Zevachim 34

Doing extra seems to always be a good idea. But maybe there are times when it’s not? On today’s daf, there is a question of bringing “extra” sacrifices. First they question bringing an “kosher” animal. Once they determine that can’t be the situation, the question is if one can bring an undomesticated kosher animal. It seem Riesh Lakish is okay with it. He basically says it’s okay to do things in addition to what God wants. But, the rabbis disagree.

I have told you to bring offerings from the cattle and the flock, but not an undomesticated animal. To what is this comparable? To a student whose teacher told him: Bring me only wheat, and the student brought him wheat and barley. It is not as though the student is adding to the statement of the teacher; rather, it is as though he is disobeying his statement, since his teacher instructed him to bring only wheat. Consequently, one who sacrifices an undomesticated animal does not merely add to a mitzva of the Torah, but also violates a prohibition and the offering is therefore disqualified. The Gemara concludes: The refutation of the opinion of Reish Lakish is indeed a conclusive refutation.

So, maybe ask if it’s okay before you do the “extra.” Maybe the teacher doesn’t want to grade extra work, maybe the person you’re bringing a treat doesn’t want it. It reminds me of when I worked at Starbucks and tried to “hook up” friends who wanted hot chocolate or a mocha by putting in an extra squirt of the chocolate syrup. After doing this a few times I tried it and realized it was nasty with the extra (haha). All to say, sometimes extra is not a good thing. Sometimes we should just listen to what people say they want.

Zevachim 33

We learned about the Gate of Nicanor earlier in our daf studies. The Nicanor Gate was one of the main gates of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, located on the eastern side. It was named after Nicanor of Alexandria, a wealthy Jew who donated the two massive, ornate gates made of Corinthian bronze. According to tradition, the gate was miraculous, having survived a shipwreck during its transport from Alexandria to Jerusalem.

Yesterday, Ulla cited Reish Lakish who rules that the entrance to a place has he legal status of the place to which it leads, in this way, if we put our hands in the entrance, it’s as if we have fully entered. But there is one excpetion! “This is so except for this case of a leper who places hands on his guilt offering, which was done in the threshold of the Nicanor Gate.” This gate is an exception to the rule. It’s specifically denied the status of the Temple courtyard in order to allow people who were ritually defiled to approach the Temple and perform whatever rituals were necessary. As Adin Steinsaltz explains, “In the case of a metzora (leper), for example, part of the ritual that would lead to his being readmitted to society was bringing a number of sacrifices, and also having blood from the sacrifice, as well as oil, placed on his right ear, thumb and big toe (see Vayikra 14:10-32). All of these had to be performed in the Temple courtyard, and only by having the metzora stand in sha’ar Nicanor could this be accomplished.”

My gem is that perfection is impossible. Here we see that it’s impossible to follow all of the laws as outlined in the Torah and elaborated upon by our rabbis. A person who is impure is not allowed in the Temple, but a person must enter the Temple to be purified. Impossible. And so we create the smallest of violations of the law. Only his hands (toe, ear, etc.) can enter at a time – wait! a part represents the whole – okay, then only at the threshold – wait! the threshold represents the whole – okay, then only at this one special threshold can you insert your hands . . .

Perfection is impossible. Following all of God’s laws is impossible, but, we can still try and do our best, even when we know we are falling very short of the goal.

Zevachim 32

Today’s daf is brought to you by “The Hokey Pokey” where you put your right hand in, put your right hand out, and shake it all about!

We learned in the Mishnah, that non-priests can ritually slaughter sacrificial animals. The issue is: How can an impure person (who was included in the list of who can slaughter) slaughter the sacrifice if they are not allowed into the Temple?

The Gemara answers that it is possible, in a case where he inserts his hands into the Temple courtyard and places them on the head of the offering while he remains outside. The Gemara asks: But with regard to slaughter also, it is possible, in a case where he fashions a long knife and slaughters the animal while standing outside the Temple courtyard.

A bit of a hokey pokey if you will.

But not everyone agrees. Ulla says that Reish Lakish says: A ritually impure individual who inserted his hand inside the Temple courtyard is flogged for transgressing the prohibition of entering the Temple. . .

Rav Hoshaya raised an objection to Ulla . . .And if you say that partial entry into the courtyard is considered entry, how does the leper who immersed himself that day insert his hands into the courtyard so that his right thumb and big toe will become purified?

Again, the hokey pokey seems to make the most sense. He puts his right toe in and takes his right toe out and puts his right ear in . . .

Seem ridiculous? Certainly. Perhaps this is why, while biblically possible for someone who is impure to be able to ritually slaughter an animal, rabbinic authorities forbade it as a precaution.

Rabbi Shmuel Herzfeld had a nice reading of the daf today. He said, perhaps this partial entry counting as fill entry (according to Reish Lakish) can teach us all that, even if we can’t fully immerse ourself in a spiritual encounter, we should do what we can, even if it’s only our hands, or an ear, that makes it into the holy space it’s as if we are there completely.

Zevachim 31

And then a hero comes along . . . and the hero is a woman.

Okay, today’s daf was boring me out of my mind. The entire daf discussed a hypothetical question of what’s the ruling if a person has a series of three intentions, the first: to eat half an olive bulk of sacrificial meat after the designated time for doing so, the second: to eat a second half bulk of meat outside of the Temple, and the third is the same as the first intention. So, do 1 and 3 combine? What about the others? What if we burn one?

You can see why I was bored. (Just don’t take a doggie bag when offering sacrifices, then we don’t have to live in the hypotheticals.)

And then, at the bottom of the daf, a hero saved me from boredom:

MISHNA: With regard to all those who are unfit for Temple service who slaughtered an offering, their slaughter is valid, as the slaughter of an offering is valid ab initio when performed even by non-priests, by women, by Canaanite slaves, and by ritually impure individuals. And this is the halakha even with regard to offerings of the most sacred order, provided that the ritually impure will not touch the flesh of the slaughtered animal, thereby rendering it impure.

That’s right!!! A woman can offer a valid sacrifice! Take that non-feminist world. Even the Tosafot around the daf say that this “Mishna is clear proof that women can act as ritual slaughterers.”

Yes! Another reason I say God is a feminist.

Zevachim 30

We are living in a divided time, so this little gem is very important. When discussing two rabbis who seem to have differing rulings on sacrificial designations, the gemara says:

They disagree where they disagree, but they do not disagree where they do not disagree.

Right now, we all feel so divided. People are too right, too left, to pro, too anti. And yes, we disagree. But, maybe we can stop and remember this teaching, that we disagree where we disagree, but we do not disagree where we don’t disagree. Even those who are ideologically opposed to us have a lot in common with us. We agree much more than we may realize. Maybe if we can focus on those points of agreement, we can stop demonizing the “other” side and have (more productive) conversations about the points where we might disagree.

Zevachim 29

It’s funny to see how kids are embarrassed by their parents (not that mine are embarrassed of me or anything . . .). We are each individual people, so you would think that other’s judgement of them would not reflect on us.

On today’s daf, there is a worry that the sins of the husband might be taken out on his wife . . . let’s read and see:

The verse states: “When you shall vow a vow to the Lord your God, you shall not delay paying it; for the Lord your God will require it from you; and it will be sin in you” (Deuteronomy 23:22)

The Gemara responds: Ben Azzai requires that verse to teach: The phrase “and it will be sin in you” indicates that there will be sin in you, but there will not be sin in your wife. It might enter your mind to say: Since Rabbi Elazar said, and some say that it was Rabbi Yoḥanan who said: A man’s wife does not die unless his creditors ask him for money that he owes and he does not have it, as it is stated: “If you do not have with what to pay, why should he take away your bed from under you?” (Proverbs 22:27); therefore, one’s wife also dies for this transgression of the prohibition: You shall not delay, since one has failed to fulfill his commitment. Consequently, the verse teaches us that the sin is imputed to him alone.

So, ladies, don’t worry. If your man is embarrassing, it’s not on you. Kids, same thing, your parents are their own people, you won’t be punished for their behavior. But, let’s be honest, it’s still embarrassing. So, let’s try and do our best people.

Zevachim 28

A tale of tail . . .

On our daf today, we continue to discuss the importance of priests’ intentions (and yes, the song “bad intentions” is playing in my head). Today’s bad intentions involve eating the tail of a sacrifice! In ancient Israelite sacrifices, the priests were not permitted to eat the tail of an animal being sacrificed because the fatty portions, including the fat tail, were specifically reserved for burning on the altar as a special food offering to God. 

I could only think of ox-tail soup. However, I did some internet searching and there is are quite a few pig-tail suggestions, such as braised and crispy-fired pigtails, clearly not kosher. There is also a recipe for beaver tail (apparently a frontier favorite)!

Apparently, the priests sometimes fantasized about eating the tail of animals, and that made the sacrifice piggul – unacceptable. But they liked the fatty butts.

Who knew that when Sir Mix-a-lot said, “I like big butts and I cannot lie” that he may have been referncing the Talmud? (Ok, probably not, but a fun thought.)

Zevachim 27

What are you thinking about?

It’s an annoying question. Yet, Reish Lakish thinks what you think is important! On the daf, Shmuel, Reish Lakish, and Rabbi Yochanan all give their own understandings of why the Mishna disqualifies a sacrifice if its blood was sprinkled either in the wrong location on the altar or on the wrong altar entirely.

Reish Lakish says: Actually, when the mishna states that the offering is disqualified, this is to be taken literally, i.e., that the owner does not even achieve atonement through it. And nevertheless, blood sprinkled not in its proper place is considered as though it were sprinkled in its proper place, and it effects atonement. And the apparent contradiction between these two claims is not difficult: Here, where misapplication of the blood effects atonement, it is a case where he placed it in silence, i.e., without specific intent; there, in the mishna, it is a case where he placed it with a statement, i.e., intent to consume the offering beyond its appointed time.

A bit confusing of a read. But the idea here is that Reish Lakish is saying that the problem is not the misplacement of the blood on the altar, but the intent of the person. They are so busy thinking about eating those barbecue left overs that they’re not paying attention to what they are doing. Their intent is on sneaking food for alter, not on the task at hand.

So, what are you thinking? It matters. If you’re thinking about doing something that’s forbidden when you’re supposed to be doing holy work . . . well, your offer won’t be accepted.

It just has me thinking about the importance of mindfulness and intention. Turns out, whatever you’re doing, the best thing you can do is focus on where you are and what you’re doing.

Zevachim 26

Today’s daf reminds me of a story used to see if someone is ready to study Talmud. I will share that story after the gem:

Shmuel’s father raised a dilemma before Shmuel: If the offering was standing inside the Temple courtyard and its legs were outside, what is the halakha? May one slaughter it? Shmuel said to him: It is written: “That they may bring them to the Lord” (Leviticus 17:5), indicating that the offering may not be slaughtered unless all of it is inside. His father asked him further: If one suspended the animal in the air and slaughtered it, what is the halakha? Shmuel said to him: It is valid. His father said to him: You are mistaken. We require that the slaughter occur on the side of the altar (see Leviticus 1:11), and this is not considered to fulfill that requirement. His father asked him further: If the one slaughtering the animal was suspended in the air and slaughtered the offering while it was on the ground, what is the halakha? Shmuel said to him: It is not valid. His father said to him: You are mistaken. We require only that the slaughter occur on the side of the altar, but not that the one who slaughters be on the side of the altar. His father asked him further: If the priest was suspended in the air and collected the blood of the offering in that position, what is the halakha? Shmuel said to him: It is valid. His father said to him: You are mistaken. This is not a normal manner of ministration. His father asked him further: If the priest suspended the offering in the air after slaughter and collected its blood, what is the halakha? Shmuel said to him: It is not valid. His father said to him: You are mistaken. We require only that the slaughter occur on the side of the altar, but not that collection of the blood occur on the side of the altar.

Poor Shmuel! No matter what he says, his father says he is wrong. Which reminds me of a story . . .

Rabbi Joseph Telushkin recounts this story of Talmudic logic in his book Jewish Humor: What The Best Jewish Jokes Say About the Jews:

A young man in his mid-twenties knocks on the door of the noted scholar Rabbi Shwartz. “My name is Sean Goldstein,” he says. “I’ve come to you because I wish to study Talmud.”

“Do you know Aramaic?” the rabbi asks.

“No,” replies the young man.

“Hebrew?” asks the Rabbi.

“No,” replies the young man again.

“Have you studied Torah?” asks the Rabbi, growing a bit irritated.

“No, Rabbi. But don’t worry. I graduated Berkeley summa cum laude in philosophy, and just finished my doctoral dissertation at Harvard on Socratic logic. So now, I would just like to round out my education with a little study of the Talmud.”

“I seriously doubt,” the rabbi says, “that you are ready to study Talmud. It is the deepest book of our people. If you wish, however, I am willing to examine you in logic, and if you pass that test I will teach you Talmud.”

The young man agrees.

Rabbi Shwartz holds up two fingers. “Two men come down a chimney. One comes out with a clean face, the other comes out with a dirty face. Which one washes his face?”

The young man stares at the rabbi. “Is that the test in logic?”

The rabbi nods.

”The one with the dirty face washes his face,“ he answers wearily.

“Wrong. The one with the clean face washes his face. Examine the simple logic. The one with the dirty face looks at the one with the clean face and thinks his face is clean. The one with the clean face looks at the one with the dirty face and thinks his face is dirty. So the one with the clean face washes his face.”

“Very clever,” Goldstein says. “Give me another test.”

The rabbi again holds up two fingers. “Two men come down a chimney. One comes out with a clean face, the other comes out with a dirty face. Which one washes his face?”

“We have already established that. The one with the clean face washes his face.”

“Wrong. Each one washes his face. Examine the simple logic. The one with the dirty face looks at the one with the clean face and thinks his face is clean. The one with the clean face looks at the one with the dirty face and thinks his face is dirty. So the one with the clean face washes his face. When the one with the dirty face sees the one with the clean face wash his face, he also washes his face. So each one washes his face.”

“I didn’t think of that,” says Goldstein. It’s shocking to me that I could make an error in logic. Test me again.”

The rabbi holds up two fingers. “Two men come down a chimney. One comes out with a clean face, the other comes out with a dirty face. Which one washes his face?”

“Each one washes his face.”

“Wrong. Neither one washes his face. Examine the simple logic. The one with the dirty face looks at the one with the clean face and thinks his face is clean. The one with the clean face looks at the one with the dirty face and thinks his face is dirty. But when the one with the clean face sees the one with the dirty face doesn’t wash his face, he also doesn’t wash his face. So neither one washes his face.”

Goldstein is desperate. “I am qualified to study Talmud. Please give me one more test.”

He groans, though, when the rabbi lifts two fingers. “Two men come down a chimney. One comes out with a clean face, the other comes out with a dirty face. Which one washes his face?”

“Neither one washes his face.”

“Wrong. Do you now see, Sean, why Socratic logic is an insufficient basis for studying Talmud? Tell me, how is it possible for two men to come down the same chimney, and for one to come out with a clean face and the other with a dirty face? Don’t you see? The whole question is “narishkeit”, foolishness, and if you spend your whole life trying to answer foolish questions, all your answers will be foolish, too.”

Zevachim 25

On today’s daf, the great Rabbi Hiyya bar Abba calls Rabbi Zeira תְּרָדָא, which is translated as “imbecile” on the daf. Jastro translates this word as “confused, senseless person, fool, one that lets his spittle run over his beard.” Wow.

This leads to the question: Is it okay for such a great rabbi to call another great rabbi this degrading name?

CHAVOS YA’IR (#152) explains that it was customary that when a Torah teacher noticed his student being lazy in his thinking, he would sometimes call him a derogatory name as a form of rebuke in order to ensure that the student would no longer be lazy in his thinking. 

The SEFER L’RE’ACHA KAMOCHA (vol. 3, Kuntrus ha’Bi’urim, ch. 6) adds that it is common that when two good friends are learning together, they use an interchange of words that would not be appropriate for strangers

Another interpreter says that Amoraim were so holy that there must have been pure intention, but we cannot understand it.

Again, wow.

While calling names is not a good form of education, I do think that we need to call out bad behavior some times. If Zeira was being lazy, it might be healthy for Rabbi Hiyya bar Abba to point it out, he expects more. If they’re friends, sometimes a little ribbing is good fun. But you have to be good friends.

Back in Bava Metzia (83b), Rabbi Yehoshua ben Karcha sent a message to Rebbi Eliezer ben Shimon calling him “Chametz ben Yayin” -“yeast (maybe bloated?), the son of wine.” and he was not offended. However, when someone else called him the same thing, he was furious.

The lesson is that, while there may be certain instances where calling names might fly – best not to use any name but the one someone tells you to call them.

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started