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

MISHNA: For one who vows that a bed is forbidden to him, it is permitted to lie in a dargash, which is not commonly called a bed; this is the statement of Rabbi Meir. And the Rabbis say: A dargash is included in the category of a bed. Everyone agrees that for one who vows that a dargash is forbidden to him, it is permitted to lie in a bed.

Okay, today’s gem might only be a gem because I had to sleep on the couch last week two nights in a row. I had a cold and I needed to stay elevated or I couldn’t stop couching. But, is a couch a bed? What counts as a bed?

The GEMARA asks: What is a dargash? Ulla said: It is a bed of good fortune.

The rest of the section debates what exactly is a dargash. At times it sounds like a hammock, at times it sounds like a leather cot.

The real question I have studying this section is: What are these vow makers thinking? Why vow off beds? Why vow off vegetables? Houses?

I love my bed. I am excited to sleep in it. Nothing compares to your own bed. I will pass on the dargash – whatever it is.

The Talmud spends a lot of time arguing about nuance. Sometimes it’s fascinating, sometimes the reader is just eager for the conversation to go on to the next thing. Today’s gem involves Rava being impatient with his colleagues’ conversation, his apparent arrogance, and his eventual apology:

The rabbis were debating the definition of “alalta.” The messengers returned with the answer to his question and came before Rava. He said: That was not a dilemma for me, i.e., the fact that alalta means all items that grow. This is the matter that is a dilemma for me: What is the legal status of profits from the rent of houses and the rent of boats? Do we say: Since they depreciate, their legal status is not comparable to that of a crop? Only items that are consistently profitable are similar to crops. House boats deteriorate with use, and their depreciation diminishes the profits. Or perhaps, since their depreciation is not conspicuous, their legal status is comparable to that of a crop.

Rava wants to move on from the debate about the definition of “alalta” and wants to talk about its application in another area. But his dismissal is disrespectful.

The Rabbis stated Rava’s reaction before Rav Yosef. Rav Yosef said: And since he does not need us, and he believes that he knows the answer himself, why did he send us the question? Rav Yosef became angry with Rava.

Rava heard that Rav Yosef was angry and came before him on Yom Kippur eve to appease him. He found the attendant of Rav Yosef, who was diluting a cup of wine with water before him. Rava said to the attendant: Give me the cup so that I will dilute the wine for him. The attendant gave it to him and Rava diluted the cup of wine. While Rav Yosef, who was blind, was drinking the wine, he said: This dilution is similar to the dilution of Rava, son of Rav Yosef bar Ḥama, who would dilute wine with more than the standard amount of water. Rava said to him: Correct, it is he.

Rav Yosef said to Rava: Do not sit on your feet until you tell me the explanation of this matter: What is the meaning of that which is written: “And from the wilderness Mattana and from Mattana Nahaliel, and from Nahaliel Bamot” (Numbers 21:18–19)?

Rava said to him that it means: Once a person renders himself like a wilderness, deserted before all, the Torah is given to him as a gift [mattana], as it is stated: “And from the wilderness Mattana.” And once it is given to him as a gift, God bequeaths [naḥalo] it to him, as it is stated: “And from Mattana Nahaliel.” And once God bequeaths it to him, he rises to greatness, as it is stated: And from Nahaliel, Bamot, which are elevated places. And if he elevates himself and is arrogant about his Torah, the Holy One, Blessed be He, degrades him, as it is stated: “And from Bamot the valley” (Numbers 21:20). And not only is he degraded, but one lowers him into the ground, as it is stated: “And looking over [nishkafa] the face of the wasteland” (Numbers 21:20), like a threshold [iskopa] that is sunken into the ground. And if he reverses his arrogance and becomes humble, the Holy One, Blessed be He, elevates him, as it is stated: “Every valley shall be lifted” (Isaiah 40:4). When Rav Yosef heard that interpretation, he understood that Rava was aware of the error of his ways in acting arrogantly toward his teacher, and was pacified by Rava’s display of humility.

A beautiful lesson in humility.

But what does it mean to “Become Like the Wilderness?” Eitan Fishbane, teaches:

R. Bahya asks, restating an earlier midrashic teaching (Tanhuma, 6; Bemidbar Rabbah, 1:7): why does the Torah emphasize God’s speech to Moshe in the wilderness of Sinai ( בְּמִדְבַּר סִינַי )? It was to teach that “a persondoes not attain the Torah until they have made themselves empty and abandoned like the wilderness” ( אין אדם קונה התורה עד שיעשה עצמו הפקר כמדבר ) [commentary to Num. 1:1]. To receive the revelation of Torah—or perhaps a bit less grandly, to let Torah take root in one’s heart—a person must first make themselves into a midbar, an inner empty wilderness that is cleared of all the weeds and brush that obstruct true perception and feeling. A wilderness that returns to the first purity of nature.

Just as divine revelation and the Torah arise from the physical space of wilderness, of midbar—at the burning bush and then at Mount Sinai—a heart infused with divine Torah arises through a person’s mindful cultivation of their own interior wilderness. One should seek to attain the level of hefker—of feeling unbound by the pride and egoism of ownership, of being unattached to materialism. In hefker consciousness, we train our spiritual sight to see the Divine Presence that dwells beneath the surface, beneath the many golden calves of our obsessions, possessions, and wayward priorities. This is a radical reinvention of the concept of hefker, a neutral halakhic category of abandonment and ownerlessness (e.g. BT Eruvin, 45b).

In this transformed reading, the midbar may be said to embody a pure state of emptiness—an inner cleansing that allows us to go deeper into the spiritual path. Becoming hefker kemidbar, empty like the wilderness, is a process of letting go of our imprisonment in materiality, in ephemeral and finite desires—to be liberated into the vastness of an inner wilderness.

Tomatoes have legally been vegetables since the Supreme Court declared them vegetables in 1893. But, ask and scientist and they will tell you that, by definition, they are a fruit. Today’s daf has a bit of the classic debate – but with gourds.

MISHNA: For one who vows that vegetables are forbidden to him, it is permitted for him to eat gourds, as people typically do not include gourds in the category of vegetables; and Rabbi Akiva prohibits him from eating gourds.

So! It all depends – is a gourd a vegetable or a fruit?!

GEMARA: We learned in the mishna: For one who vows that vegetables are forbidden to him, it is permitted to eat gourds, and Rabbi Akiva prohibits him from eating gourds. The Gemara questions Rabbi Akiva’s ruling: But how can his vow include gourds, which are fruits and not vegetables; didn’t he vow to refrain from eating vegetables? Ulla said: The mishna is referring to one who said: Vegetables cooked in a pot are forbidden to me. Gourds are included in the category of vegetables cooked in a pot. The Gemara asks: And if that is what he said, perhaps he is saying: A vegetable that is eaten in a pot, i.e., a vegetable that is added to flavor the food cooked in the pot, is forbidden to me? The Gemara answers: The mishna is referring to one who said: A vegetable that is cooked in a pot is forbidden to me, a statement that can include gourds.

Wow! Spot on, the same argument the Supreme Court made! Just like gourds, tomatoes are technically fruit, but you prepare them and use them in cooking like vegetables – so when someone says vegetable, it’s possible they are referring to a gourd (or a tomato).

What do you think? Is a tomato a vegetable? A fruit? What’s gourd?

A Brit and an American might both say, “I am pissed,” but they would mean very different things. In the UK it means drunk, for the US, it means angry. Likewise, if we are eating biscuits while watching football, and American would be eating buttery-flakey bread while watching American football while a Brit would be eating a cake watching soccer. So it is that today, we learn that where we say our vows determines what the consequences of that vow mean.

GEMARA: It is taught in a baraita: With regard to one who vows that oil is forbidden to him, if he is in Eretz Yisrael he is permitted to eat sesame oil and is prohibited from eating olive oil, as in Eretz Yisrael the unspecified term oil refers to olive oil. And if he took the vow in Babylonia, sesame oil is forbidden to him, as oil in Babylonia was generally made from sesame seeds, and it is permitted for him to eat olive oil, which was rarely used there.

Ha! Look at that. Now I am sure you’re wondering, what about in our world today where there are so many kinds of oil?

If he takes the vow in a locale where people use both this type of oil and that type, he is prohibited from eating both this type and that.

Clear, yet, the Gemara asks with regard to the last statement: Isn’t it obvious that he is prohibited from eating both types of oil? The statement seems superfluous. The Gemara answers: No, it is not superfluous. It is necessary only to teach that this is the halakha even where most people use only one type of oil. Lest you say: I should follow the majority and permit the other kind of oil, the baraita teaches us that an uncertain Torah prohibition is treated stringently.

Here is our Talmudic term/rule for the day:

סָפֵק אִיסּוּרָא לְחוּמְרָא

“Safeik isura lechumra” — “When there is a doubt, we must act stringently.”

Now, I hope you have a Shabbat Shalom (and I know that means different things to different people as well).

As a kid, I hated tomatoes. My mom would argue that, since I liked spaghetti sauce, that meant I really liked them. Not true. In my mind – not even the same thing.

The daf makes a similar claim today:

If one says: This produce is konam upon me, and for that reason I will not eat them, or: This produce is konam upon me, and for that reason I will not taste them, he is permitted to eat their replacements and anything that grows from them. It may be inferred that liquids that emerge from them are forbidden. The Gemara rejects this argument: Since that mishna did not cite liquids that emerge from them in the first clause, it did not cite liquids that emerge from them in the latter clause either. Therefore, it cannot be inferred that liquids that come from the produce are forbidden.

So, if I say I won’t eat grapes, I can still have wine. If I say I don’t eat tomatoes, I can still love red sauce. You can like grapes and not raisins – they’re different, even though they’re the same.

Wow, what a daf. First, there is Bar Kappara who is acting a fool and making Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi laugh. Then, there is a raucous party where Kappara makes Rabbi Yehuda haNasi dance for him and embarrasses his son-in-law. But the real gem is a comment by the Tosafot as to a debate these two rabbis are having.

First the wedding scene, then I will tell you about the commentary.

Bar Kappara said to the daughter of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, whose husband’s name was ben Elasa: Tomorrow I will drink wine at your father’s dancing and your mother’s singing [kirekanei]. Ben Elasa was the son-in-law of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi and was a very wealthy man. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi invited him to the wedding of Rabbi Shimon, son of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi.

Bar Kappara said to Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi at the wedding: What is the meaning of the word to’eva, abomination, used by the Torah to describe homosexual intercourse (see Leviticus 18:22)? Whatever it was that Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said to bar Kappara in explanation, claiming that this is the meaning of to’eva, bar Kappara refuted it by proving otherwise. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said to him: You explain it. Bar Kappara said to him: Let your wife come and pour me a goblet of wine. She came and poured him wine. Bar Kappara then said to Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi: Arise and dance for me, so that I will tell you the meaning of the word: This is what the Merciful One is saying in the Torah in the word to’eva: You are straying after it [to’e ata bah], i.e., after an atypical mate.

When they came to drink another cup, bar Kappara said to him: What is the meaning of the word tevel, perversion, as in the verse: “Neither shall any woman stand before a beast, to lie down thereto; it is perversion [tevel]” (Leviticus 18:23)? Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said various explanations to him, as he did the previous time, which were all refuted again by bar Kappara. Bar Kappara then said to him: Perform for me as you did before, so that I will tell you. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi did so. Bar Kappara then said to him that the phrase: “It is tevel” means: Does it have any spice [tevalin yesh bah]? Is this act of sexual intercourse with an animal different than all other acts of sexual intercourse, which would cause one to engage in such a repulsive action?

Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said to bar Kappara: And what is the meaning of the word zimma, lewdness, as in the verse: “They are near kinswomen; it is lewdness [zimma]” (Leviticus 18:17), stated with regard to a man who engages in sexual intercourse with a woman and her daughter? He said to him: Perform for me as you did the previous time. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi did so, and bar Kappara said to him that zimma means: What is she [zo ma hi]? This man would be confused about how to refer to his wives; his wife is also his other wife’s mother or daughter. Ben Elasa could not tolerate Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi’s humiliation, so he and his wife arose and left the wedding.

What a scene! We have to wonder, is it just that Bar Kappara is the only person who can really make Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi laugh and act a fool and for that Rabbi loves him? Or is Bar Kappara purposefully trying to embarrass this great Rabbi? I like to think he’s his bestie and that Rabbi has the best times when he is around.

But the real gem is in the debate over the word to’eva. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi gives an answer but Bar Kappara says he is wrong and that it means, to’eva: You are straying after it [to’e ata bah]. To this the Tosafot comment: “You are erring regarding it – for they abandon their wives and go to homosexuality.” So, the sin would not be the homosexual act, it would be the abandonment of your spouse for this side relationship. The sin is abandoning his family and destroying the family unit.

I wonder how Bar Kappara would feel about those “religious” individuals who tell homosexuals to deny their feelings and marry the opposite sex. Maybe he is not just a fabulous friend who knows how to make even the most serious of rabbis cut loose – maybe he is a progressive guy who understands that the only sin of homosexuality is the sin of making people live lives that don’t reflect who God made them to be? The sin of hurting someone else because you can’t accept who you are?

Two great stories on today’s daf. The first is about Rabbi Akiva and his wife. Rabbi Akiva only went and began to learn late in life. He was notoriously poor. Yet his wife loved him, gave up a comfortable wife to marry him, and stayed committed to him even as he neglected her for Torah study:

Rabbi Akiva became betrothed to the daughter of bar Kalba Savua. When bar Kalba Savua heard about their betrothal, he took a vow prohibiting her from eating all of his property. Despite this, she went ahead and married Rabbi Akiva. In the winter they would sleep in a storehouse of straw, and Rabbi Akiva would gather strands of straw from her hair. He said to her: If I had the means I would place on your head a Jerusalem of Gold, a type of crown. Elijah the prophet came and appeared to them as a regular person and started calling and knocking on the door. He said to them: Give me a bit of straw, as my wife gave birth and I do not have anything on which to lay her. Rabbi Akiva said to his wife: See this man, who does not even have straw. We should be happy with our lot, as we at least have straw to sleep on. She said to him: Go and be a student of Torah. He went and studied Torah for twelve years before Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua. At the completion of the twelve years, he was coming home when he heard from behind his house that one wicked person was saying to his wife: Your father behaved well toward you. He was right to disinherit you. One reason is that your husband is not similar to you, i.e., he is not suitable for you. And furthermore, he has left you in widowhood in his lifetime all these years. She said to him: If he listens to me, he should be there for another twelve years. Rabbi Akiva said: Since she has given me permission through this statement, I will go back and study more. He turned back and went to the study hall, and he was there for another twelve years. Eventually he came back accompanied by 24,000 pairs of students. Everyone went out to greet him, as he was by then a renowned teacher, and she too arose to go out to greet him. That wicked person said to her: And to where are you going? As she was excessively poor, she was not dressed in a grand manner, as fit for the wife of one so esteemed. She said to him: “A righteous man regards the life of his beast” (Proverbs 12:10); he knows that I am in this state as a result of my dedication to him. She came to present herself before Rabbi Akiva, but the Sages tried to fend her off, as they were unaware of her identity. He said to them: Leave her. Both my Torah knowledge and yours are hers. When bar Kalba Savua heard that the famous man was his son-in-law, he came before halakhic authorities and requested the dissolution of his vow, and it was dissolved.

Reminds me of the song “Why You Gotta Be So Rude!” by Magic. In it, he asks a father for his daughters hand in marriage, and the dad says no. Here, Akiva and his wife prove her father wrong. But, our feelings are still mixed as we recognize that Akiva’s wife was neglected for 24 years, her prime years. In fact, Rachel becomes a saint for the Jewish people. You can visit her grave in Tiberius. Amy-Hill Levine, in  A Feminist Companion to the New Testament Apocrypha notes that Rachel is “[t]he emblem of saintly womanhood for traditional Judaism”, as her “martyrdom consisted of waiting for him in poverty and chastity for twenty-four years while he was off studying in the Yeshiva”. Bonnie Smith in  The Oxford Encyclopedia of Women in World History speculates that the themes of “self-sacrifice” and “silent suffering” in Rachel’s life bring “solace” to female pilgrims. Most trips to the Kineret/Galilee include a stop at her tomb. Still, I don’t know if there is anything that can make right how she was treated.

The second story is hilarious.

The daughter of the emperor said to Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ḥananya: You are the epitome of magnificent Torah, but it is stored in an ugly vessel, as Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ḥananya was an unattractive man. He said to her: You may learn the answer to your statement from your father’s house. In what container do you place wine? She said to him: In earthenware vessels. He said to her: Is it conceivable that everyone stores their wine in earthenware vessels, and you also store it in earthenware vessels? Is there no distinction between the emperor and ordinary people? You should place your wine in vessels of silver and gold.

She went and placed the wine in vessels of silver and gold, and it spoiled. Rabbi Yehoshua said to her: The same is also true of the Torah. It spoils if it is contained in a handsome person. She asked him: But are there not people who are both good looking and learned in Torah? He said to her: If they were ugly they would be even more learned.

Ha! The message is that we should not judge people based on their appearances (and that we should watch who we’re calling ugly). The irony of the rabbi outsmarting the princess is priceless.

My favorite part of eating Cheetos is the orange cheese powder that sticks to my fingers. Licking my fingers is absolutely delicious.

My daughter Brittany won’t eat anything messy. She hates Cheetos precisely for the same reason I like them.

This daf is for us.

The Gemara relates: Rava would eat his bread with ḥasisei, a porridge made of toasted barley grains. Rabba, son of Rav Huna, found Rav Huna eating porridge with his fingers. He said to him: Why is the Master eating with his hands? Rav Huna said to him: This is what Rav said: Porridge eaten with a finger is tasty, and all the more so if it is eaten with two fingers, and all the more so with three. It is more enjoyable to eat porridge with your hands.

Me and Rav Huna, we love to eat with our hands. But, the rabbi in the next passage takes eating with your hands a bit too far:

The Gemara relates more incidents: Rabbi Yosei and Rabbi Yehuda dined together. One of them ate porridge with his fingers, and the other one ate with a fork [hutza]. The one who was eating with a fork said to the one who was eating with his fingers: For how long will you keep feeding me your filth? Must I keep eating off of your dirty fingernails? The one who was eating with his fingers said to the one who was eating with a fork: For how long will you keep feeding me your spittle, as you eat with a fork which you then put back in the common bowl.

Ew.

It’s one thing to eat your own food with your fingers, but communal food?! Nasty. I might want to swoop my finger around my own bowl after finishing soup, but I won’t put my finger into the soup everyone else is eating.

I get grossed out by double dippers too. But at least they are double dipping a chip or something, not their fingers.

I guess even those of us who do eat with our fingers may have limits to what we think is acceptable.

Now, I will go make some porridge to eat with my hands . . . .

As we finish up this chapter of Nedarim (just the chapter, not the tractate) we get a couple of gems. The first is a laugh/insult. We had been discussing that, even if you vow someone cannot derive benefit from something you own – if it’s public property, they they still can. How do they make something public property? Apparently, they gift it to the Nasi.

Rabbi Yehuda says: The people of Galilee were quarrelsome [kanteranin] and would often take vows prohibiting benefit from one another. So their forefathers arose and wrote their portions of the public property over to the Nasi so that they would be able to use communal property.

Ha! Because people were selfish and didn’t want to share – their parents made everything they owner “communal.” I love the response to selfishness . . .

The second gem is an interesting story. First, we get a work around of the law or vows:

MISHNA: With regard to one who is prohibited by a vow from deriving benefit from another and he does not have anything to eat, the other may give the food to someone else as a gift and he is then permitted to eat it.

Now, we see someone try to use the work around:

An incident occurred involving someone in the city of Beit Ḥoron whose father had vowed not to derive benefit from him, and the son was marrying off his own son and wanted his father to be able to participate in the wedding meal. And he therefore said to another: The courtyard where the wedding will take place and the wedding meal are given before you as a gift, but only so that my father will come and eat with us at the meal.

So, he is trying to use the work around! hos dad is forbidden to derive benefit from his property – but he wants his dad at his son’s/grandson’s wedding. So, what does he do? Easy – he gifts the courtyard!

But here’s where it all goes awry:

The recipient said: If they are mine, they are all hereby consecrated to Heaven, i.e., the Temple, and are forbidden to everyone. The son said to him in anger: And did I give you my property so that you should consecrate it to Heaven? He, the recipient, said to him: You gave me your property only so that you and your father would eat and drink and thereby appease each other, and the sin of transgressing the vow would be hung on his, i.e., my, head, as I enabled the transgression. The Sages therefore said: Any gift that is not so absolute so that if the recipient were to consecrate the gift it would be consecrated, is not a gift. In other words, in order for it to be a gift, the recipient must have the ability to consecrate it.

Ha! The work around backfired! He gave the guy the courtyard as a “gift” but didn’t really mean it – it wasn’t for the recipient’s benefit – it was for the benefit of the man and his father!

The lesson: When you give someone something, it is then their to do with as they please. A true gift has no qualifiers, and you can’t take it back . . .

According to Campbridge Dictionary, using the idiom “over my dead body” means that you will do everything you can to prevent something from happening.

“Joe says he’s going to buy a motorcycle.” “Over my dead body!”

The daf has been discussing what happens when someone vows that another person will not benefit from them. Today we read

Avimi raises a dilemma: If the owner of a house said: Entering this house is konam for you, and then he died or sold it to another, what is the halakha? Do we say that a person can render an item in his possession forbidden even for a time after it will leave his possession, or not?

If you say, you will only enter this house over my dead body! What happens when you die? Do your vows hold up? Or do they disappear (so now they can literally enter the house over your dead body)?

Rava said: Come and hear a proof from a mishna (Bava Kamma 108b–109a): If one says to his son: Benefiting from me is konam for you, and dies, the son still inherits from him.

So, he inherits over his father’s dead body . . .

If, however, the father explicitly states that benefit is forbidden both in his lifetime and after his death, and dies, the son does not inherit from him. Rava suggests: Conclude from the mishna that a person can render an item in his possession forbidden even for a time after it will leave his possession. The Gemara notes: Conclude from the mishna that this is so.

Wow!

The lesson? We often use these extreme idioms and mean nothing of them. this whole tractate is worried that we take our words too lightly. If you are really opposed to something, maybe don’t say over your dead body, because it seems that, if you say that, then after you die what you fought so hard against would be allowed. But, if you don’t want something to ever happen – be specific in your language.