biblical character), 16, 18, 59, 60 Alexandria World Chronicle, 141–42 Altars, 16–17, 47, 47, 48, 57, 59, 68, 148, pl.7 priests at, 17, 135, 148 Amraphel, 90 Anastasis Rotunda, 52, 52 Angels, 19, 19, 27, 28, 29, 73–74, 76, 77, 81, 82, 106, 107 158n21 healing roles of, 109, 109 with moon personifications, 77 protective roles of, 25, 27, 31, 32, 33, 33–34, 61, 61, 65, 67, 148

punishment roles of, 13, 57, 58, 148, pl.1a as spirit/breath of life, 148, pl.1a supportive roles of, 37, 50, 51, 87, 88, 91, 92 warrior, 71, 76, 89, 90, 91, 109, 109 anger of God, 19, 19, 81, 82, 99, 100, 158n21 animals, 57, 58, 79, 80, 81, 82, 85, 85, 128, 131, 134. devout as food for, 81, 81 enemies represented by, 18, 19, 31, 32, 42–43, 61, 61, 63, 64, 71, 76, 80 evil represented by, 9, 62, 63, 67, 69–70, 81, 81 of netherworld, 65, 66–67 sacrificial, 15, 16–17, 57, 59, 68, 71, 76, pl.7 soul and salvation metaphors, 54–55 See also birds; fish; monsters and grotesques; water beasts Aquarius, 12, 134, 135, 137, pl.2 aqueducts, 47, 48, 118 Aramaic (language), 4, 110, 111, 123 See also Targum, Aramaic Architecture, 47, 48, 86, 87, 113, 118, 128, 132, 135 as coinage imagery, 121, 138 in Galilee, 82–83, 115, 118

hippodromes, 81, 81 palaces, 118 tombs, 48, 48–49, 52, 52, 67, 70 towers, cylindrical, 86, 87, 133, pl.15 See also cities, walled; mosaics; tabernacles; Temple arrows bows without, 44–45 burning, punishment for deception, 102 of enemies/wicked, 23, 24, 61 of God’s “lord,” 90 as weapons against enemies, 18, 19, 81, 81 artists, 120 Jewish rabbinic knowledge of roles, 5, 119–20, 149, 152 manuscript production descriptions, 123–24, 140 mosaic production descriptions, 4–5, 124–25, 129, 137, 146 Asklepios (god), 120–21 asps. See serpents astrology, 67, 68–69 See also zodiac mosaics; zodiac wheels Athena (goddess), 121, 138 Atlas (god), 4, 12, 120, 134 Augustine Christ as bridegroom, 36 Christ enthroned, 167n297

Augustine (continued) Christ’s passion and Davidic prophesy, 39 Christ’s resurrection, 159n50 Christ vs. sun god in tabernacle, 35, 36 crucifixion scene and spear-bearers, 97 God’s punishment of wicked men, 58 paths/ways of God, 46 Pslamist impersonation of Christ, 158n18 serpent associations, 62, 156n14 steps of ascension, 84 turnstile walking, 26 water miracles, 94 Autumn (personification), 135 Baʿal (god), 87 Baʿal -Zephon, 86, 87, 133 Babylon, 103, 104–5 Basil of Caesarea, 156n14 baths, ritual, 118 battle-axes, 99, 100, 109, 109 beds, 51, 53, 61, 61, 64, 65, 65, 66 Belial (netherworld monster) descriptions and symbolism, 13–14, 32–33 Latin terms for, 32 at netherworld entrance, 21, 21, 33, 33, 47, 48, 106, 107, 107, 108 bells, 17, 148 belts, 87, 88 Benjamin (biblical character), 28, 71, 75 Bern Physiologus, 141 Beth Alpha, 66, 71, 72, 148–49, 175n9 Beth Shean residences with mosaics, 11, 57, 121, 136–37, pl.5, pl.5a Beth Sheʿarim, 12, 121–22, 138–39, 175n90, pl.6 196 · Index

Betulah (Virgo), 67, 69, 147, pl.2a, pl.10 Binding of Isaac, 28, 119, 122, 135, 148–49, 175n9, pl.3b Birch, Walter de Gray, 62–64, 154n16 birds coronations and wreathholding, 78 devout as food for, 81, 81 escape from wicked as, 23, 23–24, 59, 60 God as guardian protector, 61, 61 swallows’ nests in trees, 82, 84 birthing, 19, 19, 56, 57 blindness, 109, 109 boats, 76, 78, 136, 142, 145 booths, 55 bows, 18, 19, 23, 24, 44–45, 45, 90 Braude, William, 101, 102–3, 155n28, 171n430 breath of musical instruments, 110, 112 spirit of life, 9, 10, 13, 75, 148, pl.1a bridegroom and bridal chamber, 36–37 Buber, Salomon, 101, 102–3, 155n28, 171n430 bulls, 42, 57, 59, 134 Cairo Genizah, 114 Canaan, 86, 87 Canticles, 150–51 Capernaum synagogue, 82, 139 Capricorn, 137, 139 Carolingian art, 140–141 Christological reinterpretations, 2, 8, 95, 128, 149 Cassiodorus, 35, 36, 155n24, 162n151, 167n300 cattle, 66, 67, 68, 71, 76 caves, 31, 32, 61, 101, 102, 106, 106

celebration, 48, 49, 54, 54, 71, 75, 109, 110 censers, 106, 108 centaurs, 136, 139, pl.5a, pl.5b charioteers and chariots, 70–74 synagogue mosaics featuring, 11, 66, 69, 70, 71–72, 119, 133, 135, pl.2b, pl.3 chastising, 33–34 childbirth, 19, 19, 56, 57 children of barren mothers, 91, 92 clothing styles for, 148 of cursed enemies, 87, 88 exile and dispersal of, 86, 86 Exodus and dew of resurrection, 71, 75 infants, 19, 40, 79, 80, 106, 106 raising hands toward angels, 109, 109 sacrifices of, 86, 86 seed metaphors, 50, 51 Torah instruction to, 35, 38–39, 75 Chorazim synagogue, 139 Christ bathing scenes, 79, 80 as bridegroom, 36–37 crucifixion scenes, 95, 95, 96–98, 122 Davidic prophesy of, 28–29, 39 David impersonation of, 158n18 identifying attributes of, 53, 70, 74, 80, 84, 89, 89, 158n18 incarnation scenes, 167n300 nativity scenes, 80, 167n296, 167n300–301 passion instruments, 39–40 resurrection and tomb descriptions, , 149–50 seated at right hand of God, 89, 89 as sun god, 11, 70, 74, 165n235, 166n255, pl.4

sun gods replaced by, 34, 35, 35–37 at Temple portal, 56, 56 in a zodiac wheel, 165n241 Christianity astrology, views of, 67, 68–69 See also Christological scenes Christological scenes Adam and Eve ascension from hell, 29 bathing scenes, 79, 80 Canticles with, 165n237 Christ as sun at tabernacle, 34–36, 35 Christ seated at right hand of God, 89, 89 Christ’s passion, 39 crucifixion and lance-bearer, 95, 95, 96–98 identification of, list, 165n237 Christos-Helios, 11, 70, 74, 165n235, 166n255, pl.4 circularity, 25, 25, 26 cities, walled Baʿal-Zephon as, 86, 87, 133 Egypt as, 92, 93, 93, 94 Jerusalem (Zion) as, 55, 55–57, 80–82, 81, 95, 98 clans, 101, 102 clarions, 109, 110 classical art. See Greco-Roman iconography Claudius Claudianus, 112 Clothing, 5, 131, 133, 148 of children, 148 of demons/devils, 13, 14, 87, 88, 134 of devout, 148 of enemies, 87, 89 of gods and goddesses, 11, 35, 35, 66, 72, 136, 160n87 of judges, 62 lots casting for, 41–42 of military figures, 131, 133, 148 of priests, 131

of prophets, 131, 148 of sages, 131, 148 season personifications, 79, 148 clouds, 63, 63, 70, 71, 72, 73, 84 coal and brimstone, 24 codices, 50, 50, 140–41, 145 coins Galilean, 72, 111, 114, 120–21, 122, 138 sacks of, 59, 59–60 Constantine (Roman emperor), 114, 122 cords, 95, 96, 106, 106 covenants, 45, 46, 57, 59, 60 crosses Christ’s nimbus design, 84, 89, 89, 158n18 crucifixion scenes with, 95, 95 crowns crown of thorns , 39, 39 as deity attribute, 11, 35, 35, 38, 57, 57, 120, 160n87 golden, luxuries represented by, 35, 39 of military commanders, 133 of royalty, 34, 35, 65, 67, 82, 84, 89, 90, 99, 100, 106 crucifixion of Jesus, 95, 95, 96–98 crutches, 109, 109 cups, 27, 30, 95, 95–96, 97–98 curses, 63, 64, 87, 88 Cyrus (king), 44 dances and dancing body language indicating, 49, 54, 135 for celebration, 48, 49, 54, 54 demonic, 13 in praise of God, 109–10, 110 daughters of Judah, 55–56, 56 David (psalmist/king) as anointed one, 84 attributes of, 34, 35, 65, 67 as blessed man representation, 7, 9, 10

counselors of, 60 curses, 64, 88 dancing for joy, 48, 49 death, fear of, 32 destiny references and cup-holding, 27, 30 divine justice and testing of, 30–31, 31, 46–48, 47 dreams of, 61, 61–62 fasting, 87, 88 God’s judgment, 51, 53, 57, 59, 70 God’s protection, 65, 67, 67, 69–70 God’s teachings, 44, 45 with God’s words, 25, 26–27 healing petitions, 51, 53 idolatry, 27, 30 illness recovery, 48, 48–49, 52, 52–53 Jerusalem defilement and destruction, 81, 81 military garments and weapons, 33, 33, 89, 91 Mother Earth support, 55–57, 56 netherworld ascension, 27, 29–30 praising God, 20, 81, 81–82 prophesies of, 28–29, 39, 40, 44 with scales of justice, 30–31, 31, 50, 50 seated at right hand of God, 89–90 shield-raising rituals featuring, 26 at Temple portal holding censor, 106, 108 Thanksgiving, 84, 95, 95–96 tomb shroud and incorruptible flesh of, 27, 28, 28–29, 150 trampling evil, 67, 69–70 visions of, 64–67, 65 See also enemies dawn, 43, 66, 89, 91, Index · 197

Day, personified as sun celestial heavens represented by, 38 flanking hand of God, 54, 55, 59, 60 God’s world summons, 57, 58 Night speaking to, 35, 38 Dead Sea Scrolls, 123, 145 death angelic accompaniment of righteous in, 48, 49 angel of, 88 cords/bonds of, 95, 96 illness recovery and salvation from, 48, 48–49, 52, 52–53 imagery representing, 40, 51, 53, 93, 94 incorruptible flesh after, 27, 27–29, 28 personifications of, 14, 21, 32–33 water skins, 108–9, 109, pl.18 See also resurrection deception, 25, 27, 57, 59, 95, 98, 102 deer, 54–55 Deli (Aquarius), 12, 134, 135, 137, pl.2 demons, devils and destroyers clothing styles of, 13, 14, 87, 88, 134 netherworld entrances with, 48, 49, 106, 108 Satan, 14, 32, 87, 88, 158n22 wicked influenced by, 47, 48 See also Belial Deuteronomy, 38, 65, 73 devout, the, 8, 9–10, 13, 69–70, 148, 48, 49, 63, 64, 50, 51 Jerusalem destruction and fate of, 81, 81 joyous celebration, 71, 75 killing of, 95, 98 salvation of, 57, 59 Diocletian (Roman emperor), 3 198 · Index

Dionysos (god), 4, 130 See also House of Dionysos Doeg the Edomite, 16, 17, 18, 87, 88 dogs, 17–18, 42–43, 54–55, 71, 76 Douce Psalter, 128 doves, 59, 60, 78 dreams, 61, 61–62, 64–66, 65 Dura Europos synagogue wall paintings Aaron before altar, 148 angels, 13, 148 binding of Isaac, 175n9 Egyptian idols, 85, 120, pl.17 Esther narrative, 40 Exodus from Egypt narrative, 93, pl.13, pl.17 Ezekiel and communal resurrection, 10, pl.1b hand of God, 73, 148, 157n5, 175n9, pl.1a, pl.1b kings, 148 nudity in, 11, pl.1a Pharaoh’s drowning soldiers, 11, 87, pl.14 spirit of life personification, 10, pl.1a Temple consecration scenes, 16–17, 82, pl.7 dwarfs, 102, 104, 104–5 Earth (personification), 12, 34, 57, 57–58, 147, 164n186 Eating, 31, 31–32, 81, 81. celebratory feasting, 54, 54, 71, 75 feeding the needy, 51, 53, 109, 109 gentile descriptions of, 39, 43 Edict of Milan, 122 Egypt gods/idols of, 84–85, 85 wall cities representing, 92, 93, 93, 94, pl.13, pl.14, pl.17 See also Exodus; Pharaoh’s soldiers

͑Ein Yael, 176n23 Elijah, 11, 74 enemies animals representing, 18, 19, 31, 32, 42–43, 61, 61, 63, 64 clothing styles of, 87, 89 curses on, 87, 88 deceitfulness of, 25, 27, 57, 59, 95, 98, 102 defeated, 20–21, 21, 71, 76, 76, 78, 89, 90 eating and fatness, 31, 31–32 with empty quivers, 44–45, 45 of Esther, 39, 42, 43 God’s anger toward, 18–19, 19 God’s defense against, 15, 15, 21, 33, 34, 59, 59–61, 81, 81, 95, 95–96 illness and whispering of, 51, 52 Jerusalem defilement and destruction, 81, 82 of Jewish people, 43 noble men as, 15, 16, 17, 18, 87, 88 with weapons, 31, 31–32, 44–45, 45, 54, 55, 59, 59–60 enthroned figures evil rulers, 8, 9 with footstools, 91 God(metaphorically enthroned) 91, 91–92 kings, 56, 76, 77–78, 148 noble men, 109, 109 princes, 99, 100 queens, 39, 40–43 Erotes, 12 Esther (biblical character), 39, 40–44 Eusebius, 155n24, 159n50 Eve (biblical character), 27, 29, 30, 49, 72, 156n14 evil animal associations, 9, 62, 69–70, 81 monstrous representations of (see Belial; demons, devils

and destroyers; monsters and grotesques) exile, 86, 86, 104, 104–5. Exodus God’s protection and salvation, 41, 85, 93 walled cities of, 87, 92, 93, 93, 94, pl.13, pl.14, pl.17 water miracles of, 92–94, 93 See also Egypt; Pharaoh’s soldiers Ezekiel, 10, 11, 65, 148, 175n9, pl.1a, pl.1b fasting, 87, 88 fear of the Lord, 45, 46 feasting. See eating Feast of Lots, 42 Festival of Torches (Sukkoth), 69, 147 nudity, 11–12, pl.5a figurative art Jewish attitudes toward, , 73, 118–19 Jewish attitudes toward GrecoRoman classical, 58, 120, 121, 138–39 fire, 31, 31, 57, 58–59, 65–66 fish, 131 psalter illustrations featuring, 106, 109, 109, pl.16c synagogue mosaics featuring, 133, 134, pl.15c, pl.16b See also water beasts fleece, 76, 76–77 food. See eating foundations, 24 fountains, 47, 48, 115, 118, 120, 138 furnaces, 21, 21, 31, 32, 46, 47 Galilee architectural styles in, 82–83, 113, 115, 118, 121, 138 Christianity in, 114, 115, 122–23

cities of, 115–16, 117–18 Jewish literacy in, 123 Jewish population of, 114, 115–18 mosaic art in (see mosaics) patronage in, 114–15, 117, 121– 22, 124, 130, 131, 136, 140, 146 Roman sculpture in, 72, 114, 120–21, 122, 138 socio-cultural economic descriptions, 114–15 Gallican Text: 1, 2, 7, 8, 20, 32, 35, 52, 62, 80, 84, 84, 92, 98, 102, 105, 102, 150 Gehenna, 12–14, 29–30 See also Sheol gentiles, 15, 17, 41–44, 58 Gladiator mosaic, 111–12, pl.19 goats, 57, 59 God angels as agents of displeasure of, 19, 19, 81–82, 82, 99, 100, 148, 158n21 anthropomorphic characteristics attributed to, 72, 92 congregation/tribe of, 79, 80 discipline/chastising of, 33–34 enthroned, 91–92 fear of, 45, 46 glory of, 65, 65–66 loving kindness of, 54, 55, 96 Paths/Ways of, 44, 45, 45–46 protection of, 33–34, 40, 41, 60, 61, 67, 69–70, 84 psalmist gesturing to, 15, 15, 79, 80 sky-riding descriptions of, 73–74 strength of, 71, 76 thanksgiving to, 48, 84, 85 Torah study as devotion to, 34, 35, 38–39, 98, 99 visions and closeness to, 64–67, 65

words of, 26–27 See also God, hand of; judgment of God; praising God God, hand of angels flanking, 106, 107 anthropomorphic characteristics, 73 ascension expectations, 106 attributes of, 34 Christ replacing hand of, 8, 20, 21, 21, 34, 89, 93, 128–29, 150, 154n15, 175n11 description overview, 84, 148, 156n6 Earth personification summoned by, 58 gesturing, 40, 54, 55, 62 illness recovery and, 48, 49, 51, 52 omissions of, 21, 29–30, 91 petitioning, 15, 16, 87, 88–89 seated at right hand, Jewish interpretation, 89, 89–90 synagogue mosaics featuring, 175n9 synagogue wall paintings featuring, 73, 175n9, pl.1a, pl.1b thanksgiving and public offerings to, 96 gods clothing styles for, 11, 35, 66, 72, 136, 160n87 Egyptian, evocation and acknowledgement of, 84 Greco-Roman sculptural imagery with, 12, 121, 138–39, pl.6 Jewish perception of GrecoRoman imagery, 58, 120, 121, 138–39 sculptural imagery of, 120–21, 122 See also idols; personifications gold, sacks of, 82, 84

Index · 199

Gospels Christ’s passion seen as Davidic prophecy, 39 crucifixion, 96 lot casting, 42 Psalms influence on, 1, 28, 39 resurrection accounts, 28, 52, 150 grain, 15, 17, 50, 51, 57, 58 grasses, 49–50, 50, 128, 130 Greco-Roman culture cultural cross-fertilization, 2, 8 Jewish adoption and influence of, 122, 124 See also Greco-Roman iconography; Roman architecture; Roman sculpture Greco-Roman (classical) iconography Christian/Jewish assimilation of, 2, 8 coinage and sculpture with, 72, 114, 120–21, 122, 138 as Jewish art influence, 4, 12, 117, 124, 136–39 Jewish attitudes towards, 58, 120, 121, 138, 139, 146–47 nudity in, 12 as psalter imagery source, 4, 8, 134, 147, 154n12 zodiac wheels, 5, 67–70, 116–17, 147–48, 165n241 See also personifications greed, 17–18 Greek (language), 45, 111, 122 See also Septuagint groveling figures, 76, 76, 78, 90 Hadrian (Roman emperor), 3 halos. See nimbuses Haman (biblical character), 41, 42, 43 Hammat Tiberias, 116, 121

200 · Index

Hammat Tiberias synagogue mosaics descriptions, 5, 69, 115–17, 133, 134, 135, 137 inscriptions, 137 Jewish symbols panel, 116, 134, pl.2e nudity, 12 patronage of, 117 season personifications, 80, pl.2, pl.2c sun gods of, chariot-riding, 11, 66, 69, 70, 71, 72, 134, pl.2b Temple facade imagery, 167n204 zodiac sign personifications, 69, 133, 134, 135, 137, 147, pl.2, pl.2a, pl.2d zodiac wheels, 5, 68, 69, 116, pl.2 hand of God. See God, hand of harps, 61, 62, 71, 75, 109, 110 Hasmed (angel), 158n21 healing angels as God’s agents of, 109, 109 Greco-Roman deities of, 120–21 illness recovery, 48, 48–49, 52, 52–53 heaven(s) angels of, 13 architectural structures in, 23, 24, 33, 34 charioteer sun god riding through, 71, 72, 73 See also Day; moons; Night; stars; sun Hebraeos (Jerome) clans and tents, 170n402 fleece translation, 167n285 lyres/harps translations, 171n416 plowmen, 108

Psalm 118/119 acrostic translation, 98 Hebrew (language) alphabetic acrostics, 98 literacy and usage of, 4, 123 See also Hebrew manuscript of Psalms, illustrated Hebrew Bible Aramaic translations of (see Targum) See also Psalms, book of; Torah Hebrew manuscript of Psalms, illustrated challenges to existence of, 6, 139–40 geographic origins, 113, 125, 127, 139 Jewish literacy and production of, 123 material descriptions, 140–43, 145–46, 152 patronage, 114–15, 117, 124, 140 production descriptions, 123– 24, 140 Helios (sun god) attributes and clothing of, 11, 35, 35, 38, 66, 72, 160n87 as bridegroom, 36–38 chariot-riding, 11, 70–74, 71, pl.2b, pl.3 Christ as, 11, 70, 74, 165n235, 166n255, pl.4 coinage imagery featuring, 72 historical sources for, 72 Roman interpretation of, 72, 116, 147 See also Day hell, 27, 28–30, 33 See also Sheol Hellenism Jewish attitudes on, 58, 119, 120, 121, 138 Jewish funerary sculpture, 5–6

Ḥemah (angel), 158n21 Hera (goddess), 121, 138 Herod Antipas, 116, 117 Hero of Alexandria, 111 Hezekiah (king), 47 hinds, 33, 34, 40 hippodromes, 81, 81 holy ones, 27, 30 See also patriarchs; sages Holy Spirit ruaḥ ha-kodesh, 10, 40, 44 Homer, 136 honeycomb, 39 Horeb, water miracle at, 92–93, 93, 94 horsemen, 21, 21, 22 horses chariots with, 70, 71, 71, 72, pl.3 House of Dionysos, Sepphoris, 118, 130–31, pl.11, pl.12, pl.12a House of Leontis, Beth Shean, 11, 57, 121, 136–37, pl.5, pl.5a House of Orpheus, Sepphoris, 118, 134, 176n18 Huqoq synagogue mosaics, 4, 123, 130, 131, 132, 133, 136, 137 chariots, 71 commander and priest meeting (elephant panel), 131, 133, pl.16, pl.16a fish, 87, 133, 137, 149, pl.16b nudity in, 11 patronage, 115 Pharaoh’s drowning soldiers, 86–87 Tower of Babel, 131, 149 Huseifa synagogue, 72, 156n21 hydraulis (water organ), 110–12, pl.19, pl.19a Hygieia (goddess), 120, 138 Ibn Ezra, Abraham, 53, 163n163 ichthyocentaurs, 136, pl.5a, pl.5b

idols children sacrificed to, 86, 86 Egypt representations with, 84–85, 85, 85, 93, 94, 120, 121, pl.13, pl.17 as Jerusalem/Temple defilement symbol, 81, 81 Roman sculpture imagery representing, 120, 121, 147 worship of, 30, 73, 119, 120, 122, 138, 147 illness recovery, 48, 48–49, 51, 52, 52–53 incorruptible flesh, 27–30, 28 infants, 19, 19, 40, 79, 80, 106, 106 Isaac (biblical character), 28, 119, 122, 135, 148–49, 175n9, pl.3b Israel, tribes of, 14, 18, 19, 35, 39, 79, 80 jackals, 65, 66–67, 81, 81 Jeremiah (prophet), 100 Jerome, 1, 159n51 See also Hebraeos Jerusalem defilement and destruction of, 81, 81, 104 imagery representing, 55, 55–57, 71, 75, 80–82, 81, 95, 98 See also Temple Jesus. See Christ Jordan water miracle, 92–94, 93 Joseph (husband of Mary), 79, 80 Josephus, 70, 81, 117 Judah I, 121, 130 Judaism in Galilee, 114, 115, 116, 117–18 judges, 62, 63 judgment of God bodily resurrection and, 160n60 and divine justice, 20, 21, 21, 39, 50, 50

of final deeds at death, 70 and punishment, 19, 19, 57, 58–59 testing (refining process), 30–31, 31, 46–48, 47 Julian (Roman emperor), 26 Julii tomb (St. Peter’s Basilica), 11, 74, 165n235, pl.4 justice divine judgment and, 20, 21, 21, 39, 50, 50 judges and lack of, 62 testing/refining process and divine, 30–31, 31, 46–48, 47 wicked and divine, 23, 23, 64, 82, 84 Justin Martyr, 78 Kedar, inhabitants of, 101, 102 kegs and vats, 15, 17 Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue mosaics, 4, 130, 131, 132, 137 description overview, 131 fish, 133, 149, pl.15c inscriptions, 132 patronage, 115 Pharoah’s army, 87, 131, 132, 133, 137, pl.15 Samson fighting the Philistines, 131, 132, pl.15b Tower of Babel construction, 131, 132, 149, pl.15a walled cities, 87 Khludov Psalter, 168n339 Kimchi, David, 22, 53, 55, 163n163 kings clothing styles for, 131 as enemies, 106, 106–7 enthroned, 148 with gifts and offerings, 56, 56–57, 71, 76, 76, 78 See also specific kings

Index · 201

lamp, 33, 34, lance-bearers, 95, 95, 96–97 Leda (mythological character), 12, 138–39, pl.6 Leiden Aratea, 67, 68, 165n247 Leiden Prudentius, 141 Levi, Joshua b., 75 Leviathans, 79, 80 See also water beasts Levites, 80, 104, 104, 105 Libra, 12, 134, 135, pl.2d lions enemies represented as, 18, 19, 31, 32, 43, 61, 61, 63, 64 fountain designs with, 47, 48 devout as food for, 81, 81 symbolism, 67, 69–70 wicked men as, 21 Longinus (Roman solider), 95, 96, 97 lots machines, 39, 41–42 Lucifer, 14 lutes, 109, 110 lyres musical celebrations with, 71, 75 performance refusals, 103, 104–5 praising God with music, 61, 62 Madrid AstronomicalComputistical Manual, 141 Mary (mother of Jesus), 79, 80 Marys at the Tomb of Jesus, 27, 27–28, 29, 51, 52, 149–50 Mashit (angel), 158n21 masks, theater, 4 Massah, 85–86 Megillah, 41, 44 Melchizedek (priest-king), 90–91 menorahs, 2, 116, 136, 139, pl.2e Mercy (personification), 121 Meribah, 85–86 Meshech, inhabitants of, 101, 102 Messiah, 168n323, 168n340 Midrash

202 · Index

Ahithophel’s friendship betrayal, 60 angelic accompaniment of righteous dead, 48, 49 artists’ roles and production knowledge, 5, 119–20, 149, 152 chariot-/sky-riding Lord , 73–74 David’s incorruptible flesh and tomb imagery, 28, 29, 150 demons, 13 dew of resurrection, 75 divine testing, 46–47 dogs parables, 17–18 dwarfs, 104 Esther narrative, 40–44 grass-cutting metaphors, 49 heaven personifications, 38 Messiah, 168n340 netherworld, 12–13 noble men as enemies, 16 Satan, 88 seated at right hand of God, 89–90 study houses, 83–84 teachers, 84 Temple foundations, 24 Torah devotion and prophet identifications, 99, 100 water miracles, 93–94 water skin, 108 midwives, 79, 80 minnim, 109, 110 Mishnah content descriptions, 4 production of, 115, 123, 174n87 model (pattern) books, 4–5, 6, 129–30, 138 monsters and grotesques mythological, centaurs, 136, 139, pl.5a, pl.5b mythological, sirens, 11, 121, 136, 137, pl.5

mythological, water beasts, 11, 79, 80, 136, pl.5, pl.5a, pl.5b, pl.5c as pestilence personifications, 7, 9 See also Belial; demons, devils and destroyers moons angels holding personifications of, 76, 77 crescent, 11, 39, 43, 48, 49, 67, 70 flanking hand of God, 59, 60 as Night personification, 35, 38, 54, 55, 79, 80, 106, 107 Mordecai (biblical character), 44 Mosaics, 4–5, 6, 114, 124–25, 129– 130, 131–35, 137–38, 146 Jewish rabbinic attitudes on figurative art in, 73, 119, 120, 121, 139–40, 149 patronage, 115, 117, 130, 131, 136, 146 Put under “mosaics” in House of Dionysos, 118, 130–31, pl.11, pl.12, pl.12a in House of Leontis, 11, 57, 121, 136–37, pl.5, pl.5a in House of Orpheus, 118, 134, 176n18 See also Hammat Tiberias synagogue mosaics; Huqoq synagogue mosaics; Khirbet Wadi Hamam synagogue mosaics; Sepphoris synagogue mosaics Moses (biblical character), 11, 28, 86, 86, 93, 93, 94 Mother Earth. See Earth Mount Zion, 79, 80 musical instruments celebrating with, 71, 75, 109, 110 performance refusals, 103, 104–5 See also specific instruments

Nathan (prophet), 26 nativity scenes, 167n300–301 Nebuchadnezzar, 104, 104–5 Nereids (sirens), 11, 121, 136, 137, pl.5 netherworld. See hell; Sheol New Testament, 2, 28–29, 32, 154n14 See also Gospels Nicene Creed, 89, 122 night crescent moons representing, 11, 39, 43, 48, 49, 67, 70 personifications of, 35, 38, 54, 55, 79, 80, 106, 107 stars representing, 11, 43, 48, 49, 54, 55, 79, 80 Nile Festival Building, 57, 176n18, 176n23, 177n55, pl.9 nimbuses (halos) as attribute of Christ, 27, 28, 74, 89, 89 central figures and omission of, 53, 70, 74, 80, 158n18 nudity of beaten figures, 46, 47 of Earth personification, 164n186 of Esther, 40–42 in Galilean mosaic classical imagery, 136 of idols, 85, 85 in Jewish art, 11–12 of Satan, 87, 88 washing hands in innocence, 47, 48 nursing mothers, 39, 40, 43 Octateuchs, 2, 154n18 Odyssey (Homer), 11, 136, 137, pl.5a offerings, 95, 96, 106, 108 oil horns, 87, 88 oil lamps, 133 Origen, 155n24, 159n51

orphans, 71, 75, 87, 88, 109, 109 Orpheus mosaic, 118, 134, 176n18 oxen, 39, 44, 50, 51, 107, 108 paideia, 137 palaces, 118 palms, 91, 92, 116, 121, pl.2e Pan (god), 120 Paris Psalter, 26, pl.8 patriarchs, 117, 121, 122, 124, patronage dedicatory inscriptions identifying, 117, 134, 136 Galilean economic prosperity and, 114–15, 146 personifications anger, 19, 19, 99, 100 breath, 112 day (see Day) death, 14, 21, 32–33 Earth, 12, 34, 57, 57–58, 147, 164n186 heaven, 35, 38 His loving kindness, 54, 55 Jewish perceptions of, 38, 58, 121 kindness, 121 mercy, 121 Midrash on, 38 moon, 76, 77 night, 35, 38, 54, 55, 79, 80, 106, 107 path/way of God, 45, 45–46, 176n31 pestilence, 7, 9 popularity of, 57 river (see River) of seasons, 5, 79, 79–80, 116, 134, 147–48, pl.2, pl.2c spirit/breath of life, 9, 10, 44, pl.1a Spirit of Darkness (see Belial) sun (see Helios) wind, 33, 34, 56, 57, 57, 58–59, 110, 112

Pesikta de-Rab Kahana (Braude and Kapstein, trans.), 105 pestilence, 7, 9, 156n14 Pharaoh’s soldiers drowning of, psalter illustration, 86, 86 drowning of, synagogue mosaic, 87, 132, 133, 149, pl.15, pl.15c, pl.16b drowning of, synagogue wall paintings, 11, 87, pl.14 pipes, 109, 110 Pippin (king), 110 Pisces, 12, 133 pitchforks, 7, 9 pits, 12, 12, 100 See also Sheol plowmen, 107, 107–8 poor, the, 21, 21–22, 22, 25, 27, 45, 46, 76, 78 Porphyrius, Publilius Optatianus, 112 praising God bountiful harvest themes, 67, 68 celebrations for, 39, 43, 109–10, 110, 112 dead inability to, 93, 94 for enemy defeat, 20–21, 21, 82 palm-holding figures, 91, 92 priests, 16–17, 93–94, 131, 133, 148, pl.16 princes, 99, 100 prisoners, 71, 76 Prometheus (god), 120 prophets, 26, 99, 100, 131, 148 prosperity, 15, 17–18, 31–32, 39 Psalms, book of, 1, 9, 142–43, 145–46. written parchment scrolls of, 123, 141 See also Hebrew manuscript of Psalms; Utrecht Psalter entries Psalm Scrolls, 141

Index · 203

Psychomachia, 141 Ptolemy, 68, 72 punishment, 19, 19, 57, 58–59 Purim, 42 putti, 4, 11, 32, 34, 138 Qetsef (angel), 158n21 quivers, 44–45, 45 Qumran, 1, 123, 141, 145 rabbis5, 73, 119–20, 121,138, 139–40, 149, 152 Rabbula Gospels, 142 Rahab (cosmic monster), 157n49 rain dew of resurrection, 75 early, 84, 167n290 flames of God’s punishment extinguished by, 57, 59 on fleece, 76, 76–77 Rashi Esther narrative and crown imagery, 42 evil schemes and birthing process metaphors, 158n23 enclosed in their own fat, 31–32 fleece/mown field, 77 God’s punishment, 58 praiseworthiness of caregivers, 163n168 testing/refining process, 160n63 Red Sea, 92–93, 93, 94 refining process, 31, 31, 46, 47 restraining devices, 21, 21–23, 22, 24 resurrection bodily, 160n60 tomb imagery, 27, 27–30, 28, 149–50 communal, 10, pl.1b dew of, 71, 74–75 illness recovery imagery as, 48, 49, 51, 52–53 imagery for, 71, 74–75,

204 · Index

nudity and, 11 rivers Exodus and water miracles at, 92–94, 93 God’s bountiful harvest and, 67, 68 Temple destruction and weeping by, 103, 104 See also River (personification) River (personification) psalter illustrations of, 11, 63, 64, 136, 147, 176n31, pl.5c mosaics featuring, 57, 121, 136, pl.5 rods of punishment, 57, 58–59 Roman architecture coinage imagery with, 121, 138 in Galilee, 113, 115, 118 Jerusalem defilement symbolized by, 81, 81 Jewish synagogue styles influenced by, 82 as psalter illustration influence, 86, 87, 118, 128, 135 Roman Empire Galilean relations, 2, 8, 117, 122, 124 Jerusalem and Temple defilement and destruction, 81, 104 state religions of, 122 See also Greco-Roman iconography; Hellenism; Roman architecture; Roman sculpture Roman sculpture coinage imagery comparisons, 72, 114, 120–21, 122, 138 Galilean artifacts of, 120–21, 138 idols represented by, 81, 81, 84– 85, 85, 93, 94, 120, 121, 147 as Jewish art influence, 12, 121, 138–39, 145–46, pl.6 Jewish attitudes on, 58, 120, 121, 138, 139

ropes, 27, 30 ruaḥ (spirit/breath of life), 9, 10, 13, 75, 148, pl.1a Sacra Parallela, 142, 145 sacrificial rituals animals, 15, 16–17, 57, 59, 68, 71, 148, pl.7 children, 86, 86 sages, 5, 27, 30, 115, 148 salvation animal metaphors, 54–55 from death due to illness, 48–49, 52–53 of the devout, 57, 59 Exodus from Egypt, 41, 85, 93 Samson (biblical character), 131, 132, pl.15b Sarah (biblical character), 122 Sarcophagi, 106, 106 constricted places interpreted as, 15, 15–16 death represented by, 40, 51, 53, 93, 94 dew of resurrection imagery, 71, 74–75 Galilean, with classical imagery, 12, 138–39, pl.6 Satan, 14, 32, 87, 88, 158n22 satyrs, 13, 134 Saul (king), 18–19, 19, 60–61, 90, 95, 96, 97, 98 scales of justice God’s judgment, 20, 21, 21, 50, 50 God’s testing, 30–31, 31, 46–48, 47 wicked and, 23, 23, 64, 82, 84 scepters, 34, 35, 99, 100 scoffers/scorners, 9 scrolls as attribute, 60, 82, 84 codex conversions to 141, 145 God’s judgment and, 106

God’s words represented by, 57, 59 manuscript format popularity of, 140, 145 paths/ways of God represented by, 45, 45–46 psalm, 141, 145 Torah study represented by, 99, 99 production descriptions, 123 sculpture, 114, 138–39, 147 See also idols; Roman sculpture Scylla, 136 sea monsters. See water beasts Sea of Reeds, 92–93, 93, 94 seas, 92–93, 93, 94, 106, 107, 109, 109 seasons motif popularity, 80 psalter illustration personifications of, 5, 79, 79–80, 147–48 synagogue mosaic personifications of, 80, 116, 134, pl.2, pl.2c Second Sophistic (paideia), 137, 178n71 Sefer Harazim, 66 self-mutilation, 104, 104 Sepphoris, Galilee architecture styles in, 121 Christian churches constructed in, 173n17 city descriptions, 115, 118 coinage imagery, 121 geographic location descriptions, 117 history of, 117 Jewish population of, 115, 117–18 mosaics of, non-Jewish, 57, 176n18, 176n23, 176n31, 177n55, pl.9 mosaics of, residences, 118, 130–31, 134, 176n18, pl.11, pl.12, pl.12a

mosaics of, synagogues (see Sepphoris synagogue) patriarchs of, notable, 121–22 sculptural artifacts from, 120 sculpture in, literary evidence for, 120 water systems of, 118 Sepphoris synagogue mosaics, 5, 115–16, 118, 135–36 binding of Isaac panel, 119, 135, 148–49, pl.3b description overview, 118–19 imagery selection and purpose, 123 inscriptions, 137 Jewish attitudes toward classical imagery at, 73, 119, 121 lions seizing bulls’ heads, 176n18 sacrificial altar scenes, 17, 148 zodiac wheels, 12, 68, 71–72, 119, 135, 137, pl.3, pl.3a Septuagint, 3, 45, 62–63, 102, 154m16 sepulchers, 52, 75, 150 See also tombs serpents, 67, 69 on columns, 150 demons/devils clothed with, 13, 14, 87, 88 netherworld monster associations, 13–14, 33, 33 Roman healing rituals with, 120 as sculptural attributes, 120 sea, 79, 80 symbolism of, 9, 69–70, 156n14 wicked analogies, 62, 63, 150, 179n8 67, 69 Severus, 117, 134 sheep animal sacrifice, 15, 16, 17, 67, 68, 71, 76, pl.7 as followers of God, 79, 80, 81, 82, 85, 85

grazing, 71, 76 sated souls represented by, 66 Shekina, 10 Sheol (Jewish netherworld, Gehenna, the Pit) ascension/extraction from, 27, 29–30 descriptions of, 12–14 enemies falling into, 21, 21, 59, 60, 61, 61, 65, 66–67 illness recovery and salvation from, 48, 49 monsters of (see Belial; demons, devils and destroyers) wicked digging/falling/thrown into, 12, 13, 48, 99, 100, 106, 108 shields enemies with, 31, 31, 39, 43, 103, 104 God’s protection as, 33, 33 imperial raising ceremonies with, 25, 25–26, pl.8 wicked with, 50, 51 Shimi (biblical character), 44 shrouded figures, 27–29, 71, 75. dead representations, 93, 94 Shuni “Spring” mosaic, 176n31 silver, 26–27, 31, 46, 47, 129, 146 Simeon bar Yohai, 116 sirens (Nereids), 11, 121, 136, 137, pl.5 snails, 62–63, 63, 64 snakes. See serpents snares, 14, 21–22, 22, 23, 24, 106, 108 soldiers (warriors) clothing styles for, 131, 133, 148 at crucifixion scenes, 95, 96, 97 as enemies, 16, 31, 31–32, 33, 44–45, 45, 54, 55, 95, 98, 106, 107 Sol Invictus, 72, 74, 116, 147 See also Helios

Index · 205

Solomon (king), 26, 76, 77–78 soul, 19, 27–30, 28, 54–55, 65, 66 speaking gestures, 35, 38, 82, 84 spears angels with, 25, 27, 109, 109 enemies with, 31, 31, 39, 43, 61, 61, 95, 95, 96, 97, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107 as idol attribute, 85, 85 as passion instrument, 39, 39 strongman with, 35, 37 of wicked, 50, 51 spheres, 34, 35, 56, 56, 58 spirit/breath of life, 9, 10, 13, 75, 148, pl.1a Spirit of Darkness, 32 See also Belial sponge, 39 Spring (personification), 69, 80, 148, pl.2c St. Paul’s Outside the Walls, 74, 165n235, 166n255 St. Peter’s Basilica, 11, 70, 74, 165n235, pl.4 stars God’s power over, 67, 68 morning/day, 89, 91 night represented by, 11, 43, 48, 49, 54, 55, 79, 80 steps of ascension, 82, 84 study houses, 82, 83–84, 121 Stuttgart Psalter Adam and Eve ascension, 30 charioteers, 74 hand of God imagery, 175n10 kings with gifts for baby, 167n296 restraining devices, 23 Solomon’s judgment, 78 Sukkoth, 69, 147 Summer (personification), 79, 79, 80, 147–48 sun as charioteer, 71–72, 119, 135, pl.3

206 · Index

empty-handed angels and lack of, 76, 77 See also Helios Susiya synagogue, 73, 156n21 swallows, 82, 84 swords of Abraham against enemies, 90 as divine attributes, 120 enemies with tongues as, 61 of evil rulers, 8 God’s weapon against enemies, 18, 19, 20, 21 Leviathans killed by, 79, 80 as murder weapons, 53, 54 of wicked, 50, 51, 82, 84 tables with food, 31, 31–32, 39, 43, 54, 55, 109, 109 three-legged, 133–34 Talmud, 28, 29, 44, 75, 88, 90, 103–4, 115, 116, 119, 123, Esther narrative, 40, 41, 44 mosaics, 140 sirens, 137 study houses, 83, 84 water organs, 172n443 Targum, Aramaic, 4, 8 cities vs. enemies, 106 dew of resurrection, 75 dreams and dawn awakening, 165n229 empty-handed angels, 77 figurative art, views on, 119 grass-cutting metaphors, 49 plowmen, 108 punishment, 58 seated at right hand of God, 90 study houses and strength to strength metaphors, 83–84 water organs, 111, 112 teachers, 82, 84 Temple consecration of, 16–17, 82, pl.7

defilement of, 81, 81 descriptions of earthly, 15, 16–17, 82, 82–83 descriptions of heavenly, 23, 24, 33, 34 destruction of, 79, 80, 81, 103, 104 portals and facades of, 43–44, 56, 56, 67, 70, 106, 108, 116, 135, pl.2e sacrificial rituals at, 67, 68 thanksgiving offerings in, 95, 96, 98 visions of God at, 64, 65, 65 temples, Canaanite, 86, 87 tents, 54, 55, 82, 84, 101, 102, 170n402. testing, divine, 30–31, 31, 46–48, 47 Thanksgiving, 48, 84, 85, 95, 96, 98 Theodoret, 155n25 thrones empty, 91, 92, 169n350 with wreath-holding doves, 78 See also enthroned figures thumbs, crushed, 102, 104, 104 Tiberias, Galilee city descriptions, 115, 173n29 economic prosperity of, 116 excavation challenges, 120, 173n18 Hammat settlement of, 116, 121 history of, 116, 117 Jewish population of, 115, 116 patriarchs of, 116, 117, 134 sculpture in, literary evidence, 120 synagogues of (see Hammat Tiberias synagogue mosaics) timbrels, 71, 75, 109, 110 tombs, 52, 71, 75, 150. final judgment symbolism, 67, 70 See also sarcophagi

Torah Greek translation of (see Septuagint) meditations on, 10–11 scrolls representing, 59, 60 teachers of, 60 torches sun gods with, 34–35, 35, 70, 71 Temple destruction with, 79, 80 zodiac sign personifications carrying, 69, 147, pl.2a, pl.10 Tosefta, 115 Tower of Babel, 131, 132, 149, pl.15a towers, 56, 56, 86, 87, 133, pl.15 towns, 56 See also cities, walled trees with animals of Earth, 57, 59 as composition filler elements, 128, 130 curses and clothing hanging from, 87, 88 fruit-blooming, 76, 79 musical instruments hanging from, 104, 104 with swallows’ nests, 82, 84 water-planted, 10 wicked falling from, 50, 51 trumpets, 109, 110, 112, 116, 172n434, pl.2e turnstiles, 25, 25–26 unicorns, 39, 44 Utrecht Psalter Texts, 1, 2, 7, 8, 153 n3 Canticles and ecclesiastical texts of, 150–51 content descriptions, 1 See also Utrecht Psalter illustrations Utrecht Psalter illustrations artists of, 102, 128, 158n33 drawing execution stages, 103, 162n159

vanity, 17–18 Vashti (biblical character), 43 Vatican Bible, 26 venom of snakes, 62, 63, 150 Vespasian (Roman general), 117 vessels with flowing water, 11,39, 40, 80, pl.2 libation vessel , 15, 16 prosperity symbolism, 15, 17, 35, 39 Victory, 12 Vienna Genesis, 2, 179n107 vines, 67, 70, 136 vipers. See serpents Virgo, 67, 69, 147, pl.2a, pl.10 visions, 64–67, 65 Vitruvius, 111 Vulgate,1, 20, 32, 35, 62, 80, 84, 92, 98, 102, 105,150, wall paintings, 139–40 See also Dura Europos synagogue wall paintings water, 11, 55, 85, 85–86, 87, 88, 71,76, 80, pl. 2, chariot-riding sun god exiting, 72 fountains, 47, 48, 118 Galilean urban systems of, 47, 48, 118 seas, 92–93, 93, 94, 106, 107, 109, 109 springs and streams, 33, 34, 67, 68, 118 three miracles of, 92–94, 93 See also rivers; River water beasts, 11, 79, 80, 136, pl.5, pl.5a, pl.5b, pl.5c water organs,109–12, pl.19, pl.19a water skin, 102, 108–9, 109, pl.18 wax, candle, 62, 63, 63 Weitzmann, Kurt, 2, 142, 145 wheat, 165n247

wheels, 74, 86, 133 See also zodiac wheels whips of discipline and punishment, 33, 33–34, 57, 58, 148 God’s judgment and testing, 47, 47, 106, 108 as passion instruments, 39, 39 wicked, the angels battling, 109, 109 attributes of, 9 curses on, 63, 64 deception of, 25, 27, 57, 59, 95, 98, 102 descriptions of, black clouds, 63, 64 descriptions of, bribery, 47, 48 descriptions of, pestilence, 8–9 descriptions of, severed heads, 64 descriptions of, snails/wax, 62–63, 63, 64 descriptions of, tormentors, 46, 47 descriptions of, venom of snakes, 62, 63, 150 divine justice and, 23, 23, 64, 82, 84 grass-cutting analogies, 49–50, 50 into netherworld, 12–13, 14, 15, 19, 19–20, 99, 100, 106, 108 pregnant with evil schemes, 19, 19 prosperity of, 15, 17 punishment of, 24, 58 tents of, 82, 84 treatment of poor, 21, 21–23, 22 turnstile walking, 25, 25–26 weapons of, 23, 24, 50, 51, 82, 84 widows, 71, 75, 87, 88, 109, 109 Wind (personification), 33, 34, 56, 57, 57, 58–59, 110, 112 wine, 15, 17

Index · 207

wings as angel attributes, 163n166 of dawn, 106, 106 escape with, 59, 60 of God, 31, 32, 61, 61, 90, 148 spirit of life personifications, 8, 9, 10, pl.1a See also angels Winter (personification), 79, 79–80, 147–48 women (female figures) barren mothers with children, 91, 92 with bathing babies, 79, 80, 106, 106 biblical queens, 39, 40–44 birthing scenes, 56, 57 caregivers as praiseworthy, 51, 53 daughters of Judah, 55–56, 56 evil schemes represented by birthing process, 19, 19 “His loving kindness” personifications, 54, 55 joyously singing and playing musical instruments, 71, 75 Mercy/Kindness personifications as palm-bearing, 121 nursing mothers, 39, 40, 43 paths/ways of God personifications, 45, 45–46, 176n31 season personifications, 80 winged, 8, 9, 10, pl.1a zodiac sign personifications, 67, 69, 147, pl.2a, pl.10 See also angels; Earth wreaths, 76, 78 Xanten Gospels, 128 Yalkut Shimoni, 102, 103, 170n395 Yaphiʿa synagogue, 156n21 Yehudai Gaon, 140

208 · Index

Zeus (god), 12, 121, 138–39, pl.6 zodiac mosaics, 134–35, 147. description overview, 68, 69, 116, 118–19 influences on, 147 nudity in, 12 season personifications, 5, 80, 116, 118, pl.2 sun gods featured on, 66, 70, 71–72, pl.2b, pl.3 zodiac sign personifications, 12, 69, 80, 133, 134, 135, pl.2, pl.2a, pl.2c, pl.2d, pl.3a zodiac wheels, 5, 67–70, 116–17, 147–48, 165n241 See also zodiac mosaics