Talmud and the art of Ben-Zion and Marc Chagall

Noun [tahl-mood, -muhd, tal- ] Late Hebrew talmudh, literally, instruction. The collection of writings constituting the Jewish civil and religious law: it consists of two parts, the Mishnah (text) and the Gemara (commen-tary), but the term is sometimes restricted to the Gemara. (Webster’s New Twentieth Century Dictionary, second edition)

The title TALMUD is appropriate for this show that brings together the Biblical work of two of the most important Jewish artists of the 20th Century. Even though Talmud deals traditionally with text and not image, these images are commentaries on the text of Scripture in the best of the Talmudic tradition. Not only can this tradition continue as we meditate on the individual subjects of these works, but the Talmudic dialogue is also accomplished as we view the works of these two artists side by side. It is hoped that together, you and the artists will set in motion a joyous interchange of instruction and learning, perhaps even holy delight, that will not fade as you leave the gallery.

William Rubin recounts in his Modern Sacred Art and the Church of Assy the making of Jacque Lipchitz’s sculpture of the Virgin, and the artist’s thoughts on the subject. Himself a Jew, Lipchitz rejected the notion that a Buddhist sculpture could properly be placed in a Catholic church in the same way that Jewish sculpture might. Lipchitz said, “we belong to one Judeo-Christian Western Tradition. For me, it’s the same thing, a kind of direct continuation.”

In the same way, Christians understand that the Scriptures, both old and new, are a continuation. In fact, the accounts of the formation of the early church wrestle extensively with the problem of what to do with all the Gentiles who wanted to join the essentially Jewish Church—what was the Greek and Roman believer’s relationship to the laws and rituals of Judaism? As Jesus told the Samaritan woman who wanted healing for her child, “Salvation is of the Jews.” (John 4:22)

Steven Glucksberg, an artist friend of mine, is Jewish. We met when he sought me out after seeing a reproduction of my painting “Christ Whipped” in the Washington Post a number of years ago. It is a rich friendship that continues to grow because we both understand our faith and we are therefore able to relate to one another, “core to core, not fringe to fringe” as Chaim Potok has put it. We are able to acknowledge our differences instead of acting as though they don’t matter.

Of course, we do have much in common. For one thing, Steven and I both fervently await the Messiah. Jesus as the Messiah is the stumbling block between us; the point at which we disagree. As Steven says, “All I know is that when the Messiah comes, he will not die.” I counter, “But there was the Resurrection.” He says that there is a historical dispute among the rabbis as to whether the Messiah will come in gentleness or judgment. I say that we Christians have that covered—He came first in humility and will come again in judgment. Steven says that God promised Noah that he will never destroy the world again, but God never said that man would not destroy the world—it is up to us. I say that we Christians agree that destruction by flood is out, but God may do it by fire, even by giving free rein to our arrogance. And so it goes. We both agree that when the Messiah comes, in whatever manner that He might choose, He will complete the world—make it perfect.

It is hard to imagine a more kind and generous friend than Steven. As our families have celebrated the Passover Seder over the last years much depth and richness of understanding has been added to my faith. And I think that it is not unimportant that we met through Steven’s response to a painting with a core Christian subiect—the Passion of Jesus.

At times we talk about the Talmud. (Less orthodox Jews might say we “do Talmud,” or “create Talmud,” as they see Talmud as a process, an ongoing commentary on Scripture and the written law, but Steven eschews such liberalizing language.) Steven will see one of my paintings on a Biblical theme and we will comment on it from our respective traditions. He has taught me about angels and Jewish martyrs and has suggested subjects that I should consider. I have encouraged him to do paintings of the Scriptures and of Jewish life and worship, for I have sensed that it is there that my friend finds his true passion. In these discussions about art and religion and how the two relate to the meaning of Scripture, new understandings are reached and new insights are found. This may not be traditional Talmud, as we deal with images and not text, but I think that it is within the boundaries of the tradition of Talmud in the same way that the works of Ben-Zion and Marc Chagall are. There is a continuation not only between Jew and Christian in our discussions but also between image and text.

It is therefore quite fitting that as Christians Diane and I should have in our collection the works of Ben-Zion and Marc Chagall, both of whom give interpretive insights and instruction on the Biblical narrative. We prize these works all the more because of their witness not only to the continuity between the Jewish and Christian faiths but to the primacy of Biblical Truth—God’s Word to us—and the foundations the Scriptures lay for the coming of the Messiah. It is our hope that as you view these Biblical stories you will be able to continue, with much enjoyment, the Talmudic dialogue that these artists have begun.

—Edward Knippers