This is part of a 2024 Association for Jewish Studies panel celebrating the publication of Gross, Babylonian Jews and Sasanian Imperialism in Late Antiquity (Cambridge Press, 2024). Read the full forum here.
How do we understand the social, religious, and political world in which late ancient Babylonian Jews lived and within which a group of religious virtuosi Simcha Gross identifies as “a select group. . . steeped in the contemplation, instruction, and practice of Jewish law and lore” (14)—the group we call the “Babylonian rabbis”—functioned? Gross’s project is to decisively revise how we think about this question. He rejects three interlocking notions about Sasanian rule and its impact on Babylonian Jews: (1) the idea that the Sasanian empire was detached and feudalistic, mostly non-interventionist into the lives of minority religious communities; (2) that concomitantly, the empire authorized semi-autonomous religious communities to conduct their internal affairs without interference; and (3) that Babylonian Jews were isolated from non-Jews and non-Jewish influence. Point (2)—minority community autonomy—is consistent with the once-popular scholarly idea that the rabbis were the recognized, uncontested leaders of Babylonian Jews, a notion which Gross (in the company of other contemporary scholars) rejects. (The Exilarch, although pertinent to the overall topic of this essay, is omitted.)
Gross instead posits an integrated model of empire in which Jews were “integrated subjects” (15). Jews were “entrenched” in local and imperial contexts and participated in them (20). The Sasanians did not formally authorize minority community self-rule, and the rabbis were not recognized as the uncontested leaders of Babylonian Jews, either by the latter or by the empire. Rather, the rabbis had to and did compete for recognition on “a crowded playing field of social actors” (5; see also 30). To exercise power, the rabbis had to “earn and maintain” the recognition of other Jews (38; see also 84); they had to accrue “social prestige and cultural capital” (85). Others had to be persuaded to see them as legitimate authorities who could wield social power (87).
My earlier work compels me to nod along vigorously to these aspects of the integrated model. Gross’s integrated model illuminates and is illuminated by many of my findings concerning the intersection of Babylonian rabbis and wealth, poverty, and charity. The Bavli portrays tense competition between Babylonian rabbis and wealthy Jewish non-rabbis, quite unlike the mostly irenic interdependence between rabbis and the wealthy one sees in Palestinian rabbinic compilations. Rav calls the wealthy “descenders into hell” (bBeitz 32b). Rav Natan bar Abba links Rav’s insult to the sad affair of Shabtai bar Marenus, who was unsuccessful in obtaining either a business opportunity or even sustenance upon arrival in Babylonia. Shabtai derided the ungenerous people he encountered, as, inter alia, the “mixed multitude” that left Egypt—in other words, as being of doubtful Jewish lineage. Rav Huna and Rava both link the wealth of the Jewish non-rabbinic wealthy and laziness (bShab 54a; 32b–33a). Rava also adds “the most beautiful of the beautiful people of Mehoza” to a list of those who will be in Gehinnom (bRH 17a). Gross himself comments on the “particularly interesting” bSan 99b–100a, where Rava crosses polemical swords with Benjamin the doctor, who uses colorful imagery to portray the rabbis as utterly useless (62n119).
Now, demonstrating a pattern of inter-group tensions between rabbis and the non-rabbinic wealthy is not the same as demonstrating that these tensions were symptoms of a struggle for “social prestige and cultural capital” (85). How do we know what a demonstrable, even occasionally amusing, pattern of hostility was really about? Moving beyond rabbis and the wealthy, how do we know in general that a particular, ambiguous evidentiary pattern shows the rabbis to be “integrated subjects” (15) anxious for status in Jewish society rather than, say, removed and aloof from that society? Gross rightly observes that responsible use of the Bavli for historical reconstruction involves the search for “broad patterns” (23). I would add a point with which I doubt he will disagree: Responsibly interpreting a given discernible “broad pattern” necessitates that the pattern not be interpreted in isolation. Rather, one should look for as many other related, topically adjacent “broad patterns” as possible. Should this set of broad patterns be largely mutually reinforcing and should there be a hypothesis that accounts for most ( “all” may be too high a standard) of the patterns in the set, the scholar is justified in proposing that hypothesis to explain the “broad patterns.”
And now, back to inter-group tensions between the rabbis and the non-rabbinic wealthy. Another relevant pattern: Babylonian rabbinic hostility to the Jewish non-rabbinic wealthy did not entail hostility to wealth (as Gross himself points out on, e.g., 121). How Babylonian rabbis use wealth in constructing their image is key to understanding their self-perception and the nature of their competition for social capital with the Jewish non-rabbinic wealthy. Lev 21:10 refers to the priest who is exalted above his fellows, and tYoma 1:6 interprets this to mean that if the priest is impecunious, “his fellows will exalt him.” TYoma 1:6 ramifies intertextually in the Bavli in different directions. There are specific references to it in Babylonian-tinged portrayals of R. Ami and R. Abba of Akko (bHul 134b; bSot 40a). The idea is implicit in the uniquely Babylonian portrayals of the rises to wealth of Rav Huna, Rav Hisda, Rava, Rav Papa, and Rav Ashi in tandem with their achieving Torah mastery and in Samuel’s dictum that whoever is appointed a parnas over the community becomes wealthy (bYoma 22b). Babylonian rabbis also separately and relatedly valorize rabbinic economic independence (bNed 38a). It is therefore unsurprising to note that, in addition, Babylonian rabbis tend not to portray themselves as poor, and typically do not apply the lexeme עני to themselves.
The rabbis’ competition with the non-rabbinic wealthy is therefore arguably not a struggle of poor rabbis versus rich non-rabbis. Is it about obtaining resources from the non-rabbinic wealthy? The rabbis portray themselves as owing nothing to the non-rabbinic wealthy, in relation to whom they are independent, socioeconomic equals. While the rabbis are demonstrably not unwilling to accept donations from non-rabbis, these donations are constructed as priestly gifts (bKet 105b; bAZ 10b; bHul 133a) not as tzedakah (which Palestinian amoraim were prepared to accept). The priestly connection is important: I referred earlier to tYoma 1:6 (enriching the impecunious priest) and Gross himself discusses the interesting story on bZev 116b, where Ifra Hormiz sends Rava an animal for sacrifice, indicating that on some level she sees him as a priest (233). Rava also analogizes the rabbis to Zoroastrian priests (bNed 62b), in order that (on Gross’s sensible reading), other Jews should pay the rabbis’ taxes (128). The Babylonian rabbinic adoption of aspects of priesthood is not unique to them; the Martyrdom of Simeon bar Sabba‘e refers to the martyred Christian clergy as kahne w-lewaye (see Becker 2007, 381 and n37), and Adam Becker notes that the Didascalia Apostolorum (ch8) justifies gifts to priests on the basis of Numbers 18:1–32’s directions concerning such gifts. Taking these various “broad patterns” all together, it may justifiably be hypothesized that the rabbis’ struggle with the non-rabbinic wealthy was a struggle with them for social status and capital among the Jews. The rabbis enjoyed neither imperial nor internal Jewish recognition as uncontested “power players” among the Jews. They see themselves as a class apart: not part of the poor nor of the wealthy, but an economically independent, higher socioeconomic group with a particular winning advantage over the non-rabbinic wealthy: The rabbis devotedly study, correctly interpret, and properly live and instruct Torah. In this they occupy a space within Jewish society analogous to the Zoroastrian priesthood or Christian clergy within their respective spheres.
There is another set of patterns pertaining to Babylonian rabbis and the poor that complements the set of patterns of Babylonian rabbinic tensions with the non-rabbinic wealthy. Babylonian rabbis construct themselves as champions of the poor (especially the laboring poor), notwithstanding a notable pattern of rabbinic ambivalence about the non-working poor. Rav intervenes decisively on behalf of clumsy, hungry porters against another rabbi (bBM 83a) and rules that day laborers may walk off the job in the middle of the day (e.g., bBM 10a). Rav Huna, Rav Yosef, Rabbah, Ravina, and Rav Ashi are clearly portrayed as charity collectors and distributors, and even as behaving imperiously in that role. Rav Huna “imposes” (ramah) charity on his own and a subordinate rabbi’s townspeople (bMeg 27a–b), as did Rabbah on certain orphans (bBB 8a). Rav Yosef refers to himself as the “hand of the poor” [bBK 36b]). Rava “compels” (akhpei) another rabbi to disgorge a large sum for charity (bBB 8b). Rabbah and Rav Ashi both dictate to their communities that they will exercise their own discretion in distributing charity funds (bBB 9a). In sum, there is a pattern of advocacy for the working poor and of charity as a way for some rabbis to portray themselves as capable of imposing their will on other rabbis and even non-rabbis. There is a related pattern of Babylonian rabbinic ambivalence about theologies of charity that could tend to minimize the role of charity collectors/distributors, such as redemptive almsgiving and the old idea that charity is a gift to and from God. Too strong an emphasis on God’s role in charity can occlude the human role; the more charity is associated with Babylonian rabbinic collector/distributors, the more they can use it to build their own social capital among the Jews.
These two sets of patterns—rabbinic tensions with the non-rabbinic wealthy and their involvements with charity and the working poor—are arguably complementary. Not only should the rabbis prevail in the competition with the non-rabbinic wealthy for social capital because of their Torah study, interpretation, living, and teaching, they should prevail because they are benevolently mindful and even activist on behalf of their social inferiors (the working poor) and are willing and able to compel other Jews to be similarly mindful and also do charity in accordance with rabbinic visions of that cluster of practices. I repeat: these two complementary sets of patterns both illuminate and are illuminated by Gross’s integrated model. I look forward to further studies by Gross and other scholars laying out the messy social dynamics and struggles of Babylonian Jews, rabbis and not, prior to the emergence and eventual religious and cultural centering of the Bavli.
Alyssa M. Gray is the Emily S. and Rabbi Bernard H. Mehlman Chair in Rabbinics, and Professor of Codes and Responsa Literature at HUC-JIR in New York.