Philo-Judæus of Alexandria — A Closer Reading

A Philosopher Reclaimed for Judaism

Bentwich’s preface is a manifesto. He notes that Philo was neglected by the generations that followed him, while Church Fathers favored his writings and rabbis ignored them. The author explicitly states his purpose: to give a presentation of Philo from the Jewish standpoint. This is not a neutral biography but an argument that Philo’s work, though shaped by Greek philosophy, is essentially Jewish. Bentwich criticizes earlier non-Jewish scholars for emphasizing the least Jewish parts of Philo’s teaching, searching him for traces of Christian, neo-Platonic, or Stoic doctrines. He insists that Philo had an intensely strong Jewish feeling, even if his work also had another aspect that could be used to denationalize Judaism.

The evidence from the text supports this framing. Bentwich repeatedly ties Philo’s concepts back to Jewish sources: the Torah as the Logos, the manna as a symbol of divine inspiration, and the rabbinic glorification of the law as the primal creation of God. He presents Philo not as a weak-kneed eclectic but as a thinker who amplified simple poetical concepts from Jewish tradition and developed them afresh in the light of Greek ideas.

The Logos as a Unifying Concept

Central to Bentwich’s analysis is Philo’s Logos doctrine. He describes it as a crystal prism reflecting the light of the Godhead in myriad ways, encompassing the divine activity in the universe. Bentwich emphasizes that the Logos is not a separate being but the immanent manifestation of the One God, who is both transcendental and immanent. He contrasts this with Greek philosophical notions, arguing that Philo gave the Logos a religious warmth new to it by associating it with the word uttered by the personal God.

Bentwich illustrates this with Philo’s interpretation of the manna. In Exodus, the Israelites ask “What is it?” (manna in Hebrew). Philo sees this as a symbol of the Divine Logos, calling it “the most generic of all things, and that by which man may be nourished.” Bentwich uses this example to show how Philo spiritualized material narratives, equating the Torah with the law of nature and the source of all being. The Logos, he argues, is the complete aspect of God as He reveals Himself to the world, above which is the essence of God seen in Himself.

Angels, Dæmons, and Divine Effluences

Bentwich examines Philo’s treatment of angels and dæmons, noting that the finer spirit of Philo resolves these into spiritual effluences of the one Deity. While popular notions spoke of winged denizens of Heaven descending to earth, Philo habitually expounds angels as inward revelations of God. Bentwich points out that Philo makes a pose of agreement with popular notions in a few places, but his consistent view is that the attendant Dæmon and messenger-dæmons are the Logos in its individual aspect.

This section reveals Bentwich’s method: he traces how Philo transforms Jewish and pagan concepts into a unified philosophical theology. The Logos is both the revelation of God to the individual and to all mankind. Bentwich argues that Philo identified the Torah with the law of nature by regarding it as the Divine Logos. The more perfect emanation of God is, in one view, the power directing physical creation; in another, the perfect law set up as a model of conduct. This dual aspect, Bentwich suggests, allowed Philo to harmonize philosophy, theology, and religion in a single conception.

Bentwich’s study is best read as a work of retrieval, not a neutral survey. He writes with a clear thesis: Philo is a Jewish philosopher whose thought was distorted by later Christian and Greek readings. Readers should attend to how Bentwich uses Philo’s own allegorical method to argue for the Jewish roots of his ideas. The book’s value lies in its detailed exposition of Philo’s theology and its insistence on the unity of his system. For those interested in Hellenistic Judaism or the history of biblical interpretation, Bentwich offers a focused, argument-driven account that repays careful reading.

Reading Bentwich’s Philo-Judæus again, I was struck by how quietly he reclaims a thinker so often plucked from his own roots. There’s a similar ache in working through The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 4 (of 4) Hegel's Aesthetik — Background and Themes — both men build vast bridges, yet the ground beneath them feels oddly lonely. I keep thinking about that.