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neously in exegesis and legislation. No doubt their opinions were initially
solicited informally like those of the old Roman jurists recalled by Cicero,
and transmitted orally. The third century saw the production, just as the
prestigious period of Roman jurisprudence was waning, of the Mishnah, de-
signed to elaborate, clarify and supplement the commandments contained in
the Torah, but with its own distinctive structure. Probably by the fourth cen-
tury especially in Palestine, and more certainly by the sixth century even be-
yond Palestine, the rabbis were on their way to becoming communal/syna-
gogal functionaries, with circles of pupils meeting in study houses, and
inclined to promote norms of what they regarded as “orthodoxy.”^53
The “Jerusalem” or rather Palestinian Talmud (since it appears to have
been finalized in late fourth- or early fifth- century Tiberias) offered com-
mentary on the Mishnah, but neither comprehensively nor systematically.
Rather, it foregrounds the opinions of five generations of Palestinian sages
(amoraim) and three of Babylonian, discussing them for their own sake, not
just for the light they throw on the Mishnah. The Babylonian Talmud adds
later generations of Babylonians to the mix, and must have been nearing
completion about when Justinian’s corpus was promulgated, though addi-
tions accumulated into the eighth century.^54 It is more expansive, discursive,
and associative in its interpretations than its Palestinian counterpart. The
literary form is that of free- ranging debates, but if these preserve any record
of actual historical discussions, they have been reworked and idealized.
Down to the present day, the “Bavli” provides the most monumental state-
ment of Jewish law.
In a remarkably explicit and political acknowledgment of the grip exegeti-
cal traditions can obtain on a community, Justinian’s Novel 146 of 553
banned exposition of scripture during synagogue services because it is “not
handed down from above by the prophets, but is merely the invention of men
speaking from the earth alone and has nothing of the divine about it.” The
readers must stick to “ipsos codices” (actually scrolls) and not corrupt the
uninstructed by adding extraneous commentary. All must be made aware of
“the depravity of interpreters.” One recalls the same emperor’s restrictions on
legal commentary. In the case of the Jews, Justinian hoped exposure to scrip-
ture on its own terms, preferably in the inspired (albeit translated!) Greek of
the Septuagint and not just in Hebrew, would make them see the light.^55
Shared areas of interest naturally occur in legal systems operative within
the same society or at least state. There may or may not be conceptual kinship
too. Almost contemporary Roman jurists and Jewish sages or rabbis pro-
53 S. Schwartz, “Rabbinization in the sixth century,” in P. Schäfer (ed.), The Talmud Yerushalmi and
Graeco- Roman culture (Tübingen 1998–2002) 3.55–69.
54 D. Goodblatt, “A generation of Talmudic studies,” in Bakhos and Shayegan (eds), Talmud in its
Iranian context [4:64] 3–4, 12–18 (reference courtesy of Daniel Boyarin).
55 Justinian, Novels [6:32] 146. The rabbinical milieu did not adopt the codex before the eighth
century: Goodblatt [6:54], in Bakhos and Shayegan (eds), Talmud in its Iranian context [4:64] 3–4.