2,711 pages of Talmud. A gem a day.

So, let’s say the woman accused of an affair drinks, and nothing immediately happens – does that mean she is innocent? Our Mishnah says no, that she might have mitzvot that are delaying the reaction, we need to wait and see. Our gem on today discusses how that might work:

The Gemara asks: Does the merit of a mitzva protect one so much as to delay her punishment? But isn’t it taught in a baraita: Rabbi Menaḥem bar Yosei interpreted this verse homiletically: “For the mitzva is a lamp and the Torah is light” (Proverbs 6:23). The verse associates the mitzva with a lamp and the Torah with the light of the sun. The mitzva is associated with a lamp in order to say to you: Just as a lamp does not protect one by its light extensively but only temporarily, while the lamp is in one’s hand, so too, a mitzva protects one only temporarily, i.e., while one is performing the mitzva.

Right now, Miami has a delegation of Jews heading to Israel (over 800). It’s a Jewish practice to give someone traveling to Israel $1 to give as charity – it transforms them into a sheliach mitzvah. Since they are actively doing a mitzvah, they will travel safely. We see from the passage above, the mitzvah only protects you as long as you’re doing it. However, Torah study’s affects are longer lasting. Now we get this beautiful parable.

This can be illustrated by a parable, as it is comparable to a man who is walking in the blackness of night and the darkness, and he is afraid of the thorns, and of the pits, and of the thistles, which he cannot see due to the darkness. And he is also afraid of the wild animals and of the bandits that lurk at night, and he does not know which way he is walking. If a torch of fire comes his way, which is analogous to a mitzva, he is safe from the thorns and from the pits and from the thistles, but he is still afraid of the wild animals and of the bandits, and still does not know which way he is walking. Once the light of dawn rises, which is analogous to Torah study, he is safe from the wild animals and from the bandits, which no longer roam the roads, but he still does not know which way he is walking. If he arrives at a crossroads and recognizes the way, he is saved from all of them.

Gorgeous.

Our synagogue has a stained glass panel in the sanctuary as well as a parochet (drape covering within the ark) in the chapel that says Torah Orah – the Torah is light. May it light your path.

A beautiful little gem on today’s page.

When I came to learn Torah before Rabbi Yishmael, he said to me: My son, what is your vocation? I said to him: I am a scribe [lavlar] who writes Torah scrolls. He said to me: My son, be careful in your work, as your work is the work of Heaven, lest you omit a single letter from the Torah scroll or add a single letter, and in this you are found to be destroying the entire world if the mistake alters the meaning of the verse and results in blasphemy.

I think of all the lives taken in the name of Holy Scripture. How the bible was used to defend slavery, segregation, the oppression of others, the subjugation of women.

As Shakespeare wrote, “The Devil can cite scripture for his purpose.”

But Torah is meant to make the world MORE just, make us love people we wouldn’t otherwise. It’s meant to push us, challenge us, make us holy. When we add or take from it – we are in danger of manipulating scripture to fit OUR will, not the will of God.

So, how do we know when we’re doing it? Rabbi, you certainly pull quotes for your own purposes. True.

Donniel Hartman gives a good too in his book “Putting God Second.” He says that we must read scripture through, and act through, the lens of Hillel’s summary of Torah, “What is hateful to you do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah, all the rest is commentary. Go and learn.”

If my reading of scripture allows me to oppress others – I am reading it wrong. It’s that easy. Or should I say – that challenging. Because it challenges each of us.

The rabbis really don’t want to put a woman through the rite of the Sotah. They try to convince her to admit what she has done, describe what will happen to her, coax her. Every step of the way, they give her a chance to admit what she has done, to confess, to divorce her husband and call it a day. . . But once the name of God has been dissolved in the water – there’s no turning back. Or is there?

The Gemara asks: But does Rabbi Akiva in fact hold that the woman is forced to drink against her will? But isn’t it taught in a baraita (Tosefta 2:3) that Rabbi Yehuda says: A hook [kelabus] made of iron is forcibly placed into her mouth, so that if the scroll was erased and she said: I will not drink, she is forced to drink against her will. Rabbi Akiva said: It is not necessary to force her to drink. Don’t we need to force her to drink the water only in order to evaluate her fidelity? And isn’t she established as having been evaluated when she refuses to drink, as she is essentially admitting her guilt? Rather, Rabbi Akiva’s statement should be understood as follows: Until the handful is sacrificed she can retract her decision to drink the bitter water; however, once the handful is sacrificed she cannot retract her decision to drink.

Wow. So, a woman refusing to drink is as good as a confession. But if God’s name has been desecrated, she can’t back out. You force her.

So why would Rabbi Yehuda say she is not forced? The Gemara answers: This is not difficult; this case, where she is forced to drink, is referring to a situation where she retracts her decision to drink due to fear, as her refusal is not viewed as an admission of guilt, and it is possible that if she drinks she will be found undefiled. And that case, where she does not drink, is referring to a situation where she retracts her decision in a state of good health. Since she does not appear to be afraid, her refusal is viewed as an admission of guilt.

I am blown away by this. If she were going to back out, why not before they publicly tear her clothes and bare her breasts? If it’s truly out of fear that she backs down, or admits- how horrifying this rite must have been! And it makes me wonder about those who aren’t guilty in our courts today but make plea deals because they might be facing death if found guilty. And we have messed up in the past and juries have killed innocent people. Did the rabbis as well?

Hey jealousy.

The thing with the Sotah is that it attempts to put boundaries on how often a man can accuse his wife of having an affair. Our daf seems incredibly reluctant to have anyone perform the ceremony. Today, it wonders about how often a man can put his wife through this ordeal? How many times does she have to prove herself to him? What if he is just a paranoid controlling jealous person?

The Sages taught: The verse states: “This is the law of jealousy” (Numbers 5:29), indicating that the same law is to be carried out in all cases of jealousy. This teaches that the woman drinks and repeats, i.e., she must drink a second time if she becomes a sota again. The baraita continues: Rabbi Yehuda says: The word “this” in the verse is a restricting term, indicating that the woman does not drink and repeat.

So, two opinions, that he can test her more than once, or that he only gets one shot. Or so it seems.

Rabbi Yehuda said: There was an incident in which Neḥunya the ditch digger testified before us in the name of his teachers that the woman drinks and repeats, and we accepted his testimony with regard to two men, but not with regard to one man. Even if she drinks the water of a sota while married to her first husband, she must drink again after violating a warning by her second husband. However, one husband cannot have his wife drink twice.

Pause, notice that the arbiter of the law is a ditch digger. You have to be proud. It’s not every faith where a person with a lowly job like a ditch digger gets to be the proof of what a law should be.

The baraita concludes: And the Rabbis say: The woman does not drink and repeat, whether with regard to one man or with regard to two men. The Gemara asks: But according to the first tanna of the baraita as well, isn’t it written in the verse: “This,” restricting the number of times a woman must drink? And according to the Rabbis mentioned later in the baraita as well, isn’t it written: “The law of jealousy,” amplifying the number of times a woman must drink to include all cases of jealousy? Rava said: Different halakhot apply to different cases: With regard to one husband who accused his wife twice about one paramour, everyone agrees that the woman does not drink and repeat, having been proven innocent once, as it is written: “This is the law of jealousy.” The word “this” is a restricting term and excludes that possibility. With regard to two different husbands and two different paramours, where her first husband suspected her with regard to one paramour during her first marriage and the second husband suspected her with regard to a different man during the second marriage, everyone agrees that the woman drinks and repeats, as it is written: “This is the law of jealousy,” in all cases of jealousy. They disagree when there is one husband and two paramours, i.e., where one husband warned her with regard to a second paramour after she survived her first ordeal. They also disagree in a case of two husbands and one paramour, i.e., if her second husband accused her with regard to the same paramour on account of whom she was compelled to drink by her first husband.

So? Sounds like the husband better be sure that his wife has really had an affair when he accuses her, because he will never be able to test her due to his suspicions with that man again. With another man? That’s debatable. But we see that the law is trying to put boundaries on how paranoid and possessive a jealous husband can be. It seems that they’re trying to say that if she passes he should stop being paranoid and trust his wife. (Also, can’t help but think that a smart woman who wanted to have an affair would make her husband jealous, make him put her to the test, and then after she passes, go have an affair since he will never be bale to test her with regard to that man again. But that’s for another chapter in the book of dramas based on Talmud.)

A beautiful passage (that turns to hellfire) on the daf today:

Rabbi Akiva taught: If a man [ish] and woman [isha] merit reward through a faithful marriage, the Divine Presence rests between them. The words ish and isha are almost identical; the difference between them is the middle letter yod in ish, and the final letter heh in isha. These two letters can be joined to form the name of God spelled yod, heh.

Beautiful! Now the twist . . .

But if due to licentiousness they do not merit reward, the Divine Presence departs, leaving in each word only the letters alef and shin, which spell esh, fire. Therefore, fire consumes them.

It’s true that when a marriage is really solid, it feels holy, Divine even. A beautiful passage. May we all find that in our lives.

Over the past 3+ years of reading the daf every day, there have been many times where the rabbis have gone off on a “what about” tangent where I found myself wondering why they felt the need to discuss hypothetical scenarios that would never happen. so, when Rabbi Yirmeya tries to bring up a hypothetical situation to Rabbi Zeira that would never happen – and Rabbi Zeira shut him down, I knew I had found a gem.

Rabbi Yirmeya raised a dilemma before Rabbi Zeira: If the bird is big and contains such a large amount of blood that it effaces the water, rendering it indistinguishable, or if the bird is small and contains so little blood that its blood is effaced due to the water and indistinguishable, what is the halakha? Rabbi Zeira said to him: Haven’t I told you not to take yourself out of the bounds of the practical halakha? Do not ask questions about impossible eventualities. The Sages measured the ratio of blood to water specifically with regard to a sparrow. There is no sparrow big enough to efface the water, nor is there one small enough to be effaced due to the water.

By the way, may Rabbinical schools (yeshivahs) have classes called “practical halakha.” I love that Rabbi Zeira finally says what I have wanted to say so many times – but at the same time, many things we are learning are no longer practical (there is no longer a sacrificial system, or the possibility to be a Nazir or a rite of the Sotah) and yet we study.

Today’s daf, an old and a new gem.

The old gem was mentioned in Nazir, but just to highlight it again as it’s on our daf: The Gemara answers: Rabbi Shimon holds in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Elazar HaKappar, who says: The nazirite is also a sinner, since he denies himself wine unnecessarily. (As you know, I love that we are supposed to partake in life’s bounty.)

The new gem: The mishna states that Rabban Gamliel says: Just as her actions were the actions of an animal, so too, her offering is animal food. It is taught in a baraita that Rabban Gamliel said to the Sages: Scribes, permit me, and I will explain it as a type of decorative wreath [ḥomer], i.e., an allegory. (You gotta love that expression.) And why did Rabban Gamliel speak up? It was because he heard Rabbi Meir saying an alternative explanation: She fed him, i.e., her paramour, delicacies from around the world; therefore, her offering is animal food. Rabban Gamliel said to him: Your explanation works out well in the case of a rich sota, but with regard to a poor sota, who cannot afford such delicacies, what is there to say? Rather, the reason she brings an offering of animal food is: Just as her actions were the actions of an animal, so too her offering is animal food.

The rabbis are discussing why the Sotah brings a grain offering. Here, we have two opinions, 1) because she fed her lover food from around the world, and 2) because she acted like an animal. I love that Rabbi Meir assumes she must be a sugar momma. Maybe because he married so well. His wife, Beruriah, is learned in Talmud and a scholar in her own right. You wouldn’t step on on the best unless she can offer you delicacies you would never have otherwise – or so he assumes.

As Destiny’s Child said:

The shoes on my feet, I bought ’em
The clothes I’m wearing, I bought ’em
The rock I’m rocking, I bought it
‘Cause I depend on me if I want it
The watch I’m wearing, I bought it
The house I live in, I bought it
The car I’m driving, I bought it
I depend on me

There is a concept called imitatio dei, imitation of God. While we are not supposed to think of ourselves as God (that’s idolatry) or enact God’s judgement or vengeance (those are reserved for God only), the highest most righteous way for us to live is to live a life that mimics God’s kindness, mercy, and forbearance. We are to “walk in God’s ways” and be God’s hands. Our daf explains:

And Rabbi Ḥama, son of Rabbi Ḥanina, says: What is the meaning of that which is written: “After the Lord your God shall you walk, and Him shall you fear, and His commandments shall you keep, and unto His voice shall you hearken, and Him shall you serve, and unto Him shall you cleave” (Deuteronomy 13:5)? But is it actually possible for a person to follow the Divine Presence? But hasn’t it already been stated: “For the Lord your God is a devouring fire, a jealous God” (Deuteronomy 4:24), and one cannot approach fire. He explains: Rather, the meaning is that one should follow the attributes of the Holy One, Blessed be He. He provides several examples. Just as He clothes the naked, as it is written: “And the Lord God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skin, and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21), so too, should you clothe the naked. Just as the Holy One, Blessed be He, visits the sick, as it is written with regard to God’s appearing to Abraham following his circumcision: “And the Lord appeared unto him by the terebinths of Mamre” (Genesis 18:1), so too, should you visit the sick. Just as the Holy One, Blessed be He, consoles mourners, as it is written: “And it came to pass after the death of Abraham, that God blessed Isaac his son” (Genesis 25:11), so too, should you console mourners. Just as the Holy One, Blessed be He, buried the dead, as it is written: “And he was buried in the valley in the land of Moab” (Deuteronomy 34:6), so too, should you bury the dead.

What it means to walk in God’s ways is to clothe the naked, visit the sick, console mourners, bury the dead . . . notice how each asks us to take care of one another. This passage along with Mishnah Peah are brought together to form the Eilu Devarim prayer, a prayer we recite every morning (traditionally) that reminds us to follow the mitzvot of honoring parents; acts of kindness; attending the house of study; providing hospitality; visiting the sick; helping the needy bride; attending the dead; concentrating on the meaning of prayer; making peace between one person and another. And the study of Torah is equal to them all.

Another little gem is:

Rabbi Samlai taught: With regard to the Torah, its beginning is an act of kindness and its end is an act of kindness. Its beginning is an act of kindness, as it is written: “And the Lord God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skin, and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21). And its end is an act of kindness, as it is written: “And he was buried in the valley in the land of Moab” (Deuteronomy 34:6).

Love this. There is a literary device (can you remember the fancy name? I am coming up blank) whereby, if something begins and ends with the same idea, it teaches everything in between is that as well. So, we learn that the Torah, in its entirety, is about acts of kindness.

Now that’s a gem.

In Exodus 13:19 we read, “Moses took the bones of Joseph with him because Joseph had made the Israelites swear an oath. He had said, ‘God will surely come to your aid, and then you must carry my bones up with you from this place.'”

Now, remember, this is hundreds of years later, so our daf asks a good question:

The Gemara asks: And from where did Moses our teacher know where Joseph was buried?

And a very cool answer:

The Sages said: Serah, the daughter of Asher, remained from that generation that initially descended to Egypt with Jacob.

The rabbis are working with an oddity in the Torah. In the census of who went to Egypt when Jacob and his sons went, Serach bat Asher (Asher’s daughter Serach) is listed. But, when we get the list of who leaves Egypt – she is still there! Who is this amazingly long lived woman? Well, according to midrash, she is the one who told Jacob (while playing the harp) that Joseph was still alive. She appears in the house of study to explain to the rabbis what the walls of the Reed Sea looked like when they parted. And, she also knows where Joseph’s bones were buried.

Moses went to her and said to her: Do you know anything about where Joseph is buried? She said to him: The Egyptians fashioned a metal casket for him and set it in the Nile [Nilus] River as an augury so that its water would be blessed. Moses went and stood on the bank of the Nile. He said to Joseph: Joseph, Joseph, the time has arrived about which the Holy One, Blessed be He, took an oath saying that I, i.e., God, will redeem you. And the time for fulfillment of the oath that you administered to the Jewish people that they will bury you in Eretz Yisrael has arrived. If you show yourself, it is good, but if not, we are clear from your oath. Immediately, the casket of Joseph floated to the top of the water.

The gem of Serah bat Asher is enough. But there are two other beautiful images we have here. One is that Joseph’s bones were in the Nile to keep the water sweet. The second is the carrying of the bones of our ancestors.

How does the memory of our loved ones make life sweeter? How do we carry them with us?

Another great daf for Passover! It mostly discusses Miriam and her heroic and prophetic roles. But the gem was a line that hit home for me.

When Henry was a baby, if heard another baby cry, the water works would start. I thought he was the most empathetic baby on the planet. Well, turns out, he’s not so unique (well, he is, just not in that way):

The next verse states about Jochebed hiding Moses: “And when she could no longer hide him” (Exodus 2:3). The Gemara asks: Why couldn’t she hide him any longer? Let her continue to hide him. Rather, anywhere that the Egyptians heard that a baby was born and they wanted to locate the baby, they would bring another baby there in order that it could be heard crying, and the two babies would cry together. . .

Ah! They used the inherent empathy babies have when they hear another crying to figure out where babies were being hid.

We are empathetic creatures from birth. The world makes us grow a shell. There is so much pain it’s hard to function, to not drown in our own tears, so we turn inward. But let’s let those babies teach us. Let’s let the tears of others move us – maybe then we can come together to create a better world.