Abram Epstein
My writing, which focuses primarily on Biblical Judaism and the Historical Jesus, strives to excavate textually ascertainable support for assertions which break through the doctrines of religious dogma propagated in contemporaneous scripture. I shy away from inference based on cultural comparisons and guesswork. My academic credentials are advanced graduate studies at NYU and post-graduate research with leading scholars. Four of my books are currently widely available, "The Matthias Scroll," "A Documented Biography of Jesus Before Christianity," "The Matthias Scroll--Select Second Edition," and "The case Against the Gospels' False Accusation of the Jews--Responsio Iudaeorum Nostrae Aetatis." I am also the author of the "Historical Haggadah," which may be ordered on its webste.
Address: New York, New York, United States
Address: New York, New York, United States
less
Related Authors
Interests
Uploads
Papers by Abram Epstein
Most, though not all commentaries find the word “neesah,” or “test” in the opening line, of immense importance. It reads: “God tested Abraham.” (Or, “put him to a test.”)
If we accept the premise that Abraham was somehow not clearly “measuring up” to the stature of the individual God had selected to be the Covenantal leader of the incipient Hebrew People--proved by the fact he needed to be “tested”--our question must be how was he NOT measuring up? Was he simply a “work in progress” which this “test” was designed to either fully expose if he disobeyed (and so, rule him out as God’s error) or alternately, complete his education about the taboo of child sacrifice, or is there another explanation for God’s seemingly cruel command to make Isaac a fire- offering.
Naturally, I would not be writing this if I did not hope to unravel the tethers immemorially constraining Isaac, but with more profound purpose to liberate God from our annual deep-seated, if repressed resentment, that God could have ever done such an insidious thing.
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
But did Jesus himself actually teach that the Torah’s laws would become passe after his crucifixion?
As remarkable a claim as it may seem, my new book, A Documented Biography of Jesus Before Christianity (anticipated release, summer 2015) now presents a profoundly different Jesus than Christians or Jews have met before, trapped in a drama that should deeply move all of us.
On the technical side, my method shares nothing with Bultmann’s two-source critical approach--or with the contrarian criteria establishing Geza Vermes’ “Jewish” Jesus.
Rather, it depends on hypothesizing historicity of specific events excavated from beneath strata of Christianizing theology if their occurrence illuminates other hitherto obscure scriptural passages. I have labelled my approach, “The method of precipitous insight.”
To wit: If an insight into an event in the Gospels is capable of dramatically clarifying thematic and linguistic uncertainties found elsewhere in the text, the insight, called “precipitous,” is elevated to the level of hypothesis. As hypothesis, it may be “tested” by its predicted consequences. If, for example, it links to other text, creating further pronounced insight, the exponential increase in clarity is likely an advance toward a unified theory.
Finding the historical core in the Gospels’ “midrashim”
The use of “lesson-legends” to amplify and interpret religious truths was a deeply-rooted literary technique of the ancient rabbis. Such legends embellished and dramatized episodes described in the Torah (giving them an extra aura of divine intention) and authoring them was a standard practice in Jesus’ era. The Hebrew name for them, midrashim, meant made-up stories which interpret the meaning of presumed actual events. In the early centuries of our era, such dramatic, theological enhancement through legends was never created from “whole cloth,” but consisted of fancifully embroidering events considered historical, with their imaginative elaboration built on the supposed actual occurrences. Therefore, one may say, a midrash always had at its core an event regarded by its author as historically true.
Christianity’s most famous candidates include: Jesus being born from a virgin, his healing incurable diseases, turning water to wine; Jesus contemplating the adulteress brought before him for judgment, his temptation by satan on the Jerusalem precipice, walking on water, calming the storm, feeding thousands from a small basket of food, and giving Peter the keys to the coming Kingdom of God.
Additionally, Jesus’ own words were often cloaked in interpretive “midrashic” embellishment, and they too must be the subject of close scrutiny and re-translation in order to unearth what he actually said, and reach the New Testament’s historical stratum.
When, like oysters, the Christianizing shells are opened for inspection, the startling drama of Jesus’ life emerges as the “pearls” of history are strung together.
The reader should be aware that midrashic analysis is not the same as searching out a natural explanation for seeming miracles. For example, others have suggested that the “miracle of feeding a multitude from a few loaves” may be explained by a storage facility for baked goods to which Jesus had access. Attempting to reduce the “miracles” to mundane episodes by guessing at “plausible explanations” is a false step obfuscating what actually occurred. To speculate in such a manner is to further gloss and conceal the interconnected sequence of unfolding occurrences, burying the actual history beneath the description.
The midrashim, it should be stated, differ from parables--meshalim-- which do not have a historical core. Meshalim--are short stories with a lesson meant to interpret or explain a higher moral truth, generally embodied in a scriptural passage. They are familiar to us as the Gospels’ “parables.”
Drafts by Abram Epstein
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
Most, though not all commentaries find the word “neesah,” or “test” in the opening line, of immense importance. It reads: “God tested Abraham.” (Or, “put him to a test.”)
If we accept the premise that Abraham was somehow not clearly “measuring up” to the stature of the individual God had selected to be the Covenantal leader of the incipient Hebrew People--proved by the fact he needed to be “tested”--our question must be how was he NOT measuring up? Was he simply a “work in progress” which this “test” was designed to either fully expose if he disobeyed (and so, rule him out as God’s error) or alternately, complete his education about the taboo of child sacrifice, or is there another explanation for God’s seemingly cruel command to make Isaac a fire- offering.
Naturally, I would not be writing this if I did not hope to unravel the tethers immemorially constraining Isaac, but with more profound purpose to liberate God from our annual deep-seated, if repressed resentment, that God could have ever done such an insidious thing.
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
But did Jesus himself actually teach that the Torah’s laws would become passe after his crucifixion?
As remarkable a claim as it may seem, my new book, A Documented Biography of Jesus Before Christianity (anticipated release, summer 2015) now presents a profoundly different Jesus than Christians or Jews have met before, trapped in a drama that should deeply move all of us.
On the technical side, my method shares nothing with Bultmann’s two-source critical approach--or with the contrarian criteria establishing Geza Vermes’ “Jewish” Jesus.
Rather, it depends on hypothesizing historicity of specific events excavated from beneath strata of Christianizing theology if their occurrence illuminates other hitherto obscure scriptural passages. I have labelled my approach, “The method of precipitous insight.”
To wit: If an insight into an event in the Gospels is capable of dramatically clarifying thematic and linguistic uncertainties found elsewhere in the text, the insight, called “precipitous,” is elevated to the level of hypothesis. As hypothesis, it may be “tested” by its predicted consequences. If, for example, it links to other text, creating further pronounced insight, the exponential increase in clarity is likely an advance toward a unified theory.
Finding the historical core in the Gospels’ “midrashim”
The use of “lesson-legends” to amplify and interpret religious truths was a deeply-rooted literary technique of the ancient rabbis. Such legends embellished and dramatized episodes described in the Torah (giving them an extra aura of divine intention) and authoring them was a standard practice in Jesus’ era. The Hebrew name for them, midrashim, meant made-up stories which interpret the meaning of presumed actual events. In the early centuries of our era, such dramatic, theological enhancement through legends was never created from “whole cloth,” but consisted of fancifully embroidering events considered historical, with their imaginative elaboration built on the supposed actual occurrences. Therefore, one may say, a midrash always had at its core an event regarded by its author as historically true.
Christianity’s most famous candidates include: Jesus being born from a virgin, his healing incurable diseases, turning water to wine; Jesus contemplating the adulteress brought before him for judgment, his temptation by satan on the Jerusalem precipice, walking on water, calming the storm, feeding thousands from a small basket of food, and giving Peter the keys to the coming Kingdom of God.
Additionally, Jesus’ own words were often cloaked in interpretive “midrashic” embellishment, and they too must be the subject of close scrutiny and re-translation in order to unearth what he actually said, and reach the New Testament’s historical stratum.
When, like oysters, the Christianizing shells are opened for inspection, the startling drama of Jesus’ life emerges as the “pearls” of history are strung together.
The reader should be aware that midrashic analysis is not the same as searching out a natural explanation for seeming miracles. For example, others have suggested that the “miracle of feeding a multitude from a few loaves” may be explained by a storage facility for baked goods to which Jesus had access. Attempting to reduce the “miracles” to mundane episodes by guessing at “plausible explanations” is a false step obfuscating what actually occurred. To speculate in such a manner is to further gloss and conceal the interconnected sequence of unfolding occurrences, burying the actual history beneath the description.
The midrashim, it should be stated, differ from parables--meshalim-- which do not have a historical core. Meshalim--are short stories with a lesson meant to interpret or explain a higher moral truth, generally embodied in a scriptural passage. They are familiar to us as the Gospels’ “parables.”
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.
by Abram Epstein (C) 2022
If you’re like me, and you went to Hebrew school obediently ossifying in your mind for all time the standardized version of liberation from slavery in Egypt these reassessments of our Passover symbols may seem doubtful. That happens whenever religion bumps into history. Excavating reality from dramatic enhancement often leads scholars to disavow “spiritually miraculous” elements, sometimes to the detriment of their stature in traditional family gatherings, especially the seder. So please don’t blame me for causing family problems. In recent decades, for example, a contingency of so-called Biblical “Minimalists” has decried the notion there even was a Hebrew escape from Egyptian bondage. Fear not, I shall not lead you on that trek into their wilderness.
In fact, what follows will not result in the loss of the spiritual side of Pesach. As I hope you may understand, the better appreciation of our central symbols: Lamb, matzah and bitter herbs shall illuminate the profound drama of the actual Exodus. But let me back up a step, if briefly, to invite those only marginally familiar with the subject, including my gentile fellow scholars to share this inquiry, with a seat at the table to enjoy the discussion.