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

So, if you remember back to studying tractate Pesach (and other locations as well), you will recall that an olive bulk of something is required to constitute having eaten it. So, if someone eats less than an olive bulk of something forbidden (unintentionally), it’s not the end of the world. Yesterday, the daf taught us that, for a nazir, even less than an olive bulk of forbidden food is a violation. So, they can’t eat a grape skin or two grapeseeds. For a nazir, ANY amount is too much.

Today’s daf teaches us that, when defining the amount of food that needs to be eaten to either fulfill of violate a commandment. That it’s not only the volume (more or less than an olive bulk) but also at the amount of time during which the act of eating is performed.

Rav Dimi said to him: No; what is the meaning of an olive-bulk in this mishna? It means that there is enough teruma in the mixture so that when one eats from the mixture he will consume an olive-bulk of teruma in the time it takes to eat a half-loaf of bread.

Abaye asked him: But is eating an olive-bulk in the time it takes to eat a half-loaf of bread prohibited by Torah law, and is one flogged for it? Rav Dimi said to him: Yes.

They then go on to use the example of a really strong condiment where no one could possibly eat an olive bulk in less time than it would take to eat a half loaf of bread.

So, what’s a condiment you love but only eat a tiny bit of?

I think of wasabi. In particular I think of the movie Cars 2 where Tomater eats it thinking it’s ice-cream. If you don’t know it click here.

People have strange pet peeves. One of my mom’s was when someone used i.e. and they meant etc. or vise versa. Today’s daf seems to have this kind of issue. It is all about when to use which halakhic devices when. Today’s obsession – When the Torah/Talmud teaches a generalization followed by a detail verse when it shares a detail followed by a generalization. . . then it wonders about generalizations followed by details followed by another generalization and it’s opposite.

Now, in the case of a generalization, and a detail, and a generalization, one derives that all items which are like the detail are included. However, if that is so, what purpose does the last generalization stated in the verse serve? The same conclusion would be reached if the verse had stated merely a generalization and a detail. The Gemara answers: The purpose of the last generalization is to add all that is similar to it, i.e., even those articles or cases not explicitly listed among the details. And furthermore, in the case of a detail, and a generalization, and a detail, one again derives that all items which are like the detail are included. If so, what purpose does the last detail stated in the verse serve? The same conclusion would apply if there was simply a detail and a generalization. The Gemara answers: If it were not for the last detail, I would say that the generalization becomes added to the detail, which is broadened in all possible ways. Therefore, the last detail limits the generalization to items or cases that are similar to the detail.

So, maybe it’s saying you need the last detail to be an i.e. situation instead of an ect. situation. An etc. situation has no upper limits of what it might apply to.

The Gemara continues this line of questioning. And now that it has been established that both with regard to two generalizations and a detail, i.e., a generalization, a detail, and a generalization, and two details and a generalization, i.e., a detail, a generalization, and a detail, one derives that all items that are like the detail are included, what difference is there between this method and that one? The two methods are apparently identical. The Gemara answers: There is a difference between them, as whereas in a case of two generalizations and a detail, if there is another detail that is similar to the detail specified in the verse even in one aspect, one includes it, due to the two generalizations. By contrast, in the case of two details and a generalization, if there is another detail that is similar to the one mentioned in the verse in two aspects, one includes it. However, if it is similar in only one aspect one does not include it, as the halakha is limited by two details.

Confused? You’re not alone.

Let’s say you’re at my house and you’re hungry and I say, “Help yourself to an apple or anything you want.” I have gone from specific to general. You might assume from this that I am inviting you to eat anything – even my leftovers that I have been looking forward to eating for dinner. And maybe I don’t actually mean “anything.” So, adding another detail after the generalization helps us to understand what I really mean with my offer. “Help yourself to an apple or whatever you want or some berries” hints that I am offering fruit, not really anything in the fridge. The Gemara is emphasizing how details help to limit the options whereas the generalizations open up the options. Much like etc opens options that have not been mentioned while i.e. is all inclusive and has mentioned everything that it means to include.

Not so riveting. But may you use i.e. and etc. correctly. etc.

Here’s our seemingly odd Mishna – but things are not always what they seem.

MISHNA: Someone saw a kosher animal with characteristics of both a domesticated animal and a non-domesticated animal [koy], and said: I am hereby a nazirite if this is a non-domesticated animal; and another individual said: I am hereby a nazirite if this is not a non-domesticated animal; and a third person said: I am hereby a nazirite if this is a domesticated animal; and a fourth said: I am hereby a nazirite if this not a domesticated animal. The mishna continues: A fifth person added: I am hereby a nazirite if this is a non-domesticated animal and a domesticated animal, and a sixth person said: I am hereby a nazirite if this is neither a non-domesticated animal nor a domesticated animal. Someone who heard all the above statements said: I am hereby a nazirite if one of you is a nazirite, and another one stated: I am hereby a nazirite if not one of you is a nazirite, and a final person said: I am hereby a nazirite if all of you are nazirites. In this case, they are all nazirites.

Now, if you are like me, you are reading this and understanding that 6 people are seeing the same animal and making bets on what classification of animal it is (and two more overhear and make bets on who is right). One says it’s domesticated, one says it’s not, one says it has characteristics of both domesticated and undomesticated and another says it doesn’t have either . . . all seem at odds – not everyone can be right. So, how is it that the Mishna can conclude that they’re all nazarites?!

This is where rabbis having discussions to parse out what in the world the Mishna means is helpful. So . . . one idea is that these individuals (who might all be one individual – but that’s another point) are not making their vow dependent on if the animal is domesticated of not. they are actually vowing to be a nazir no matter what – but the kind of nazir is dependent on the kind of animal. If the status of the animal is “vadia,” certain, then he will be a vadai Nazir – a nazir of certain status. However, if the animal is a “safek,” doubtful animal, he will be a doubtful Nazir.

So, maybe these guys are not just gambling, not just flipping a coin to decide this major life choice – but trying to figure out how to best make their commitment and relying on signs to help.

To quote Ace of Base, “I saw the sign, and it opened up my eyes. Life is demanding without understanding.”

A quote from Woody Allen, “There’s an old joke – um… two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of ’em says, “Boy, the food at this place is really terrible.” The other one says, “Yeah, I know; and such small portions.” Well, that’s essentially how I feel about life – full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it’s all over much too quickly.” Well, today’s daf is kinda boring and it’s really short. If you look a the picture below, the tiny paragraph in the center of the page – yes, those 6 little lines, is all it is. What does it consist of? A continuation from yesterday (that will be continuing tomorrow) and if you’re a nazir if you’re in a group and see someone walking towards you and say “If that’s so-and-so, I will become a Nazir.” then, what happens if you never see who it is? Riveting. But hey, at least we can relate to Woody Allen in that we wish it would be longer to have more possibilities of finding gems.

Ever make a promise thinking you would have time/resources or the consequences of that promise would be one thing – only to find out the consequences were different or the resources you needed to fulfill the promise are more than you can give? Our Mishnah teaches, “With regard to one who took a vow of naziriteship and went to bring his animal which he set aside for his nazirite offering and discovered that it was stolen, and due to the need to separate an additional animal now regrets having taken his vow, if he took a vow of naziriteship before his animal was stolen, he is a nazirite, as a vow cannot be dissolved as the result of a later event.”

So, we see a situation where a person was comfortable being down one animal for the sacrifice, but now that they see an animal has been stolen – they don’t want to part with another – the request is too much to ask.

Then we get this amazing story.

And this was the error that Naḥum the Mede erred when he failed to distinguish between an event that occurred before the vow was taken and an event that occurred afterward. The incident in question was as follows: When nazirites were ascending from the exile to sacrifice their offerings, and they found the Temple destroyed, Naḥum the Mede said to them: If you had known that the Temple would be destroyed, would you have taken a vow of naziriteship? They said to him: Certainly not, as there is no remedy for a naziriteship in this case. And Naḥum the Mede dissolved the vow for them.

You can read accounts of those who saw the Temple fall. You can read the history. But here, we get a different perspective. Those living in the Diaspora who make a promise that requires them to go to the Temple and offer a sacrifice. You can imagine their excitement as they make their way toward to Holy Land, only to see the devastation of the Temple destroyed.

Now what?

That’s what every Jew wondered. Now, without the Temple, what would Judaism look like? Where would we gather? How would we serve God? How would we stay connected? But, the question, now what, was also a very immediate and tangible question.

Nahum the Mede dissolves their vow. But that was certainly the least of their worries. How interesting how we go to technical issues when adaptive change is what is needed. We focus on the practical when it’s really the existential that’s on the table.

Today’s daf grapples with if you can consecrate something by mistake. Beit Shammai says yes, Hillel says no.

Beit Shammai say: Consecration that one performs in error nevertheless renders property consecrated, and Beit Hillel say it is not consecrated. How so; what is considered an act of erroneous consecration? If one said: A black bull that will emerge from my house first is consecrated, and a white bull emerged first, Beit Shammai say it is consecrated and Beit Hillel say it is not consecrated. Similarly, if one said: A gold dinar that will come up first in my hand is consecrated, and when he reached into his pocket a dinar of silver came up, Beit Shammai say it is consecrated and Beit Hillel say it is not consecrated.

This continues with more examples, but you get the point.

There are lots of questions here concerning wha the person intends. Do they intend to give only if a black bull emerges? Or just the first of any color? Or the first black bull regardless of if a white one comes before? Is the person trying to not give? Are they gambling?

The Gemara grapples with these and more, all in an attempt to answer the question of if a mistaken vow is a real vow or not.

And I think of all the things we think we are committing to, only to find out things are not what we thought they would be. It might be a job, a boss, a marriage a friendship, a gym membership . . . so much in life is a roll of the die. So, when things don’t turn out how you hoped – are you still in? Are you bound?

Today’s daf tells us:

With regard to one whose father was a nazirite and his father separated money for his naziriteship and died, and the son said: I am hereby a nazirite on the condition that I can shave by using my father’s money, this is the one who can shave by means of his father’s money. However, if a son and his father were both nazirites, and his father separated money for his own naziriteship and died, this money is allocated for communal gift offerings. This is the statement of Rabbi Yosei.

Rabbi Yosei discusses a case where the son makes a vow to be a nazir in the wake of his father’s death. This is in opposition to a case where the father and son were both nazirim at the same time, in which case the son would have an obligation to bring his own money and cannot use his father’s money. However, Rabbi Yosie is teaching that, when he learns of his father’s death (his father who had been a nazir) then he can use money the father had put aside to complete the term of being a nazir (with all the costs of the sacrifices, the shaving, etc.)

I liked Rabbi Yosei’s reading because he puts us into the mindset of a mourner. Mourners want to do for their dead. As opposed to viewing the money set aside for the sacrifice as an inheritance, the money sat aside begs the child to ask – what has your father left undone? What mitzvah’s can you do on his behalf? How can your father be an inspiration to do good?

Father Knows Best was a TV series released in 1954, however, before that, it was a radio show which began in 1949. However, the idea that “father knows best” goes back much further than that. But, so does the fact that sometimes, what dad thinks is best – everyone else thinks is harming the child?

The mishna teaches: If he objected, or his relatives objected for him, the naziriteship is canceled, as the transmitted halakha may be that the acquiescence of the relatives is necessary. The Gemara continues its question: However, according to the opinion of Rabbi Yosei, son of Rabbi Ḥanina, who said that Reish Lakish said that this vow serves educational purposes, is this really in the power of the relatives to say to the father: Do not teach him mitzvot? The Gemara answers: Reish Lakish holds that with regard to any education that is not important, e.g., the optional mitzva of naziriteship, the son is not amenable to the suffering he must endure for this purpose, and therefore he or his relatives can object.

So, here, the father can make his son a nazir for educational purposes, but if the boy doesn’t want it, or if his relatives think his dad is off-his-rocker or harming the boy – they can object and cancel the vow.

I really like this because every child needs more adults in their lives. They need people to stand up for them and for what they think is right. While it’s a very delicate thing to disagree with how someone is parenting a child, sometimes it’s important to intervene. And, it also reminds us that children learn from others in addition to their parents. They learn from friends, other adults in their orbit, and even from TV shows. How wonderful to help educate children. How wonderful to be good role models, not just for your own, but for others’.

Today’s daf wonders when is the last possible moment a husband can nullify his wife’s vow as a nazir. And the answers are telling/alarming/amusing. They picture the blood of her sacrifice for completing her nazariteship being brought. Rabbi Akiva says he cannot nullify her vow, not even before the blood is sprinkled. But Rabbi Meir says he can. Why? Why would a husband want to nullify his wife’s vow if she was at the end? Right there at the finish line? We get two reasons:

1. He wants a party girl (or a buzzed girl).
   • We read of one situation where her nazariteship is lasting too long: However, if she is sacrificing the offerings for her shaving of impurity, when she became ritually impure during her term of naziriteship, after which she restarts her naziriteship (see Numbers 6:9), her husband can nullify her vow. The reason is that he can say: I do not want a downcast [menuvvelet] wife, who does not drink wine. She would have to refrain from wine for a lengthy period if she were to begin her naziriteship anew.
   • And another later where he just wants her to be able to have a drink and relax! And since she becomes downcast through her abstinence from wine, evidently the husband can nullify her vow even after the sprinkling of the blood of her offerings of purity.
2. He likes long hair and doesn’t care. And Rabbi Meir says: He may even nullify the vow at her shaving of purity because he can say: I do not want a shaven wife. The Gemara analyzes these opinions: And the first tanna could have said to you in response to Rabbi Meir’s argument: It is possible for her to compensate by wearing a wig, and therefore she would not appear shaven, and her husband would have no cause for complaint. And Rabbi Meir holds: As for compensating by wearing a wig, since it is dirty he is not amenable to this solution, and he may therefore nullify her vow.

So, a man can annul her vow – even at the last minute because he wants a long haired woman who drinks . . .

(Makes me so frustrated, undermining her desires like that for his enjoyment. Makes me want to let down my hair and have a glass of wine . . . hey – wait a minute!)

What is truly ours to give? That’s a question our Gemara has been grappling with over the past two dapim (pages).

The Gemara has been discussing cases where an animal was set aside to serve as a sacrifice and then that sacrifice can no longer be brought. In some cases the designated animal might be switched to a similar sacrifice, however, if it was a sin offering it cannot be switched (and then we get the nasty ruling to let the animal die of deprivation).

Today, we get an interesting question. When he and his father were both nazirites, and his father separated money for the offerings of his naziriteship and died, and the son said: I am hereby a nazirite on the condition that I will shave, i.e., bring my offerings, through the money my father set aside, in that case he cannot shave for his father’s naziriteship. . . Rava raises an objection. The Torah states: “And he shall bring for his offering” (Leviticus 4:23), which indicates: He fulfills his obligation with his own offering, but he does not fulfill his obligation with his father’s offering, if his father was obligated to bring a sin-offering and died after separating an animal for this purpose.

Here, the Rava emphasizes that the biblical verse says “his sacrifice,” his, and no one else’s. What makes this less than obvious, is that when the father dies, the son inherits any un-sacrificed animal designated as a sin-offering. It’s interesting as a son not only inherits material goods from his father, but also does mitzvot on his father’s behalf. So, by limiting the sacrifice, the daf emphasizes the need for the sin-offering to be uniquely his and no one else’s.

So, we wonder – what is really ours to give? What responsibilities have I inherited? How can I do mitzvot in honor of those who came before me? How can I make those mitzvot uniquely mine?