Missionaries, Converts, and Rabbis

The Evangelical Alexander McCaul and Jewish-Christian Debate in the Nineteenth Century

David B. Ruderman

• Publisher: University of Pennsylvania Press
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9780812297034
• Topic: Théologie et religion
• Subtopic: Théologie juive

An examination of the life and work of Alexander McCaul and his impact on Jewish-Christian relations In Missionaries, Converts, and Rabbis, David B. Ruderman considers the life and works of prominent evangelical missionary Alexander McCaul (1799-1863), who was sent to Warsaw by the London Society for the Promotion of Christianity Amongst the Jews. He and his family resided there for nearly a decade, which afforded him the opportunity to become a scholar of Hebrew and rabbinic texts. Returning to England, he quickly rose up through the ranks of missionaries to become a leading figure and educator in the organization and eventually a professor of post-biblical studies at Kings College, London. In 1837, McCaul published The Old Paths, a powerful critique of rabbinic Judaism that, once translated into Hebrew and other languages, provoked controversy among Jews and Christians alike.Ruderman first examines McCaul in his complexity as a Hebraist affectionately supportive of Jews while opposing the rabbis. He then focuses his attention on a larger network of his associates, both allies and foes, who interacted with him and his ideas: two converts who came under his influence but eventually broke from him; two evangelical colleagues who challenged his aggressive proselytizing among the Jews; and, lastly, three Jewish thinkers—two well-known scholars from Eastern Europe and a rabbi from Syria—who refuted his charges against the rabbis and constructed their own justifications for Judaism in the mid-nineteenth century. Missionaries, Converts, and Rabbis reconstructs a broad transnational conversation between Christians, Jews, and those in between, opening a new vista for understanding Jewish and Christian thought and the entanglements between the two faith communities that persist in the modern era. Extending the geographical and chronological reach of his previous books, Ruderman continues his exploration of the impact of Jewish-Christian relations on Jewish self-reflection and the phenomenon of mingled identities in early modern and modern Europe.

CHAPTER 1

Portrait of an Evangelical Missionary to the Jews

Alexander McCaul and His Assault on Rabbinic Judaism

Alexander McCaul was not only a key clerical and political leader of the London Society for Promoting Christianity Amongst the Jews but one of its most profound intellectuals, deeply learned in Jewish literature and intimately familiar with contemporary Jews and Judaism. Educated in Dublin and London, living for a long period in Warsaw in the heart of a vast traditional Jewish society, conversant in Hebrew and Yiddish, McCaul was deeply committed to Jewish learning while openly critical of the Talmud, Jewish law, and the rabbis. His long career and writings present a remarkable case study of a dialectical relationship with Jews and Judaism, one of sincere affection but also bitter criticism, and of intense devotion to his subjects paired with contempt for the very core of their beliefs, especially in his repudiation of their rabbinic leadership. He demonstrates profoundly the rich complexity of a Christian missionary mind-set seeking to identify with and fully appreciate his subjects while simultaneously trying to undermine their religion and core beliefs so that they might accept his own.¹

I begin with three snapshots to introduce the man, each revealing a distinct and different aspect of his character and calling. The first is from one of two eulogistic essays penned in 1863 by the Reverend William Ayerst, a colleague of McCaul’s at the London Society who also dedicated a book to him.² The essay entitled “The Rev. Dr. McCaul and the Jewish Mission” opened with an acknowledgment of some of the early and later luminaries of the London Society in this era of mission to the Jews. He then turned to McCaul and described his special outreach to the Jews of Poland and his high regard for them and their literature. In Ayerst’s estimation, McCaul was unique in comparison with other Christian scholars and missionaries who had come before him: “We do not speak of scholars like [John] Lightfoot [1601–1700], [John] Gill [1697–1771], Bishop [John] Pearson [1613–86] and others who carefully studied the writings of the rabbies [sic], in order that they might better understand the sacred text; or of those who, like Bishop [Richard] Kidder [1633–1703] and [Philipp van] Limborch [1633–1712], have detailed the arguments which can be adduced in reply to Jewish objections to Christianity; these criticisms and discussions were carried on in a fair and just manner, not unworthy of the cause which led to their use. But these writers seem to have had little actual intercourse with the Jews now actually living among us. They treat the matter as a question of literary and sacred interest.”³

FIGURE 1. Alexander McCaul. Reproduced from W. T. Gidney, The History of the London Society for the Promotion of Christianity Amongst the Jews (London: London Society for Promoting Christianity Amongst the Jews, 1908), opposite p. 330. By permission of the British Library.

Ayerst then extended his comparison of McCaul with other Christian scholars of Judaism to include Johann Christoph Wagenseil (1633–1705) and Johann Andreas Eisenmenger (1654–1704) who shared McCaul’s objective to demonstrate that the doctrines of modern Judaism were radically different from those of Moses and the prophets. McCaul distinguished himself from the other two, however, in introducing a new style of writing. Wagenseil’s fifteen-hundred-page work entitled Tela Ignea Satanae (Fiery darts of Satan) did little good for the cause of Christianity, claimed Ayerst, since it called upon faithful Christians “to unite in attacking, beating, smiting, wounding, and routing the Jews.” Similarly Eisenmenger produced in his “2000 closely printed pages of quotations from all classes of Jewish writers, good, bad, and indifferent” a mere demonstration of how the Jews had departed from the truth. While Ayerst acknowledged the worth of such a massive undertaking, he wondered what good it ultimately produced and added parenthetically: “It is scarcely necessary to observe, that if anyone would take the trouble to collect passages from many writers who have been a disgrace to the name of Englishman, it would be easy to fill ten times as many volumes with matter ten times as objectionable as that which Eisenmenger has collected in his too notorious work.”

But McCaul was unlike these two writers in his sincere wish to contribute to the welfare of Israel: “He does not spare error but he speaks the truth with love. He was raised up by a Divine Providence to counteract the baleful influence of the spirit which was manifested by those who had preceded him.” Ayerst concluded by citing no less a contemporary Jewish authority than Dr. Isaak Markus Jost (1793–1860), who praised McCaul’s The Old Paths for presenting its arguments “in language intelligible to everyone, and that not as formerly in a spirit of hatred and division, which irritate and embitter the mind, but with a love and good will which gain the hearts of all.”⁴

My second snapshot is remarkably different from that of Ayerst’s affectionate tribute to his teacher. It is a negative portrait of McCaul and the London Society written by one of his closest associates, the convert named Stanislaus Hoga (1791–1860). Hoga was born in Lublin to a rabbinic and Hasidic family, given a serious rabbinic education while also learning several foreign languages that allowed him to work as a translator. He eventually moved to Warsaw, was employed as a Hebrew censor, and converted to Christianity apparently under McCaul’s patronage. He followed his Christian mentor to London where he actively participated in the translation of the New Testament into Hebrew and translated several other works. Most important, he was the alleged Hebrew translator of McCaul’s The Old Paths. But his relationship with the London Society eventually soured, and he criticized the mindless efforts of the society to pressure naive converts into abandoning rabbinic law. In several works written in the 1840s, he ultimately articulated his claim that Christian faith could go hand in hand with performance of the ritual law of Judaism as prescribed by the rabbis.⁵ In the first, and apparently only, issue of a periodical he had inaugurated entitled Ẓir Ne’eman: The Faithful Missionary; A Monthly Periodical, Illustrating the Value of Judaism, with a View to Opening the Eyes of Some Deluded Christians in England to the Doings of the (So-Called) “London Society” for Promoting Christianity Among the Jews (London, 1847), Hoga lashed out at McCaul directly. After a long diatribe against what he called the “glaring imposition and wickedness covered with the cloak of piety and religion” of the London missionaries and their futile attempts to convert any Jews except for the most destitute and vulnerable, he turned to his former mentor “the famous author of the ‘Old Paths,’” citing from the preface to the second edition of the book, where McCaul took credit for the emergence of Reform Judaism in England.⁶ Hoga found this claim ludicrous; moreover, he proceeded to attack the very work he had translated, even implying that the Hebrew version was hardly identical with the original work of the Christian cleric in the first place:

I say he [McCaul] deserves the thanks of the British Jews; yes I repeat it; if one who, with a design to curse the Jews, involuntarily does bless them [an allusion to the biblical Balaam], deserves their thanks, then none is more deserving the gratitude of the whole Jewish nation than the author of the “Old Paths.” The Hebrew book adapted to, and which he unjustly calls a translation of his English, will I am sure do the Jews nothing but good. They are too sensible to be seduced by his ridiculous arguments in favour of apostasy. On the contrary, that book will undoubtedly awaken many Jews in distant countries to reflection and to the defence of the faith of Judaism.⁷

My final snapshot is taken from a manuscript letter penned by McCaul during the time he was living in Warsaw in 1826. Addressed to the Reverend C. S. Hawtrey in London, it regards the details of his involvement in the London Society’s project of preparing a new translation of the Old Testament, in this case, the Pentateuch alone. What is interesting is a comment he made unrelated to the primary purpose of the letter, describing the purchase of certain Jewish books:

You shall see by Mr. Berhers’ [another official of the London Society] last amount that I bought some books for the society. One of these I shall send by the first best opportunity as an important acquisition to the Library of the Seminary. Its title is Kabbala Denudata [compiled by the Christian Hebraist Christian Knorr von Rosenroth (1636–89)] [which] is a very rare book and has been sold in Germany at a very high price—one copy in Vienna was sold for 100 ducats. I bought it from a collector of rare books who does not understand Hebrew for four ducats. It contains a lexicon to the difficult book Sohar, translations of several cabbalistic texts and the texts of several tracts of Sohar, pointed for the use of the student, with a Latin translation accompanied by Rabbi Isaac Luria’s commentary. The whole was compiled by the editor of the celebrated Sulzbach edition of Sohar, assisted by three Jewish rabbies [sic]. Another book which I bought from the same person is a Latin translation of Shebet Jehudah [of Solomon Ibn Verga (ca. 1460–1554)] by means of which the Committee may see what the book contains. But a book which is of more immediate importance to the Polish mission is a Jewish edition of Chizzuk Emunah [by the Karaite writer Isaac of Troki (ca. 1533–94)], which I wished to possess, and which I have seen almost everywhere in Poland where I have been, but which no Jew would sell to me. This I bought from a poor Jew in Warsaw who had no money to keep the feast of Tabernacles, and therefore brought it to me. It is the grand book of Jewish Polemics against Xianity. It would be well of the Committee to have the whole reprinted in Hebrew and Jewish with an answer following each objection. I hope to be able to send you an English translation, with such an answer as my experience in the subject may dictate before I begin [to translate] the prophets.⁸

Here is yet another face of McCaul, astute and enthusiastic collector of Jewish books, specifically works well known and utilized by Christian Hebraists. One might argue that the third book directly related to his work as a missionary in countering Jewish arguments against Christianity. But the first two dealing with the Jewish mystical tradition, especially the Lurianic texts, and Jewish historiography are of broader significance and suggest McCaul’s keen interest in the Jewish library as a whole.

In seeing these three images of McCaul written respectively by a devoted acolyte, a former Jewish convert, initially an associate and later an adversary, and by McCaul himself, we might ask who the real Alexander McCaul was. Was he a unique Christian pastor with a genuine love for Jews and Judaism? A deceiver and ineffectual missionary who denigrated the rabbis and their writings unfairly and wrongheadedly? Or was he a sincere Hebraist who greatly valued and admired the learning of Jews for its own sake? Perhaps he was simultaneously all three.

McCaul’s Life and Career

The basic outline of McCaul’s career is easily constructed from the standard history of the London Society of W. T. Gidney;⁹ from the numerous references to McCaul in the annual minutes of the London Society extant in its archives at the Bodleian Library at Oxford;¹⁰ from the annual proceedings of the London Society for Promoting Christianity Amongst the Jews called the Jewish Intelligence;¹¹ from the warm reminiscences of his daughter Mrs. Elizabeth Finn;¹² from McCaul’s numerous books, sermons, and other addresses over the course of a long and illustrious career;¹³ and from references to him on the part of many other contemporaries, particularly those associated with the society during and after his lifetime, including several eloquent eulogies written at the time of his death.¹⁴ During his lifetime, McCaul was a figure of enormous stature within the missionary world he inhabited, holding many important clerical and educational offices, and eventually a distinguished professorship at King’s College. I will touch only some of the highlights of this career in this and the next chapter, focusing primarily on the variegated strands of McCaul’s complex attitude to Jews and Judaism.

Alexander McCaul was born at Dublin on May 16, 1799. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin. At the young age of twenty-two he was sent as a missionary to Warsaw, Poland, in 1821, where he studied Hebrew, Yiddish, and especially rabbinics. While serving as a missionary in Poland, he gained the attention of such public figures as the grand duke Constantine, the crown prince of Prussia, and Sir Henry Rose, his benefactor. After briefly returning to London to receive his ordination, he resumed his Warsaw post accompanied by his new wife, Mary Clarke Crosthwaite, in 1823 and they remained in Poland until 1830. They had at least eleven children, several of whom became clergymen, and one daughter, Elizabeth Anne, became the wife of James Finn, the British consul for Jerusalem and Palestine.

In 1836 McCaul began publishing the weekly installments of his elaborate attack upon the Talmud under the title The Old Paths, which would appear in book form the following year.¹⁵ This elicited considerable interest among the leadership of the London Society as a critical tool in its mission to the Jews. It was translated into several languages, including German, French, and Italian, and especially into Hebrew (Netivot olam) by the aforementioned Hoga (who apparently claimed to have contributed more to the book than its mere translation, as we have seen). When the Hebrew edition appeared in 1839, Jews quickly took notice as multiple copies of the book were circulated throughout Europe and the Middle East. Despite some fifty other publications and numerous homilies that appeared in printed form, McCaul was known especially for his anti-Talmudic diatribe, which laid out a powerful case to Jews to abandon rabbinic Judaism and to embrace the Christian faith. Soon after, McCaul wrote vigorously against the notorious Damascus blood libel of 1840, demonstrating his profound respect for the high moral standards of Jews and profoundly displaying his self-described image as a friend of the Jewish people.¹⁶ After serving as the head of the London Society’s seminary for training missionaries like himself as well as other church offices, he was eventually invited to serve as professor of Hebrew and rabbinical literature at King’s College, London, which he accepted, and served in that post until his death in 1863.

Elizabeth Anne Finn, his aforementioned daughter and wife of James Finn, devoted several touching pages to her beloved father in her memoirs of England and Palestine, which provide a more intimate glimpse of the man than the public image emerging from the London Society’s official publications.

Finn recounted her father’s early educational background and the event that particularly stimulated his interest in missionary work, his meeting with the Reverend Lewis Way, one of the original founders of the London Society. This charismatic cleric altered the whole course of McCaul’s life, inviting him to forgo his scientific studies to join several other young men in London to study Hebrew literature: “He [McCaul] devoted his life to what he considered to be the highest good of the Jewish people, and through them the whole world.” His mission to the heartland of eastern European Jewry soon followed, and he was engrossed in the study of Judaism fro...