“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
