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CHAPTER 2

Jewish Fasting and Atonement

in a Christian Context

I knew that Jews and Christians did not observe the same rules of fasting.

—Herman-Judah, A Short Account, 92, ll. 1128–29

As the previous chapter demonstrated, pious practices were often linked to precise times and places. This chapter further examines pious practices as they related to eating and abstaining from food, with a specific focus on fasting. Just as culinary norms—what is eaten; when, where, and with whom; and, of course, how food is prepared—constitute individual and communal understandings of belonging, belief, and status, so too fasting serves to signify social and religious identity in all cultures.¹

During the past century, anthropologists have assessed the many roles that food plays in communal and self-definition,² and they have also demonstrated the dynamic nature of these symbols.³ The phenomena that have been elucidated by this research are hardly limited to modernity; they were manifested in pre-modern life and religion as well. Jewish dietary laws offer a prime example of practices whose constant elements and changing factors have been studied in great detail. These precepts were initially set forth in the Bible and continued to develop through late antiquity and the Middle Ages according to each era and location, ever integrating local realities while preserving ancient traditions. Within the Jewish community, dietary practices cultivated a preoccupation with food and bound the acts of preparing and eating meals within the group.⁴ In each generation and setting, these instructions effectively separated Jews from their non-Jewish neighbors.

The significance of fasting for medieval Jews was not dissimilar to the meanings imbued in culinary practices, and in many ways refraining from food and drink complemented dietary regulations. The roles of food and fasting in daily rituals and in rhythms of commemoration and celebration are among the primary building blocks of any religious community, fostering a shared sense of purpose and belonging.⁵ These patterns affected relations between medieval Jews and Christians, who observed individual and communal fasts at different times of year.⁶

The practice of fasting connected the body and its physical needs with less tangible values, such as self-denial and repentance.⁷ Rituals performed by individual bodies are often attributed to the social body as well, thus reflecting the community as a whole.⁸ By definition, fasting was conducted on a personal level by each individual who practiced this ritual; in the case of collective fasts, hunger and self-denial were simultaneously individual and communal experiences. Since communal fasts were accompanied by public rituals (e.g., prayer services with related liturgical content), these experiences were internally and externally based for a community and its members. Fasting can thus provide a window onto individual and collective practice.⁹

This chapter seeks to outline Jewish fasting practices in medieval Ashkenaz in terms of communal and personal piety alongside notions of repentance and atonement (teshuvah) that developed during the High Middle Ages. In this analysis of sources on fasting, close attention is given to the particularities of the practice itself, including the treatment of both men and women, as well as to gender as a determining factor in the significance ascribed to fasting.¹⁰ In light of the abundant scholarship on fasting and penance in medieval Christian Europe,¹¹ this study assesses Jewish fasting practices in the context of fasting among medieval Christians.¹²

My discussion of medieval Jewish fasting within Christian contexts is founded on three assumptions. First, although fasting has held a central role in nearly all religions and confidence in its efficacy has remained cogent over time, the precise modes of fasting are particular to each religion and vary relative to the others. In fact, religious communities distinguished themselves from one another in many ways, most notably here via their distinct ritual calendars and their interpretations of fasting as reflected by their own ideals and beliefs. These differences honed the identities of those who fasted even when they participated in a general practice that transcended the particularities of their own community (e.g., by fasting during a drought).

Secondly, no special designation or officially conferred status serves as a prerequisite for pious fasting. This point has far-reaching implications for the accessibility of this pious practice in its medieval context: fasting did not require specialized knowledge or publicly recognized stature, nor was it hierarchically controlled or determined, although rabbis and Christian clergy had a role in instructing when and even how fasts should be conducted. Each individual, whether learned or uneducated, could fast as an act of devotion. Neither was this custom geographically or logistically restrictive: one could fast at home, in the church, or on the road. These qualities render fasting a readily accessible expression of piety.

Figure 4. A community fasting. © Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg. Cod. Heb. 37, fol. 153r, detail. Siddur, fifteenth century.

Finally, a comment on the broader medieval cultural landscape is in order. As is well known, Islam advocated fasting in a manner that resembles Judaism and Christianity. Goitein and others have compared Jewish fasts to parallel customs among Muslims and Christians.¹³ A presentation of practical and conceptual comparisons between Jewish and Muslim fasting extends beyond the scope of this study which focuses on the Jewish and Christian praxes only.

Jewish Fasting in Late Antiquity

Since medieval Jewry cannot be fully understood without an awareness of earlier Jewish practices and norms, I lay the groundwork for our examination of medieval Ashkenazic fasting by surveying the practices among Jews in antiquity.¹⁴ Starting with the Bible, ancient Jewish texts discuss fasting in various contexts, the most prominent being Yom Kippur (Lev. 16), the day designated for the atonement of sin.¹⁵ The Bible emphasizes self-denial as a central component of the Day of Atonement, “made for you to cleanse you of all your sins” (Lev. 16:30), a day “when atonement (kapparah) takes place” (Lev. 23:28). The Bible also presents fasting as a primary means of expressing submission and devotion to God, preparing for contact with the Divine, and responding to critical situations.¹⁶ Critiques of fasting are also included in the biblical text, as frequent fasting sometimes evoked disapproval from prophets who argued against outward displays of piety if they were not accompanied by comparable inner reverence.¹⁷ It is noteworthy that these exhortations against fasting are rarely referenced in medieval Ashkenazic sources.¹⁸

Late antique sources, among them Tractate Ta’anit, discuss communal and individual fasts. Besides longstanding annual fasts like Yom Kippur and Tish’ah beAv (the day that commemorates the destruction of the Temples), communal fasts responded to crises—with drought being the classic example from antiquity. The Mishnah and the Talmud each delineate clear and graduated procedures at those times, beginning with fasts by community leaders and progressing in intensity and inclusiveness until the entire community participated.¹⁹

Individuals also fasted for a range of personal reasons during that period.²⁰ Two common motivations that led people to fast were the hope of neutralizing an omen envisioned in a threatening dream (ta’anit halom)²¹ and the desire to honor a parent’s memory on the anniversary of his or her death.²² Some Jews fasted at critical times in the calendar cycle: specifically during Elul and Adar, the months that precede the High Holidays and Passover, respectively.²³ Further substantiation that fasting had become widespread appears in Megillat Ta’anit, which lists the days when fasting was not permitted.²⁴ Such instructions would not have been necessary if fasting were not practiced extensively.

Numerous talmudic discussions consider the reasons for fasting and its efficacy, as Eliezer Diamond discusses at length in his study of ascetic fasting in the Talmud.²⁵ In his presentation of the dilemmas associated with frequent fasting, Diamond demonstrates that some rabbis cast this practice in a positive light, as exemplified in a passage in Tractate Berakhot that records personal prayers that certain rabbis would add to their recitation of communal liturgy. On fast days, Sheshet was reputed to include these words:

Sovereign of the Universe, You know full well that when the Temple was standing, when a man sinned, he would bring a sacrifice and even though only its fat and blood was given as an offering, atonement was granted to him. Now, having fasted, my own fat and blood are reduced. May it be Your will to reckon the diminishment of my fat and blood as if I had offered them on the altar before You, so You will favor me.²⁶

The power of fasting is also emphasized by the third-century amora Eleazar b. Pedat: “Fasting is more efficacious than charity … for the former is performed with a man’s money, but the latter with his body.”²⁷ However, Eleazar is quick to clarify that prayer is the preferred way to reach God.

Amram Tropper has suggested that some Jews, particularly in the intellectual strata of society, adopted fasting as a form of self-discipline during the Second Temple period as one aspect of their embrace of Hellenic ideals and ideas.²⁸ Diamond also describes holy men in the talmudic period who fasted in an effort to fortify their reputation for piety.²⁹ While men are depicted in the majority of antique Jewish sources that mention individual fasts, this should not be taken to imply that women did not fast. Rather, this rhetorical pattern suggests that in a society where men represented the norm, women were aggregated into the general community so did not merit special mention.

The talmudic descriptions of women fasting can be divided into two categories. Most focus on mandatory communal fasts, such as Yom Kippur, discussing whether pregnant and nursing women are required to participate and clarifying their responsibilities.³⁰ In the remaining texts, women who fast are featured in anecdotal passages. This vignette from the Palestinian Talmud, which appears in numerous medieval texts, is a fair exemplar:³¹ “Once a righteous man traveled to the netherworld, where he saw a woman named Miriam hanging by her ear from the hinge of hell’s door³² because ‘she fasted and announced her fast publicly.’”³³

This passage raises questions regarding the appropriate behaviors involved in fasting. According to the instructions outlined in the Talmud, abstaining from food was but one aspect of this practice. Fasting required intention and forethought.³⁴ In preparation, it was necessary to articulate one’s commitment to taking on a fast during the afternoon prayer service that preceded the fast (which began, with the Jewish calendar day, at sunset).³⁵ That declaration seems to have been made silently, therefore privately, during communal prayers. Personal fasting was also accompanied by symbolic actions (e.g., wearing sackcloth) that were visible to the community.³⁶ Thus late antique sources indicate that even individual fasts incorporated public rituals, since abstaining from food was signaled by mode of dress, not only by absence from communal meals.³⁷

Scholarly discussions of biblical and late antique sources are characterized by debates on whether ideas of repentance and atonement are found in pre-medieval texts and by investigations of the social identity of Jews who fasted frequently. As we have seen, the Bible mentions self-denial (inui nefesh) and atonement.³⁸ While these texts affirm the early roots of these practices, they also invite questions: How was atonement defined in late antiquity? Had fasting been conceptualized as a form of repentance yet? Over thirty years ago, Moshe Beer published a short article that engages with that second query. Having examined evidence from a range of pseudo-epigraphic sources (from the final centuries BCE to the early centuries CE) on penitential practices of that time, Beer observes that these texts address remorse (haratah) rather than teshuvah per se. According to his analysis, prayer, charity, and extreme fasting were practiced by members of the general population but not by the elite, for when hints of these practices make their way into talmudic discussions, they are ridiculed or dismissed as often as not. Since his article first appeared, Beer’s major conclusions have been supported by further research.³⁹

Let us return to Miriam who publicized her fasts, according to the Palestinian Talmud. Why was she criticized? We see that the talmudic discussant also wondered about this, for he provides further details: first informing us that she described her fast inaccurately, then explaining the implications of her misdeed. By exaggerating her actions, she gave the impression of being more pious than she actually was.⁴⁰ Thus, this Miriam was criticized for overstating her observance, not for fasting.

Other tales of fasting in the Talmud demonstrate that the practice and significance of intensive fasting occupied rabbinic scholars in late antiquity, without arriving at univocal conclusions. Some saw excessive fasting as harmful and undesirable, whereas others declared its practitioners as “holy.”⁴¹ A consistent division in perspective emerges between sages in Babylon and Palestine: the Babylonians rabbis seem to have discouraged fasting, at least indirectly, in that many public fasts were not observed in their communities, whereas their Palestinian peers appear to have promoted and praised fasting.⁴² These contrasting attitudes surface most notably in discussions of fasting on the Sabbath and holidays, especially fasting on Rosh haShanah, a custom that was rejected in Babylon but practiced quite widely in Palestine.⁴³ Despite the differences between these two centers, it can be concluded that many Jews in late antiquity fasted regularly and that this practice was generally interpreted as a sign of devotion and piety.

Christian Fasting in Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages

Fasting was also a central practice in late antique Christianity, having developed from the foundations it shared with Judaism. Theresa Shaw has detailed fasting practices in late antiquity by emphasizing the connection between fasting and asceticism,⁴⁴ with special attention to the link between fasting and virginity. In her textual analysis, Shaw presents individuals who sought to achieve the highest level of holiness possible and, as part of that pursuit, retreated from the everyday practices of most Christians and from urban society.⁴⁵

Fasting was neither exclusive to individuals who adopted ascetic practices, nor was it necessarily taken to extreme forms of observance. For many Christians weekly fasting was part of their religious routine, reflecting the long-held belief that fasting was pleasing to God. Fasting was one of a trio of deeds that included prayer and charity that Church fathers saw as central to all religious practice. Indeed, late antique texts commonly assert that prayer is strengthened when accompanied by fasting and giving alms.⁴⁶ One of these practices was at times substituted for the other.

In medieval Europe, the role of fasting in Christianity gained significant meaning as a symbol of religious status. Caroline Bynum and André Vauchez each demonstrate the centrality of fasting for the most pious Christians, as exemplified by daily life in various religious orders.⁴⁷ Bynum’s study of the fasts undertaken by radical ascetics in the High Middle Ages brought scholarly attention to gender as a distinguishing factor in fasting norms and habits and, more broadly, to the significance of food in medieval piety.⁴⁸ Vauchez’s research on sainthood emphasizes that perfection was measured by the degree of austerity practiced with regard to food, such as the length of fasts and the intensity of privations that were grounded in the belief that fasting provided a mechanism for denying the physical world and dedicating oneself to God. This view of fasting among candidates for sainthood and canonized saints pervades the observations of their deeds, as noted by witnesses and recorded by hagiographers.⁴⁹ Both Bynum and Vauchez and others who followed them have demonstrated that displays of abstinence represented a valuable form of social capital that religious leaders leveraged to assert their place in the societal hierarchy. Thus the vitas of bishops commonly detail their acts of fasting, prayer, and charity.⁵⁰

Medieval Christian society was also home to individuals who took on public penance, whose observances were marked by wearing special shirts or robes and fasting more frequently than the general population. Many (but not all) of them committed themselves to celibacy⁵¹ and joined religious orders. No less significantly, moderate fasting and refraining from select foods were so commonly practiced in medieval Europe that they can reasonably be described as routine for clergy and laity alike.⁵² These practices stemmed from a culture of penance that endorsed self-denial as a path to salvation.

Medieval Christian worshipers fasted on communally recognized occasions, in accordance with the annual calendar cycle, and as individual and social circumstances prompted: for instance, three-day communal fasts were often undertaken in preparation for special religious celebrations, such as the authentication of a relic or the dedication of a cathedral;⁵³ the entire community would fast throughout Lent and at other designated times, such as Ember and Rogation days; and individuals took on volitional fasts in response to events in their lives, such as an illness or a death in the family, as well as at times of danger and warfare.⁵⁴ A recent study estimates that the average Christian abstained from selected foods or fasted 220–240 days per year,⁵⁵ attesting to the ubiquity of this practice during the medieval period.⁵⁶

As this survey shows, fasting was a fundamental religious practice in the Christian society in which medieval European Jews lived. It seems noteworthy for the consideration of medieval Jewish fasting that medieval Christian sources present their practices at odds with Jewish ones. Let us consider a text that situates our investigation of Jewish practice in its medieval Christian environs. In June 1239, Pope Gregory IX (d. 1241) sent a letter containing thirty-five accusations against the Talmud—presented as the causes of Jews’ blind refusal to embrace Christianity⁵⁷—to the Bishop of Paris and many other Christian authorities throughout Europe. The content of that papal dispatch was based on Gregory’s conversations with Nicholas Donin, a convert from Judaism, who was appointed to deliver the document to Church officials. Donin subsequently served as the lead prosecutor in the 1240 disputation against the Talmud that resulted in its burning in 1244.⁵⁸

One topic in that letter from 1239 stands out for its seeming lack of connection to the broader charges levied therein. According to accusation #33, the Talmud declares that anyone who fasts is a sinner:

“And all who fast are considered sinners.” This is read in Seder Mo’ed, in the first chapter of Tractate Ta’anit, where it is said: Samuel said: “Whosoever sits in fast is called a sinner, since we read this about the Nazarite: ‘And make expiation on his behalf for the guilt that he incurred through the corpse.’” And we read that Eleazar haKappar said: “What does ‘And make expiation’ mean? Against which soul did he sin? It means that [he incurred guilt because] he denied himself by abstaining from wine. Certainly we can reason, inferring from a minor assertion to a major one, that if this man who only denied himself wine is called a sinner, how much the more so one who denies himself enjoyment of ever so many things.⁵⁹

This allegation is an almost verbatim citation from Tractate Ta’anit 11a in the Babylonian Talmud. However, a close reading of this passage in its original context quickly reveals that the pope and his counsel, Nicholas, were quoting selectively. This talmudic discussion continues with Eleazar taking the opposite position by claiming that one who fasts is holy, which concurs with the stance that the pope ascribes to Christianity.⁶⁰

Why was this talmudic quotation (albeit taken out of context) inserted in this papal communiqué? Chen Merchavia reads its inclusion as a protest against a perceived attack on Christian fasting customs, especially those practiced by monks, whose position was seen by Christians as analogous to the biblical Nazarites. The charge that the Talmud equates fasting with sin was meant to highlight the absurdity of Jewish practice as exemplified by the Jewish miscomprehension of this key Christian ritual. This claim also provided an opportunity, in the spirit of Jerome, to condemn Jews of being excessively materialistic and, as a result, unable to put their spiritual interests over their carnal needs.⁶¹ In that cultural environment, the inclusion of an accusation against the alleged Jewish condemnation of fasting in a papal writ stresses the significance of fasting as a spiritual and tangible mode of devotion to God. In order to contextualize this accusation, let us turn to the Jews of medieval Ashkenaz to examine the role of fasting in their religious practice.

Jewish Fasting in Medieval Europe

The influence of the late antique heritage of fasting in Jewish communities seems to have faded somewhat over the centuries that followed, for the Ge’onim did not emphasize the value or practice of fasting. While ge’onic writings indicate that major fasts were maintained, consistent with earlier generations of the Babylonian schools of thought, they prohibited fasting on the Sabbath and other holidays, especially prior to Rosh haShanah and on a second day of Yom Kippur. Fasting an additional day for Yom Kippur was a late antique custom that was often reproved but that persisted throught the medieval period. Judai Ga’on (d. 761) notes that this period is known as the “Ten Days of Repentance” (aseret yemei teshuvah), not the “Ten Days of Fasting.” He questions what might have inspired a tendency to fast during these days. Similar views are attributed to Hai Ga’on (d. 1038).⁶² Nevertheless, these opinions represent points on a spectrum that extended from endorsement of fasts to discouragement from this practice, and it is evident that some people did fast during these times.⁶³ As for fasting on the Sabbath following bad dreams, the Ge’onim condoned the practice only after truly menacing ones.⁶⁴

These heterogeneous stances toward fasting in Babylonian sources may explain why the lists of fast days that have reached us from the ge’onic period are less elaborate than their medieval parallels.⁶⁵ These distinctions should not be mistaken for a claim that medieval Jews living in Islamic societies did not fast; however, Jewish fasting practices in Muslim lands deserve consideration within their cultural context as well as a detailed comparison to Muslim practice, a topic for future consideration.

As we shift our focus from Babylon to Europe, it is important to acknowledge that medieval Ashkenazic Jews were well aware of Babylonian halakhic trends and instructions.⁶⁶ In her recent book Lama tzamnu? (Wherefore have we fasted?),⁶⁷ Shulamit Elizur traces the history of Megillat Ta’anit Batra. This text first appeared in eighth-century Babylon under the title Sefer Halakhot Gedolot; it was copied widely then ultimately renamed and appended to Megillat Ta’anit. Megillat Ta’anit Batra enumerates fasts that were observed on dates that Jews have historically associated with biblical events (e.g., the deaths of Miriam, Aaron, Moses, and Joshua) and on post-biblical milestones, such as the day when the Greek translation of the Bible was completed. Elizur focuses on textual transmission rather than actual or presumed practices. Even though this list originated in early medieval Babylon, it is significant that it was copied and circulated most extensively in twelfth- and thirteenth-century Ashkenaz; indeed, custom books from medieval Ashkenaz attest that at least some of these fasts were observed.⁶⁸

Although our earliest (eleventh century) sources from Ashkenaz bear no mention of widespread fasting, as other scholars have remarked, many prominent community leaders and scholars from that time in both Germany and northern France describe fasting as a regular component of their annual observances. Most notably, Rashi’s teachers, Judah b. Barukh (eleventh century) and Isaac b. Eliezer haLevi (ca. 1000–1080) in Worms, fasted for two days in observance of Yom Kippur, a practice that the Ge’onim had discouraged.⁶⁹ Other leading German rabbis, such as the twelfth-century scholars Eliezer b. Joel haLevi (Ra’aviah) and his younger contemporary, Judah the Pious, also fasted for two days of Yom Kippur. Ra’aviah wrote about individuals who abstained from meat for the three-week period before the fast on the Ninth of Av, more than doubling the normative nine-day restriction.⁷⁰ We have additional evidence of leading twelfth-century rabbis in northern France who fasted regularly.⁷¹ Isaac b. Samuel of Dampierre (known as R”I, ca. 1100–ca.1178) is known to have fasted almost every Sunday, Monday, and Thursday, as well as on personally selected days;⁷² Isaac b. Joseph of Corbeil was also known for his asceticism. At critical times in the year, such as the Sabbath before Yom Kippur, some texts suggest that only prominent scholars were qualified to fast.⁷³

These intensive fasting practices linked to the Jewish calendar—such as fasting on the Sabbath, on Rosh haShanah, on two days for Yom Kippur, throughout the Ten Days of Repentance, for the fast of the firstborn preceding Passover,⁷⁴ and during the months of Av and Elul⁷⁵—all have late antique precedents. In medieval Ashkenaz, the fasting practices that Babylonian authorities sought to curtail seem to have emerged with renewed rigor.⁷⁶ For example, Eleazar of Worms explained that fasting on Rosh haShanah was commendable since it was inappropriate to feast when the Lord’s table was empty. His comment suggests that fasts were food for God, recalling the sacrificial dimension of fasting we noted above.⁷⁷ In the late thirteenth century, Samson b. Tzadok exclaimed wistfully: “If only all of Israel would fast on Rosh haShanah!”⁷⁸ Medieval Ashkenazic rabbis were supporting practices that were commonplace in late antique Palestinian texts, even though Babylonian sources were in greater circulation in Germany and northern France.⁷⁹

Figure 5. Prayers for Monday and Thursday fasts. © The Bodleian Libraries, Oxford University. MS. Mich. 569 (1098), fol. 49a. Siddur, thirteenth century.

The inventory of fasts related to the annual calendar provided a baseline to which individual and ritual fasts were added. Whereas Jews in late antiquity fasted Mondays and Thursdays⁸⁰ as part of their supplication for rain, medieval European Jews in northern France and Germany modified that practice to fasting on Mondays and Thursdays during Iyar and Heshvan, which reflects the lesser dependence on seasonal rains in their locales.⁸¹ In addition, the medieval Ashkenazic pattern of fasting also included the whole month of Elul and the Ten Days of Repentance (forty consecutive days).⁸² Moreover, fasting on Mondays and Thursdays during the shovavim (designated weeks in winter) became customary in medieval Ashkenaz.⁸³ This practice was ritualized by a blessing that was recited on the Sabbath prior to a Monday-Thursday-Monday fasting series: “May the One who blessed our ancestors, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, bless this community that commits itself to fasting on Mondays, Thursdays and Mondays and to attending this synagogue every morning and evening. May God (haMakom) hear their prayers, accept their fasts, and save and redeem them from all hardship and adversity together with all of Israel. Amen.”⁸⁴

In medieval prayer books (siddurim), this prayer⁸⁵ sometimes appears with the word “individual” (yahid) as a gloss or inserted in the text, an indication that although these fasts were fixed in the calendar, they were exercised by individual choice rather than communal obligation.⁸⁶ If more than ten men fasted on a single day, the liturgy was augmented with a special Torah reading and liturgical poetry (piyyutim). The inclusion of collected liturgical poems in medieval prayer books signals that they were regularly recited.⁸⁷ Furthermore, fasting was often complemented by charitable contributions.⁸⁸

Ominous events also prompted communal fasts. Numerous reports of responses to peril describe the entire community fasting at such times, including children and sometimes even toddlers. The following account of the Jews of Trier in 1096 serves as an example:

And in those days, they fasted many times and abstained; they atoned and gave charity. They fasted for six weeks, day by day, from Passover until Shavuot, and every evening they scattered coins for the poor. They were taxed four times and for each libra of tax payment, they gave a denarius for protection. When that was not sufficient (payment for protection), the bribes multiplied until they had given all of their property, even the shawls⁸⁹ on their shoulders.⁹⁰

Figure 6. List of fasts. From North French Miscellany. © The British Library Board. Ms Add. 11639, fols. 683v, 684r. Northern France, late thirteenth century.

Other communities fasted when they were under attack and during various commemorations.⁹¹ For example, a well-known description of the Blois Affair of 1171 concludes by stating that the Jewish communities of France and the Rhine all established that day as “a day of mourning and fasting, as a result of their own desire and the instructions of our rabbi, the Ga’on, Jacob b. Meir (Rabbenu Tam, ca. 1100–1171)—who wrote books informing them that it was fitting to designate this as a fast day for our entire people, a fast that will surpass the fast of Gedalyah b. Ahikam in importance because it is a Day of Atonement.”⁹² The institution of commemorative fasts continued throughout the Middle Ages, as when the Talmud was burned and during the Black Death.⁹³

Medieval sources also document communal fasts that were induced by concerns and sensibilities beyond the calendar cycle and imminent danger. These fasts point to motivations from self-discipline and self-torment to penance. Textual instructions for fasting illustrate the many ways to observe a fast, from not eating at all to partaking of specific foods refraining from others. Ephraim Kanarfogel has analyzed a fascinating community fast as preparation for conjuring the soul of a dead man. In response to a father who had been unable to attend the funeral of his murdered son, Rabbenu Tam and Elijah of Paris are reputed to have permitted the use of the Tetragrammaton to resurrect the image of the deceased:

Isaac said: It happened that twenty-year-old Elijah, son of Todros, was killed in his home city. His father was away when he was buried. Upon his return, the father refused to eat or drink until the great rabbis of his time, Jacob of Ramerupt and Elijah of Paris, would allow him to conjure his son’s image by using the Divine Name…. They ultimately granted him permission to do so. He then bathed, immersed, dressed in white, and then, [along with Todros,] the entire community fasted on Thursday and went to synagogue.⁹⁴

Here we see personal and communal fasting as preparation for summoning the dead youth’s soul. The father prepares for this ritual most intensely, by immersing then dressing in white, but the community joined him in fasting and accompanied him for the actual ceremony.

Like their ancestors in late antiquity, medieval Jews fasted for personal reasons without community involvement.⁹⁵ In the Middle Ages, the practice of fasting after a bad dream was maintained, but with more ritual complexity: the fast was initiated by an announcement and chanting a set group of verses in the presence of three male witnesses, and while fasting the “dreamer” would refrain from grooming in the form of shaving or hairstyling.⁹⁶ This fast was thought to prevent the omens in that dream from reaching fruition.⁹⁷ Despite talmudic debates over their appropriateness and ge’onic restrictions on their applicability,⁹⁸ observance of these fasts on the Sabbath continued throughout the Middle Ages in Germany and northern France. Medieval Ashkenazic authorities tried to balance opinions that discouraged such Sabbath fasts with those that favored them: thus it became customary to nullify fearsome dreams that occurred before the Sabbath by fasting on the Sabbath and to make amends for that very fast by refraining from eating on Sunday.⁹⁹

Fasts were also taken on to mark a wide array of personal decisions, physical transitions, and life-cycle junctures. As in late antiquity, brides and grooms fasted on the day of their wedding,¹⁰⁰ a gesture that resonated with the biblical description of Daniel’s preparation for revelation. Medieval sources mention fasting as an expression of regret after insulting a fellow community member¹⁰¹ and after drinking wine produced by non-Jews.¹⁰² As we will see in greater depth later in this chapter, converts would fast as one component of their process of returning to Judaism.¹⁰³ In addition, a narrative in one thirteenth-century manuscript tells of a woman and her husband who fasted before a much-feared confrontation.¹⁰⁴ Thus fasts were undertaken for a wide variety of reasons.¹⁰⁵

Not only adults but also children fasted. They are explicitly mentioned with women and men in certain contexts for fasting, particularly during community-wide fasts after traumatic communal events¹⁰⁶ and on annual fast days.¹⁰⁷ Rashi notes that children who had reached the “age of education” (gil hinukh) should fast, recommending nine or ten years as the appropriate starting point.¹⁰⁸ Rashi’s grandson, Jacob b. Meir (Rabbenu Tam), also addressed this subject when queried on his opinion of especially pious people¹⁰⁹ who not only refused to feed their own young children (who were under the age of education) on Yom Kippur but who also claimed that parents who fed their young offspring on that day were transgressing the law. In his reply, Jacob b. Meir supports parents whose children ate and drank on Yom Kippur, refuting the arguments posed by the more stringent members of his community.¹¹⁰ thirteenth- and fourteenth-century sources acknowledge that some parents instructed their children, boys and girls, to fast from a very young age even though that practice exceeded halakhic guidelines.¹¹¹ Despite assertions that such fasting was not only unnecessary but potentially dangerous for young children, an undercurrent of approval for this approach to fasting persisted.¹¹²

While there is little need to detail men’s practice as a specific category given that the sources above feature men as the primary population that fasts, it is significant to highlight the select texts where women’s fasts are explicitly mentioned,¹¹³ many of which are listed by Bitha Har-Shefi in her research.¹¹⁴ Women, like men, fasted as individuals and with the community; for example, their fasts followed the annual calendar during the Ten Days of Repentance¹¹⁵ and the Fasts of Gedalyah and Esther.¹¹⁶ Admittedly, “one (ehad) [who]” is the protagonist in the stories that are regularly told of paradigmatic man.¹¹⁷ Yet, as mentioned earlier, this use of the masculine singular form represents the rhetorical norm, whereas women are specifically mentioned in circumstances that pertain to them exclusively¹¹⁸ or where a woman is the primary subject. This literary pattern is represented in the famous case of a businesswoman who asked Rashi if she were required to observe the Fast of Esther when it coincided with her work-related travel.¹¹⁹

Fasting among women is notably recorded when a mother and father fasted together as part of their shared concern for their sick child or when the family was separated due to travel,¹²⁰ as when

someone departed from the city where his father and mother dwell, if his journey is considered dangerous—and his father and mother are worried about his welfare, whether or not they have elected to fast on his behalf—it is his duty to hire a messenger as soon as possible to send a letter notifying his father and mother that he is out of danger, having arrived safely to his destination, and that they should neither worry nor fast any longer.¹²¹

What motivated these parents to fast? They were clearly moved by a desire to petition for their child’s welfare, yet they also were working from a belief that their own suffering would help secure his safe transit. Thus fasting could convey piety and supplication simultaneously. The parallel mention of the mother and father in this source signals its depiction of a standard practice.

In the rulings attributed to Peretz b. Elijah (Rabbenu Peretz, d. 1297), one source discusses whether it is permissible to commit oneself to a fast and then postpone it. This sage was asked: “About a woman who said, ‘I will fast today.’ Can she delay it to the morrow for her sister?”¹²² He responded that although one may defer a fast, it was unwarranted in this situation. Notwithstanding the vagueness of this case—it is not clear whether the woman sought to postpone her fast because of her sister or if she was in fact fasting on her sister’s behalf—this text offers no indication that a woman fasting was considered exceptional. The relationship between accepted practice and exceptional piety is imprecise in these cases, for these fasts were part of the established routine, yet I would suggest that frequency and intensity rather than the observance of fasting per se was what had social and religious significance.

The writings of Meir b. Barukh of Rothenburg are replete with references to fasting, including men and women who committed themselves to Monday and Thursday fasts and then wished to delay or cancel their vows.¹²³ Meir of Rothenburg tells of a woman who planned to fast on Mondays and Thursdays, but she was unsure of the procedures involved.¹²⁴ His response too was gender neutral.

Mordekhai b. Hillel (1250–1298) relates the case of a woman who was allowed to pause between two fast days rather than fast consecutively. She had fasted on the Sabbath on account of a bad dream. Typically she would have been expected to fast on the following day (Sunday) to atone for fasting on the Sabbath; however, she could not. Thus Asher recalled precedents from similar cases: “Samuel of Bamberg allowed a woman to fast on the Sabbath on account of a dream. But she was not able to fast for two days in a row, so he allowed her to fast on two separate days of the week, neither being the Sabbath. And Eliezer of Metz also ruled the same way.”¹²⁵

Gender plays no apparent role in this case. This woman could not fast as planned, so she sought rabbinic guidance to resolve her dilemma, no more and no less.¹²⁶ In other instances, fasting among women became a subject of halakhic discussion when conditions unique to women—be they biological or social—were at the heart of the queries being raised. From the Talmud onward, halakhic texts exempt pregnant, post-partum, and nursing women from fasting on Yom Kippur.¹²⁷ This explicit release implies that women were otherwise expected to fast as members of the community. A responsum by Haim Paltiel (thirteenth century) illustrates the nexus of the quotidian nature of women’s fasts and the exceptions that may arise. Here a woman took on the obligation to fast, then immediately discovered that she was pregnant. Haim was asked how she could annul her vow and he detailed the procedure for her.¹²⁸ Like other medieval texts, this opinion provides a common explanation for the prohibition against fasting during pregnancy—as a potential cause of miscarriages that must be avoided.¹²⁹ Unfortunately, it offers no background for the motivation behind this woman’s fast.

Fasting, Repentance, and Atonement

The evidence of these Jewish men and women who fasted and their motivations for fasting presented up to this point has been varied. Although fasting was commonly attributed to conspicuously pious individuals,¹³⁰ I suggested the qualities that determined piety were often the degree and frequency of practice, rather than the deed being performed. Thus the stringently pious fasted alongside community members who followed more conventional approaches in accordance with the calendar cycle and personal circumstances.

Much as fasting on Yom Kippur was seen as a form of self-denial on the path to atonement, individual fasts were also understood as a means for repentance. Numerous sources describe fasting as a substitute for the sacrifice that would have been offered during the Temple period to atone for a given sin.¹³¹ Penitential fasting was certainly not unique to medieval or Jewish culture. As noted above, fasting had already been linked to atonement in biblical and rabbinical literature. For example, a talmudic interpretation of “When Adam had lived one hundred and thirty years” (Gen. 5:3) in Tractate Eruvin describes Adam fasting after being exiled from Eden: “Meir said, ‘Adam was a hasid.¹³² When he recognized that death was ordained as a punishment on his account, [Adam responded by] fasting, avoiding sexual relations with his wife,¹³³ and wearing fig leaves for one hundred thirty years. That statement¹³⁴ was made to offset semen that he accidentally emitted.’ ”¹³⁵

According to this passage, Adam tried to atone for having sinned—whether defined as the actions that led to his exile from Eden or the emission of semen—by fasting.¹³⁶ In fact, it could be argued that repentance has been a consistent motif in Jewish fasting throughout history, in terms of individual practice and communal observance. For example, on communal fast days such as Yom Kippur, confession is a component of the public prayer service that is understood as a fulfillment of the biblical injunction to recite a personal confession (vidui). However, the concept and practice of repentance were dramatically transformed among the Jews of medieval Ashkenaz, much as they were among their Christian neighbors. Before turning to these medieval Jewish developments, I survey medieval Christian approaches to penance.

Penance in Medieval Christian Culture

Fasting was an essential component of Christian penance, along with prayer and almsgiving, as described above,¹³⁷ and medieval penance was a subject of scholarly investigation among theologians and legal historians. These scholars defined the thirteenth-century institution of mandatory confession for every Christian by the Fourth Lateran Council as a landmark for Christian society and also examined the founding of schools and universities that developed common curricula and methods for conceptualizing and teaching about penance.¹³⁸ Some of these researchers have interpreted this systematization of penance as a battle over doctrine.¹³⁹ Over the past decade, scholars have begun to uncover the social contexts where penitential books were used and how penance was practiced. Their examination of liturgies and records of public penance suggest a lack of congruence between doctrinal divisions and contemporaneous religious practice.¹⁴⁰ As a result, some scholars have forged a new approach that interprets debates about penance as attempts by university teachers to provide an overview of this rich tradition for their students, not as efforts to reconcile doctrinal distinctions.¹⁴¹

Two key aspects of penance that have received current scholarly attention are its origins among laity (as compared with its history in monastic communities) and the differences between private and public penance.¹⁴² As the older of the two forms, public penance was reserved for grave sins. This once-in-a-lifetime ritual and would take place during Lent, in response to the call for confession and penance issued to all Christians at that time each year. Driven by penitential piety, individuals would dress in special (often white) garments and perform penance publicly.¹⁴³ Starting in the Carolingian era, some sins, if known to the public, required stricter discipline. In such instances, this ritual was presided over by a bishop rather than a local priest and the penitent was formally separated from the community on Ash Wednesday until being reintroduced on Holy Thursday.

In contrast with the singular nature of public penance, private penance could be practiced multiple times each year.¹⁴⁴ Scholarly understandings of this sacramental ritual have shifted significantly over the past decade. Recent scholarship has challenged Alexander Murray’s widely accepted assertion that confession was rare among the laity before the thirteenth century; instead, scholars have identified the ninth century as a pivotal period in the emergence of confession and the rites of penance for laity and members of monastic orders.¹⁴⁵ This new research claims that “private confession” is more anachronistic than accurate as a description of the penitential ritual performed by individuals regarding their own sins, and that confession rarely occurred in private: detailed scholarly descriptions of confession in medieval Europe reveal that penitents were neither alone with their confessors nor concealed from view.¹⁴⁶ In his study of penance in the early Middle Ages, Rob Meens explains that the so-called “private” penance (paenitentia occulta or secreta) is best characterized by way of negation. “It is not public penance, in the sense of a highly ritualized form of penance imposed by the bishop,” but it did incorporate various elements adapted from public penance (such as wearing special garments, almsgiving, and fasting) that rendered the penitent visible to the community.¹⁴⁷ “These differences should not be overdrawn,” writes Karen Wagner; “the actual confession of one’s sin was rarely public, and given the communal nature of early medieval society, no penitential satisfaction could remain entirely private.”¹⁴⁸ As Sarah Hamilton remarks, scholars have viewed penance and confession from the perspective of clergy more than from that of the laity; changing that focus has revealed the widespread and public nature of this process.¹⁴⁹ These scholars, along with Mayke de Jong and Mary Mansfield, have each demonstrated that “private” penance was far from private in ninth-to thirteenth-century Christian practice.¹⁵⁰

As private penance developed over the course of the Middle Ages, it came to include the confession of sins to a priest, an assignment of rituals required to achieve absolution—fasting, praying, or almsgiving (with some acts being interchangeable)—and a granting of absolution. While confession was a prerequisite for participation in Mass and receiving the Eucharist, it was also a key component of penance. Fasting was not the province of ascetics alone any more than penance was exclusive to the clergy prior to the Fourth Lateran Council (1215).¹⁵¹ Throughout the Middle Ages, penance could include fasting for periods ranging from weeks to months or even years to be forgiven for theft, sexual transgressions, or other sins.¹⁵²

Jewish Fasting and Confession in the High Middle Ages

In this atmosphere, amid the growing importance of penance and confession for Christians, the concept and act of repentance were dramatically transformed by the Jews of medieval Ashkenaz. This revolution is exceptionally documented in the writings of Samuel b. Judah, his son Judah, and Judah’s star pupil, Eleazar b. Judah of Worms. These innovators developed their teachings building on ideas from ancient sources and integrating them with current practices.¹⁵³ The literature that they produced consistently encourages fasting: Sefer Hasidim and Sefer Rokeah; other compositions by Judah the Pious, such as Sefer haGematriyot; and the extensive oeuvre by Eleazar of Worms, known for its focus on mysticism. These works emphasize fasting as a means for achieving atonement, along with prayer and charity. Relating fasting to these other two components—for example, to refrain from eating before praying—was a long-accepted practice.¹⁵⁴ Similarly, Judah the Pious instructed his followers not to eat until they had both prayed and given charity as they had pledged.¹⁵⁵ This medieval pietist’s prescription for repentance stands out for the rigor with which it was embraced and its demand that atonement be actively sought in daily practice.

As numerous scholars have demonstrated during the past century—from the work of Yitzhak (Fritz) Baer and the tremendous expansion of this scholarship by Haym Soloveitchik, Ivan Marcus, and others—Hasidei Ashkenaz have been characterized by their belief in the need for repentance, which was founded on long-held customs while also representing significant degrees of innovation.¹⁵⁶ Hasidei Ashkenaz exemplified extreme piety in their relentless search for rituals that would elevate the level of religious devotion in daily Jewish life. Their writings express fresh notions of how to satisfy “the will of the Creator” (ratzon haboreh) and express love for God that balanced fear and awe (yir’ah).¹⁵⁷ Liturgically, Hasidei Ashkenaz were known for their prolonged prayer services and their meticulous attention to each word therein.¹⁵⁸ A defining feature of their worldview is the conviction that every human is incessantly lured by temptations which must be resisted and that, consequently, everyone is rewarded in proportion to the suffering involved in that struggle.¹⁵⁹ As part of their quest to worship God wholeheartedly, Hasidei Ashkenaz crafted a distinctive system of repentance that Ivan Marcus outlined two decades ago in his book Piety and Society. As Marcus and other scholars have noted, certain dimensions of this framework for repentance are drawn from earlier Jewish texts, particularly Hekhalot literature.¹⁶⁰

Samuel b. Judah, Judah, and Eleazar of Worms constructed a system where atonement was accomplished through penitent actions that corresponded to the sin committed. Samuel b. Judah expanded the talmudic definition of repentance to include the ability to refrain from repeating sinful behavior¹⁶¹ by prescribing acts of repentance derived from the biblical punishment for a given sin and the pleasure experienced from that behavior.¹⁶² In the course of their writings, Samuel and Judah developed a four-part conceptualization of sin (and, therefore, repentance) that was articulated more fully by Eleazar of Worms. The four categories are known as teshuvat hagader—preventative repentance; teshuvat hamishkal—weighted repentance; teshuvat hekatuv—scriptural repentance; and teshuvat haba’ah—anticipatory repentance.¹⁶³ Fasting was an intrinsic component of repentance, as sinners sought atonement through fasts that extended over lengthy periods—even weeks, months, or years. Anyone who had committed a grave sin was also expected to wear black clothing and to give charity. In some cases, transgressors were directed to submit themselves to lashings, to shave their heads, and to exhibit other signs of remorse.¹⁶⁴ Sins that involved men having inappropriate sexual contact with women (e.g., adultery and intercourse with a menstruant) are featured prominently among the misdeeds that required harsher forms of repentance. Transgressions such as desecrating the Sabbath, gossip, and murder also demanded more severe expressions of contrition.¹⁶⁵

In his analysis, Marcus highlights substantive differences between the systems set forth by Judah and Eleazar of Worms.¹⁶⁶ One distinguishing feature of Judah’s system is what Marcus describes as its sectarian nature, which required initiation for membership in his circle of Ashkenazic pietists.¹⁶⁷ In contrast, Marcus stresses the personal nature of Eleazar’s mode of instruction for pious atonement, channeled through self-perfection rather than a group experience.¹⁶⁸ One of the most explicit modifications is the apparent elimination of the Sage (hakham) in the role of confessor, which was introduced in Judah’s system but absent from the writings of Eleazar. Instead, admission of sin was transferred to the realm of private prayer and the determination of appropriate punishment was similarly assigned to the individual. Rather than mentioning a sage or guide, Eleazar produced a manual on repentance for individuals to consult.¹⁶⁹ Despite these distinctions, Eleazar maintains the primacy of fasting as an act of atonement.

Let us now survey the circumstances in which these rabbis advised that fasts be undertaken. In Sefer Hasidim, Judah recommends fasting in numerous contexts: fasts associated with communal observances and in memory of beloved family members on the anniversaries of their deaths are mentioned alongside fasts by parents of sick children and single individuals in search of a marriage partner.¹⁷⁰ He advises fasting regularly to safeguard an appropriate posture of piety and humility toward God.¹⁷¹ He further explains that fasting is effective precisely because it “breaks the body.”¹⁷²

Judah also mentions other situations that merit fasting. Not all are directly related to repentance, although most probably included a penitential aspect. For instance, “One who witnesses an eclipse—of the moon, for example—must fast. After all, he would fast after a bad dream and this is for the sake of the whole world.”¹⁷³ Here, fasting is intended to ward off punishment since eclipses were thought to result from sin.¹⁷⁴ Although the practice of fasting is rarely critiqued in Sefer Hasidim, the motives for fasts are questioned. For instance, in discussions of parents fasting for the sake of their children: “Witness how many fasts, [expressions of] self-denial,¹⁷⁵ cries and pleas a parent performs when his son falls ill, because of concern for his son’s body. Surely he should do at least as much if [his son] sins, for the soul’s well-being is eternal.”¹⁷⁶ Here neither fasts nor self-denial are being scrutinized, but rather their underlying motives if these practices were performed for the sake of physical welfare rather than spiritual elevation.

In Sefer Hasidim, rituals for repentance after committing a grave sin involved not only fasting but also harsh corporal punishment, such as sitting in freezing water in the winter or on hornets’ or ants’ nests in the summer, or burning oneself with red-hot irons,¹⁷⁷ per the case of an adulterer: “If he inquires about how to repent … in the winter and [the river is frozen], he should break through the ice and sit in the water up to his mouth or nose for the same span of time from when he first addressed the woman until the sin’s completion.”¹⁷⁸ The inclusion of self-inflicted suffering in is an inherent element of the philosophy of Judah the Pious that has textual roots in the interpretation of Adam’s repentance in Tractate Eruvin (above).¹⁷⁹

Eleazar of Worms details physical repentance rituals for many specific sins, such as murder:

[In the case of] one who struck his companion—man, woman or child—and thus took his life, [the offender] should be exiled for three years. He should be flagellated and declare: “I am a murderer” in every city he visits. He should refrain from eating meat and drinking wine, from shaving his beard and the hair on his head, from laundering his clothes and washing his body. Washing his beard once a month is permitted. He should attach the hand that dealt the lethal blow to a chain looped around his neck.¹⁸⁰ He should go barefoot and mourn his victim, fasting daily until his period of exile is complete. He should then fast on Mondays and Thursdays for an additional year, even though he will already have fasted every day for three years. He should not do evil to any man. Should he be called a murderer, he should not argue. Rather, he should remain silent. Throughout those three years, he should not laugh (rejoice). When he leaves synagogue each day, he should lie down before the entryway; [all who exit] should step over him, never stepping on him. He should honor his wife and all persons and confess daily.¹⁸¹

And the case of a Jew who informed on another Jew to Christian authorities:

[In the case of] one who informs (malshin): one who informs against a neighbor, [thus] setting governmental officials against him … (the sinner) should pay (the victim) all (losses incurred as a result of his) action, he should also become his permanent servant, publicly ask forgiveness, be flagellated and confess as though [the informer] had killed all (of his neighbor’s) sons, daughters and (other) dependents.¹⁸²

Anyone who followed these instructions was inevitably exposed before the entire community. While such severe modes of repentance were related to extreme transgressions, in the communal perception of repentance they shared many features with normative fasts.

As Marcus has shown, Eleazar of Worms often heightened the severity of the penitential requirements set forth by Judah. To name one representative example, whereas Judah prescribed a three-day fast to any Jewish man who had sexual relations with a Christian woman or maidservant, Eleazar required flagellation, refraining from bathing, and fasting for at least forty days.¹⁸³ These physical forms of repentance became very popular.¹⁸⁴

Marcus has argued that in Judah’s generation, these penitential rituals were only intended for a discrete circle of pietists. It appears that the effect of these rituals was substantially greater than has typically been assumed. I would claim that Judah and his disciple Eleazar of Worms were successful precisely because they were promoting fasting and repentance in an environment known for its predisposition toward these rituals.

Ashkenazic liturgy also attests to the crucial place of fasting in medieval culture and the interpretation of fasting as the quintessence of teshuvah. As in other religions, the triad of charity, prayer, and fasting was viewed as the most efficacious path to salvation. In medieval Ashkenaz, this belief was most prominently conveyed in Netaneh Tokef, the piyyut that became a signature of the High Holiday prayers. This liturgical poem from late antiquity was part of a tale about Amnon of Mainz that was popularized in the late twelfth or early thirteenth century.¹⁸⁵ The apex of the poem, “and repentance and prayer and charity remove the evil decree” (uteshuvah utefillah utzedakah ma’avirin et ro’a hagezerah) offers guidance on becoming worthy of a positive inscription in the Book of Life. As some scholars have noted, this formula can be traced to a section in Midrash Bereshit Rabbah, a late antique midrash that was composed at approximately the same time as the Augustinian sermon (noted above), which asserts that fasting, charity, and prayer lead to salvation.¹⁸⁶

Menahem Schmelzer has traced the versions of this most resonant line of Netaneh Tokef that have appeared over time, remarking that compilers of medieval mahzorim debated over the correct sequence of these three terms. Some objected to the conventional order that begins with teshuvah, since “prayer, charity, and repentance” is the sequence found in the midrash and in the Palestinian Talmud. Jacob Moellin (Maharil) defended the prevailing liturgical progression by explaining that true teshuvah, repentance that is integrated with prayer and charity, must necessarily follow fasting.¹⁸⁷ Some scribes copied not just these three terms, but their meanings as well: identifying teshuvah as fasting, tefillah as use of the voice, and tzedakah as money. These definitions were further supported by mathematical calculations using Jewish numerology (gematriah).¹⁸⁸

Although the association of teshuvah with fasting (rather than with a broader definition of repentance) in commentaries on the High Holiday liturgy seems to have emerged in the late medieval period, it is based on fasting as a simile for teshuvah and as a consistent component of medieval repentance in sources such as the Crusade chronicles, Sefer Hasidim and Sefer Rokeah. Thus, despite the central role of Judah the Pious and Eleazar of Worms in the popularization of fasting for repentance, I would argue that this practice had strong currency outside their circle. Moreover, although the Confessor-Sage uniquely featured in the writings by Judah the Pious on repentance was soon replaced by personal confession, many thirteenth- and fourteenth-century responsa mention transgressors who sought rabbinic counsel on how to repent for their actions. While these sources do not describe formal confessions, in some cases it seems that the authority being asked for advice was expected to treat that discussion of sin confidentially.¹⁸⁹

Eleazar’s composition Hilkhot Teshuvah was frequently copied in late medieval and early modern Europe, albeit in different formats, yielding distinct versions of the treatise that were copied and disseminated well into the early modern period.¹⁹⁰ Eleazar’s writings on repentance reached northern France through Isaac b. Joseph of Corbeil who, as noted above, was known for his stringent fasting.¹⁹¹ Isaac incorporated ideas from Hilkhot Teshuvah into his popular handbook of customs that have been described as “semi-ritual practices,” Sefer Amudei Golah (known more widely as Sefer Mitzvot Katan). This guide was composed for men and women in a style that aims at the less educated reader and attests to the prominence of these practices during the late thirteenth century.

Isaac’s Sefer Mitzvot Katan features notions from Maimonides’s Hilkhot Teshuvah and quotations from Moses b. Jacob of Coucy’s Sefer Mitzvot Gadol. However, Isaac supplements those teachings with verbatim selections from Eleazar’s Hilkhot Teshuvah, with a recapitulation of his four categories of repentance.¹⁹² Isaac explains:

The order of repentance is thus: In the case of a public sin, one should request forgiveness publicly. In the case of a private sin, one should request forgiveness from his Creator (lit., “between himself and his Creator,” meaning privately). There are four kinds of repentance: teshuvat hagader, teshuvat hakatuv, teshuvat hamishkal, and teshuvat haharatah. Repentance is so great and exalted that it reaches the holy throne (kise hakavod), as it is written: “Return O Israel, to the Lord your God, for you have fallen on account of your sin” (Hosea 14:1).¹⁹³

In his commentary on Sefer Mitzvot Katan, Peretz b. Elijah explains each category in greater detail, quoting examples from Eleazar’s work. This supports the claim that French rabbinical scholars in Corbeil were well versed in the penitential system promoted by the German scholars. Ephraim Kanarfogel has suggested that the rabbis of Evreux—the center of learning where Isaac studied—were similarly conversant with these texts.¹⁹⁴ The main contribution found in the northern French sources on repentance is the distinction drawn between two types of confession, for public offenses and for private deeds. While Sefer Mitzvot Katan does not describe how such confessions should be conducted, other contemporaneous sources detail that these rituals entailed fasting, along with charity and prayer.¹⁹⁵

Northern French halakhic compendia discuss fasting in many contexts. For instance, Peretz criticizes those who fasted in response to the death of a family member, scolding anyone whose abstinence was prompted by circumstances unrelated to repentance.¹⁹⁶ Peretz summarizes his position by stating: “Regarding one whose mourning incorporates fasting to atone for his sins, it has been written: ‘I note how they fare and will heal them: I will guide them and mete out solace to them and to the mourners among them’ [Is. 57:18].”¹⁹⁷ This discussion suggests that some mourners fasted as a means of expressing grief rather than as a way to better their own souls, a practice that contradicts the commonly endorsed motivations for fasting. Peretz also reprimanded anyone whose fast caused bodily harm.¹⁹⁸

Twelfth- and thirteenth-century halakhic compendia and biblical commentaries from northern France describe men and women performing penitential fasts that corroborate those prescribed by halakhic authorities such as Isaac of Corbeil and Peretz.¹⁹⁹ So, too, a Tosafist commentary on Tractate Avodah Zarah mentions a man who fasted often, without reference to anything else about him.²⁰⁰ The widespread practice of fasting on Mondays and Thursdays is assumed in another text where Peretz is asked whether a community member who does not observe that pattern of fasts could be called to the Torah; Peretz concludes that this synagogue honor may be bestowed on the condition that the individual in question promises to make up for his missed fasts.²⁰¹ In the fourteenth century, Jacob b. Asher (son of Rosh, 1269–1343) remarked that fasting on Mondays and Thursdays was customary for German and northern French Jews, in contrast to the Jews of Spain who only practiced communal fasts that were part of the annual calendar.²⁰²

Penitential fasts are also mentioned in commentaries on Genesis. By way of illustration, when discussing Reuben’s role in selling Joseph, the medieval commentators follow a late antique midrash when they explain that Reuben was absent when Joseph was sold to the Ishmaelites because he was fasting for his sin with Bilhah, his father’s concubine. Reuben is literally described as “fasting and wearing his sackcloth.”²⁰³ This midrashic explanation is recounted in medieval commentaries from Germany and France.²⁰⁴

Although books such as Sefer Rokeah and Sefer Mitzvot Katan were written with the aim of equipping individuals to determine their repentant actions independently, rabbis were still consulted for guidance on how to atone. Such queries were so common that rabbis are known to have developed standard responses, as witnessed in responsa that prescribe repentant behavior after specific sins. Desecration of the Sabbath is a recurrent topic in the penitential literature by Judah and Eleazar as well as in writings by other thirteenth-century halakhic authorities. For example, relating to behavior required when a fire broke out and was then extinguished on the Sabbath, Isaac b. Moses discusses whether repentance and fasting are required, since putting out a fire constitutes a desecration of the Sabbath. According to Jewish law, this action is permissible if it saved lives, but it is considered a violation of the Sabbath if lives were not at risk, as Isaac explained:

[In a case] when Jews extinguished a fire (on the Sabbath) where it was unclear whether lives were endangered.²⁰⁵ [Those who put the fire out] need not fast or give charity because of their deed, for they were acting with [divine] permission. Even if they wanted to give charity on that account, the court does not permit it, for if they did, in the future they might not respond to fires [or other dangers] in the same way. Some say they should fast because of this [deed], and in the event of another fire, they would instruct them to extinguish it and then fast … but as I have said, in my eyes the law should instruct that even if they wish to fast because of this [deed], they should be dissuaded from doing so lest they abstain from extinguishing a second fire (in the future).²⁰⁶

Here it seems that community members wanted to fast after having put out a fire on the Sabbath, whereas their rabbis ruled this fast unnecessary, lest this expression of repentance deter Jews from extinguishing future fires on the Sabbath.

Fasting as a means to seek atonement after violating the Sabbath is also mentioned in other sources.²⁰⁷ Samson b. Tzadok reports that Meir of Rothenburg instructed anyone who inadvertently desecrated the Sabbath to fast:

He says: One who unintentionally desecrated the Sabbath by bringing an object into the public [realm],²⁰⁸ by manipulating fire or in whatever manner should give five hallische dinars to charity to receive atonement … and it would also be appropriate if he fasted on Mondays and Thursdays, as is customary throughout the world to fast on the morrow of the Sabbath (Sunday) for desecrating the Sabbath.²⁰⁹

This instruction for repentance is outstanding for its exactitude in specifying the exact monetary sum to be contributed, and for its reference to these actions as standard practice, “as is customary throughout the world.”

Another case of repentance for desecrating the Sabbath is addressed in a responsum attributed to Samuel b. Isaac (late thirteenth century):²¹⁰

Once a woman was riding with a certain Jewish man through the city of Barby on a Friday.²¹¹ This Jewish woman could not remain in that city for the Sabbath because she feared that if her presence were known, non-Jews would seize her. So she rode on to Zerbst. It became dark on the way, but they rode on to that city even though they were desecrating the Sabbath. I asked my teacher, Samuel b. Isaac, to give her instructions [on how to repent]. He replied that they should fast for forty days, but they need not be stringent and fast consecutively. Rather, they should fast on Mondays and Thursdays each week—except on the New Moon and other festivals—until they reached [a total of] forty days. This is sufficient since they were coerced.²¹²

Here a woman and her male travel companion sought counsel on how to atone for their transgression, indicating their awareness that repentance was needed. Samuel required identical actions for the man and the woman.

In another source, Isaac b. Moses discusses improper conduct regarding Sabbath candles, a desecration that specifically pertains to women. He mentions women who fasted if they had touched the wax of a Sabbath candle during the Sabbath, to repent for their violation of that holy day.²¹³ A century later, Jacob Moellin (Maharil) was asked how his niece should atone for having forgotten to light the Sabbath candles one Friday evening. He responded: “[On every Sabbath eve] for the rest of her life, she should assiduously add one candle beyond her customary number.²¹⁴ When her fast occurs (ukeshe’era ta’anitah), she should be sure to confess this sin. [Furthermore,] if she wishes to obligate herself [to] fasts and to torment herself in order be granted atonement, may she be blessed.”²¹⁵ This responsum integrates individual confession, as promoted by Eleazar of Worms, with normative fasting. Maharil’s words suggest that Jewish women and men would customarily adopt additional fasts and other “torments” as components of repentance.

In a responsum of a case that occurred in London, Jacob b. Judah Hazan (thirteenth century) relates the case of a woman who sought guidance from Menahem on how to repent after having committed adultery. She was told that her husband must divorce her, but that she should not receive her ketubbah; however, we have no record of penitent actions that Menahem might have recommended.²¹⁶ In a different angle on marital strife, Haim Barukh is said to have instructed a woman who had angered her husband to fast for three days.²¹⁷

Another category of responsa relates to women who fasted following what might be termed “crib death.” These rabbinic opinions—with many attributed to Meir b. Barukh of Rothenburg and his colleagues—were published in 2012 by Simcha Emanuel. In these cases, after it was discovered that an infant had died in its parents’ bed, the rabbis prescribed deeds of repentance based on the talmudic punishments for an intentional killing. Although these medieval texts sometimes cite ge’onic rulings as precedents for their recommendations, there is no extant evidence of such penitent behavior from that era. Here is one response attributed to Meir himself:

Maharam (Meir b. Barukh of Rothenburg) was asked about [the case of] a woman who lay on her son, causing his death: How she should repent? He required her to fast for a full year, without eating meat or drinking wine²¹⁸ with the exception of Sabbaths, festivals, the New Moon, Hanukkah and Purim, when [not only] should she refrain from fasting but she should eat meat and drink wine. For those holidays and New Moons and Hanukkah and Purim that she does not fast, she should fast on the same number of additional days until she has completed a 365-day fast. From that point onward, she should fast every second week—[that is to say] on a Monday-Thursday-Monday cycle every other week—as her strength allows, though she may eat meat and drink wine. When she is pregnant or nursing, she should not fast. And she should be cautious for the remainder of her days, that her son will never lie with her again.²¹⁹

This case offers a vivid depiction of what constituted penitent behavior and a careful calculation of the fast days required to complete a full course of repentance.

A second responsum, attributed to Elhanan b. Samuel from Magdeburg (late thirteenth century),²²⁰ provides further data on how these fasts were calculated. Elhanan also recommends fifty-two weeks of Monday and Thursday fasts. Knowing that some of those days would coincide with holidays, he explains:

And all the Mondays and Thursdays that she does not fast, she must make up for during the next year. It is recommended that she have a small piece of wood (tablet/stick) that she would mark on each Monday and Thursday when she does not fast until the end of the year, when she should total up the marks. With another piece of wood [as a measure], she should make up for that number of missed Monday and Thursday fasts. Each time she fasts [during that second year], she should mark the [second piece of] wood until it has same number of markings that appear on the first piece of wood.²²¹

Elhanan also clarifies his instruction against drinking wine: “Since we drink thick ale, she should not drink thick ale but thin ale instead and she should wash but twice a month.” Unique among responsa, this passage reveals an otherwise unknown element of medieval material culture—marking wood as a way to calculate time.

More moderate forms of repentant behavior have been attributed to Haim Paltiel, who recommended that pregnant women should not fast, lest their actions induce a miscarriage. He allows three options for fasting: three consecutive days and nights, forty uninterrupted days, or on Mondays and Thursdays for one year. In addition, he recommends giving charity.²²²

Our third and final example on this subject comes from an anonymous rabbi who raises an important proviso, noting that only healthy women who were neither pregnant nor nursing are qualified to fast: “Only if her husband wishes her to fast. If she is young and she is unaccustomed to fasting, let her fast on Mondays and Thursdays until she fulfills [the equivalent of] a yearlong fast.”²²³ These instructions suggest that young mothers,²²⁴ as opposed to older women, may not have been accustomed to fasting.²²⁵

Married women who wronged their husbands might have been advised to fast as a means of repentance; however, these women still needed their husbands’ permission to take on any vow, even for a fast of this nature. This provision is evident in the anonymous responsum cited above, which specifies “and only if her husband wishes her to fast.”²²⁶ This stipulation originates in the Bible: “If a man makes a vow to the Lord or takes an oath imposing an obligation on himself, he shall not break his pledge; he must carry out everything that his crossed his lips.”²²⁷ The passage continues by listing three categories of women and their relative levels of agency when making vows: if a woman is unmarried, her father has the power to absolve her vows; if she is married, her husband can nullify her vows; a widow or divorced woman may bind herself without a man’s consent. As the biblical text states:

Each and every vow and sworn obligation of self-denial may be upheld or annulled by her husband. If her husband offers no objection from one day to the next, he has upheld all of the vows and obligations that she has assumed; he has upheld them by offering no objection when he learned about them. However, if he annuls them after [the day] he finds out [about her vows and obligations], he shall bear her guilt.²²⁸

The vows of self-denial described here are categorized in the Mishnah and Talmud as “vows that torment the soul” (nidrei inui nefesh) and include fasting, abstaining from sexual relations, refraining from wearing brightly colored clothing, and other behaviors considered normative on fast days and in times of danger.²²⁹ In a ruling attributed to Peretz, such an incident is discussed:

[In the case of] a woman who vowed not to eat on a particular day whose husband did not annul her vow, rather he traveled to another city and, before his departure, he warned her not to fast, but without naming a specific day. Since her husband demonstrated that he did not wish her to fast, the rabbis may permit her (to annul her vow) without her husband [being present]. But had he not revealed (his opinion), I doubt that her vow could be annulled without her husband [being present].²³⁰

This passage does not reveal the motivation for this woman’s fast, but this was certainly not the first time she made such a vow.²³¹ It is obvious that her husband had been trying to prevent her from this practice, exercising his prerogative based on the biblical passage above. Once again we see that the community was generally aware of who was fasting and, moreover, that their actions could be considered disruptive.

If we compare this documentation of women who fasted often to descriptions of their male counterparts, gendered qualifications begin to emerge. The Tosafist commentary on Tractate Avodah Zarah recounts:

A question²³² came before Rabbenu Tam about one who fasted many times without declaring his fasts in advance. Rabbenu Tam determined that he did not “lose” his fasts if he meant to fast, meaning that if he committed himself in his heart … even though he had not stated [his intention] with his lips (in prayer)…. Rabbenu Tam added that, even if he had not decided in his heart [to fast] until the evening before,²³³ he was permitted to fast and recite the liturgy for fasts, fulfilling his vow as if he had articulated it on the previous day…. It is preferable to publicly declare [one’s] fast during afternoon prayers (minhah) on the preceding day. When Isaac (of Dampierre) fasted on a Sunday, he would proclaim his fast on the Sabbath during his recitation of the ’Elohai Netzor prayer.²³⁴

This explanation relies on the same verses in Numbers that spell out the limitations on women’s vows, stating that a vow must “cross the lips.” Our talmudic selection asks if one could be credited for a fast that had not been declared during the afternoon prayers immediately preceding the fast, as was customary. The text does not specify whether such vows were usually made silently or aloud. Jacob b. Meir (Rabbenu Tam) conceded that pledging to fast in advance was preferable, but he was willing to accept fasts that were not declared beforehand because, as Peretz remarked when discussing this same topic, “decisions made by the heart (and not announced) are also decisions.”²³⁵ The divergent attitudes toward frequent fasting by men and women can be explained at least in part by their differing levels of authority to swear vows. Men had the agency to pledge themselves to fasts, whereas single and married women were dependent on approval from their fathers or husbands, respectively.

In sum, the textual evidence resoundingly indicates that medieval Jews fasted often and that piety was commonly attributed to those who fasted with outstanding frequency. While the roots of this practice originate in the Bible and the legacy from late antiquity, the penitential structure that was articulated by Judah the Pious and his followers reinforced the role of fasting, repentance, and the reputation for piety that accompanied it in Germany and northern France.²³⁶ Given that outward displays of repentance were readily visible even if the sin that preceded them was not publicly declared, it is inconceivable that such behavior could go by without being noticed by family and community members.

Those who fasted also added liturgical formulae and supplications to their regular prayers, which might not have been conspicuous in synagogue services, but if they were also flagellated in public or prostrated themselves when leaving the synagogue so others could step over them, the fact that they were fasting would have been self-evident, causing community members to be unavoidably aware and involved as participants in these practices of repentance.²³⁷ Let us now situate these Jewish practices within the majority Christian environment.

Jewish and Christian Fasting: A Comparative View

How might these changes in fasting and repentance practices among the Jews of medieval Ashkenaz be understood vis-à-vis their surrounding Christian society? As noted above, most scholars, whether intentionally or not, have skirted this question by rejecting any such comparison or, more commonly, by avoiding it altogether. For example, in her history of Megillat Ta’anit Batra, Shulamit Elizur presents forty-odd fasts that gained popularity in medieval Ashkenaz.²³⁸ Elizur suggests in passing that this list of fast days that commemorates biblical figures and significant events is reminiscent of the medieval Christian calendar, studded with saint’s days.²³⁹ However, she does not engage in this comparison in the main body of her study. She instead focuses on the textual tradition of Megillat Ta’anit Batra from its origins in late antique Palestine to its transmission and popularity in medieval Ashkenaz.²⁴⁰ Alternatively, scholars have assumed, much like the statement evident in Nicholas Donin’s claim against the Jews in mid-thirteenth-century Paris, that Christians fasted and Jews did not.

Figure 7. A family eating together. © Bibliothèque nationale de France. Ms héb. Paris, 1333, fol. 20b. Haggadah, fifteenth century.

Another group of scholars that has addressed medieval fasting, including Yaacov Gartner, Daniel Sperber, Meir Rafeld, and Ephraim Kanarfogel, analyze halakhic discussions of fasting from medieval Ashkenaz.²⁴¹ Their work is largely devoted to halakhic details and the prominence of frequent fasting among pious rabbinic leaders. Like Elizur, these authors attribute medieval Ashkenazic fasting practices to traditions from late antique Palestine. They each attend to internal Jewish routes of intellectual transmission without touching on the cultural milieu that enveloped medieval Jewish life. Grossman and Har-Shefi, along with Elizur, highlight rituals from late antique Palestine that resurfaced in twelfth- and thirteenth-century Ashkenaz.²⁴² Similarly, many scholars of Hasidei Ashkenaz have turned to late antique Palestinian traditions to explain the centrality of fasting within Sefer Hasidim and Sefer Rokeah.²⁴³

Admittedly, there are significant distinctions between Jewish and Christian understandings of penance. It is possible to point to four readily apparent differences. First, Eucharistic theology with penance as a concomitant requirement for participation in Mass lacks any equivalent in Judaism. A second difference concerns to celibacy, which had a role in some forms of penitent behavior among Christians and was an inherent feature of mendicant and cloistered life; however, celibacy had almost no place in the medieval Judaism of northern Europe.²⁴⁴ Confession is the third contrasting element. In Christian culture, confession has a clear juridical parallel and, as some scholars have shown, ideas of penance are often equated or infused with concepts of legal judgment and medical processes,²⁴⁵ so much so that developments in penitential theology have been explained by innovations in legal thought.²⁴⁶ Such similarities are less prevalent in Jewish writings due to the status of Jews and Jewish communities in medieval Europe. A final distinction between the two societies relates to models of approbation and emulation within medieval life. Judaism lacked the categories of saints and celibates who were known for their penance and were so esteemed within medieval Christian culture.

Despite these significant distinctions, I would argue that a comparison is possible nevertheless. While the contrast between extreme forms of Christian asceticism and medieval Jewish fasting practices was great, as I have demonstrated, routine and even frequent fasting belongs to the broader category of repentant practice without being inextricably tied to Eucharistic piety that characterized ascetic fasting and was separate from Jewish culture. That aspect of Christian piety did not impede the development of Jewish fasting practices within medieval Christian society at large.²⁴⁷

As outlined in the introduction, I suggest approaching this as a bricolage rather than trying to determine whether fasting practices were “Jewish” or “Christian” per se. Fasting as a religious practice of self-denial has been in wide circulation throughout history. Jews and Christians shared the notion that those who practiced severe self-denial deserved admiration. Jews did not need to accept celibacy, Eucharistic piety, or penitential theology to share this perspective. Medieval Jewish texts define a number of exemplary men and even a few women as pious (hasidim), ascetic (perushim), or righteous (tzaddikim) on the basis of their fasting practices. For instance, Isaac of Dampierre was referred to as a hasid, as were other rabbis who fasted regularly.²⁴⁸ Women and men who fasted during the High Holiday period were called hasidim and tzaddikim as well.²⁴⁹