Many of the mediaeval Jewish teachers, partly in defence of the Talmud against the attacks of the Karaites, partly because of their own rationalistic stance, engaged in what Marc Saperstein, in a fine study, has called ‘decoding the Rabbis’. That is to say, passages, especially in the Talmudic Aggadah, which seemed to them offensive to reason and general religious sensibilities, these teachers interpreted in the light of their own philosophical views, treating the Aggadah as if it were in a code requiring to be deciphered. Whether or not the ancient Rabbis could really have intended to say what these thinkers understood them to have said, whether the Rabbinic literature does ever partake of a code, is, of course, quite another matter. Rabbinic thought, whatever else it is, is hardly in the philosophical and systematic vein.
This kind of allegorical interpretation of the Aggadah is found among the Geonim, in Maimonides and even, on occasion, in Rashi. It is not generally appreciated, however, that Menahem Meiri of Perpignan (1249-1316) employs the allegorical method throughout his voluminous Commentaries to the Talmud as this article purports to demonstrate. (The page references in this essay are not to the page numbers in the various editions of Meiri’s Bet Ha-Behirah but to the pages of the Talmud on which Meiri comments).
Meiri, without stating this explicitly, usually allows the student to see for himself that the interpretation is intended to avoid attributing to the Talmudic Rabbis perverse or ridiculous notions.The following are illustrations of Meiri’s methodology arranged under a number of headings not to be taken too categorically since there is considerable overlapping and do not appear in Meiri’s work.
On the statement (Bava Batra 25a) that the Shekhinah is in the West, Meiri remarks that this in no ways implies that God has any spatial location (‘Heaven forbid’, Meiri adds) but only to indicate that it is preferable not to face East in prayer in order to protest against worshippers of the sun which rises in the east. Nowadays, we do face East in our prayers but that, says Meiri, is in order to pray in the direction of Jerusalem. On the passage (Berakhot 6a) that the Shekhinah is present when ten assemble in the synagogue for prayer, Meiri interprets it psychologically: ‘Whenever a man is able to pray in the synagogue he should do so for there proper concentration of the heart is found. They [the Rabbis] have laid down a great principle that communal prayer is desirable and that those who pray where there is an assembly of ten in the synagogue the Shekhinah is with them’; meaning, presumably, that the ability to concentrate adequately on the meaning of prayers is in itself the Presence of the Shekhinah. In the same passage it is stated that where three judges sit together the Shekhinah is with them and if two scholars study the Torah together, rather than study on their own, their words are recorded in the ‘book of remembrance’ (Malachi 3: 16). Evidently in order to avoid ascribing any spatial location to the Shekhinah and the notion that there is a book ‘up there’, Meiri remarks: ‘Let a man take care not to judge a case on his own even where this is allowed and he should always be one of three judges. For wherever there are three, two of them will argue it out while the third will clarify the matter and weigh it up. In this way they will avoid mistakes and it will be said of them that the Shekhinah is with them. And so, too, with regard to the study of the Torah. Even though this is desirable and praiseworthy wherever it occurs, if there are two it is far better for as a result there will be a greater clarification of the truth. Furthermore, since each one debates the topic with the other the subjects are more firmly fixed in their memory. This is what the author of the saying meant when he said that where two are present their words are recorded in the book of remembrance’.
Meiri similarly understands the passage (Berakhot 6b) that when God comes to the synagogue and finds that ten persons are not assembled there for payer, He is angry: ‘Let the members of the community be energetic in arriving in the synagogue as soon as the time of prayer begins. For when the time for prayer has arrived and the quorum for prayer is not present in the synagogue it is very disgraceful, showing that the hearts of people in that city are distant from God and this distance constitutes the greatest anger and the worst kind of wrath. This is what they [the Rabbis] intended when they said that God is immediately angry’. It should be noted that the passage speaks of God being angry when He comes to the synagogue and does not find a quorum there. Meiri is evidently not only bothered by the anthropomorphic expression that God is immediately angry but also to the idea of God coming to the synagogue indicating a spatial location. Meiri understands this to mean that when the time of prayer has ‘come’ there is the opportunity for the congregation to come near to God. Their coming to God is His coming to them.
Meiri is obviously bothered by the Talmudic passage (Berakhot 32b) in which God is made to say to Moses: ‘With your words you have given Me life’. Meiri comments on this in his Introduction to his Commentary to tractate Avot that the meaning is, through Moses’ words by which God’s existence was shown to be necessary not contingent. God became alive for them.
A particularly interesting interpretation of Meiri is to the passage (Shabbat 12b) in which it is said that, except when praying for a sick person, prayers should not be recited in Aramaic because the ministering angels, who have to bring the prayers to God, do not understand Aramaic. A sick person is in a different category since the Shekhinah is already with him i.e. and he does not require the angels to bring his prayers Heavenwards. Meiri combines this with the passage (Berakhot 6a) which states that the Shekhinah is present when prayers are offered in the synagogue. Meiri writes: ‘Let not a man ever supplicate for his needs in Aramaic since, this language not being fluent in the mouths of creatures, there will not be sufficient intention in his prayers for them to be acceptable. Nevertheless, since with regard to a sick person there is a greater degree of intention, there is nothing to fear. And so do the Geonim write with regard to communal prayer that the prayers can be recited in any language because the Shekhinah is with them, namely, that greater inwardness is present’. Meiri here appears to read the statement about the ministering angels as if it were ironic. This language is so obscure that even the ministering angels do not understand it still less ordinary mortals and he thus neatly avoids the notion that God needs the angels to bring their prayers to Him. Once again the reference to the Shekhinah being present is understood by Meiri to mean that greater inwardness is present. The close intention of the sick person in his prayers for health constitutes in itself the Presence of the Shekhinah and the absence of proper intention by other people when they pray in a foreign language constitutes in itself the remoteness of the worshippers from God.
In his Commentary to the verse in Proverbs: ‘The simpleton believes everything’ (Proverbs 14: 15) Meiri observes that the question whether demons really exist is a matter for investigation not of faith. There is no categorical denial that demons exist yet throughout his Commentaries, Meiri understands Talmudic references to demons in a non-literal fashion. In his Commentary to the statement in tractate Avot (5: 8) that, according to one opinion, the mazikim (‘the harmful ones’, usually taken to mean ‘the demons’) were created on the eve of the first Sabbath at twilight, Meiri paraphrases mazikim as ‘things that are not found in normal nature’ and he puts forward a further idea that the term mazikim refers to the evil inclination, which, while undoubtedly harmful, is yet of benefit in that it provides human beings with life’s driving force and is hence a ‘twilight’ thing, belonging and yet not belonging to the beneficent side of creation. The statement in Eruvin 43a regarding the vast distances covered on the Sabbath by one Joseph the Demon seems to be understood by Meiri as a dare-devil acrobat who can ‘fly’ in the air over great distances but who does not keep the Sabbath. On the statement in Berakhot 3a that one of the reasons it is forbidden to enter a ruin is because of mazikin, Meiri paraphrases this as ‘anything there that may cause harm’. In his comment to Berakhot 4b regarding reciting the Shema before retiring to sleep, Meiri refers to the statement in the Jerusalem Talmud (Berakhot 1: 1, 2d) that the purpose of the recital is to ‘drive away the mazikim.’ Meiri notes that the definite article is used – ha-mazikin, ‘the harmful ones’, which, he says, refers to the ‘known harmful ones’ that is, thoughts of unbelief which invade the mind when a man is on his bed at night and against which the recital of the Shema is the antidote, and this is why, he continues, the Talmud exempts a scholar from the recital since he is immune, in any event, to heretical or idolatrous thoughts.
A well-known Halakhic passage (Bava Kama 21a), dealing with the question whether a squatter has to pay rent, proved embarrassing to Meiri since the law seems to be bases on a belief in demons. Rab is reported here as saying that one who occupies a neighbour’s premisses without having any agreement with him is under no obligation to pay him rent since Scripture (Isaiah 24: 12) says: ‘Through Sheiyyah even the gate gets smitten’. The usual translation of Sheiyyah is ‘emptiness’ or ‘desolation’. But the Talmud appears to understand it as the name of a demon i.e. the squatter benefits the owner of the premisses since he keeps away the demon, Sheiyyah, who haunts empty houses. The Talmud adds that Mar son of Rav Ashi said: ‘I myself have seen him and he was like a goring ox’. Meiri simply says that the squatter benefits the owner since an empty house becomes desolate because no one is there to take care of it, interpreting Sheiyyah as ‘desolation’, and he ignores the report of Mar son of Rav Ashi unless he understands him to be saying that the effect of leaving a house empty and desolate is as if a wild ox had been let loose there.
Meiri is certainly not unaware that there are passages in the Talmud based on superstitious beliefs. Unwilling to accuse the Talmudic Rabbis of entertaining such beliefs, Meiri has recourse to the idea that the Rabbis tolerated superstitious beliefs that were too deeply rooted among the people to be eradicated. A good example of this is his comment to the passage on the avoidance of zuggot (‘pairs’, things that come in even numbers) in tractate Pesahim 109b-110b. Here the Talmud states that one should not eat an even number of foods at the same meal, two loaves for example, or drink an even number of cups of wine. In that case, the Talmud asks, why are we bidden to chink four cups of wine at the Seder on Passover eve? The reply is that Scripture says of this night: ‘It is a night of guarding’ (Exodus 12: 42) which is taken to mean: ‘It is an on-going night of guarding from the mazikim’. Here Meiri could hardly ignore the fact that the term mazikim must denote the harmful spirits who normally have power over things done in pairs but are powerless to do harm on this night. Meiri’s comment must be quoted in full as indicative of his opposition to superstition while acknowledging that superstitions are found frequently especially in the Babylonian Talmud where they are recorded without Rabbinic protest. Meiri observes: ‘We have explained in many places that in those times the people were attracted to vulgar things such as incantations, divinations and vulgar practices. For as long as these did not partake in any way of idolatry or the ways of the Amorites [the Talmudic term for superstitious practices] the Sages did not bother to eradicate them, still less regarding that which had become so habitual that it had become second nature to them [the masses] whether the belief was strong or weak. As this very passage testifies: “On one who takes it seriously it has an affect but has no effect on one who does not take it seriously”. Belonging to such topics is their practice of avoiding things that come in pairs. Now when the Sages ordained the drinking of four cups and they refused to allow either diminution nor increase because of such nonsense, they were obliged to give a reason for this departure from that which they [the masses] had become accustomed. So they gave the reason that this night is a night of guarding from the mazikim’. Meiri adopts a similar stance elsewhere in his Commentaries.
A particularly striking avoidance by Meiri of a too stark invocation of the supernatural is his comment on the passage in tractate Kiddushin 70a in which it is stated that when a man marries a woman who is not fit for him ‘Elijah binds him and the Holy One, blessed be He, flagellates him’. Meiri understands the reference to be to a woman not fit for the man because of her base ancestry, even though her actual illegal status is uncertain. Since she comes from a family of base character it might be an indication that she is legally unfit. Meiri continues ‘It is with this in mind that they [the Sages] say that Elijah binds him. That is to say, philologically and in popular usage Elijah denotes the clarification of doubtful cases so that her doubtful status will cause him constant anxiety, this being expressed as his being bound. until eventually he will come to realise that he will never see any indication of blessing from her and he will assume that she is really legally unfit for him. This is the meaning of “the Holy One, blessed be He, flagellates him”; it is a parable for the punishment he deserves’.
Meiri usually confines his detailed comments to the Halakhic passages, although he frequently quotes the Aggadah where it has some bearing on practical life and so becomes Halakhic in a sense. He does not explore in any depth lengthy Aggadic passages which have no practical application. It is not surprising, therefore, that he has only one comment on the lengthy passage on dreams in tractate Berakhot 55a-57b.The passage contains the formula for ‘making good a bad dream’ (55b). The man who has had a bad dream should assemble three men and say to them: ‘I have seen a good dream’ and they should say to him ‘Good it is and may it be good. May the All- merciful turn it to good: seven times may it be decreed concerning thee from Heaven that it should be good, and may it be good’. They should then recite three verses in which the word for ‘turn’ occurs; three verses in which the word for ‘redeem’ occurs; and three verses in which the word for ‘peace’ occurs. The passage continues that if a man sees a dream of which he does not know its true nature he should stand in front of the priests when they recite the Priestly Blessing and offer a prayer, given in full in the passage and later incorporated into a number of liturgies, that his dream should be turned to good. All this, clearly partaking of the magical, was extremely puzzling to the philosophical mind. Meiri does refer to the formula as a lahash (‘incantation’) but proceeds to soften the magical elements in the procedure by, as is his wont, understanding the whole matter for its psychological rather than its magical effect. Meiri writes: ‘Whenever a man is in trouble, even if it be of a very minor nature, he should scrutinize his deeds and allow it to bestir him to repentance. Even when all that happens to him is only the fright caused by a bad dream, he should examine [his deeds] and should worry about it so that it moves him to repentance. If it [the dream] has made him very anxious he should go to three friends and say to them . . .’, Meiri continuing with the formula stated in the Talmudic passage. Interestingly he reads the ‘incantation’ as actually stating ‘seven times may it be decreed’ and he rejects the reading that the formula be recited seven times, presumably because a seven-fold repetition would smack too much of magic. Meiri also seeks to avoid the magical element in the resort to the Priestly Blessing: ‘If he saw a dream and he cannot fathom whether it was good or bad so that his soul is disturbed he should arrange [to present his special prayer] for the time when the congregation has particularly strong intentions, namely at the time of prayer, and certainly at the time when the priests raise their hands and the congregation responds with Amen with special concentration, and he should then pray for himself.’ Meiri is obviously concerned that the Priestly Blessing should not be used as a magical means of turning a bad dream into a good one. The time of the Priestly Blessing is the time when the congregation is especially attuned to concentration and this will have the effect of enabling the man to concentrate on his plight and repent. To be noted is Meiri’s stress on the psychological state of the man who has had the dream.
Meiri frequently states explicitly that, in his opinion, the Rabbis say this or that only as a parable or a hint at some good practice and that they never intended what they say to be taken literally. On the statement (Kiddushin 30b) that God created the Torah as an antidote to the evil inclination just as a king who has wounded his son provides the son with a plaster to keep on the wound so as to prevent it festering, Meiri comments: ‘Whosoever is diligent in his study of the Torah, even if he had sinned because his inclination was so powerful and he has grown up with character defects, the Torah will shield him. That is to say, it is impossible for the Torah not to train him to return from them [the bad traits of character] and not prevent him from becoming immersed in them’. Meiri then quotes the parable of the king and refers to this as ‘they said in the way of a note’ (derekh heareh). Clearly he is anxious, as always, to avoid attributing quasi-magical power to the Torah. The study of the Torah enables the student himself to improve his character.
Similarly, on the statement (Berakhot 7b) that when a man fixes a place for his prayer, his enemies fall before him, Meiri (evidently having the reading ‘fixing a place for his study’, not his prayer) paraphrases it as: ‘Even if a man finds himself to be broad of heart, of easy grasp and of good memory, he should not be soft with himself by failing to have a fixed place [a permanent place in which he regularly studies]. Whoever does so will be successful in his studies and obtain the victory over those who disagree with him. This is the meaning of “his enemies fall before him”’. Here again Meiri seems anxious to avoid the suggestion that the Torah can be used as a weapon with which magically to defeat real enemies. The ‘enemies’ are colleagues of whom he will get the better in debates concerning Torah topics since he is better equipped, through his regular studies.
On the famous passage in Sukkah 28a about Rabban Johanan ben Zakkai’s attainments, Meiri understands the references to the sage’s knowledge of ‘the speech of the demons, the speech of palm trees and the speech of the ministering angels’ not to mean that the sage understood what these creatures were talking about but rather that he knew to talk about them (mah she-efshar le-dabber alehen). Among some of the Geonim ‘the speech of palm trees’ referred to a contemporary practice of divination by means of a sheet spread out in the wind between the palm trees. Meiri prefers to understand the reference in a non-magical way, paraphrasing the whole as ‘matters of great wisdom regarding the natural order and the supernatural’.
Meiri belongs firmly in both the Halakhic and philosophical camps. His uniqueness consists in his remarkable success in creating a running commentary to the Talmud in which the two disciplines are harmoniously blended.
 Marc Saperstein: Decoding the Rabbis: A Thirteenth-Century Commentary on the Aggadah, Harvard University Press, 1980. The ‘Thirteenth-Century Commentary’ is that of the hitherto largely unknown, Provencal scholar, Isaac ben Yedaiah, a contemporary of Meiri.
 On the problem of the Rabbinic Aggadah see Krochmal: Moreh Nevukhev Ha- Zeman, chapter 14, in The Writings of Nachman Krochmal, ed. S. Rawidowicz, London, 1961, pp. 238-256. On Rabbinic thinking as ‘organic’ rather than systematic see Max Kadushin: The Rabbinic Mind, New York, 1965.
 See e.g. Otzar Ha-Geonim, ed. B. M. Lewin, Vol. I, Berakhot, Haifa, 1928, pp. 2-3 on Elijah’s conversation with Rabbi Jose and pp. 130-132 on earth rumblings, and see my: Theology in the Responsa, London, 1975, pp. 6-10.
 See Maimonides’ Commentary to the Mishnah, Shabbat 2: 5 that the ‘evil spirit’ referred to in the Mishnah means a form of melancholia, and see Maimonides’ strong approval in his Guide, III, 22, of the saying of Rabbi Simeon ben Lakish (Bava Batra 16a): ‘Satan, the evil inclination and the angel of death are one and the same’.
 See Rashi’s comment to the story of the Rabbi who challenged Satan in Sukkah 38a which Rashi understands to mean a challenge to man’s own evil inclination rather that an external force. Cf. the Ran to Rosh Hashanah 16b on ‘confusing Satan’ who says that this means ‘to subdue the evil inclination’.
 For the little we know about the life of Meiri see the article by I. Ta-Shema in the Encyclopedia Judaica, Vol. 11, pp. 1257-1260, and Saperstein, op.cit., Index ‘Menachem Meiri’. Noteworthy is Meiri’s note to Sukkah 51a.
 This reference is given in Sefer Ha-Middot Le-Ha-Meiri, ed. M. M. Meshi-Zahav, Jerusalem, 1967, p. 100, based on a Vatican MS of Meiri’s Commentary to Proverbs.
 See also Meiri to Makkot 6b on a warning given by a demon (shed) which Meiri understands as pure hyperbole (derekh mashal) and Meiri on the statement that a scholar should not go out alone at night because the mazikim might harm him (Hullin 91a) which Meiri paraphrases as ‘people will be envious of him and may cause him harm’.
 Meiri remarks that the statement about the vast distances covered through a flight in the air by Elijah refers to the covering of these distances by a skilled acrobat who is said to be like Elijah is his capacity for swift travel and Joseph the Demon was such a skilled acrobat.
 Meiri probably means by ‘idolatrous thoughts’ Christian doctrines.
 Elijah is associated with resolving doubts in the Mishnah, Eduyyot 8: 7, and see my: TEYKU: The Unsolved Problem in the Babylonian Talmud, London, New York, 1981, p. 295.
 Cf. Meiri to Rosh Ha-Shanah 16b on changing one’s name and one’s place, i.e. not fooling God into believing that he is not the person upon whom the decree has been issues but using these devices in order to affect a change in himself. Meiri is obviously based here on Maimonides, Yad, Teshuva 2: 4 but is more elaborate. [illegible text] And cf. Meiri on Yoma 49b on ‘do not give the minor an opportunity to rebel―Meiri comments that the minim must say that the change over from right to left is because he practices magic.