CENTRO PRO UNIONE N. 56 - Fall 1999 ISSN: 1122-0384 semi-annual Bulletin In this issue: Letter from the Director..................................................p. 2 The Organization of Jewish Communities in the Ancient Mediterranean World. Leadership and Authority by Isaiah M. Gafni.................................................p. 3 Ecumenismo: profezia della vita religiosa di Enzo Bianchi...................................................p. 9 The Fatherhood of God. Authority and Gender in the Year of the Father by Janet Martin Soskice..............................................p. 14 Centro Pro Unione - Via S. Maria dell'Anima, 30 - 00186 Rome, Italy A Center conducted by the Franciscan Friars of the AtonementDirector's Desk In this issue we are pleased to present three of the lectures given at the Centro during the first part of this year. Rabbi Isaiah Gafni of the Hebrew University, Jerusalem explores what the structures of Jewish communities, especially those of authority, would have been like in the Second Temple period. His lecture “The Organization of Jewish Communities in the Ancient Mediterranean World: Leadership and Authority” attracted much interest from both the Jewish and Christian participants. The first in a series of lectures honoring the memory of Fr. Paul Wattson and Mother Lurana White, co- founders of the Society of the Atonement was given by Enzo Bianchi, prior and founder of the Monastic ecumenical Community of Bose. His lecture “Ecumenismo: profezia della vita religiosa” illustrates the long history of the role that religious life played in the Gospel project, namely, proclaiming, witnessing and incarnating the Good News by the sequela Christi in the world. This conference marked the conclusion of the centennial celebration of the founding of the Franciscan Friars and Sisters of the Atonement. Once again our good friend Seguej Diatchenko helped us to conclude our celebration by organizing an exceptional musical event —the performance of Paganini’s 24 Capricci for solo violin. The extraordinary artist who performed this amazing work was Pasquale Farinacci. The third text in this issue, considers the question of authority from a female theologian’s perspective. Dr. Janet Martin Soskice, University Lecturer in theology at the University of Cambridge and a Fellow of Jesus College, presents a penetrating study on “The Fatherhood of God. Authority and Gender in the Year of the Father.” This year’s activities will present some interesting encounters and reflections. First we will have an evening with two of the protagonists in the signing of the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification between the Lutheran World Federation and the Catholic Church, Bishop Walter Kasper, secretary of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity and Bishop Ishmael Noko, General Secretary of the Lutheran World Federation. Their task is to help us understand the ramifications of this document for the life of our two churches. Then David Carter, a member of the British Methodist-Catholic Dialogue, will speak on “Can the Roman Catholic and Methodist Churches Be Reconciled?”. To round out the Fall’s lecture series, we have invited Sarah Coakley, Professor of Divinity at Harvard University, to present the second annual Fr. Paul Wattson and Mother Lurana White lecture. Dr. Coakley will speak on “The Trinity, Prayer and Sexuality. A Neglected Nexus in the Fathers and Beyond”. As with last year, the conference will conclude with a concert given by Pasquale Farinacci who will present the technically demanding “Six sonatas” of Eugen Ysaÿe composed at the beginning of this century. Several groups are scheduled to visit the Centro this Fall, including a group of Danish theological students from the University of Copenhagen, a group of Swedish Lutheran pastors and a group of students from the Ecumenical Graduate school at Bossey (Switzerland). I would like to bring to your attention two programs that we have organized for the Summer this year. The first entitled “Jerusalem 2000. Jews and Christians Rooted in the Word of God in Relationship with One Another” is jointly sponsored by S.I.D.I.C., the Sisters of Our Lady of Sion and the Centro and will take place between June 16-23, 2000 in Jerusalem. The aim of this study session is to introduce the participants to an ecumenical and interreligious experience of relations between Jews and Christian and to explore the relationship of the Christian faith to its Jewish roots. The deadline for registration is March 1, 2000. The second is our annual Summer course: “Introduction to the Ecumenical & Interreligious Movements from a RC Perspective” which will be held from June 26 to July 14, 2000 in Rome. This course offers a unique experience whereby the participant is introduced to the meaning of the ecumenical and interreligious movements through lectures and on-site visits to important offices in the Vatican and other institutions in Rome such as early Christian sites, the synagogue and mosque of Rome. Deadline for registration is March 31, 2000. Flyers for both programs are enclosed in this issue. For more information visit us at: http://www.prounione.urbe.it James F. Puglisi, sa DirectorN. 56 / Fall 1999Bulletin / Centro Pro Unione 3 Centro Conferences CCCC The Organization of Jewish Communities in the Ancient Mediterranean World Leadership and Authority Rabbi Isaiah M. Gafni Professor of Jewish History, The Hebrew University (Jerusalem) (Conference given at the Centro Pro Unione, Thursday, November 12, 1998) Some two thousand years ago, the well known historian and geographer Strabo of Amaseia (1 st century BCE — 1 st century CE), in describing events that took place in Cyrene at the time of Sulla (86 BCE), made a sweeping statement regarding the vast dispersion of the Jewish people: “This people has already made its way into every city, and it is not easy to find any place in the habitable world which has not received this nation and in which it has not made its power felt” 1 . Our late twentieth-century minds, conditioned by unfortu- nate events and statements over the past centuries, naturally tend to interpret the last clause in a decidedly negative manner, but this is probably not the case regarding Strabo. The predomi- nant attitude towards the Jews in his writings is sympathetic2, and while various interpretations have been given to “ ¦B46D"J,ÃJ"4ßBr"LJ@Ø ”, what is probably before us is simply an exageration of the pervasiveness of the Jewish community. Whatever Strabo’s intentions, the fact that he could identify a Jewish presence in every city clearly suggests some sort of organizational presence which could contribute to their inordi- nate influence. Indeed, in the very same passage Strabo goes on to describe how the rulers of Cyrene and Egypt encouraged the expansion “of the organized groups of Jews, who observe their national Jewish laws”. “In Egypt, for example, territory has been set apart for a Jewish settlement, and in Alexandria a great part of the city has been allocated to this nation. And an ethnarch of their own has been installed, who governs the people and adjudicates suits and supervises contracts and ordinances, just as if he were the head of a sovereign state” 3 . Much has been made of this text, although the unanswered questions still abound. While Philo also claims that two of the five districts of Alexandria were set aside for Jews 4 , there is absolutely no proof to sustain a claim forwarded by certain modem scholars to the effect that Jews were confined to a compulsory Ghetto 5 . As for an ‘ethnarch’, it is far from clear whether that official ruled over all of Egyptian Jewry, or only over the Alexandrian community. Earlier sources know nothing of an ethnarch in Alexandria, but describe the local Jewish community as organized along the lines of a ‘politeuma’ 6 . By the time of Augustus we hear of the appointment of a ‘gerousia’ (=council of elders) 7 , which might have weakened the status of a monarchal ethnarch. And yet we continue to hear of some sort of jurisdiction maintained by Jewish courts in Egypt, and even of the existence of a local Jewish archives where one Theodorus deposited his will in 13 BCE 8 . My point in all this is obvious: Jews of the diaspora went to great lengths to maintain organized communal frameworks, and the Jewish influence referred to by Strabo and others throughout Late Antiquity did not derive from any hidden and secretive clannish bond, an invisible pulling of strings or some ancient version of more modem claims to “Jewish control of the media and banking system”, but rather derive from a visible and legally recognized framework. To be sure, how different authors and personalities inter- 1 Hist. Hypomnemata, apud JOSEPHUS, Antiquities 14:115; M. STERN, Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism, (Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1976), vol. I: From Herodotus to Plutarch, 278. Herafter cited GLAJJ followed by volume number and page. 2 Cf. M. STERN, GLAJJ, I: 264. 3 JOSEPHUS, Antiquities 14:116. 4 PHILO ALEXANDRINUS, In Flaccum, 55. 5 See M. STERN, GLAJJ, I: 399, the allotment of special districts appears to have been a favor to the Jews who were interested in living in proximity to one another, and the one exception is Flaccus of Egypt, who in the days of Caligula confined them to their quarter. 6 Letter of Aristeas, 310. 7 JOSEPHUS, Antiquities 19:283. 8 Cf. V. TCHERIKOVER & A. FUKS, eds., Corpus Papyrorum Judaicarum (Cambridge, MA: Harvard Univeristy Press, 1960), vol. 2:#143. Hereafter cited CPJ followed by volume number and document number.4 Bulletin / Centro Pro UnioneN. 56 / Fall 1999 preted the influence enjoyed by this Jewish communal organi- zation depended on the personal proclivities of each author, as well as the circumstances in which various statements were made. Thus, for example, the Jewish community in Rome seems to have been the target of disparaging remarks by Cicero in his famous defense of Flaccus in 59 BCE. As with Strabo, Cicero also alludes to the influence of the local community: “You know what a big crowd it is, how they stick together, how influential they are in informal assemblies” 9 . Cicero has been exonerated by modem scholars from embracing specific anti- Semitic sentiments, inasmuch as his denigration of opposing witnesses and their national character was a common judicial practice, and if anything Cicero was equally bigoted towards all non-Romans. But what does come through in his statement, as in the case of Strabo, is the existence of a visible communal organization of Jews. It is this organizational structure, its internal hierarchy and types of leadership that I propose to take up in the following pages. But any discussion of local communities in Late Antiquity — both before and after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE — must always approach the problem on two distinct levels. Just as we strive to identify the various bodies and hierarchal organization within the local community, we must constantly also keep in mind the ties between the various communities, and even more so — the links and expressions of communal control issuing from the Jewish center, and its authority structure, in the Land of Israel. As we shall see, at certain stages the two hierarchies were intrinsically linked, and surprising as it may sound, these bonds may have even been strengthened in the decades and centuries following the destruction of the Temple. I make this point as part of a general analogy between Second Temple times and the current Jewish situation. These are the only two chapters in Jewish history wherein we confront a unique duality of Jewish communal existence: on the one hand a large, politically assertive and at times independent Jewish community in the Land of Israel, and at the very same time a large and thriving Jewish diaspora defined both through its ties with that center as well as by its local institutions and lifestyle. And so while we run the risk of anachronism in our modem attempts at analyzing that duality of Jewish life, we might also be in the unique situation today of being more sensitive to questions confronting that ancient Jewish commu- nity, and more qualified than earlier generations to appreciate the dilemma of Jewish self-identity in Late Antiquity 10 . Before we get to the institutions and offices of Jewish communal leadership, we would do well to understand the underlying assumptions that enabled Jews to set up these structures and to enjoy the support of the various ruling em- pires, be they the neo-Babylonian or Persian kingdoms in the East, or subsequently the Hellenistic and Roman empires of the West. The guiding principle in almost all cases was the wish and interest of the various ruling forces to insure the support of the vast numbers of Jews in their domain, by granting them the right to live according to their laws. Legal and practical prece- dent was crucial, and so it is not by chance that Josephus notes that it was already Alexander the Great that allowed Jews to live in accordance with the laws of their fathers ( PDZF"F2"4J@ÃH B"JD\@4H<`:@4H ), and that this permission was granted by him not only to the Jews of Palestine but to those of Babylon and Media as well 11 . A letter from Antiochus the 3 rd to one of his governors confirms the Jewish right to “use their own laws” 12 , and years later it was Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, son- in-law of Augustus, who granted the Jews of Ionia the right “to use their own customs” 13 . Indeed, this right appears as a common clause in numerous official edicts 14 , and frequently included the right to keep the Sabbath and holidays — a practice that often was impeded either by forced military service or the need to appear in court on the Sabbath. The recognition of the Jewish communal right to maintain a unique way of life often resulted in the establishment of specific institutions for that purpose. The most obvious was of course the synagogue. The precise origins of this institution have been at the center of a debate that has raged for years, and while I have a definite opinion on this, will spare you the details 15 . Suffice to say that the institution went by a variety of names. It was commonly referred to as ‘proseuche’ (place of prayer) in Egypt, as far back as an inscription relating to the 3 rd century BCE in which the Ptolemaic monarch granted the 9 CICERO, Pro Flacco, 28:66. 10 Thus, for example, I would not be surprised if certain Jews of Alexandria might have defined themselves as Judaeans (or Jews) residing in Alexandria, while some of their brethren would have considered themselves proud “Alexandrians — of mosaic persuasion”. Indeed, certain prominent Jewish thinkers of 19th century Germany often pointed towards the ancient Alexandrian community as a model for Jewish integration into the social and cultural fabric of the lands in which Jews resided. 11 JOSEPHUS, Antiquities 11:338. 12 Ibid., 12:150. 13Ibid., 12:126; 16:28, 60. 14 See the long list of edicts cited by JOSEPHUS, Antiquities 14:185ff. 15 For a recent summary and one scholar’s unique approach see, L.I. LEVINE, “The Nature and Origin of the Palestinian Synagogue Reconsidered”, Journal of Biblical Literature 115, 3 (1996) 425- 448.N. 56 / Fall 1999Bulletin / Centro Pro Unione 5 Jewish institution the right of asylum 16 . In Egypt we also find ‘eucheion’ 17 . Other names are ‘sambatheion’ (in Lydia) 18 as well as ‘Ebraike’ (in Cyprus) 19 . The common term for the institution in Palestine and gradually throughout the Hellenistic- Roman diaspora was of course synagogue. The various political powers continued to recognize this Jewish institution, and thus we read in an edict of Augustus to Asia Minor that “if anyone is caught stealing their sacred books or their sacred monies from a synagogue or an Ark (of the law), he will be regarded as sacrilegious and his property shall be confiscated to the public treasury of the Romans” 20 . Beyond the synagogue, the communal establishment of the Jews was recognized by the permission it received to maintain an autonomous judicial system, at least in most matters not involving capital punishment. In a letter from the Roman governor Lucius Antonius to the magistrates of the city of Sardis, the governor notes that the local Jews “have had an association of their own in accordance with their native laws and a place of their own 21 in which they decide their affairs and controversies with one another; and upon their request ... I decided that these might be maintained” 22 . This internal Jewish legal autonomy certainly is evident in the Book of Acts (18:14- 16), but what is of particular interest there is the assumption that the High Priest in Jerusalem could grant Paul permission to take action in the synagogue of Damascus against those perceived as acting improperly 23 . The links between the Palestinian center and the diaspora communities would also be expressed by the permission granted to Jews throughout the Empire to send money to the Temple at Jerusalem. The destruction of the Temple (70 CE) did not bring about the cessation of this practice. which would be re-established by the Patriarchs (nesi’im) and collected by their agents (apostoloi) centuries after the destruction, and until the early fifth century24. The other side of the same coin was the Jewish tax ( 3@L*"46Î<J,8,F:" ) imposed by Vespasian upon Jews throughout the Empire in the aftermath of the Jewish defeat in Judaea. Thus, both Jews and Romans recognized and in their own way even encouraged a perception of inter-relationship between the Jewish center and the local communities of Jews. Any discussion of Jewish communal structures in Late Antiquity must always keep this factor in mind. The communal organization and leadership structures in Jewish communities such as those of Rome appear to have been transmitted from the communal realities of the Hellenistic east. This is certainly the case regarding certain official titles, such as archontes, gerousia and gerousiarchs, presbuteroi and of course archisynagogos. I will touch on the meaning of some of these terms momentarily, but would also point out that Jewish communities in Rome were ultimately also influenced by the reality of collegia, and the terminology linked with these groups (mater collegii, pater collegii, patronus) found its way into Jewish communal life as well. There is, in fact, scholarly discussion as to whether the Roman administration could relate to the Jewish community as a type of collegium, in which case the prohibition of Julius Caesar relating to these bodies would have regarded the Jewish collegia as one of the “ancient” ones that were granted exemption from Caesar’s decree. Some scholars, such as J. Juster25, considered the Jewish community to be sui generis in the Roman world, but whatever the case, the permission granted to Jews to live according to their laws in effect granted de facto recognition to their communal structures as well. The most common title in Jewish communities was the ‘archon’. These officials, alongside the ‘gerousia’, were the effective leaders of the community. This is a classic example of the transfer of eastern-hellenistic terminology, and the constitu- tion of the ‘politeuma’ as well, to the West. Some fifty inscrip- tions in Rome mention archons, and they represent eight of the communities know from the catacombs (most are from Monteverde). Since they are mentioned in funerary inscriptions they usually appear by name alone, without a description of the administrative body in which they functioned. But we do know they were elected in yearly elections, some more than once (e.g. twice, three times and even for life). ‘Past’ and ‘future’ archons are mentioned, but only in one case is the archon also a priest. Clearly we have before us a wealthy aristocratic class, and this would explain the phenomenon of a child being called archon 26. As is common with official titles, we also encounter ‘archon alti ordinis’ or ‘archon pases times’, i.e. an honorary archon (“archon of all dignity”). Archons were apparently also members of the gerousia, but at times also possessed other titles, such as ‘phrontistes’ (some 16 Cf. J.-B. FREY, ed., Corpus Inscriptionum Iudaicarum. Recueil des inscriptions juives qui vont du IIIe siècle avant Jésus-Christ au VIIIe siècle de notre ère, (Vatican City: Pontificio Istituto di Archeologia Cristiana, 1952) #1149: asulia. Hereafter cited CII followed by document number. 17 Cf. CPJ, 2:#432. 18 Cf. CPJ, 3, p. 46. 19CII, #735. 20 JOSEPHUS, Antiquities 16:164. 21 I feel that this was probably a synagogue. 22 JOSEPHUS, Antiquities 14:235. 23 Acts 9:2. 24 See. H. MANTEL, Studies in the History of the Sanhedrin (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1965) 190-198. 25 J. JUSTER, Les Juifs dans l’Empire Romain, leur condition juridique, économique et social (Paris: Geuthner, 1914) vol. 1, 418- 424; cf. H.J. LEON, The Jews of Ancient Rome (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1960) 167-170. 26 Cf. CII, #120; J.H. LEON, The Jews..., op. cit., 281. Cf. also CII, #505 and J.H. LEON, The Jews..., op. cit., 339.6 Bulletin / Centro Pro UnioneN. 56 / Fall 1999 sort of financial supervisor, either for the synagogue or the community at large) or ‘archisynagogos’. To be honest, we have no real indication as to what the practical functions of the archon were. Some27 claim that in Rome each community was an independent body with its own governing body of archons, while others (Juster) maintain that the various congregations were linked to one gerousia comprised of archons, with each community appointing its archons to that central body. As for the community in Rome there is no real proof that the various synagogues were in fact linked to one central body, in a manner similar to the organization at Alexandria. And thus when Paul (Acts 28:17) meets with the chiefs of the Jews after arriving at Rome, there is no compelling reason to believe that they were members of the central organization of Roman Jewish commu- nities. Whatever the case might be, there is no indication linking the office of ‘archon’ to a specifically religious function or institution. This may not be the case regarding one of the most wide- spread Jewish titles: the archisynagogos. We find this title throughout the Jewish diaspora (with the exception of Egypt and Cyrene), as well as in Palestine. Not only men, but women as well were mentioned in inscriptions as bearing this title 28 . In numerous cases archisynagogoi are mentioned in inscriptions as those who contributed to the building of a synagogue. In Palestine the most noted of these is Theodotus the son of Vettenos, who was also a priest. But again, we are not totally sure whether the archisynagogos was the head of the syna- gogue (rosh ha-knesset) or in fact the head of the congregation or the community 29 . We would do well not to expect a common and singular use for the term archisynagogos throughout the Jewish world and for all periods. By the 4 th century archisynagogoi are mentioned in Imperial legislation together with priests (hiereos) and ‘fathers of synagogues’ (patres synagogorum) as those devoted to the service of the synagogue 30 . In yet another law the archisynagogos is men- tioned together with the elders (presbuteris) and others as “devoted to the religious cult” (religionis sacramento) of the Jews, but what is no less noteworthy in that law 31 is that these officials were subservient to — and apparently appointed by messengers of — the Palestinian Jewish Patriarch, known in Hebrew as the Nasi. Another office mentioned in Jewish inscriptions at Rome is the ‘grammateus’ (scribe), and apparently each community had its own scribe. Rabbinic sources mention the scribe (lavlar) as one of the ten institutions absolutely necessary for organized communal life, and this is not merely a result of the fact that not all Jews knew how to write. Scribes were responsible for a whole range of documents for which very specific legal and technical knowledge was required: they produced scrolls of Torah and other religious texts, deeds of divorce and numerous other documents. Here too the title became an honorific, and thus we find “future” scribes as well as child scribes. There is no uniformity of titles in the various Jewish com- munities, and offices found in some communities are lacking in others. Thus, for example, the title ‘presbuteros’ is common in inscriptions and papyri. As far back as the Letter of Aristeas we encounter ‘presbuteroi’ as members of the gerousia of Alexan- dria, and the title appears throughout Asia Minor (Smyrna, Hyllarima, Bithynia and more), Cyprus, Dura Europos, Sicily, Venosa and Spain. And yet in Rome, where we encounter more than fifty archons, there are no presbuteroi, save for one very doubtful inscription 32 . In certain cases, however, the absence of a particular office may not be due to its nonexistence, but simply to the fact that it was not sufficiently important to be noted on a funerary inscription. This may be the case of ‘hyperetes’, found only once in all of Europe33 and which was equivalent to the Hebrew and Aramaic ‘hazzan’ or ‘hazzan ha- knesset’, a relatively minor official that probably served as an aid to the archisynagogos, caring for sacred scrolls. We are reminded of the hyperetes in Luke 4:20, who receives the scroll of Isaiah from Jesus after its reading was concluded 34 . In summarizing what we have seen up to now, two things stand out. Our knowledge of communal structures in the West is based almost solely on epigraphical evidence, which inher- ently assumes that the reader of the inscription knows much more than what appears in the text, inasmuch as his or her presence assumes a degree of awareness, if not actual involve- ment, in communal activity. This is totally different from literary descriptions such as those that we encounter in historiographical accounts, which by definition were produced to meet the needs of those who were not present at the events described. So in the Western Mediterranean area we encounter lists of titles, but have no way of knowing what these really meant, unless we refer to literary texts, which — as in the case of portions of the New Testament or the Talmud — were produced elsewhere. Momentarily I will argue that these texts should nevertheless be introduced into our discussions of Jewish communal structures in the diaspora, if for no other 27 E.g., E. SCHÜERER, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, rev. Ed. G. Vermes et al. (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1986) 95 (and n. 29 for further literature). 28 E.g., CII, #756 from Mindos. 29 We are also not sure at all what the precise function or meaning of the term ‘patros synagogos’ — as well as ‘mater synagogos’— both found in Rome — came to signify. 30 Cf. Codex Theodosianus 16:8:4 from 1 December 330. 31 Codex Theodosianus 16:8:13 from 397. 32 For an index of the titles found in the Rome inscriptions see, D. NOY, Jewish Inscriptions of Western Europe (Cambridge, MA: University Press, 1995), vol. 2: The City of Rome, 538-539. 33 Ibid., 2:251. 34 The term also appears in the New Testament as an officer of the High Priest and Pharisees who arrested or detained prisoners.N. 56 / Fall 1999Bulletin / Centro Pro Unione 7 reason than the fact that we can prove the active involvement of certain Palestinian Jewish officials, most notably the Patriarch, in the activities and officialdom of Jewish communities far removed from Tiberias in Galilee. But before stressing that point, another observation can be made, based on what we have already seen. In our discussion up to now we have yet to encounter what might be described as a decidedly spiritual office or function within the local Jewish community. To be more specific, we have encountered nothing remotely similar to what might be described as the local rabbi, an office which in later times came to be known in Aramaic as ‘mara de-atra’, i.e. ‘the master of the place’. To those that would claim that this absence possibly reflects the existence of a more secular oriented Jewish community, rather than an idealized rabbinic one, I will now add an even more surprising fact: the office of ‘local rabbi’ is absent not only in epigraphical evidence and papyri, but in the rabbinic model of the local community as well! Nowhere in the monumental corpus of talmudic literature do we encounter a local communal structure incorporating the rabbi as an absolute necessity for communal life, and as a designated official operating alongside the hazzan, rosh knesset, or other local offices. We have, in fact, a list of the ten institutions that, in rabbinic eyes, constituted the absolute minimal prerequisites for communal life, and the list is extraor- dinary both for its contents as well as what’s missing: “It has been taught: A scholar (literally a disciple of the sages) should not reside in a city where the following ten things are not found: A court of justice that imposes flagellation and decrees penalties; a charity fund, col- lected by two and distributed by three; a synagogue; a public bath; a convenience; a doctor; an artisan (i.e. bloodletter); a notary; a slaughterer; and a school- teacher” 35 . This list contains three distinct portions or components: 1) Institutions (court; charity fund); 2) Buildings (synagogue; bath house; convenience); 3) Functionaries (doctor; bloodletter; notary; slaughterer and schoolteacher). These ten factors, in rabbinic eyes, were not based on some ancient or preconceived idyllic image of the perfect city, a sort of Jewish ‘polis’ built physically along Hypodamic lines and institutionally represent- ing a perfect political entity, but were simply the factors that enabled a Jew to live as such from earliest childhood. Of course a court system assumed the presence of a qualified rabbi for certain functions, but in fact arbitration using three laymen was probably far more practical, and was recognized by the rabbis themselves as being a legitimate system for adjudication 36 . Similarly, a rabbi might be asked to deliver a sermon in the synagogue, but it was not his presence that rendered the synagogue operative, but rather the presence of ten ordinary Jews. They represent the sanctity of the synagogue and effec- tively render it a “kehilla kadisha” (=sacred congregation), rather than any sacred artifact such as the Sefer Torah or the Holy Ark. Consequently, when a Palestinian sage was asked how one knows that God’s presence may be found in the synagogue, he replied: “The Lord standeth in the Community of God” 37 . Of course, there was a hierarchy even in such communities and the officialdom we have encountered up to now was part of it. But even this hierarchy was projected within a behavioral context rather than a constitutional framework when discussed by the rabbis: “Our masters taught: Let a man sell all he has and marry the daughter of a scholar. If he does not find the daughter of a scholar, let him marry the daughter of one of the great men of the generation 38 . If he does not find the daughter of one of the great men of the generation, let him marry the daughter of the head of the synagogue (‘rashei knessiyot’); if he does not find the daughter of a head of a synagogue, let him marry the daughter of the charity treasurer; if he does not find the daughter of the charity treasurer let him marry the daughter of the elementary-school teacher (‘melamdei tinokot’); but let him not marry the daughter of an am-ha’aretz etc.” 39 The sages could not deny the highest spot on the communal totem-pole to a representative of their spiritual milieu, but at the same time were fully aware of a communal officialdom, titles and all. And yet what is striking is the centrality of the members of the community: their organization does not exist to further some higher cultural goal, but simply to enable Jewish life on the local and most basic level. Moreover, the rabbinic understanding of the legal status of this community was not that of a corporate entity, but rather a partnership in which all have equal say and an equal vote. The ‘seven first-citizens’ (shiv’a tuvei ha-ir) can sell the synagogue deemed the property of all the city’s taxpaying residents — 35 Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 17b. 36 Cf. G. ALON, “Those Appointed for Money”, idem., Jews and the Classical World. Studies in Jewish History in the Times of the Second Temple and Talmud (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1977) 374ff. 37 Ps 82:1; Babylonian Talmud, Berakhot, 6a. 38 In rabbinic parlance “great men of the generation” — gedolei ha-dor — refers to civil leaders of the community. 39 Babylonian Talmud, Pesahim, 49a-b; ‘am ha-aretz’ in rabbinic literature no longer refers to ‘the indigenous population’ as in the Bible, but takes on a decidedly negative connotation, either as one lax in the keeping of certain laws, or in general a boor who also represents the social oppositionb to rabbinic authority; see A. OPPENHEIMER, The Am Ha-Aretz. A Study in the Social History of the Jewish People in the Hellenistic-Roman Period, Arbeiten zur Literatur und Geschichte des Hellenistischen Judentums, 8 (Leiden: Brill, 1977).8 Bulletin / Centro Pro UnioneN. 56 / Fall 1999 only in the presence (or acquiesence) of all the townspeople (ma’amad anshei ha-ir) 40 .The idea of a municipality legally representing the townspeople was not yet formalized in rabbinic times, and for them the entire membership of the community was equally involved in all legal activity. The practical applica- tions of such a perception appear in a variety of legal discus- sions. Thus, for example, if a scroll of Torah is stolen and the thief apprehended, he must be judged in another town, inas- much as any judge in the local community would be party to the stolen goods and thus ineligible to provide impartial judgement 41 . Or, if one takes an oath to refrain from deriving any benefit from a particular fellow-townsperson, he is forbid- den not only from entering that person’s house and partaking of his food, but also from sitting in the synagogue, inasmuch as all townspeople share equal ownership in each seat of that particu- lar public building 42 . A resident actually assumed formal citizenship in this community according to the rabbis, but in contra-distinction to the Greek polis this derived not from social status, pedigree or recognition for some philanthropic deed, but simply as a consequence of ongoing residence: “How long must he be in the city to be considered as one of the city? Twelve months” 43 . What is striking is that these concepts of communal organi- zation do not emerge in rabbinic Babylonia, but rather in Roman Palestine, notwithstanding the fact that the rabbis in Palestine were surrounded by examples of the Greek city, and indeed in certain major cases such as Sephorris and Tiberias even lived within the confines of recognized poleis. For these sages the communal structure was a means towards assuring ongoing religious life, and not an end unto itself and the fulfillment of some idealized polity. And so while we encounter a long list of communal laws and functions, these regulations do not appear in a talmudic tractate of their own, but rather are dispersed throughout the various tractates. Laws of communal charity might be found in Tractate Megillah, for on Purim we are required to give gifts to the poor. Titles of communal officials are scattered throughout the laws dealing with syna- gogue procedure and prayer, charity collection and mourning; and the establishing of public schoolhouses — among the laws of neighbor relations (the question being: can a private citizen set up a school-house in his yard, to the dismay of the neigh- bors). Can we use this information in determining the communal organization or concepts in the western Jewish diaspora? Obviously not in its entirety, but I do think that up to a degree we might nevertheless answer in the affirmative, for the links between the Palestinian communal leadership and its diaspora counterparts are well documented, and not only in rabbinic literature. Messengers dispatched from the Judaean center to the diaspora, for a whole range of functions, are well know to us not only from the days of the Second Temple, but for genera- tions after the destruction as well. At times these apostoli might have been the bearers of information regarding ritual affairs, such as the intercalation of the calendar, while in other cases we hear of those sent to the diaspora to gather funds — whether in the form of temple-oriented shekalim before 70 CE, or funds for support of the rabbis in the post-Temple period 44 . We hear of rabbis in the late 1 st and early 2 nd centuries who visited the Jewish community of Rome and delivered sermons while there. One sage, R. Joshua, actually identified Jewish children in the streets of Rome through the games they played: approaching them he noticed that they would make large mudpies or other such heaps, and then would remove sections of the larger heap into smaller portions. Upon coming even closer to them he overheard one child saying: This is what our brethren in Eretz Israel do: they call this portion a tithe, and this one a second tithe etc. Of particular interest for our discussion is the involve- ment of the patriarchate in the appointment, and removal, of local officials in the Jewish communities abroad. Epiphanius describes in picturesque terms how Joseph the Comes, before his conversion to Christianity, was one of the Patriarch’s apostles, sent out to gather funds as well as to “depose archisynagogoi, priests, presbuteroi and hyperetoi” 45 . As noted before, various laws cited in the Theodosian Code also allude to these apostoli dispatched by the Patriarch, and this reality of patriarchal influence in diaspora communities, is confirmed by one of the many letters written by the noted rhetor of 4 th century Antioch, Libanius. In a correspondence from the year 364 CE addressed to Priscianus, at the time Consularis Palaestinae, Libanius believes that the local ‘archon’ of the Jewish commu- nity in Antioch, an unpleasant fellow previously deposed, is about to be re-appointed because of pressure being placed by the Jewish “archon of archons”, i.e. the Palestinian Patriarch 46 . The conclusions emerging from this reality are crucial for a true understanding of Jewish self-identity in the diaspora. Local leadership and organization certainly contributed to the cohe- siveness of the widespread Jewish nation. But to assume that the impetus for the creation of the local community, the kehilla, was dispersion per se and the need to create — in hostile surroundings — a Jewish city within a city, is a popular misconception. Local Jewish organization has its roots in the Land of Israel, and derives not from a particular political need, 40 Babylonian Talmud, Megillah, 26a. 41 Babylonian Talmud, Bava Bathra, 43a. 42 Mishna Nedarim, 4:4-5. 43 Mishna Bava Bathra, 1:5. 44 There are beautiful tales on this theme, such as the story of one Abba Yehuda in Antioch who would regularly contribute to the messengers sent out by the sages, and his consternation in the wake of his becoming suddenly destitute; cf. Palestinian Talmud, Horayot, 3:48a; Leviticus Rabbah, 5:4, ed. Margaliyot, p. 110. 45 EPIPHANIUS, Panarion Haer., 30.3.4. 46 Cf. M. STERN, GLAJJ, vol. II: From Tacitus to Simplicius, 598.N. 56 / Fall 1999Bulletin / Centro Pro Unione 9 but rather as a means of assuring a viable Jewish lifestyle for the community at large. In that sense it was the people who rendered the community a “kehillat kodesh”, and if organized properly this community might also serve as God’s residence, for as we have noted: -!($3""71.*%-! — “The Lord standeth in the Community of God” (Ps. 82:1).Next >