As we have seen, the theological distinction that exists today between rabbinic and Christian communities did not exist before the mid to late second century AD. Prior to that time and going back to the earliest periods of the Biblical Period, Judaism maintained belief in Complex Monotheism including a corporeal God and incarnational tendencies. These ancient Jewish concepts (including the belief that the one, true God YHWH exists as more than one, simultaneously-present, divine, hypostasis or person) have been thoroughly documented by Jewish scholars and religious historians who have no desire to validate Christian teaching. The historical record invites us to inquire as to exactly when Judaism first began to reject these commonly-held, biblical and post-biblical, Jewish beliefs.

The rejection of Complex Monotheism (and the related doctrines of divine corporeality and incarnation) and the demand for Simple Monotheism that is exhibited in modern Judaism is primarily traceable to two major historical periods. The first major step occurred in the decades between the Bar Kokhba Revolt of (135 AD) and the redaction of the Talmud (200 AD.) The works of medieval Jewish philosophers like Saadia Gaon and Maimonides later solidified modern Judaism’s rejection of Complex Monotheistic teachings. Once again, Segal and Sommer provide the historical documentation for these developments in their books.

Earlier in our study we discussed beliefs of Rabbi Akiba that are recorded in the Talmud. In those quotes we saw that leading figures of that period (Rabbi Akiba and Rabbi Yosi) both articulated the belief that the Hebrew Bible presented God as multiple, hypostatic, simultaneously-present, personal figures.

One passage says: His throne was fiery flames (Dan. 7:9) and another passage says: Until thrones were placed; and One that was ancient of days did sit – there is no contradiction; One (throne) for Him, and one for David: this is the view of R. Akiba. Said R. Yosi the Galilean to him: Akiba, how long will you treat the divine presence as profane! Rather, one for justice and one for grace. Did he accept (this explanation) from him, or did he not accept it? – come and hear: One for justice and one for grace; this is the view of R. Akiba. 21 (Footnote 21: b Hag. 14a Tr Epstein. Cf. also b. Sanhedrin 38a.) These two rabbis were perplexed by the seeming contradiction in the verses. In one place, more than one throne is indicated by the plural form of the noun. In another place “His (God’s) throne was fiery flames” implies only one throne. Does this mean that the “son of man” in the next verse was enthroned next to God? Rabbi Akiba (110-135 C.E.) affirms the possibility, stating that the other throne was for David. Akiba must be identifying the “son of man” with the Davidic messiah. Nor was R. Akiba alone in the rabbinic movement in identifying the figure in heaven as the messiah. There is some evidence that Judaism contained other traditions linking these verses in Daniel with the messiah. However plausible R. Akiba’s interpretation, it is opposed by his colleague, R. Yosi, who explicitly states that the throne is for a divine rather than a messianic figure. It is not clear that Akiba would have seen the two categories as contradictory. Yet, the outcome of that controversy was that R. Akiba agreed that the two thrones in heaven should symbolize the two aspects of God’s providence – His mercy and His justice. God is viewed as sitting on one throne when judging mercifully and on the other when judging by strict justice. It is significant that a central figure in the rabbinic movement like R. Akiba was alleged to have proposed messianic interpretations of Daniel 7:9. Ironically he subsequently reconsidered those opinions by substituting an opinion in which both figures in heaven were seen to be divine, one God in two hypostases….Since R. Akiba died as a martyr as a result of the failure of the Bar Kokhba rebellion and since he was known to have supported Bar Kokhba’s messianic claim, it is not surprising that a tradition reports that he recanted his views. But since the tradition comes to us only in a later text, we must be prepared to accept the probability the alternate interpretation of Daniel 7:9f. – namely, that the two thrones were for mercy and justice – was a later addition, ascribing the “orthodox” interpretation to a great rabbinic leader, whom time had proven wrong. Thus, the messianic controversy over Dan. 7:13 is probably from R. Akiba’s time; the mercy-justice revision is probably from his students. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 47-49

The discussion between Rabbi Akiba and Rabbi Yosi recorded in the Talmud would have taken place before the end of the Bar Kokhba revolt in 135 AD when Akiba died. As Segal explains the comments made by these prominent, rabbinic authorities demonstrate that Complex Monotheism had not yet been rejected by the rabbinic sect of Judaism during the early second century AD. Furthermore, the attribution of these particular beliefs to leading rabbinic figures of the second century AD and the inclusion of such accounts in the Talmud provides evidence that objections to such beliefs were still not firmly established even when the Talmud itself was first redacted at around 200 AD.

In his book, Two Powers in Heaven, Segal provides an account of what can be known from the historical documents and material that we have available. He explains that the rabbinic rejection of Complex Monotheism is difficult to pinpoint exactly. As he explains, attempting to date the Jewish rejection of Complex Monotheism prior to Rabbi Akiba using the rabbinic texts “has problems.”

In the rabbinic evidence, dating was an especially difficult problem, because the traditions crystallized over a long period of time, forming texts with complicated lattices and strata. Even when we could date a document with relative certainty, we could not be sure that the earliest form of that tradition was present in it. In such cases previous scholars have felt relatively free to assume a long and sometimes fanciful pre-history. With more careful attention to the text we were forced to conclude that the rabbinic polemic against “two powers,” like most rabbinic traditions, can not be dated earlier than the time of Ishmael and Akiba. While even such an early dating has problems in rabbinic texts, there were many hints of greater antiquity. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 260

Part of the difficulty of using Talmudic accounts relates to the fact that the Talmud wasn’t redacted (edited, written down) until around 200 AD. However, the traditions contained in Talmudic accounts chiefly cover a period of Judaism beginning at 70 AD. So, even taking the Talmudic attributions of particular ideas at face value would not escape the inherent difficulty in dating any of the theological perspectives contained in the Talmud to any point prior to 70-200 AD. As Segal explains, the rabbinic perspective on the separation of the rabbinic sect of Judaism from the Christian sect of Judaism is only available from writings that originate one or two centuries after the split occurred.

Furthermore, hidden within the reports is the Jewish witness to the rise of Christianity, even though the texts date from centuries later. They certainly give us a good idea of the issues over which Christianity and Judaism separated. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 267

It is important to recognize the interval between the earliest written rabbinic record and the separation of Christian and non-Christian Judaism. Even one century is a long period of historical development. Imagine if the earliest Western account of World War I wasn’t written until 2020 AD. Surely, we’d want to take that gap into account when developing our understanding of important related causes and events of the war. The same is true when we examine rabbinic literature from after 200 AD. We need to recognize the amount of time that took place as we investigate theological developments within sects of Judaism that occurred between 30 AD and 150-200 AD.

In the quotes below, Segal discusses the Complex Monotheistic beliefs that we have seen displayed in biblical texts, Philo’s writings, the New Testament, and other ancient Jewish sources. He explains that it is not possible to decide when the rabbinic opposition to these doctrines started.

In this quick tour of apocalyptic and mystical literature we have established certain things. First, it seems obvious that traditions similar to the ones which the rabbis dismissed as “two powers” heresy in the second century can be seen in sectarian literature of the first century. However, just when and where the traditions became heretical is a vexing question. It is certainly true that many of the traditions about the angel of YHWH would not have been taken as heretical by the rabbis. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 200

It is not too much to suppose that some kind of argument about contrasting manifestations of God in different theophany texts was known to Philo and used by him but that it was later opposed by the rabbis who called other people who espoused that kind of argument “two powers” heretics. It is not possible to decide exactly when the rabbinic opposition to such doctrines started. For one thing, it is nearly impossible to be sure of the wording of rabbinic traditions before 200 C.E. much less before 70 C.E., when the rabbis became the leaders of the Jewish community. Most rabbinic traditions, at least as we have them, were written subsequently. So we cannot blithely assume that the rabbinic reports date from the Second Commonwealth. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 43

In the quote above, Segal states that the rabbis did not become the leaders of the Jewish community before 70 AD. This date marks the destruction of the Temple by the Romans and the end of the second Jewish commonwealth. Prior to this point, the rabbis were only one sect competing for leadership over the Jewish community. The rabbis of the second century were the successors of an earlier Jewish sect more commonly known as the Pharisees. Their chief rival was the priestly sect known as the Sadducees.

Pharisees – Pharisees, one of the two great Jewish religious and political parties of the second commonwealth. Their opponents were the Sadducees, and it appears that the Sadducees gave them their name, perushim, Hebrew for "separatists" or "deviants." The Pharisees began their activities during or after the Hasmonean revolt (c.166-142 BC). The Pharisees upheld an interpretation of Judaism that was in opposition to the priestly Temple cult…Though some supported the revolt against Rome in AD 70, most did not. One Pharisee was Yohanan ben Zakkai, who fled to Jamnia, where he was instrumental in developing post-Temple Judaism. By separating Judaism from dependence on the Temple cult, and by stressing the direct relation between the individual and God, the Pharisees laid the groundwork for normative rabbinic Judaism. – Columbia Encyclopedia

Sadducees – Sadducees, sect of Jews formed around the time of the Hasmonean revolt (c.200 BC)…Eventually, they reached an accommodation with the Pharisees, which allowed them to serve as priests in exchange for acceptance of Pharasitical rulings regarding the law. Their sect was centered on the cult of the Temple, and they ceased to exist after its destruction in AD 70. – Columbia Encyclopedia

It was not until the Temple was destroyed in 70 AD that the influence of the priestly Sadducees came to an end giving the Pharisees a greater degree of authority over the Jewish community. As Segal states, since 70 AD is a historic landmark turning point regarding the rise of rabbinic dominance in Judaism, it is impossible to assert that rabbinic views expressed between 70-200 AD were, in fact, authoritative in the Jewish community before 70 AD.

Below Segal provides further explanation why Complex Monotheism cannot be considered to have been heretical prior to the second century AD. First, he explains that historical documents do not provide much evidence that belief in multiple hypostases (persons) of God would have been considered independent enough to be considered heretical. Second, Segal states that the designation “heretical” cannot legitimately be applied prior to the second century AD, because, we do not even know that the rabbinic sect (which later outlawed Complex Monotheism) was in control of Judaism until the second century AD.

As Segal has shown, applying rabbinic views of orthodoxy which are not documented until the second century AD backwards onto earlier Jewish views is historically unjustified. There is no historical basis for assuming that first-century Judaism felt the same way about Complex Monotheistic beliefs as late, second-century rabbinic Judaism. This is especially true since Complex Monotheism is prevalent in pre-rabbinic Judaism, since Complex Monotheism is articulated by Rabbi Akiba himself in the middle of the second century AD, since a denunciation of Complex Monotheism isn’t available until some point between 70 and 200 AD when the rabbis assumed primary control of the Jewish community, and since the texts documenting that denunciation did not exist prior to 200 AD.

While the evidence abounds for the existence of dangerous scriptural traditions there is not much evidence that angelic or hypostatic creatures were considered independent enough to provide definite targets for the “two powers” polemic. Of course, our knowledge of first century Judaism is quite limited. In the extreme Gnostic systems, where the power with the Hebrew name opposed a higher power, the heresy is clear. But we have no solid evidence that such systems existed in apocalyptic literature before the early second century. Then too, to a certain extent the application of the term “heresy” is anachronistic because the earliest witness to the rabbinic charge is the second century, and we cannot be sure that the rabbis were firmly in control of Judaism until the second century. So we cannot be sure that any of the systems would have been called heresy in the first century or even if there was a central power interested to define it. But we cannot altogether dismiss the possibility that some apocalyptic groups posited an independent power as early as the first century or that other groups, among them the predecessors of the rabbis, would have called them heretics. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 200-201

But what is the guarantee that Jews of the first century would have reacted in the same way as the second century rabbis towards these apocalyptic and Christian concepts of mediation? Perhaps they would have taken a more tolerant attitude toward these ideas of mediation as Philo did even while maintaining strict adherence to law and monotheism. Perhaps the term “two powers” is anachronistic as applied to the first century. After all, not all kinds of Christianity can be said even to be guilty of the crime. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 215

As Segal sums up, not until the end of the second-century AD can we responsibly conclude that Judaism established an objection to the beliefs of Complex Monotheism.

By the end of the second century, at least two different kinds of heretics were opposed in rabbinic polemic. The earliest polemic was designed to counter apocalyptic, mystical or Christian identification of a manlike figure enthroned as judge next to God, as described in various epiphany texts. The second to emerge involved the claim that the creator was ignorant of a higher god and that there was a complete separation of divine mercy from divine justice, even to the extent of making them properties of two different gods. The first tradition could be seen as early as Philo in Hellenistic Judaism and was continuously employed by mystics, apocalyptists and Christians. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 244

It is important to recognize that the rabbinic literature itself is the earliest available Jewish source articulating a rejection of Complex Monotheism. As Segal states, it is certainly possible to identify Complex Monotheism within Jewish groups prior to the rabbinic discussions featured in the Talmud (70-200 AD.) However, finding evidence of a Jewish rejection of Complex Monotheism prior to that period is difficult. The fact that Segal qualifies identifications of heresy prior to the second century AD as subjective again reinforces the historical reality that we have no evidence that the consistently accepted Complex Monotheism of earlier Judaism was officially rejected during that period.

Once the extra-rabbinical evidence was consulted it became obvious that the rabbis’ second century opponents had first century forebears. In apocalyptic literature as well as in the Philonic corpus it was often difficult to say whether the borderline between sectarian strife and heresy was actually crossed. No doubt the line was drawn subjectively, depending on the perspective of the observer. It is now possible to construct a coherent, synchronized history of the tradition. The early biblical theophanies which picture God as a man or confuse YHWH with an angel are the basis of the tradition….This speculation continued among a number of groups and was later canonized by the rabbinic community. In no way can every occurrence be considered heretical. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 260-261

In these quotes Segal has described intrinsic limitations against using the earliest rabbinic document (the Talmud) to attest to whether Complex Monotheistic beliefs can be considered orthodox or heretical in earlier periods of Jewish history. The need to establish a Jewish objection to Complex Monotheism within rabbinic literature demonstrates the difficulty of finding an objection in Jewish literature from the pre-rabbinic period of Judaism. After all, if we had ample and clear rejection of Complex Monotheism in pre-rabbinic Jewish literature, it would not be anachronistic to apply third-century rabbinic assessments to pre-rabbinic Jewish theology. However, we have seen Segal and Sommer both articulating that applying third-century, rabbinic views backward onto earlier Judaism is not historically responsible. This shows the inherent difficulty of finding Jewish texts prior to the third century AD which reject Complex Monotheistic beliefs. This difficulty is contrasted to the ease of finding Complex Monotheism within the Hebrew Bible itself as well as in the literature of Jewish apocalyptists, Jewish-Christians, early rabbinic figures in the Talmud, and Jewish mystics.

Put simply, the fact that we must rely so heavily on Talmudic and later rabbinic texts as the basis for the Jewish rejection of Complex Monotheism itself attests to the fact that such a rejection cannot be found outside of and, more importantly, before the redaction of the Talmud in 200 AD. This means that, as a matter of documentation and evidence, the rejection of Complex Monotheism within Judaism prior to 200 AD remains a hypothesis that is unavailable to historical support. Segal concludes the quote below with similar ideas in mind. Here he states that while groups like Christians, apocalyptic Jews, and Philo demonstrate that Complex Monotheism was accepted within Judaism prior to the second century AD, we can only date rabbinic arguments against Complex Monotheism to the second century AD.

By the time of [Emperor] Julian therefore, the “two powers” argument was quite normally used both by and against Christians. This points to the existence of firm literary traditions but we know from the apocalyptic and Philonic evidence that the history of such traditions extended back as early as the first century, even when we can only date the earliest rabbinic recension of these arguments to the second century. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 232-233

The reality is that we simply don’t have near as much historical documentation about the belief and standards of the rabbinic sect of Judaism prior to the second century AD as we do for other sects of Judaism. As Segal explains below, Christianity is the only first-century sect of Judaism for which we have considerable documentation of its beliefs. Again, the clear implication is that we don’t have much information on the specific beliefs accepted (or rejected) by rabbinic (Pharisaic) Judaism prior to the second century AD.

To summarize, the one sectarian movement within Judaism about which we have considerable evidence is Christianity. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 218

Given that the traditions incorporated into the Talmud provide an early witness of Simple Monotheism within Judaism and its departure from the Complex Monotheism that was embraced by its Jewish sectarian contemporaries and predecessors, it is of no small significance that the rabbinic texts themselves do not provide a clear account of these critical theological and historical developments. Even the earliest testimony from the Simple Monotheistic camp comes over a century or two after the crucial developments and fails to present a clear identification or explanation of exactly when, where, and why Complex Monotheism began to be rejected in the rabbinic community. This lack of clarity and explanation adds further difficulty to any attempt to responsibly argue for a rejection of Complex Monotheism within Judaism prior to the third century AD.

In the following quote, Segal sums up the chronology of theological developments as it can be determined from the available historical evidence. As Segal explains the rabbinic documents only present the rabbinic side of the argument about Complex Monotheism. The manner in which rabbinic literature discusses these issues has the result of obscuring the historical progression of the debate. In other words, the rabbinic texts themselves do not provide or allow for a clear chronological understanding of the developments within Judaism regarding these important theological issues.

The rabbinic texts, which recorded only the rabbinic side of the argument, ordered and related the traditions thematically or by scriptural reference. This unintentionally obfuscated the historical progression of the debate. When both sides of the tradition have been presented and compared according to their use of scripture, the original order of the debate can be reconstructed. Once the debate is reconstructed, we are able to understand some of the historical issues affecting the exegesis. By the time of the consolidation of the rabbinic authority at Yavneh and the attempt at a new Jewish orthodoxy, mediation traditions were seen as a clear and present danger within rabbinic Judaism. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 263-264

In the quote above Segal cites “the rabbinic authority at Yavneh” as the first example of “an attempt at a new Jewish orthodoxy” which began to view Complex Monotheism with concern. Segal’s mention of “the rabbinic authority at Yavneh” is a reference to the community lead by Rabbi Gamaliel after the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD.

Rabban Gamaliel – Rabban Gamaliel II (also spelled Gamliel, Hebrew: רבן גמליאל דיבנה‎) was the first person to lead the Sanhedrin as Nasi after the fall of the second temple, which occurred in 70 CE. Gamliel was appointed nasi approximately 10 years later. Gamaliel II was the son of Shimon ben Gamaliel, one of Jerusalem's foremost men in the war against the Romans,[2] and grandson of Gamaliel I. To distinguish him from the latter he is also called Gamliel of Yavne. – wikipedia.org

Gamaliel II – The recognized head of the Jews in Palestine during the last two decades of the first and at the beginning of the second century. – Jewish Encyclopedia

Jabneh – On the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem by the Romans in ad 70, the academy of Jabneh—established by Johanan ben Zakkai—became one of the most important centres of Jewish learning. At a meeting of rabbis held there about AD 100, the final canon of the Hebrew Bible was fixed. The crusaders built a fortress there in the 12th century. – Encyclopedia Britannica

Talmud and Midrash, The making of the Mishna: 2nd–3rd centuries – This era, distinguished by a continuous attempt to consolidate the fragmentary Midrashic and Mishnaic material, culminated in the compilation of the Mishna at the beginning of the 3rd century ce...Other compilations were made at Yavne, a Palestinian town near the Mediterranean, as part of the effort to revitalize Judaism after the disaster of 70 ce. – Encyclopedia Britannica

It is important to take note of Segal’s use of the phrase “attempt at a new Jewish orthodoxy.” With this remark, Segal has identified the official rejection of Complex Monotheism as resulting from the arrival of a late-dating, new standard of what was (and was not) acceptable within Judaism. Had Complex Monotheism been previously rejected by all of orthodox Judaism, there would have been no need to exclude it as part of a newly developed standard for orthodoxy.

Elsewhere, as he discusses the formation of a new Jewish authority, its new definition of orthodoxy, and the eventual rejection of Complex Monotheism, Segal explains the importance of Gamaliel II and the community at Yavneh. Segal dates the relevant events to the period after 80 AD.

We must realize that problems abound even in the definition and etymology of the rabbinic word for “sectarian” or “heretic.” In English the words “sectarian” and “heretic” express different degrees of disapproval and social distance. A sectarian is probably best described as a disapproved of rival among many factions within the parent group, while a heretic is someone who began in the parent group but who has put himself beyond the pale with respect to some canon of orthodoxy. The transition between “sectarian” and “heretic” in rabbinic literature would have been apparent only when rabbinic Judaism was acknowledged to have become “normative.” Unfortunately, there is no scholarly consensus about when rabbinic thought became orthodox. Furthermore the rabbis assume that their interpretation of Judaism was always orthodox and never distinguish clearly between “sectarians” and “heretics.” So far as they were concerned, any interpretation not part of their accepted community was “heretical” though there was certainly a time when non-pharisaic interpretations were only “sectarian.” This is what one would expect generally in long conflicts within a community. Since any community includes people who may share only a few important norms and mutual connections, not every argument is grounds for fission. Rather, when a crisis arises, a period of debate takes place when the issues are clarified. New authority may develop to deal with the crisis. Temporary sanctions may be applied to warn the heretics of their behavior. Only at the end of a long process of definition will the heresy grow clear. However, after the limit has been set, the past history of the issue may be seen in much less ambiguous light. Once the end point is known the development takes on a different aspect. What we know about the rabbinic period seems to follow this general model. The standard, rabbinic modes of expulsion do not seem to have been formalized in the first and second centuries. At least, we do not have good evidence to suppose their use against the minim. However, the process of exclusion was certainly underway by the time of the Mishnah’s codification (200 C.E.) for the Mishnah prohibits the leader of the service from saying certain benedictions associated with the minim. Since the instrument of expulsion is liturgical in this case, perhaps we may trace the process back to the Yavnean community where Gamaliel (about 80-115) ordered Samuel the Small to compose a “benediction” against the minim. This would have made participation in the synagogue services impossible for anyone indentifying himself as a min. Though the tradition is from a later source and may have been embellished in many respects, such a development would not be unexpected in the Yavnean community, which had to deal with the problem of understanding what the term “Jew” was to mean after the Temple was destroyed. Therefore we are dealing with a definition of the limits of Judaism which developed over the time and which may not have reached uniform practice until the very end of the second century. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 4-6

It is important to note that in the beginning of the quote above Segal explains the differences between a “sectarian” and a “heretic.” The term “sectarian” describes someone within a religion that has a difference of opinion on some doctrinal matter, but whose beliefs are not considered to be outside of orthodoxy. A “heretic” on the other hand, is someone whose doctrinal differences of opinion place them outside of what is considered the orthodox and acceptable beliefs of the religion. Therefore, it is possible to have different sects within a religion that have some disagreements, but are still all considered to be orthodox and legitimately part of the religion. A heretical group, however, is rejected from the religion for having beliefs which deviate and contradict acceptable teaching. Segal notes that before 200 AD, non-pharisaic (non-rabbinic) understandings of Judaism were merely considered to be sectarian. In other words, Jewish Complex Monotheists represented a sect of Judaism with particular conceptions of God that may have differed from other sects or individuals, but which were, nevertheless, still considered acceptable within Judaism. As we have seen, there is evidence of Complex Monotheism even within the rabbinic sect itself prior to 200 AD. Complex Monotheistic beliefs were not considered to be heretical until after later generations of the rabbinic (Pharisaic) sect had established new authority and new standards of belief at some time nearing 200 AD. Throughout his book, Segal is careful to specify that during the first and early second century, Christians were accepted as sectarians among other sectarians. They were not rejected as heretics alongside other heretics. From what may be known from the historical records of both sides, as far as first and second century Judaism were concerned, Christianity was considered a sectarian movement, not a heretical one. Segal uses the following kind of language when he speaks of Christianity in his writing.

To summarize, the one sectarian movement within Judaism about which we have considerable evidence is Christianity. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 218

The idea of a separate hypostasis of the divinity must be functionally equivalent to being an angelic presence. Because of the complexity of the phenomenon, only the broadest outlines can be suggested. Nor will it always be possible to define a sectarian belief as heresy….But it is possible to show that both inside and outside of the rabbinic community, the existence of a principal angelic creature did not seem to be at issue. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 186-188

Beginning at Yavneh after 80 AD, rabbinic Jewish authorities began to take steps to curb Complex Monotheistic beliefs in their synagogues. The process could not have been universally established prior to 135 AD because prominent rabbinic leaders like Rabbi Yosi and Rabbi Akiba (whom we have discussed previously) were still expressing some form of Complex Monotheistic beliefs at that time. However, at some point between 135 and 200 AD rabbinic authorities became effective at instituting the exclusion of Complex Monotheistic Jews and beliefs from rabbinic, synagogue communities. 

The mishnaic evidence emphasizes the second thrust of the rabbinic offensive against the heresy – ostracism from the synagogue. It is likely that the “two powers” sects were among the heretical groups excluded from the synagogue during earliest times, but it is not easy to characterize or date the entire battle. The process of ostracism probably received its first impetus from Gamaliel – who expanded the curse against enemies of the synagogue in the liturgy to include the minim. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 152

Having seen the relevance of the rabbinic community at Yavneh under Gamaliel II, we now return to the Segal’s discussion above concerning developments within Judaism that resulted in the rejection of Complex Monotheism within Judaism. For context we have repeated the entire quote. The bold section begins the new material that we did not present earlier.

After discussing the relevance of the community at Yavneh after 80 AD, Segal describes the factors involved in the rabbinic attempt to reformulate orthodoxy. He identifies political issues resulting from the failed revolt against the Romans as a critical element in the creation of new standards for post-Temple Judaism. The greater influence awarded to the Pharisaic rabbis by the elimination of the Sadducees, allowed them to begin to take steps toward moving Judaism in a new direction which would start the process of excluding particular Jews and Jewish beliefs that had previously enjoyed long-term acceptance within pre-rabbinic Judaism, including Complex Monotheism in general and Christianity in particular.

The rabbinic texts, which recorded only the rabbinic side of the argument, ordered and related the traditions thematically or by scriptural reference. This unintentionally obfuscated the historical progression of the debate. When both sides of the tradition have been presented and compared according to their use of scripture, the original order of the debate can be reconstructed. Once the debate is reconstructed, we are able to understand some of the historical issues affecting the exegesis. By the time of the consolidation of the rabbinic authority at Yavneh and the attempt at a new Jewish orthodoxy, mediation traditions were seen as a clear and present danger within rabbinic Judaism. No doubt the rabbis’ concern was linked to the political events which immediately preceded. The war had stimulated a terrible crisis of faith. Furthermore Christians and others had taken the fall of Jerusalem as proof of the end of the Jewish dispensation. Such ideas were heinous to the majority of the Jewish community. A new set of standards was necessary to insure survival. In asserting further control over the synagogue, the rabbis excluded any sectarian who compromised monotheism from participating in the service. This meant that Christians, among others, were excluded from Jewish life. The growing emphasis on strict monotheism characterizes the rabbinic movement and sets it off from the other sects of its time….“two powers” heresy has a clear Jewish sectarian setting as well. Apparently, along with the Jewish sectarians, gentiles who had been drawn to the synagogue to hear the Bible proclaimed were attracted to biblical monotheism in a form that distinguished between the supreme God and a divine agent, possibly in a more extreme form than the system that Philo had described. All such doctrines, whether in apocalypticism, Christianity or philosophical speculations, were probably condemned by the rabbis as early as the end of the first century and the beginning of the second. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 263-264

Below, Segal again stresses the impact the political aftermath of the post-70 AD period had on the development of new definitions of Judaism. At that time, a competition to oversee the greater Jewish community and its theology took place. As they amassed their own religious authority, the Pharisaic rabbis, motivated at least in part by new and uneasy religious and political circumstances, began to excise long-standing and widely-held Jewish beliefs (particularly Complex Monotheism) from the synagogue communities.

Further research is certainly necessary to uncover the social dynamics of this hostility. The exegetical nature of our texts should not preclude such inquiry. In the early post-war confusion, many groups were doubtlessly making claims for the authority to speak for the entire Jewish community. The conflict, as we have it recorded in “religious texts,” was expressed in theological rather than political or social terms. No doubt, some social and political forces were being expressed in the religious controversies. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 267

In the following quote, Segal explains that the second-century rabbinic authorities developed doctrinal norms in a manner designed to exclude Jews who believed in Complex Monotheism. The need for rabbinic authorities to formulate the orthodox position on this issue demonstrates that prior to 70-200 AD Judaism had no intrinsic, established, existing prohibition against Complex Monotheism or a requirement for Simple Monotheism. This fact, which Segal again states below, is consistent with what we have already seen. There were many Jewish sects that held to various forms of Complex Monotheism in pre-rabbinic and early-rabbinic periods of Judaism. The presence of various groups possessing these beliefs itself evidences that Complex Monotheism was not barred from Judaism until sometime later.

Since we know from the previous passage that “two powers” referred to Christians and not extreme Gnostics, we have to conclude that “two powers” was a catch-all term for many different groups – including Christians, Gnostics, and Jews…The rabbis are saying that many varieties of Jewish sects – including Christians and Gnostics – are guilty of violating an essential premise of Judaism, even while they think they are exegeting scripture correctly. The rabbis are involved in the formulation of orthodoxy – a task necessary in their view because some Jewish sects have ceased to understand the theological center of Judaism….Although the designation is apt from the rabbinic perspective it is also exaggerated from the Christian one. In fact, neither apocalyptic, mystical, nor Christianized Judaism affirmed two separate deities. Each understood itself to be monotheistic, giving special emphasis to one divine hypostasis or manifestation. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 58-59

The last few lines of the quote above are worth highlighting. Here Segal acknowledges that Christian Judaism understood itself as monotheistic and would have defined Jesus’ nature as a hypostasis of the one true God. Earlier we saw how Segal identified the assertion of independent authority and separateness of being as the chief disqualifying characteristic used by the rabbis to exclude a view as heretical. Since Christianity did not describe Jesus as a separate creature or as having independent authority but merely as a hypostasis of the one, true God, it would appear that Christianity would not have actually qualified as a heresy. (For reference, here again are a few of the quotes discussing the rabbinic standards for heresy.)

Memra, yekara and shekhinah are used in the targumim and midrash in reference to the dangerous passages to denote the presence of God. But they are never clearly defined as independent creatures. It rather appears that rabbinic concepts of memra, shekhina, yekara avoid the implications of independent divinity and possibly are meant to combat them. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 182-183

What is dangerous, of course, is the notion that some principal angel could be said to usurp God’s independent power. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 137

Obviously then, it is not the tradition itself which defines the heresy but the treatment of the angelic figure or hypostasis as an independent deity. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 186-188

While the evidence abounds for the existence of dangerous scriptural traditions there is not much evidence that angelic or hypostatic creatures were considered independent enough to provide definite targets for the “two powers” polemic. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 200-201

Also of particular significance is Segal’s explanation that the rabbinic leaders had to “formulate orthodoxy” in response to the Complex Monotheism expressed by other Jewish sects. The formulation of new standards of orthodoxy required the development of exegetical justifications for the exclusion of Complex Monotheism. As Segal explains the exegetical basis for rejecting Complex Monotheistic beliefs had to be worked out by the rabbinic community during the second century AD. If exegetical grounds for rejecting Complex Monotheism already existed, the rabbinic authorities would not have needed to work them out in the academies, as we will see in the quote below. They would have simply pointed to existing standards of orthodoxy. The need to formulate an exegetical basis for the exclusion of Complex Monotheism demonstrates that Judaism did not know of any biblical grounds for prohibiting Complex Monotheism prior to 70-200 AD. Again, as Segal states below, the implementation of new definitions of orthodoxy, one which now excluded Complex Monotheism, was based on the new authority that the rabbis attained in the decades after 70 AD.

It seems clear, then, that the synagogue and academies in Palestine were the locus of the debate and defense against “two powers.” Exegesis was the earliest battleground of the conflict. Although the answers to the heretics were worked out by the academies, the question must have been raised in relation to Bible-reading and by groups who were interested in hearing the Jewish Bible expounded. Since we know that some “two powers” heretics were among those cursed in the synagogue, we can assume the following tentative reconstruction of the evidence: Either contemporary with the exegetical problem or immediately after it, a successful campaign was mounted to silence various sectarians in the synagogue by regulating the content and procedures of prayer. Among those silenced were some evincing “two powers” interpretations of scripture. The sectarians may not have called themselves “two gods” or “two powers” heretics. Only the offended party, from a new position of authority, described these doctrines as heresy. When the rabbis insisted that prayers in the synagogue meet specific standards of monotheism, the incipient heretics and the rabbis withdrew from each other by mutual consent but certainly on less than peaceful terms. Although they separated, the groups encountered each other in debate frequently, showing that the heretics continued to proliferate and that they remained in close proximity to the rabbinic community. Since the provenance of the debate was largely Palestine, when the center of Jewish life moved to Babylonia, the debated slackened. The heretics were entirely outside of the synagogue and probably were no longer in active conflict with the Jewish community. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 154

In his book, Segal also provides an early recorded example of the rabbinic rejection of Complex Monotheism. In the quote below Segal discusses the Talmudic account of Rabbi Idi’s interaction with a Complex Monotheist. Idi was a revered rabbinic leader of the Amoraic Period in the middle of the third century AD. He was a student of Joshua ben Levi and a teacher of Rabbi Nahman (or Nachman.)

Jacob b. Idi – R. Jacob b. Idi or Rabbi Ya'akov b. Idi or Jacob ben Idi or Jacob bar Idi or Ya'akov bar Idi…was a second generation Amora sage of the Land of Israel, and one of the most prominent sages of his generation. He was the pupil of Joshua ben Levi, and resided at Tyre, a city that was situated on a mountain in the Land of Israel. [2] The prominent sages Rav Nachman and Rav Zeira saw him in a special way, and whenever there were doubts concerning his studies they would send off a messenger to ask him about it, [2] and he would refer to him as "Master".[3] – wikipedia.org

Joshua ben Levi – Joshua ben Levi or Yehoshua ben Levi was an amora (Rabbi of the Talmud) who lived in the land of Israel of the first half of the third century. – wikipedia.org

Amoraim – …were renowned Jewish scholars who "said" or "told over" the teachings of the Oral law, from about 200 to 500 CE in Babylonia and the Land of Israel. Their legal discussions and debates were eventually codified in the Gemara. The Amoraim followed the Tannaim in the sequence of ancient Jewish scholars. – wikipedia.org

The Talmudic account has the Complex Monotheist using Exodus 24:1 as evidence that more than one person was identified as YHWH and who should be worshipped as YHWH. Below is the account of that interaction followed by our analysis of it. (We have highlighted the Complex Monotheist’s statements in red and Rabbi Idi’s statements in blue.) Note that in his analysis of this exchange, Segal states that the Complex Monotheist’s conclusion that two figures are present is supported by the language of the Masoretic Text.

Sanhedrin 38b: R. Nahman said: “He who is as skilled in refuting the Minim as is R. Idith [MS. M: R Idi] let him do so; but not otherwise. Once a Min said to R. Idi: ‘ It is written, And unto Moses He said: Come up to the Lord (Ex. 24:1). But surely it should have stated, Come up to me!’ – ‘It was Metatron,’ he replied, whose name is similar to that of his Master, for it is written, For My name is in Him. (Ex. 23:21). ‘But if so, we should worship him!’ ‘The same passages, however,’ replied R. Idi, ‘says: Be not rebellious against Him [i.e., exchange Me not for him.’] ‘But if so, why is it stated: He will not pardon your transgression?’ (Ex. 23:21). He answered: ‘By our truth [lit: we hold the belief] we would not accept him even as a messenger, for it is written. And he said unto him, If Thy presence go not etc.’ (Ex. 33:15).”…The demonstration of R. Idi’s competence is exceedingly interesting. Without naming the heresy, he describes a passage conducive to the “two powers” heresy (Ex. 24:1). In that scripture, God orders Moses and the elders to ascend up to the Lord. Since the text says, “Come up to YHWH” and not “Come up to me,” the heretic states that two deities are present. The tetragrammaton would then be the name of a second deity, a conclusion further supported by the lack of an explicit subject for the verb “said” in the Masoretic Text. The high god can refer to his helper as YHWH because the helper is the same figure of whom it is said, “My name is in him” (Ex. 23:20 f.). Obviously this is another case of heretics believing in a principal angel with divine perquisites because the Lord’s name is in him. Now we see how the name of YHWH was associated with the mediator. The language is Babylonian Aramaic so the text itself can only be dated to the third century with any surety. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 68-69

For the purpose of our study there are several points worth noting about Idi’s response.

First, note that both Idi and the Complex Monotheist (identified as a “min” in the text) acknowledge that Exodus 24 is discussing two, distinct figures. Second, note that both Idi and the Complex Monotheist agree that both figures are named YHWH. Third, notice that Idi identifies the figure that Moses “went up to” as the figure that Exodus 23:20-21 idenfies as the “angel” of YHWH who has the name YHWH.

Exodus 23:20 Behold, I send an Angel [mal’ak, 04397] before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared. 21 Beware of him, and obey his voice, provoke him not; for he will not pardon your transgressions: for my name is in him.

We have already seen that this angelic figure is prominently featured in pre-rabbinic literature. He is also called Metatron in post-biblical Jewish writings. Idi himself uses the term Metatron in this exchange.  

Fourth, and more importantly, the nature of the reply offered by this prominent Jewish rabbi in the middle of the third century is informative regarding the status of the exegetical response that had developed by that time. As Segal recounts, the Talmud presents Rabbi Idi’s response as an example of the great skill of the rabbinic refutation of Complex Monotheistic interpretations of certain passages in the Hebrew Bible. But, how competent or effective of a response is it?

As we have seen, Rabbi Idi agrees with the heretic that there are two separate figures and that the figure speaking to Moses is YHWH, the supreme God. Over the course of the exchange, the heretic offers several pieces of evidence from the text that the other figure (whom Moses was to “come up to” on the mount) is also a hypostasis of YHWH, rather than a separate or lesser being. This figure bears the name of YHWH. Moses and the elders are commanded to worship this figure. And this figure has the divine right to forgive sins.

In response to the first point, Rabbi Idi states that the second figure merely has a name that is “similar” to YHWH. But this counterpoint from Rabbi Idi is hardly conclusive. While the phrase “My name is in him” may be open for some debate, the opening of the verse is not in any way ambiguous when God commands Moses simply to “come up to YHWH.”

Exodus 24:1 And he (YHWH) said unto Moses, Come up unto YHWH, thou, and Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel; and worship (07812) ye afar off.

Here there is no equivocation that the name YHWH is applied to this second figure. The explicit indication from the text is that the name of this figure is YHWH, not a similar sounding or similarly spelled name. So while the heretic’s point is stated directly in the text, Rabbi Idi’s counterpoint that this figure merely has a similar-sounding or similarly spelled name remains a speculation that is not directly suggested by any part of the text.

Rabbi Idi’s response to the second point is even more perplexing. The heretic has attempted to support his belief that the second figure is also a hypostasis of YHWH by citing the fact that this figure was worshipped by Moses and the elders. Notice that the heretic’s argument is exegetical in nature. It is based on specific information at the end of chapter 24:1. Rabbi Idi’s counterpoint is to remind the heretic that Jews are forbidden to worship any other being than YHWH. We should note that YHWH’s command forbidding the Israelites to worship other gods is articulated by YHWH just 9 verses before Exodus 24:1 in Exodus 23:24. Obviously, as the Talmudic account shows, both Rabbi Idi and the Complex Monotheist were well aware of the proximity and connection between these verses. The word translated as “bow down” in Exodus 23:20 is the same word that is translated in Exodus 24:1 as “worship.” We can see then that though YHWH forbids worship of other gods besides himself (Exodus 20:5, Leviticus 26:1, Deuteronomy 5:9), YHWH commands Moses and the elders to worship the angel of YHWH.

Exodus 23:20 Behold, I send an Angel (04397) before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared. 21 Beware of him, and obey his voice, provoke him not; for he will not pardon your transgressions (06588): for my name is in him. 22 But if thou shalt indeed obey his voice, and do all that I speak; then I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries. 23 For mine Angel (04397) shall go before thee, and bring thee in unto the Amorites, and the Hittites, and the Perizzites, and the Canaanites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites: and I will cut them off. 24 Thou shalt not bow down (07812) to their gods, nor serve them, nor do after their works: but thou shalt utterly overthrow them, and quite break down their images. 25 And ye shall serve the LORD your God, and he shall bless thy bread, and thy water; and I will take sickness away from the midst of thee. 26 There shall nothing cast their young, nor be barren, in thy land: the number of thy days I will fulfil. 27 I will send my fear before thee, and will destroy all the people to whom thou shalt come, and I will make all thine enemies turn their backs unto thee. 28 And I will send hornets before thee, which shall drive out the Hivite, the Canaanite, and the Hittite, from before thee. 29 I will not drive them out from before thee in one year; lest the land become desolate, and the beast of the field multiply against thee. 30 By little and little I will drive them out from before thee, until thou be increased, and inherit the land. 31 And I will set thy bounds from the Red sea even unto the sea of the Philistines, and from the desert unto the river: for I will deliver the inhabitants of the land into your hand; and thou shalt drive them out before thee. 32 Thou shalt make no covenant with them, nor with their gods. 33 They shall not dwell in thy land, lest they make thee sin against me: for if thou serve their gods, it will surely be a snare unto thee. 24:1 And he said unto Moses, Come up unto the LORD, thou, and Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel; and worship (07812) ye afar off.

While Rabbi Idi’s response here is exegetical in the sense that it is based on textual information from the Hebrew bible, its application to this second figure seems out of place given the fact that it is God himself who identifies this second figure as YHWH and commands no less than Moses and the elders to worship this figure. Rabbi Idi’s response that only YHWH can be worshipped should actually bolster the heretic’s position that this second figure is a hypostasis of YHWH. In order for the heretic’s position to be a violation, Rabbi Idi’s conclusion (that the second figure is not YHWH and cannot be worshipped), must be presupposed in circular fashion. Moreover, Rabbi Idi’s conclusion that the second figure should not be worshipped because he is not YHWH is utterly unable to deal with the textual detail in which God himself commands Moses and the elders to worship this figure. While the heretic’s position is based on the text’s declaration that God commanded worship to this second figure, Rabbi Idi’s response that this figure cannot be worshipped because he is not YHWH seems nonsensical. Either Rabbi Idi is himself confused or he is deliberately trying to erect a straw man argument by insinuating that the heretic was advocating the worship of someone other than YHWH (despite the heretic’s own words to the contrary). In any case, Rabbi Idi’s second counterargument is once again hardly convincing.

Rabbi Idi’s third response is even less helpful. Rabbi Idi’s response is that “we should not accept him even as a messenger.” One interpretation of this would be that, according to Rabbi Idi, the rabbis believed that they should not even accept this second figure even as a messenger. If this is Rabbi Idi’s meaning it would be disproven immediately by the very passage itself (Exodus 23:30 and 23) in which YHWH himself has identified this figure as his angel. The Hebrew word translated as “angel” is “malakh” which means “messenger.”

04397 mal’ak
from an unused root meaning to despatch as a deputy; n m; {See TWOT on 1068 @@ "1068a"}
AV-angel 111, messenger 98, ambassadors 4, variant 1; 214
1) messenger, representative
1a) messenger
1b) angel
1c) the theophanic angel

After these first two responses, Rabbi Idi seems to be more effective at demonstrating his own disagreement with the Hebrew bible than the errors of the heretic. First, Rabbi Idi disapproved of worshipping a figure that YHWH himself commanded Moses and the elders of Israel to worship. Now, Rabbi Idi states that the rabbis wouldn’t accept this figure as messenger even though YHWH himself identified this person as his messenger (“angel”) to Israel (Exodus 23:23). So far, this is more of an example of rabbinic denials of Complex Monotheism than a skillful, exegetical refutation.

But there is another way to understand Rabbi Idi’s response. Segal rewords Rabbi Idi’s response as follows.

“Furthermore, the last polemical remark of the rabbi makes this implication clear. Were he only a messenger or agent—parvanka 31—he should not be received.” – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p.69.

Footnote 31 concerns the word “parvanka” and further clarifies Rabbi Idi’s meaning in response to this last point.

“31 The word “parvanka” is a loan word from Mandaean and ultimately from Persian where it meant a forerunner or messenger or the normal word for letter carrier. In Hebrew, it seems to be used in the sense of messenger (Heb. shaliah), used in respect to both prophecy and liturgy to describe a respresentative of the people or to the sovereign.” – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p.69.

Rabbi Idi offers a fourth textual detail that clarifies the meaning of the phrase “we would not accept him even as a messenger.” As we have suggested, this statement from Rabbi Idi seems to suggest that, in the rabbinic view, this second figure was not an angel but was greater than an angel. Right after this statement, the account goes on to say of Rabbi Idi, “And he said unto him, If They presence go not...” With this phrase, Rabbi Idi is attempting to bolster his comment about “not accepting” this second figure “as a messenger” by pointing to Exodus 33:14-15.

Exodus 33:14 And he said, My presence (06440) shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest. 15 And he said unto him, If thy presence (06440) go not with me, carry us not up hence.

In Exodus 33:14-15, God tells Moses, “My presence shall go with thee” and Moses responds by telling God, “If thy Presence go not with me, carry us not up hence.” In other words, Moses really wants to make sure that God would fulfill his promise that the Israelites would be accompanied by God’s “Presence” as they went into the Promised Land. For Rabbi Idi to cite this verse corroborates the conclusion that Rabbi Idi understands the second figure to be more than an angel. For Rabbi Idi, this second figure is the “Presence” of God.

In short, Rabbi Idi’s final response to the heretic’s insistence that the second figure is YHWH is apparently to admit that the second figure is more than an angel. According to Rabbi Idi, if this figure were a mere angel, then the Israelites could not accept him because no angel is to be called YHWH, worshipped, or ascribed the power to forgive sins. Consequently, the only reason the Israelites are allowed to receive this figure is because this figure is no mere angel. So, while Rabbi Idi previously argued that this figure could not be worshipped because he was not YHWH, here Rabbi Idi seems to be arguing that this figure can be received because he is not just an angel. If this is the case, then Rabbi Idi appears to be reversing the thrust of his second argument.

But Rabbi Idi’s citation of Exodus 33:14-15 does even more to undermine his position. In fact, by associating the second figure of Exodus 24 with the phrase “My Presence shall go with you” in Exodus 33:14-15, Rabbi Idi has actually provided further support for the heretic’s conclusion that this second figure is also a hypostasis of YHWH.

The word translated as “presence” in these two verses from Exodus 33 is the Hebrew word “panim” (Strong’s number 06440) meaning “face” or “presence.” As we have seen, in ancient Near Eastern theology and biblical texts, “panim” and “shem” (“name”) are both used to refer to God himself but in a way in which the “panim” can be somehow personal and distinct from God as well.

Just as the fragmentation of a divine self occurs in Northwest Semitic religions so too we can sense a tendency toward overlapping divine selves. Overlap among Canaanite deities becomes evident in the use of the terms (shem – “name”) and (panim – literally, “face,” and hence also “presence”) in Ugaritic, Phoenician, and Punic texts. In the Canaanite languages, these terms can refer to a person’s self – that is, the person’s essence or bodily presence. Explaining the significance of the term shem in Hebrew, S. Dean McBride describes what he calls the “nominal realism” prevalent in ancient Near Eastern thinking. Nominal realism is the belief in “a concrete, ontological relationship…between words and the things and actions which the words describe. A name is consubstantial with the thing named…[or] a physical extension of the name bearer, an attribute which when uttered evokes the bearer’s life, essence, and power.” 101 Much the same can be said of the term panim. It can simply mean “oneself,” because the face is the most identifiable part of a person. Yet when used in relation to a Canaanite deity, both panim and shem come to indicate an aspect of the divine self that is also distinct from the divine self. I refer not only to the tendency of these terms to refer to a particular form or representation of the divine self (a tendency evident in biblical texts discussed in subsequent chapters more than in Canaanite ones) but also to the use of these terms to refer to a second deity altogether. [Endnote 101: McBride, “Deuteronomic,” 67. Cf. Huffmon, “Name.” for Canaanite examples of (shem) meaning not only “name” but also “one bearing the name,” see Hoftijzer et al., Dictionary, 2:1167, def. 2. This unity of name and object named can also be seen in the frequent parallelism of “God” and “God’s name” in Hebrew poetry: (“Praise Yah! Praise, O servants of Yhwh – praise the name of Yhwh,” Psalm 113.1) (“O my soul, bless the name of Yhwh; all my body, bless His sacred name,” Psalm 103.1). – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 26

God’s name and God’s Glory in the Hebrew Bible – Priestly and deuteronomic traditions make distinctive use of two terms that refer to divine presence in various parts of the Hebrew Bible: (kabod, usually translated as “Glory”) appears often in the former, and (shem, or “name”) in the latter. To understand how these traditions take up these terms, it is necessary to review how other biblical texts use them. Outside the priestly and deuteronomic traditions these terms can refer to some type of divine manifestation or some attribute closely aligned with God’s self, but the exact nature of the connection between God and these manifestations or attributes is difficult to characterize. The term “name” in ancient Near Eastern cultures can refer to the essence of any thing and hence can be a cipher for the thing itself. Examples of the identity of God and God’s name in biblical literature abound. The synonymous parallelism of God and God’s name in many poetic texts attest to this identity…(Micah 5.3…Psalm 7.18…Psalm 145.21) Similarly, in Jeremiah 14.9 the presence of God in the people’s midst is equated with God’s shem…Yet shem or Name can also refer to a hypostasis, a quality or attribute of a particular being that becomes distinct from that being but never entirely independent of it. 6 In many texts, God’s shem embodies but does not exhaust God’s self, and it also maintains some degree of separate identity. Texts that use the term this way give witness to the fluidity of the divine selfhood so common in the ancient Near East. We noted in the previous chapter that Exodus 23.20-2 portrays God as sending an angel (mal’akh) to accompany the Israelites to their land. God tells Moses to obey the mal’akh, because “My shem is in it.” This mal’akh is the sort I discussed in the previous chapter – not quite a separate being but a small-scale manifestation of God. At times, the divine shem is sufficiently material to be the subject of its own verbs of motion. In Isaiah 30.27 it moves on its own: “The shem of Yhwh comes from afar, burning in anger, with a weighty load.” It is difficult to say whether “the Name of Yhwh” here means “the LORD Himself” or whether the poem distances God slightly from this angry theophany, implying that only part of God’s self will become manifest. 8 Significantly, God’s shem can manifest itself at more than one location. According to Exodus 20.24, the Israelites are to construct altars “in all the locations where I cause My shem to be mentioned.” Thus the notion of shem reflects the possibility of a fragmented divine self and its physical manifestation in multiple bodies. In short, shem functions outside deuteronomic and priestly texts both as a synonym for God and as a hypostasis or emanation of God that is not quite a separate deity. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 58-59

Both words “panim” and “shem” are used in Exodus 23 to refer to this angelic figure. In Exodus 23:20 Moses is told that the angel has the name YHWH in him. Likewise both verses 20 and 23 state that YHWH will send his angel before the Israelites as they entered the Promised Land. The word translated as “before” in verses 20 and 23 is “panim.” The content of Exodus 33:14-15 and Exodus 23:20 and 23 are very similar. Both passages are discussing an angelic figure who is the presence (“panim”) of YHWH, who has the name (“shem”) YHWH, and who would accompany Israel into the Promised Land.

Exodus 23:20 Behold, I send an Angel (04397) before (06440) thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared. 21 Beware of him, and obey his voice, provoke him not; for he will not pardon your transgressions (06588): for my name is in him. 22 But if thou shalt indeed obey his voice, and do all that I speak; then I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries. 23 For mine Angel (04397) shall go before (06440) thee, and bring thee in unto the Amorites, and the Hittites, and the Perizzites, and the Canaanites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites: and I will cut them off.

In short, by appealing to the phrase “My Presence shall go with thee” in Exodus 33:14-15, not only does Rabbi Idi confirm that for him this second figure is more than an angel, but he also confirms in ancient Near Eastern vernacular that this second figure is a hypostasis of YHWH.

Once again it is unclear how Rabbi Idi’s citation actually supports his rejection of the Complex Monotheist’s interpretation. The texts of Exodus 23 and 33 identify this angelic figure as YHWH and states that he is the “Presence” of YHWH. These details support the conclusion that the angelic figure is YHWH. And since the text attributes these to a second figure who is somehow YHWH and yet distinct from YHWH the passages seem to provide support for the Complex Monotheistic belief that YHWH exists as more than one person. The heretic has identified specific details from the text to support this conclusion. But Rabbi Idi has not offered any effective or coherent arguments against the implications of the textual details offered by the heretic.

At this point, it is by no means clear exactly how Rabbi Idi has refuted the textual evidence brought forward by the heretic. In fact, the more proofs that the heretic brings forward, the more Rabbi Idi seems to lapse into confusion over the nature of the debate, as evidenced by the fact that Rabbi Idi’s second argument misses the central point of the debate and particularly by the contradiction between Rabbi Idi’s second and third arguments. Ultimately, none of Rabbi Idi’s responses seem convincing but instead Rabbi Idi’s counterarguments appear to be based, not on textual information, but on personal speculation and on confusing the issue.

Furthermore, this Talmudic account certainly depicts Rabbi Idi as articulating what the rabbinic position was at that time. However, Rabbi Idi provides no compelling scriptural argument against worshipping this angelic figure as YHWH or against the conclusion that these passages in Exodus are describing two, distinct figures that are both identified as YHWH God. If Rabbi Idi’s arguments exhibit the status and quality of the rabbinic response to Complex Monotheistic interpretations of the Hebrew Bible, then we would have to conclude that by the middle of the third century AD, the rabbis still did not have an effective exegetical response to Complex Monotheism. (The application of this assessment to the rabbinic community as a whole is supported by Rabbi Idi’s own testimony in the passage that he is expressing the views of his sect, not just his individual perceptions.) Indeed, the Talmudic account shows that leading rabbinic figures may not even have grasped the exegetical issues offered by the Complex Monotheist.

Even more significant is the fact that at no time in the exchange does Rabbi Idi correct the Complex Monotheist with an appeal to Deuteronomy 6:4, also known as “the shema.” It certainly would have been useful and relevant to the issue at hand for Rabbi Idi to respond with this passage. But He doesn’t. There is no mention of “the shema” at all, let alone the claim that “the shema” dictates that YHWH is only one person. This indicates that even in the middle of the third century AD, Deuteronomy 6:4 was not used or considered relevant to the question of the plurality of YHWH’s personhood.

Our point in examining this Talmudic account was not to agree with the arguments or positions offered by one side or the other or even where both agree. (Nor is the “heretic” in the text identified explicitly as a Christian.) The Christian understanding of Complex Monotheism and exegeses of relevant passages in the Hebrew Bible may not always parallel examples of pre-rabbinic and early-rabbinic Jewish perspectives in exact detail. Yet, what we see in this account is important for several reasons. First, it provides another example of the types of Complex Monotheistic interpretations and related conversations that were still taking place within and around the greater third century synagogue community. Though Rabbi Idi is confidently asserting an official rabbinic rejection of Complex Monotheistic beliefs, his responses do not seem particularly suited for refuting the kinds of biblical details and arguments cited by Complex Monotheists in support of their beliefs.

Second, Rabbi Idi’s remarks give us insight into the basic stage of development of the rabbinic scriptural response as it existed in the middle of the third century AD. The Talmud describes Rabbi Idi’s approach as a skillful refutation of Complex Monotheistic interpretations. However, Rabbi Idi does not appeal to “the shema” to disprove his opponent. Either Idi did not consider Deuteronomy 6:4 to be relevant or he felt its meaning was unsettled or he was entirely unaware of arguments involving the “shema.” Moreover, Rabbi Idi’s arguments don’t seem to address or possibly even grasp the conceptual or exegetical issues that are motivating his opponent’s considerations. If this account represents a skillful and capable, third-century rabbinic response to Complex Monotheism then it seems that even by the middle of the third century AD, the rabbis were still developing the parameters of their scriptural arguments. Over two centuries after Jesus and over 150 years or more after the last of the New Testament books were penned, leading rabbinic figures like Rabbi Idi seem to have not yet established or arrived at some of the more common positions and approaches that are exhibited in rabbinic responses to similar exegetical questions today.

On this point, it is important to recall that according to Segal, the exclusion of Complex Monotheists was “underway by the time of the Mishnah’s codification” around 200 AD and may have been initiated as early as the time of Gamaliel about 80-115 AD.

The standard, rabbinic modes of expulsion do not seem to have been formalized in the first and second centuries. At least, we do not have good evidence to suppose their use against the minim. However, the process of exclusion was certainly underway by the time of the Mishnah’s codification (200 C.E.) for the Mishnah prohibits the leader of the service from saying certain benedictions associated with the minim. Since the instrument of expulsion is liturgical in this case, perhaps we may trace the process back to the Yavnean community where Gamaliel (about 80-115) ordered Samuel the Small to compose a “benediction” against the minim…Therefore we are dealing with a definition of the limits of Judaism which developed over the time and which may not have reached uniform practice until the very end of the second century. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 4-6

The mishnaic evidence emphasizes the second thrust of the rabbinic offensive against the heresy – ostracism from the synagogue. It is likely that the “two powers” sects were among the heretical groups excluded from the synagogue during earliest times, but it is not easy to characterize or date the entire battle. The process of ostracism probably received its first impetus from Gamaliel – who expanded the curse against enemies of the synagogue in the liturgy to include the minim. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 152

Since Rabbi Idi’s arguments suggest the status of rabbinic arguments in the middle of the third century AD, this would mean that the rabbis were exclusing Complex Monotheism for at least 125-200 years without exegetical justification.

Other Talmudic examples of the rabbinic refutation of Complex Monotheistic interpretations of the Hebrew Bible are similar to the account with Rabbi Idi. We are given competent attestations of the rabbinic rejection of Complex Monotheism. But exegetical refutation is not so competent. For instance, another Talmudic example mentioned by Segal details a story of four rabbis on their way to paradise. One of the rabbis, called Aher (meaning “other,”) sees Metatron and draws Complex Monotheistic conclusions.

The relationship between Aher’s apostasy and “two powers in heaven” is based on a long passage in the Babylonian Talmud (Hag. 14b) which concerns four rabbis’ mystical journey to paradise…In this passage, four sages – Akiba, Simeon b. Zoma, Simeon b. Azai and Aher – are credited with an ascension to Paradise (the pardes) while yet alive; only Akiba is reported to have survived the journey unharmed…Having successfully avoided the dangers of the voyage, Aher arrives at the Pardes and sees the angel Metatron enthroned in heaven. Astounded, Aher asks whether there are “two powers in heaven” and becomes a heretic when he returns to earth. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 9-10

The rabbis themselves associated “two powers in heaven” with Aher, who had travelled to heaven and seen the angel Metatron in a posture that suggested two powers. – Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven, p. 23-24

There are at least two points worth noting from this Talmudic story about Aher and Metatron. First, Metatron is the very same title that Rabbi Idi uses to identify the angel of YHWH figure in Exodus 23-24. As we have seen, in Exodus 24:1 Moses and the elders of Israel are commanded by God to worship this figure whom Exodus 23:21 tell us has the name YHWH. Since Rabbi Idi identifies the figure of Exodus 23-24 as Metatron perhaps Aher is right to conclude that this is a second person of YHWH. Of course, if Aher concluded that the angel of YHWH (Metatron) figure was a separate being from YHWH with independent power then this would be heretical by both Christian and rabbinic standards. However, the Talmudic account merely identifies Aher’s conclusions with the general term “two powers in heaven.” As we have seen, this term is used at times in Talmudic literature to include a variety of groups with differing points of view. In fact, as Segal has stated, some of those to whom this term was applied did not believe there were two separate gods with independent authority but instead merely believed in only one divine being (YHWH) who existed as multiple hypostases or persons. It is not clear which camp Aher is in. But certainly, if Aher had Exodus 24 in mind (particular God’s own declaration that Metatron is YHWH and should be worshipped), his conclusion may seem to be more understandable.

Second and more importantly, whatever we might make of it, we must remember that this Talmudic story about Aher and Metatron is purely fictional. Aher is simply used to convey the rabbinic condemnation and rejection of Complex Monotheistic beliefs as erroneous and false. It is a clear presentation of the fact that rabbis rejected Complex Monotheism by the third century AD. However, no exegetical discussion or examination is provided. The arguments and condemnation of Aher and his conclusions are based on the fictional details of this hypothetical story. Surely, this is not compelling biblical justification for the rejection of Complex Monotheism. Anyone can make up a fictional story in which their opponents are shown to be in error based on the framing of the fable. Such stories only effectively attest to the viewpoint of the storyteller. They have no bearing on the legitimacy of the beliefs from a biblical perspective or for that matter from the perspective of Judaism before the story itself was contrived.

As Segal and Sommer have already established, demonstrating that the rabbis rejected Complex Monotheism in the third century AD doesn’t prove anything about what their Jewish predecessors in the Biblical Period or pre-rabbinic era believed. Showing that third century rabbis taught something is not equivalent to showing that the Hebrew Bible itself teaches it.

When we search the historical documentation of the pre-rabbinic and early rabbinic periods we find much evidence of scripturally-derived Complex Monotheism even from the earliest periods of Judaism. When we search for rejections of Complex Monotheism we find rabbinic attestations from the third century AD which obscure the details, lump diverse groups together, and present little or no exegetical explanation or justification.

By this point, a clear picture of the historical developments has emerged from the available documentary evidence. We can see that the period between 135 and 200 AD was critical to the rabbinic exclusion of Complex Monotheism from Judaism. Early steps towards this goal were begun after 80 AD under the leadership of Gamaliel II at Yavneh. However, the real work began when the Bar Kokhba revolt failed. Prior to 135 AD, even rabbinic authorities like Rabbi Akiba and Rabbi Yosi still articulated beliefs and interpretations that were correspondent to Complex Monotheism. In 200 AD, the rabbinic traditions were written down, collected, and edited in the Talmud. By that point, a recently emerging rabbinic authority had succeeded in the creation of new definitions or orthodoxy and heresy. The result was the rejection of a longstanding Jewish belief in Complex Monotheism that dated back to the earliest Biblical periods and the Jewish patriarchs. In its place, Simple Monotheism was formulated and instituted as the only acceptable, orthodox position. Further efforts were still needed to develop exegetical justification for the rejection of Complex Monotheism and the expulsion of Complex Monotheists. Historical evidence shows that exegetical grounds for this rejection were noticeably underdeveloped even by the middle of the third century AD when Talmudic accounts of the most skillful refutation of Complex Monotheism lack exegetical substance. Centuries later these significant, second-century and third-century theological alterations were reinforced by additional developments in medieval Jewish philosophy.

In the medieval period, long after the biblical period and the early rabbinic era, Jewish philosophers continued the work begun by second-century rabbis in rejecting Complex Monotheistic beliefs. In the case of the medieval philosophers, the rejection of the multiplicity of God’s personhood was accompanied by a rejection of God’s corporeality. Furthermore, the motivation behind medieval formulations of Jewish belief is overtly traceable to a regard for Platonic philosophy. In the quotes below Sommer explains the role medieval Jewish philosophers played in the Jewish rejection of God’s fluidity of personhood (Complex Monotheism) and his corporeality.

“Hebrew literature, The period of retrenchment, 1200–1750, Hebrew culture in western Europe – The appearance in 1200 of the Hebrew version, translated from Arabic, of Moses Maimonides’ Moreh Nevukhim (1851–85; The Guide of the Perplexed), which applied Neoplatonic and Aristotelian philosophy to biblical and rabbinic theology, provoked orthodox circles into opposition to all secular studies. As a result of Maimonides’ work, there was a return to Neoplatonist mysticism in a form known as Kabbala. - Britannica.com

“biblical literature…The development of biblical exegesis and hermeneutics in Judaism – …Sa’adia ben Joseph (882–942), who was the gaon, or head, of the Sura academy in Babylonia…” – britannica.com

“Sa’adia ben Joseph – (born 882, Dilaz, in al-Fayyūm, Egypt—died September 942, Sura, Babylonia), Jewish exegete, philosopher, and polemicist whose influence on Jewish literary and communal activities made him one of the most important Jewish scholars of his time…The years that followed turned out to be the brightest in Sa’adia’s literary career. During these years he composed his major philosophical work, Kitāb al-amānāt wa al-itiqādāt. The objective of this work was the harmonization of revelation and reason. In structure and content it displays a definite influence of Greek philosophy and of the theology of the Mu’tazilī, the rationalist sect of Islām.” – britannica.com

My first goal is to describe a hitherto unnoticed debate within the Hebrew Bible about God’s nature. In doing so, I hope to uncover a lost biblical perception of God, according to which God’s body and self have a mysterious fluidity and multiplicity (Chapter 2)…We see later that the theological intuition uncovered in Chapter 2 does not disappear completely in later forms of Judaism or, for that matter, in Christianity. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 10-11

The fluidity traditions furthermore emphasize the radical difference between God as person on the one hand and humanity on the other…Postrabbinic teachings according to which God has no body also stress the difference between God and humanity, but those teachings achieve this differentiation at the cost of the personal God... The most extreme antifluidity positions are those of the philosophers, especially Saadia and Maimonides, who insists that monotheism is incompatible with a belief in divine embodiment, as Moseh Halbertal and Avishai Margalit point out: “For Maimonides the belief in the oneness of God meant not merely denial of polytheism, which is obvious, but, more important, denial of the perception of God himself as a complex being. The description of God as one according to Maimonides refers mainly to his own “simple unity.” “Multiplicity” is therefore not only the belief in many gods, it is also an error that concerns God himself, which may be called “internal polytheism.” The strict demand on unity implies a rejection of corporeality, which assumes that God is divisible like any other body.” 79 It follows that the fluidity model may preserve God’s uniqueness and transcendence no less than the philosophical theology of Maimonides. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 141-142

Endnote 79: Halbertal and Margalit, Idolatry, 110. See also the similar point of Harvey, “Question,” 63-9. Of course, Miamonides’ position would entail either a radical misreading of most rabbinic literature or the frank admission that the rabbis and medieval authorities were not monotheists, as noted already by Abraham of Posquieres (in his glosses on Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, Sefer Hammadda’, Hilkhot Teshuvah, 3-7), on which see Harvey, 69-74. An even stronger Jewish critique of this aspect of Mainomides’ system appears in Wyschogrod, Body, xiv-xv, who rejects Maimonides’ thought in this regard as simply non-Jewish. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 258-259

In the next quote, Sommer corrects the philosophical tendency evident in Platonic Greek thought to deny the corporeality of God. Here Sommer shows that attempts to support an anti-anthropomorphic view of God in the bible require making assumptions beyond or contrary to what the biblical texts themselves are saying.

Philosophically minded commentators have used verses from these chapters to import an anti-anthropomorphic understanding of God into the Book of Deuteronomy, especially the phrasing of 4.15-16, which were quoted in the preceding paragraph. Consequently, it is crucial to note that neither these nor any other verses in Deuteronomy claim that God is invisible or lacks a body. 34 Rather these verses state that God’s body cannot be seen by humans because the latter are on earth while God’s body is in heaven. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 64

In the quote below Sommer again confirms that the tendency to deny the corporeality of the biblical God is the result of Platonic philosophy influencing Jewish and Christian theology.

Endnote 72: See helpful review in Westerman, Genesis 1-11, 148-55. Christian interpreters, under the influence of Platonism, began relatively early to develop a notion of an incorporeal God and hence read the verses as metaphorical or figural…Jewish interpreters other than Philo moved in this direction only much later, starting especially with the philosophical work of Saadia. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 225

As Sommer explains, within Judaism the filtering of Jewish theology through Platonic thought began with Saadia Gaon between 882-942 AD. Of course, as we have already seen, Maimonides followed in Saadia’s footsteps as he formulated a Jewish conception of God within the confines of Platonic philosophy.

Saadia Gaon – Saʻadiah ben Yosef Gaon…b. Egypt 882/892, d. Baghdad 942, was a prominent rabbi, Jewish philosopher, and exegete of the Geonic period. – wikipedia.org

Below Sommer provides further discussion of the attempt of medieval Jewish philosophers like Maimonides to deny the corporeality of the biblical God as it is depicted by biblical authors like Ezekiel.

Endnote 85: Maimonides, Guide, I:64 (pp. 156-7); cf. also his statement while discussing Ezekiel 1.28 in III:7 (p. 430) that “the glory of the Lord is not the Lord” but rather a created thing. On the created nature of any spatial attribute or perception of God, see also I:25 (p. 55). – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 227

As we have seen biblical texts like Ezekiel use the Hebrew term “kabod” to describe God’s body. Likewise, earlier we read quotes from Sommer which explained that the rabbis used the Hebrew term “shekhinah” interchangeably with the word “kabod.” As Sommer continues he explains that, unlike their biblical and rabbinic predecessors, later medieval Jewish philosophers began to view the “kabod” and “shekhinah” as a created being that was separate from God.

Endnote 8: On the relationship between the terms, see further Goldberg, Untersuchungen, 468-70, who points out that the rabbis use shekhinah in place of kabod only when the latter term is used in the sense of the Godhead that has entered the sanctuary or that reveals itself – that is, in the concrete sense that the term has in priestly texts in the Hebrew Bible. The identification of the rabbinic shekhinah with the biblical kabod is already suggested by medieval Jewish philosophers who, however, regarded it as a created being separate from God. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 252

In the quote below, Sommer explains that it was a clear contradiction of plain biblical teaching for Platonically-minded, Jewish philosophers to identify the “shekhinah” and “kabod” as created beings who are separate from God.

In spite of the foregoing discussion, one might raise another sort of objection to my assertion that priestly literature regards the kabod as the actual body of God. “Yes, the kabod in priestly literature has a shape, but the kabod may not be God’s body. Rather, it may be a divine attribute or an accompaniment to divine revelation, as it is in other biblical texts…” Claims resembling this objection appear already among Jewish thinkers from late antiquity and the Middle Ages who insist on a distinction between God and the kabod. The latter, according to some medieval philosophers, is an object that God created in time, similar to the Torah or the earth or the stars or majestic mountains, all of which, in their own ways, cause the humans who perceive them to honor God. Maimonides, for example, speaks of the kabod in texts like Exodus 24.16 and 40.34 (both of them priestly texts according to modern biblical scholars) as “the created light that god causes to descend in a particular place in order to confer honor upon it in a miraculous way.” 85 An analogous line of reasoning occurs among some of the more intensely neo-Platonic Jewish mystics; for example, those ancient Jewish mystics who regard the divine body as belonging to a demiurge rather than being identical with the Godhead Itself. Similarly, some of the Medieval kabbalists distinguish ontologically between the…and the created attributes of God found in the sephirot. This objection – that the kabod may not be God’s body – does not stand up under scrutiny, because both the priestly authors and the prophet Ezekiel assert the identity of the kabod and God quite explicitly. In chapter 1 of his book, Ezekiel describes several heavenly creatures who were located (he tells us) underneath the kabod during the prophetic experience he underwent on the banks of the Chebar Canal in Mesopotamia. Later in his book, Ezekiel refers to one of these heavenly creatures as “the creature I saw under the God of Israel on the Chebar Canal” (10.20). This phrasing shows that “God” and “Yhwh’s kabod” are interchangeable terms for Ezekiel. Similarly, the identity between the kabod and God becomes clear in priestly texts that narrate the arrival of the kabod on earth in the Books of Exodus and Leviticus. According to this narrative, which has been analyzed with particular acuity by Baruch Schwartz, the kabod arrives at Mount Sinai (Exodus 19.1-2, 24.15b), whereupon “The cloud covered the mountain, and then Yhwh’s kabod dwelt on the mountain, and the cloud covered it for six days. One the seventh day, He/It called to Moses from within the cloud.” (Exodus 24.15-16) The phrasing is telling. It entails the identity of the kabod and Yhwh, for these verses make clear that the kabod was located within the cloud, and it was from within the cloud that God spoke to Moses. After called called to him, P informs us, “Moses entered the cloud, and Yhwh spoke with him as follows…” (Exodus 24.18a, 25.1). (In both 24.16 and 25.1, God speaks to Moses, but in the latter the words “from within the cloud” do not appear, because by that time Moses was together with God/the kabod inside the cloud.) While inside the cloud, Moses received instructions to build the tabernacle (Exodus 25.2-31.18). He went back down imparted these instructions; during the next year, the people constructed the tabernacle, while so far as one can tell, the kabod remained atop the mountain (Exodus 25.1-40.33). Once the tabernacle was complete, the kabod descended further:…(Exodus 40.33b-38, Leviticus 1.1) In the last verse of Exodus, the kabod entered the tent; and in the immediately following verse (that is, the first verse of Leviticus, which continues the narrative without interruption), Yhwh called to Moses from within the tent. Here again, the text makes the identity of the kabod and God clear, as it does in the verses that narrate how God accepted the first sacrifices one week later: “Yhwh’s kabod manifested itself to the whole people, and a fire from where Yhwh was went out and consumed what was on the alter…and the whole people saw, and they shouted and fell on their faces (Leviticus 9.23-4). For the kabod to manifest itself entails a fire coming forth from the location in which Yhwh rested, in the holy of holies, beyond the altar. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 72-74

In the next quote Sommer states that the medieval attempts to distinguish between God and the “shekhinah” are unnecessary. He explains that earlier Jewish writing conceptualized God in accordance with Complex Monotheism that was also exhibited in the ancient Near Eastern fluidity traditions.

Endnote 22: Already medieval Jewish philosophers debate whether the shekhinah is identical with God or a created being; see Urbach, Sages, 40-1 (for a similar debate in kabbalistic circles, see Idel, Kabbalah, 141-4). To some degree, the debate becomes moot when one contextualizes the rabbinic portrayals of the shekhinah in the ancient Near Eastern fluidity traditions, in which a deity can have manifestations that are in some way separate but do not impugn the deity’s unity. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 254

Below Sommer explains that the medieval conception of an incorporeal God requires “an extraordinarily strained” interpretation of the Hebrew Bible. He further states that the medieval, Jewish conception of God is so different from pre-rabbinic and early-rabbinic Judaism that it requires rejecting both Biblical and Rabbinic Judaism.

The Maimonidean, of course, still has the right to reject Christianity’s theological model; but many a modern Jew recognizes the extraordinarily strained nature of the hermeneutic through which Maimonides attempts to deny the corporeality of the biblical and rabbinic God. For such a Jew, Maimonides’ rejection would also compel a rejection of most of the Written and Oral Torahs. It would entail, in other words, the creation of a new religion whose earliest sacred document would be found in the tenth-century C.E. philosophical writings of Maimonides’ predecessor, Saadia Gaon. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 136

Moreover, Sommer clarifies that Maimonides’ conception of God is so different from earlier Jewish views that it would require the conclusion that most rabbinic writings were not even monotheists. Such a rejection is required when we employ the conventional definition of monotheism without incorporating the additional conceptual dimension of plurality or non-plurality of personhood. Using these conventional definitions developed by medieval Jewish-Platonic philosophy allows one to label Christianity as non-monotheistic. But, as Sommer points out, it also requires that most of the rabbinic and earlier medieval Jewish authorities were not monotheists either.

Endnote 79: Halbertal and Margalit, Idolatry, 110. See also the similar point of Harvey, “Question,” 63-9. Of course, Miamonides’ position would entail either a radical misreading of most rabbinic literature or the frank admission that the rabbis and medieval authorities were not monotheists, as noted already by Abraham of Posquieres (in his glosses on Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, Sefer Hammadda’, Hilkhot Teshuvah, 3-7), on which see Harvey, 69-74. An even stronger Jewish critique of this aspect of Mainomides’ system appears in Wyschogrod, Body, xiv-xv, who rejects Maimonides’ thought in this regard as simply non-Jewish. – Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, p. 258-259

A historical look at the developments which led to the theological partition between Christianity and Judaism indicates that this separation was the result of rabbinical figures exerting doctrinal control over the synagogue communities beginning in the decades after 70 AD. By this point, the Jewish sect of Christianity had been well-established for four decades or more. Furthermore, all of the New Testament books were written except perhaps for John’s contributions.

According Segal and Sommer, the early attempts to exclude Complex Monotheistic beliefs from the rabbinic community were not very developed or established even by the middle of the second century AD. Leading rabbinic figures at that time still articulated Complex Monotheistic interpretations of biblical texts. Likewise, early post-canonical Christian writers like Justin Martyr, Theophilus, and Irenaeus also provide valuable insight into the close relationship and overlap that was still occurring between the existing doctrinal traditions of Judaism and Christianity even during the middle of the second-century AD. Only after the time of Rabbi Akiba’s death, did rabbinic authorities take decisive steps to prohibit Complex Monotheism within Judaism and to establish Simple Monotheism in its place.

In the first and second centuries AD, New Testament Christianity was one of many sects exhibiting the commonly-held beliefs of Judaism. These beliefs included: 1. that God was corporeal, 2. that God existed as a plurality of persons, and 3. that one of those hypostatic persons became a man. The uniqueness of New Testament teaching was only in its combining these Jewish beliefs and identifying them with Jesus.

While evidence of Complex Monotheism is replete in the historical and scriptural record of Judaism, adherence to Simple Monotheism is found first and foremost in rabbinic literature (although not necessarily in the earliest period of the rabbinic sect). However, the views expressed in rabbinic literature cannot responsibly or legitimately be projected backward onto Judaism prior to the close of the second-century AD. We simply don’t know that much about the rabbinic sect’s response to these issues until we approach the second century AD. Prior to the second century, most of what we know about Judaism comes from the works of other Jewish sects such as apocalyptists, mystics, Philo, and especially the Christians. These groups share something that rabbis came to reject a century or more later. Furthermore, it is only at around the time of the redaction of the Talmud (200 AD) that we can assert with confidence that the surviving, non-Christian Judaism, firmly under the sway of the rabbinic sect, rejected a belief in the multiplicity of God’s selfhood. The corresponding rejection of God’s corporeality was solidified only later in the medieval period through the work of Jewish, Platonic philosophers like Maimonides who favored Greek philosophy’s insistence that God was both incorporeal and an absolute, indivisible oneness devoid of multiplicity. Modern Judaism owes its theological distinction from New Testament Christianity to late second-century rabbis and medieval, Platonic philosophers and not to the Hebrew Bible or Jewish traditions prior to the second-century AD.