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

When a couple divorces, deciding who gets what can be a hard and traumatic thing. While you are supposed to “split” things, you can’t split a house. On today’s daf, two partners vow not to derive benefit from one another. The question becomes – who gets their shared space?

MISHNA: Partners who vowed not to derive benefit from one another are prohibited from entering into a courtyard that they jointly own, since each one has a portion in it and benefits from the share owned by the other, thereby leading to a violation of the vow. . . Rabbi Eliezer ben Ya’akov says: He can say to the partner: I am entering into my own portion and I am not entering into your portion.

So, which is it? That neither can use the space or they both can? Well,

Rabba said that Ze’eiri said: The dispute between Rabbi Eliezer ben Ya’akov and the Rabbis is with regard to a courtyard where there is sufficient area in the courtyard for it to be divided into four square cubits for each partner, so each can be said to have a real portion that can be forbidden to the other. But if there is not sufficient area in it to be divided, everyone agrees that it is permitted to benefit from it, since the entire courtyard is viewed as belonging to both of them and each one can say that he is entering his own portion.

So, here they are saying – if the space is so big that you can actually divide it up and avoid the other persons portion – then you do it! But if it’s too small to divide, both of you can use it. This clearly matters when you are breaking up a partnership/co-ownership. But we also all need it! Why?

Rav Yosef said to Rabba: A synagogue belongs to the entire public and is therefore considered like a courtyard in which there is not sufficient area in it to be divided, and we learned in a mishna later in the chapter (48a) that with regard to two people who vow not to derive benefit from each other, both are prohibited from deriving benefit from an entity belonging to that city such as a synagogue.

What!!! Don’t worry, Rav Huna said: The halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Eliezer ben Ya’akov. This means that we can all use the synagogue – even when our x is there.

The message? Breaking up is hard to do. It’s hard to decide who gets what and to learn to give one another space. But certain spaces, like the synagogue, should not be places that both avoid – but places where both are still welcome.

You know, there are times that the daf feels incredibly long. There are times where there is so much to comment on I don’t know what to choose as the gem. But today, something else happened . . . page 45b was only . . . 21 words long! For the first time, there is so little that I don’t know what to say.

So, the gem? Just a little background on how this might happen. See, the Talmud uses Mishnah followed by Gemara and surrounded by commentaries. Today’s daf is so short because the commentators are taking up all the space on the page! It reminds me how a few words can have so very much to say.

Here’s what it looks like in case you’re curious. Those tiny words in the center are the 21 words.

Today’s daf calls our ancient tax evaders! (Here, the tax is the Jewish tithing requirement.)

On the bottom of yesterday’s daf we learned: It is taught in a baraita: In the case of one who declares his field ownerless, for the entire three days after that declaration he is able to retract it. From this point forward, he is unable to retract the declaration.

On today’s daf, the Gemara questions: If so, then let the Sages institute that the item is considered ownerless even from the first day as well and that he cannot retract his declaration at all. Rabba said: The reason that the Sages did not render the item ownerless from the first day is due to the swindlers, who declare the field ownerless in order to render the produce of the field exempt from the requirement of tithing, and then retract that declaration and immediately reclaim the field. Therefore, the Sages instituted that ownerless status takes effect only after three days.

Ha! It’s like sending money off-shore or ferreting it into a special account before your taxes are due or you’re being audited for financial aid – so it looks like you have less than you really do.

Here, the person is rendering their field “ownerless” so they can avoid having to tithe at least 10%. Then, once the tithe collection period is over, they take it back. The rabbis are suspicious and make laws to avoid these “swindlers.”

I can’t help but think of the Trump/Clinton debate where she accused him of not paying taxes and he said that’s because he’s smart. Well, according to the Talmud, it makes you a swindler.

A little mercy by fudging the rules on today’s daf:

In the case of one for whom benefit from another is forbidden by vow and who does not have anything to eat, the one from whom benefit is forbidden goes to the shopkeeper and says to him: So-and-so vowed that benefit from me is forbidden for him and I do not know what I will do. After grasping his intent, the shopkeeper gives food to the one for whom benefit is forbidden, and then the shopkeeper comes and takes payment for the food from that one who spoke to him.

Similarly, if the house of one for whom benefit is forbidden by a vow was to be built, his fence to be erected, or his field to be harvested, and laborers were required but he had no money to hire them, the one from whom benefit is forbidden goes to the laborers and says to them: Benefit from me is forbidden by vow to so-and-so and I do not know what I will do. And the laborers perform those tasks with him, and come and take payment for their labor from that person who approached them.

If the one who vowed to render benefit from him forbidden and the one for whom benefit is forbidden were traveling together along the road and the one for whom benefit is forbidden does not have anything to eat, the one who from whom benefit is forbidden gives food to one other person as a gift, and it is permitted for that person for whom benefit is forbidden to eat the food because it no longer belongs to the one from whom benefit is forbidden. If there is no other person with them, the one who vowed places the food on the nearest rock or on the nearest fence and says: These food items are hereby rendered ownerless and are available to anyone who wants them. Then that person for whom benefit is forbidden takes and eats the food.

I love this just because it tries so hard to honor the law and to understand that sometimes the right thing to do is to circumvent the law. In Judaism, the balance between justice and mercy is holy. The daf gives us a very human way of grappling with trying to find the balance.

A fun little legal conundrum is todays gem. The Mishnah states that when one makes a vow before the Shemitah year declaring that his friend should not benfit from his possessions, his friend is prohibited from eating his fruits during Shemitah year. Now, this is only interesting if you remember that during the shemitah year – the land is ownerless! So, what he question is – how can he forbid his friend from benefiting from land that belongs to no one!! It’s not his to forbid!

The Gemara explains that this law applies only when he said “these possessions are prohibited to you.” If he said “my possessions are prohibited to you,” his friend can eat the fruit during Shemitah since the fruit no longer belongs to the original owner.

Another daf, another day where we are reminded to be super picky with our words.

Today’s gem reminds me of another great Jewish story. First the gem. The Gemara is asking, if you have to go into exile – what do you need to bring with you?

Rabbi Ami said that Rav said: What is the meaning of that which is written: “And you, son of man, make for yourself implements of exile” (Ezekiel 12:3)? That is referring to a lamp, and a bowl, and a rug, as an exile needs those items and they are portable. . . Rabbi Ami said that Rav said: “In want of all things” means without a lamp and without a table to eat upon. Rav Ḥisda said: Without a wife. Rav Sheshet said: Without an attendant to aid him. Rav Naḥman said: Without intelligence. One of the Sages teaches in a baraita: Without salt and without fat [revav] in which to dip his bread.

So, each is suggesting what you need to take with you. Rav Naḥman says you only need intelligence, Abaye picks up on this and adds:

Abaye said that we have a tradition: A poor person is only one lacking in intelligence, in agreement with the opinion of Rav Naḥman. In the West, Eretz Yisrael, they say: One who has this attribute, intelligence, in him has everything in him. One who does not have this attribute in him, what is in him? If he acquired this, what else is lacking? If he has not acquired this, what has he acquired?

Now the story (very abbreviated form):

Three men were traveling on a boat to a far away land. One was a banker and very rich, he lined his coat with diamonds and gold so that he would be able to have the money to start a new life when he arrived. The second was a builder and had all his tools in a heavy toolbelt around his waist so he could make a career when he arrived. They both laughed at the third man, who traveled only with a book he was studying. With no money, and no tools, they wondered how he would survive.

Then the boat capsized.

The rich man found himself unable to swim to the surface in his money lined coat, and so he had to take it off. He lost everything to the bottom of the sea, but managed to swim for shore. The builder found himself being pulled to the bottom of the sea by his heavy belt. He, too, had to choose between his things of his life. He swam to the shore with nothing and no way to make a living. The third man had nothing to lose. He swam for the shore.

When the three arrived on dry land, the people of the town greeted them. The people asked the men what they could offer. The rich man had nothing to offer, the builder too had no way to earn his keep. But the third man began to teach. He was a great scholar and soon everyone had gathered around. He was offered a job, a place to stay, and respect.

One who has this attribute, intelligence, in him has everything in him. One who does not have this attribute in him, what is in him? If he acquired this, what else is lacking? If he has not acquired this, what has he acquired?

Bikkur cholim, visiting the sick, is a very important mitzvah. We learned on yesterday’s daf, that it cures 1/60th of the ailment. Today, Rabbi Akiva went out and taught: With regard to anyone who does not visit the ill, it is as though he is spilling blood. The mitzvah is so high that Rav said: Anyone who visits the ill is spared from the judgment of Gehenna (Hell).

But we also learn that there are limitations to visiting the sick. Later, Jewish law codifies boundaries to ensure that we not become a burden to the ill person. Today’s daf shows us a few of those:

1: Don’t visit right when the person is waking or right before sleeping (unless asked). Rav Sheisha, son of Rav Idi, said: Let one not visit a sick person, neither during the first three hours of the day, nor in the last three hours of the day, so that he will not be diverted from praying for mercy. Why would we be diverted from praying for the person? During the first three hours the sick person is relieved. In the last three hours of the day his weakness is exacerbated. SO true! Often, when you’re sick, right when you wake up you feel better- and look better too! If someone comes then, they may think you are healthier than you really are and think you don’t need the prayers. Also, at the end of the day, you’re tired and you may appear worse that you really are – and the rabbi is scared the visitor will loose hope that the person will recover at all! I also think that, if you’re not family, that these are times of the day when people are maybe in the pajamas or getting ready for bed or for the day – not when we want most people to see us.

2: Don’t sit on the sick persons bed. One who enters to visit a sick person may neither sit on the bed nor sit on a bench or on a chair that is higher than the bed upon which the sick person is lying. Why? because the Divine Presence is resting above the bed of the sick person. While I am not so sure this speaks to everyone’s understanding of God, I do think that there is something profound in not putting yourself higher than the sick person. When you are visiting, make the visit about the sick person, not about you. Now, if they ask you to tell them about what’s going on in the world or that date you went on, then go for it – but it should be lead by what the sick person needs. maybe they need to listen and be distracted. But, maybe they want to share memories, fears, unburden. The visit is about them and what they need. We can remind ourselves of that by imagining the Divine is with them, hovering over them, wanting to listen to them as well.

Today’s gem is about the mitzvah of visiting the ill:

It is taught in a baraita: The mitzva of visiting the ill has no fixed measure. The Gemara asks: What is the meaning of: Has no fixed measure? Rav Yosef thought to say: There is no fixed measure for the granting of its reward. Abaye said to him: And do all other mitzvot have a fixed measure for the granting of their reward? But didn’t we learn in a mishna (Avot 2:1): Be as meticulous in the observance of a minor mitzva as a major one, as you do not know the granting of reward for mitzvot.

It can’t be that not knowing what the reward is visiting the ill is unique – we don’t know the reward for any mitzvah! So, what does it mean that it’s reward “has no measure”?

Idea #1: Rather, Abaye said: There is no fixed measure for the disparity between the ill person and his visitor, as even a prominent person pays a visit to a lowly person and should not say that doing so is beneath a person of his standing.

Idea #2: Rava said: There is no fixed measure for the number of times that one should visit the ill, as even one hundred times a day is appropriate.

Love this. People often need more than one visit! But it gets even better.

Rav Aḥa bar Ḥanina said: Anyone who visits an ill person takes from him one-sixtieth of his suffering.

I love to teach this text, and I have had some crafty students ask exactly what the Gemara does next:

The Sages said to him: If so, let sixty people enter to visit him, and stand him up, and restore him to health. Rav Aḥa bar Ḥanina said to them: It is like the tenths of the school of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, each visitor takes from the ill person one-sixtieth of the suffering that remains, and consequently a degree of suffering will always remain with the ill person.

It’s an exponential curve! It never gets to zero – but the real lesson is how valuable it is to a person to be visited when they are sick.

I hated reading for school. First, I am a slow reader. Second, I would read and then in the class conversation I didn’t know what was happening. (Pretty shocking that I did well at all.) However, I loved to read on my own. I love books now, and I love books then – but as soon as it was assigned to me – I didn’t want to read it, couldn’t focus on it.

Maybe Moses and I had this in common:

And Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Initially, Moses would study Torah and forget it, until it was given to him as a gift, as it is stated: “And He gave it to Moses when he concluded speaking with him” (Exodus 31:18). Once the Torah was given him as a gift, it became his and he was able to remember it.

Perhaps that is it. Reading is a gift – it introduces you to people you might never meet, places you might never go, lets you delve into topics and fantasies and emotions and explore yourself and the world and the imagination . . . it’s a gift.

When it was something to study, it didn’t stick, but when I received it as a gift, it did. So, too, it is with so many things I try to learn now. Now every opportunity to learn is a gift – even a blessing from God.

Lots of goodies on todays page. The first is the questioning of why a teacher wouldn’t be paid for teaching Bible. Seems that teachers have a long history of not being paid a salary that reflects what they do. The text gets around it by saying that you are paying the person, either, Rav said: As Bible is typically taught to children, one who teaches Bible takes payment for watching the children. And Rabbi Yoḥanan said: He takes payment for teaching punctuation of the text with cantillation notes.

So – teachers should be paid. They do so much more than just teach the material, they teach context, how to apply the material, and they’re also babysitters to an extent (I know they wish they were less so) and help families raise their children.

The second gem is that the text teaches that a child should not learn a new verse of Bible on Shabbat. Why? this is the reason that children may not read a passage in the Bible for the first time on Shabbat, so that the fathers of the children will be at leisure to fulfill the mitzva of Shabbat. Ha! “The mitzvah,” when there are no qualifiers, refers to sex. So, let mom and dad have sex and leave them alone.

The last gem is just the touch on a concept known as “katav o’kri” written verses read. There are times when there is something written in the text of the Tanakh that we emend when we are reading it. We never change the text itself, but we change the words or pronunciation. We get a whole list of them on today’s daf. I enjoy this as it shows how much we venerate and will not change the holy text – while at the same time very much admit that there are inaccuracies.

It’s like love – accepting, while seeing, the imperfections.