Copyright 2024 by Joseph Shulam
In many of the ancient cities and villages of Portugal there still exists the Juderia, the Street of the Jews, which is to this day lined with old gray granite doorways that still carry the scars of the mezuzahs that at one time adorned the doors of these Jewish homes. In some cities, the old synagogues that the Jewish communities used before the Inquisition are now being discovered, excavated, and restored.
Crosses carved on the doorways are not-so-silent witnesses of the horrors of the Inquisition. These crosses were carved on the doors of the “New Christians” (Marranos), those Jews who were forced to convert to Catholicism, to mark their homes as places that needed to be watched and observed to see if they were still practicing any semblance of their old faith, Judaism. The old Jewish buildings at times were also decorated with symbols particular to the Jewish community: birds, strange crosses, crosses with ladders, Hebrew letters, and at times even lions or elephants. The meaning of these symbols was essentially a mystery that the Jews did not want to share with their Christian neighbors for fear of the Inquisition.
Recently, on a visit to the village of Carçao in the area of Trás-os-Montes, I saw a big, old stone lintel resting on two ancient walls. The lintel was turned on its side so that the first visible image was a cross deeply carved into the face of the stone. Upon closer inspection, however, one could also see a bird-like figure and even another cross flanked by two birds.
The underside of the stone had an animal figure that at first appeared to be a lion, but after a more careful examination, it actually looked much more like an elephant. My curiosity peaked immediately to find out more about this lintel and the meaning of the symbols carved on it. The size, age, and unique carvings on this stone make it peculiar and significant.
These symbols have a special meaning meant to be understood only by the Marranos and no one else. For this reason, they are enigmatic symbols that need a special explanation. By the Middle Ages it was common for both Jews and Christians to use animals in their art as religious symbols, and to tell fables and allegories about animals with moral lessons.
There are some important differences in the interpretation and symbolism that Jews and Christians assigned to the various animals in their art and fables, however, even if they did start with many of the same basic plot lines and characters. Marc Epstein, a scholar of Jewish medieval art, says that when one notes these differences carefully, “A rich and fascinating tapestry unfurls itself before us, a tapestry depicting a territory of the imagination where lions carve stones, hares triumph over hunters, elephants herald the reappropriation of cultural treasures, all-powerful dragons become tamed playthings, and the horn of salvation is raised from the dust; where the breath of every living thing praises God and speaks for Israel.”1
First we will deal with the birds, because many medieval Jewish documents and architecture depict birds, some of which have bird heads on top of human bodies. This figure, wearing a Jewish hat, in a detail of a medieval Hebrew calendar, reminded Jews of the palm branch (lulav), the myrtle twigs, the willow branches, and the citron (etrog) which Jews wave on Sukkot. The face of this Jew is a bird’s head with a beak.
Why are bird representations popular in Jewish medieval and synagogue art? The most common scholarly explanation is that the birds’ heads on the human bodies were supposed to distort the image enough to make it clear that the artist was not violating the Second Commandment against making graven images. Some Jewish manuscripts portrayed full male figures but gave the female figures birds’ heads, which was probably supposed to be for the sake of modesty. These bird heads on human figures up until now have almost exclusively been found in Ashkenazi Jewish art, especially manuscripts from Germany, 2 so their discovery in Portugal as well is a very interesting development.
I would like to suggest another possible explanation that stems from a word play between Portuguese and Hebrew. The birds on the Carçao lintel are very likely cranes/storks or herons, called “garcera” in Spanish and “garça” in Portuguese, which is derived from the Spanish/Latin word “gracia,” which means grace. In Hebrew grace is “hessed,” and one of the largest birds that passes over the land of Israel is a type of “garça” (in Portuguese) or “hassida” (in Hebrew), i.e. the stork/crane. In Hebrew, a righteous and Godfearing person is called a “hasid,” which is from the same root as “hassida,” the crane or stork.
To summarize all this multi-lingual confusion, “garça” (stork) reminds us of “gracia” (grace), which is “hessed” in Hebrew, which also gives us the Hebrew word for a righteous person, “hasid,” leading us back to the stork, “hassida” in Hebrew. Word plays like this are an important way of connecting and identifying ideas with one another in Jewish interpretation.
This metaphor of storks and righteousness in the medieval European Jewish mindset was connected with Jeremiah 8:5-7:
“Why has this people slidden back, Jerusalem, in a perpetual backsliding? They hold fast to deceit; they refuse to return. I listened and heard, but they do not speak aright. No man repented of his wickedness, saying, ‘What have I done?’ Everyone turned to his own course, as the horse rushes into the battle. Even the stork in the heavens knows her appointed times; and the turtledove, the swift, and the swallow observe the time of their coming. But My people do not know the judgment of the Lord.”
Another important text along these same lines appears in Deuteronomy 33:8-9,
“And of Levi he said: ‘Let Your Thummim and Your Urim be with Your righteous ones [“hasidecha”, interpreted as “the Levites”] whom You tested at Massah, and with whom You contended at the waters of Meribah, who says of his father and mother, “I have not seen them.” Nor did he acknowledge his brothers, or know his own children; for they have observed Your word and kept Your covenant.’”
These birds on the lintel stone in Carçao are a statement of resistance, symbolizing both hope for deliverance from Catholicism and Christian oppression and an acknowledgement of their brotherhood and common destiny with the rest of the Jewish people. Another important matter concerns the relationship of these birds to the cross on the lintel. The picture carved into the stone shows their heads down, and they are posed in an attitude of submission or conformity.
One could hypothesize that these birds are worshipping the cross and are submitted to it, but it is also possible that they are kneeling to the cross under compulsion and are unhappy about their state. One must also note that the stand upon which the cross is set in this carving looks like a menorah stand, which could possibly convey a message that although the cross is a symbol of oppression, it too is Jewish in origin. This might sound far-fetched, but under oppressive conditions people often have ambivalent attitudes, even toward their oppressors.
Turning now to the lion or elephant, we must note that many ancient and medieval synagogues traditionally had bird and lion symbols on or around the Holy Ark. Medieval Jewish midrash associated the birds around the Ark both with the Levites who transported the Ark of the Covenant and the two Cherubim figures that stood on top of the Ark of the Covenant in the Tabernacle.3
As for lions, they commonly symbolize royalty, strength, power, justice, guardianship, dominion, and courage. “In addition to being a symbol of physical strength, the lion represents spiritual strength, especially scholarship.”4 Most importantly for Jews, however, lions symbolize the tribe of Judah and the Davidic Kingdom.
Archaeologists have found lions adorning synagogues from as early as the Third Century synagogue of Dura Europus in Syria. The synagogue of Hammat Tiberia (circa 1380 CE), south of the city of Tiberias on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, contains several mosaics of lions. In fact, lions appear in Byzantine (and slightly earlier) synagogues all over the Land of Israel, including Bar-Am, Beit Alfa, Korazin, Beit Shean, Ein Samsum, and Jericho, as well as in the Diaspora, because lions had a particular importance to the Jewish people over the ages.
Lions were a symbol of the hope of Israel and the revival of the Davidic/Messianic Kingdom promised by the prophets. Lions also connected with the story of Daniel in the lion’s den, as a symbol of resistance and survival during the challenges of oppression.5 This motif becomes very important when used in a situation of oppression, discrimination, and persecution such as the Spanish and Portuguese Inquisitions.
On the other hand, the carved animal on the bottom of the Carçao lintel stone might not be a lion at all. At first glance it appeared to be a lion, but when I looked at the picture again it looked much more like an elephant, because of its long nose and elephant-like head. Elephants are not very common in synagogue decorations and have not been commonly recognized as Jewish symbols.
The Hebrew word for elephant, “pil,” never even occurs in the Bible, although it seems that 1 Kings 10:22 and 2 Chronicles 9:21 indirectly mention them in discussing the ivory that Solomon imported.6 1 Maccabees recounts the story of a battle in which the Greek army used elephants (sort of like an ancient tank) against the Jews in Israel.
When I started researching this idea, I was surprised at how many times elephants appear in rabbinic literature, usually as a metaphor for the largest possible animal, “from the elephant to the gnat.”7There are a few medieval synagogues in which elephants appear in a very prominent position right next to the holy ark. Among other Jewish manuscript decorations containing elephants, the Worms Machzor, a festival prayer book completed in 1272 and now housed in the Hebrew University Library in Jerusalem, has a color plate (number VII) of a magnificent elephant right on the opening page.
An early example of an elephant in a Jewish context is a mosaic floor in the Sixth Century synagogue of Ma’on at Nirin, Israel. Domesticated elephants wearing saddles are featured among other familiar symbols from the natural world and Jewish ceremonial symbols like a menorah, a lulav and etrog, lions, palm trees, and free and caged birds. In an 18th Century synagogue in what was formerly Poland, now Lithuania, and in a 17th Century synagogue at Hordova (Ukraine), elephants are paired next to a depiction of the ark of the Torah.
The paired animal motif is common but usually features birds or lions. It is difficult to explain the presence of the elephants, since they are so far from the cultural or geographic context of European Jews. Therefore, we need to seek possible allegorical or mystical reasons for their use. Elephants were better known as Christian symbols than Jewish ones, but it seems that when used in a Jewish context the elephant symbolizes the Torah and its strength, power, and greatness.8
Here is one interesting medieval Christian parable from the Cambridge Bestiary about an elephant, in which the elephant symbolizes the weakness and sinful nature of humanity:
“The elephant’s nature is that if he tumbles down he cannot get up again. Hence it comes that he leans against a tree when he wants to go to sleep, for he has no joints in his knees. This is the reason why a hunter partly saws through a tree, so that the elephant, when he leans against it, may fall down at the same time as the tree. As he falls, he calls out loudly; and immediately a large elephant appears, but it is not able to lift him up. At this they both cry out, and twelve more elephants arrive upon the scene: but even they cannot lift up the one who has fallen down. Then they all shout for help, and at once there comes a very Insignificant Elephant, and he puts his mouth with the proboscis under the big one, and lifts him up… When the Big Elephant arrives, i.e. the Hebrew Law, and fails to lift up the fallen, it is the same as when the Pharisee failed with the fellow who had fallen among thieves. Nor could the Twelve Elephants, i.e. the Band of Prophets, lift him up, just as the Levite did not lift up the men we mentioned. But it means that Our Lord Jesus Christ, although he was the greatest, was made the Most Insignificant of All the Elephants. He humiliated himself and was made obedient even unto death, in order that he might raise men up.”9
The 12th Century Karaite scholar Yehudah Hadassi took this Christian parable and rewrote it in a way which polemicized against rabbinic Jews, with the fallen elephant symbolizing those who followed the Oral Law. Then in the 13th Century, Rabbi Berechiah HaNakdan adapted this story further in his book Mishlei Shualim (Fables of Foxes).
In this version, when the elephant hunter cannot succeed alone, he captures the beast with the help of friends, covers the elephant’s head with his coat, and rides it into villages in order to terrify the inhabitants into fleeing the “demon,” leaving all their treasures behind for him and his friends to rob and pillage. This clever thief then offers to “exorcise” the demon from the terrified towns in exchange for half of their riches. The people agree to pay the price, and their fate changes.
After an extended and complex analysis of this fable, Epstein proposes this interpretation:
“Christianity, personified by Esau the hunter, at first attempts to combat and destroy the Torah. When this fails, the Church enlists the aid of many scholars and interpreters (the people of the town) to ‘master the Law’ and triumphalistically [sic] terrify the opponents of Christianity (the Jews), gathering up their intellectual treasures - even those which were most secretly hidden - and lording it over them… Ultimately, the Christians reject half of their newfound wealth (the teachings of the Oral Law), but the riches they have gained through their corrupt use of the Torah (the exegesis of the Written Law), they keep for themselves.”10
In all of these tales, the elephant is symbolic of the Torah.
Whether or not the carving on the underside of the Carçao lintel is an elephant or a lion, it had a special Jewish meaning to the Marranos who carved it. By making these symbols, they were expressing their identity as Jews in hiding, who had been forced to submit to the cross physically, but who would never forget who they were, or their hope for a time when they could freely choose their religious acts and beliefs. These carvings expressed their pain, while simultaneously giving them strength and hope for a future of freedom and joy.
Epstein, Marc Michael. Dreams of Subversion in Medieval Jewish Art and Literature. University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1997, p. 118.
Gutmann, Joseph, Evelyn M. Cohen, Menachem Schmelzer, and Malachi Beit-Arie. “An Introduction to Hebrew Manuscripts,” Session 3. “The Decoration of Medieval Hebrew Manuscripts.” Found on July 29, 2010 at http://www.fathom.com/course/72810016/session3.html and “The Birds’ Head Haggadah.” Jewish Heritage Online Magazine. Found on July 29, 2010 at http://jhom.com/topics/birds/haggadah.htm.
Epstein, p. 58.
Frankel, Ellen and Betsy Platkin Teutsch. "Lion." Encyclopedia of Jewish Symbols. London: Jason Aronson Inc., 1995, pp. 98-100.
For examples of such texts in the Bible see: Gen. 49:9 “Judah is a lion’s whelp; from the prey, my son, you have gone up. He bows down, he lies down as a lion; and as a lion, who shall rouse him?” or Jer. 49:19 “Behold, he shall come up like a lion from the floodplain of the Jordan against the dwelling place of the strong; but I will suddenly make him run away from her. And who is a chosen man that I may appoint over her? For who is like Me? Who will arraign Me? And who is that shepherd Who will withstand Me?” In the NT see 2 Tim. 4:17 “But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me, so that the message might be preached fully through me, and that all the Gentiles might hear, and I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion.”
Hyvernat, Henry and Emil G. Hirsch, “Elephant,” Jewish Encyclopedia. Vol. 5. London: Funk and Wagnalls, 1901-1906, p. 105.
See the following references in Rabbinic Literature: b. Berachot 56b, 58b; b. Kidushin 25b, b. Baba Batra 22a, b; Menachot 69a; Midrash Leviticus 6:3; Psikta Rabbati p 20, etc.
Epstein, p. 44.
This English translation is taken from Epstein, pp. 41-43, who copied it from White, Theodore H. The Book of Beasts. New York, 1954.
Epstein, p. 53.