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

Oh good Lord. Today’s daf has a debate between the rabbis about what qualifies as a “blemish” on a woman for which a man can get out of the betrothal. Scars, voice, and a debate over what qualify as ideal breasts follow.

Rav Ḥisda said: I heard this matter from a great man, and who was this great man? Rabbi Sheila was the great man. He said: If a dog bit a woman, and the place of the wound developed into a scar, this is a blemish. Rav Ḥisda further said: A deep voice in a woman, this is a blemish, as it is stated: “For your voice is sweet and your appearance pleasant” (Song of Songs 2:14). Rabbi Natan Bira’a taught: A handbreadth between a woman’s breasts. The amora’im have a dispute concerning the meaning of Rabbi Natan Bira’a’s statement: Rav Aḥa, son of Rava, thought to say before Rav Ashi that this means a handbreadth between a woman’s breasts is perfection and considered beautiful. Rav Ashi said to him: This baraita is taught with regard to blemishes, and it means that if her breasts are separated by a gap this wide, it is a blemish. The Gemara asks: And how much of a gap is considered normal? Abaye said: The width of three fingers.

Wait? I though guys dig scars? No? And don’t phone sex operators have low voices? Isn’t that sexy? And who is measuring between their breasts? And in what position (leaning over, laying back, in a bra?)? Crazy men.

More boob stories on the daf.

It is taught in a baraita: Rabbi Natan says: Any woman whose breasts are larger than those of other women, this is a blemish.

I know.

The Gemara poses a question: And how much larger must they be to be considered a blemish? Rabbi Meyasha, son of the son of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, said in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi: If they are a handbreadth larger than the norm. The Gemara inquires: And is there a case like this? Is it possible for a woman to have such large breasts? The Gemara answers: Yes, as Rabba bar bar Ḥanna said: I once saw a certain Arab woman who flung her breasts behind her and nursed her child.

Oh the daf. So often so brilliant, and today, so much like boys talking in the locker room.

One of the many new phrases being used these days is “glow up” (I sound so old, those young whippersnappers and their new fangled language). Someone has had a glow up if they have become better looking as they’ve grown up. Or, they’ve had a glow up thanks to a make over, hitting the gym, or plastic surgery.

Thanks to Spanx, fake eyelashes, fake eve color, hair die, surgery, heals, butt bras (yep, that’s a thing) and more. We can all conform to a take on what society deems as “beautiful.” However, when we see people o-natural, we may wonder if it’s even the same person.

I know a couple where the woman was a 10 and the guy maybe a 6. When he found out she had plastic surgery, all the sudden he didn’t want to marry her anymore. He thought it was false advertising. Well, guy, she was out of your league anyway. But, today’s daf made me think of you.

The Sages taught: If a man betroths a woman on condition that there are no vows incumbent upon her to fulfill, but there are vows incumbent upon her, and she goes to a halakhic authority and he dissolves her vows, she is betrothed. However, if he betroths her on condition that she has no blemishes, but she does have blemishes, and she goes to a doctor and he heals her blemishes, she is not betrothed. The Gemara inquires: What is the difference between a halakhic authority and a doctor? The Gemara explains: When a halakhic authority dissolves a vow, he uproots the vow retroactively. It is as if she had never vowed at all, and therefore she was in fact not bound by vows at the time of their betrothal. But a doctor only heals from here onward. Since she had blemishes at the time of betrothal, she is in breach of his condition.

I can’t help but think of that guy. Maybe he was worried about his kids. He should be worried that his kids will be completely shallow, like their dad.

I don’t know what exactly the rabbis in the Gemara are referring to. Perhaps a hereditary condition. But, it smacked of a shallowness still felt today.

My husband and I were a couple for 5 years before we got engaged (I know! long time) and were engaged for a year before we married. We had been students together, lived in the same city, lived together, done long distance, we even lived with my parents for a summer – all this to say we really knew what we were getting into when we committed to one another.

Today’s daf grapples with the fact that often the couples in the ancient world did not know one another well, or maybe at all, when they became betrothed. Men and women would not be alone together before engagement, and so, there may be things that make them incompatible that they only discover later on. The daf says, what if the woman has made a vow that her future husband cannot abide? What if he just doesn’t want a woman who makes vows at all (besides wedding vows of course)? And what if he discovers this thing while they are engaged but haven’t had intercourse? What if they had sex already? What if she is a full fledged adult? What if she’s a minor? How do you proceed when you committed to a person only to find our that they are not the person you thought (or assumed) they were? And did these “requirements” need to be specified before hand or not?

We learned in the mishna: If he married her without specification, and it was discovered that vows were incumbent upon her, she may be divorced without receiving payment of her marriage contract. The Gemara infers: She does not require or receive payment of her marriage contract, but she does require a bill of divorce. . . . No, the case there is referring to where he betrothed her without specification and then married her without specification. The Gemara asks: But according to this explanation, if he betrothed her conditionally and then married her without specification, is it indeed the case that she does not require a bill of divorce? The mishna says that she does not require or receive payment of her marriage contract, but one can infer that she does require a bill of divorce. And what is different about a marriage contract that she does not require payment? Because he says: I do not want a vowing wife, and therefore the marriage is considered a mistaken transaction. If so, she should also not require a bill of divorce. Since he is clearly particular about this, shouldn’t the betrothal also be considered a mistaken transaction? Rabba said: She requires a bill of divorce from the words of the Sages, i.e., by rabbinic law.

There is much more on the daf (there always is), but you get the idea.

The daf is grappling with something that is still pertinent to our lives – how well do we really know other people? Our lovers/partners, coworkers, friends, doctors, rabbis? We are often disappointed when our expectations are not met – but very often, those expectations are implicit and therefore, unknown to the offending party. Making our expectations explicit can be very helpful in avoiding messy situations like we have on the daf, and helpful in avoiding hurting feelings.

This week I did a shiva for one family, I am doing a funeral today for another, and a third is figuring out if we will bury their loved one on Sunday or Monday. So, today’s daf, once again, seems to be speaking right to me (funny how that happens). We saw yesterday that a husband who is controlling may be forced to divorce his wife. Today’s daf discusses a man who tries to prevent his wife from visiting mourners and attending funerals. Here, we learn that, once again, he cannot prevent her from performing these mitzvot, and the reasons why are lessons for us all:

He taught: In the future she too will die, and no person will eulogize her or take care of her, just as she did not do so for others. And some say: No person will value her or pay attention to her, since a person who does not visit the sick or console mourners cuts himself off from others.

Visiting those who are in pain, whether because they are sick of because they are in mourning, is what it means to be a friend and a neighbor. We are all so uncomfortable reaching out when we know others are in pain. We often wait and think that, if the other person needs us, they will ask. Well, the Gemara is telling us – no, you show up. If you don’t show up, you’re not a friend and others will not be there for you.

Similarly, it is taught in a baraita: Rabbi Meir used to say: What is the meaning of that which is written: “It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, since that is the end of all men, and the living will take it to heart” (Ecclesiastes 7:2)? What does “and the living will take it to heart” mean? It means that they will take matters relating to death to heart, realizing that they too will eventually die. He who eulogizes others, people will eulogize him; he who buries someone, people will bury him; he who lifts others to bring them to burial, people will similarly lift him to bring him to burial; he who escorts others out for burial, people will similarly escort him; he who carries others, others will carry him. Therefore, one who does not come to a house of mourning to comfort the bereaved will himself not be treated with proper dignity when he dies.

It’s more important to be there for people when they’re down than when they’re celebrating. And it’s important because it makes US confront our own mortality and think about how we need to act now to have the burial we want.

The message? He cannot stop he from being a mensch. He cannot stop her from being there for others when they are in pain. He cannot do things that cut her off from her relationships with others.

And we shouldn’t cut ourselves off either.

Shabbat Shalom.

(P.S. An extra paragraph with a similar message of needing to be a good neighbor:

Rav Kahana said: One who vows and obligates his wife not to borrow or not to lend utensils that people generally lend, such as a sifter, or a sieve, or a mill, or an oven, must divorce her and give her the payment of her marriage contract, since by making such rules he causes her to develop a bad reputation among her neighbors, who will suspect her of stinginess or haughtiness.)

Vegetarians are annoying. I say that as someone who is basically a vegetarian (I eat fish once a month, but otherwise) and someone who lived with a vegetarian when they weren’t one. It’s hard when everyone wants fried chicken and you’re there as the wet blanket needing an entirely different main course. It’s annoying when you go out to eat as you need to make sure the menus have options.

Our daf is discussing when a man can nullify his wife’s vows. It seems that he can annul only those vows that directly affect him or “vows of affliction.” You will see below that Rabbi Yosie says that a woman who vows not to eat meat is making a vow of affliction – hence my connection as an annoying vegetarian. But then the Gemara takes a turn in a very interesting, and intimate, direction . . .

These are the cases of a wife’s vow that the husband may nullify: Cases of vows that involve affliction, such as when the woman says: If I bathe, I forbid myself to benefit from it; or if she says: If I do not bathe, i.e., she vows not to bathe at all; or she vows: If I adorn myself; or vows: If I do not adorn myself, all of which cause her to suffer. Rabbi Yosei said: These are not vows of affliction, which the husband may nullify, but rather, these, i.e., the following, are vows of affliction: Such as when she vows that I will not eat meat, or that I will not drink wine, or even that I will not adorn myself with colored garments, as not wearing colored garments can cause shame to her as well as to her husband. He is claiming that vows that affect her household or her husband are able to be annulled, but vows that affect her alone are not considered vows of affliction. The Gemara answers: Here we are dealing with a case where she vowed not to adorn herself with regard to matters that are between him and her, meaning that she vowed not to use a substance that removes her pubic hair. This is considered a matter between him and her, since the hair could interfere with sexual intercourse.

Wait. What?!

I feel like I am suddenly watching the Wolf of Wallstreet where the Leonardo DiCaprio character says that the women he is having affairs with are “bald from the eyebrows down.” Who knew? Society torturing women for their body hair (really, let’s be honest, all hair as I watch my friends put poison on their eyelids to make their eyelashes grow, get tattoos to make their eyebrows appear thicker, put chemicals to die and straighten their head hair . . . ) has apparently been around forever. Ugh.

So, to go back to the Talmud: a man can annul his wife’s vow not to wax her nether regions.

The Gemara asks: This works out well according to the one who said the husband can nullify his wife’s vow if it relates to matters that are between him and her, i.e., that disrupt normal, intimate relations between them.

Does it really work out well? For who? Tell that to her tender skin.

Okay, okay. It works out well because the reasoning is sound. A person cannot vow something that would go against the implied commitment of the marriage vows. that’s why we learned that a man cannot vow not to sustain his wife. It goes both ways. The wife still has to be non-repulsive to her husband so she needs to bathe, dress nicely, and “trim.” (Apparently, a wife saying she won’t remove her pubic hair is equivalent to a man not bringing home the kosher bacon. . .)

But according to the one who said the husband cannot nullify such vows, what can be said? The amora’im had a dispute concerning this question, as it is stated: With regard to vows related to matters that are between him and her, such as the example above, Rav Huna said that the husband can nullify his wife’s vow, while Rav Adda bar Ahava said the husband cannot nullify his wife’s vow, since it does not interfere with sexual intercourse between them. Rav Adda bar Ahava explains his opinion with an analogy: Since we have not found a fox that died in the dirt of a hole where it lives, so too here, although she grows her pubic hair, he will not be harmed by it, since he is familiar with her body.

Rav Adda bar Ahava, I salute you and your presumable hairy wife. Thank you.

Rather, with what are we dealing here? With a case where through her vow she made sexual intercourse contingent upon her adornment, as she said: The pleasure of intercourse with you is forbidden to me if I adorn myself, as Rav Kahana said that such language qualifies as matters between him and her, and a husband can nullify such a vow.

Wow again! So is this woman saying, when I look this good keep your hands off of me?

What an entertaining daf that leads us to thinking about how women might manipulate their husbands through their appearance. The rabbis seem to by saying that it’s not fair to allow yourself to become repulsive as a way to avoid sex, and neither is it okay to make yourself hot and refuse sex (through a vow to God nonetheless).

The gem? Your decisions about “you” don’t only affect you. They affect all those who live with you, who attach themselves to you, and those who you work around.

So don’t make vows not to shower.

Promises hold a lot of weight. Vows, even more. The next tractate of the Talmud is all about vows, but Ketubot is the little Talmud and has everything in it! Today, the daf grapples with a man who makes a vow that his wife not benefit from him in some way – some way that violates what is the standard expectation of what a man gives his wife.

One who vows and obligates his wife, requiring her not to taste a particular type of produce, must divorce her and give her the payment of her marriage contract.

Love!! Won’t let her try that mango? Divorce.

Rabbi Yehuda says: If he is an Israelite, then if the vow will remain in effect for one day he may maintain her as his wife, but if it will be two days he must divorce her and give her the payment of her marriage contract. And if he is a priest, then if the vow will be in effect for two days he may maintain her; for three days he must divorce her and give her the payment of her marriage contract.

Remember that priests are not allowed to remarry, so if he divorces her – there is no reconciliation possible.

One who vows and obligates his wife, requiring her not to adorn herself with a particular type of perfume, must divorce her and give her the payment of her marriage contract.

Ha! Don’t tell her not to smell good.

Rabbi Yosei says that one must distinguish between different types of women: For poor women, this applies only when he did not establish a set amount of time for the vow, and for wealthy women, who are accustomed to adorning themselves more elaborately, if she is prohibited from doing so for thirty days, he must divorce her and give her the payment of her marriage contract.

The Gemara goes into this in more detail, but it’s my gem because there is this acknowledgement of the danger of a controlling spouse. Both of these things would be early signs of potential abuse – forbidding a woman she can’t eat something of wear something. . . especially when what she is requesting is not so extravagant. Our rabbis seemed to know what psychologists teach us: if he is forbidding innocuous behavior then he should not be in your life.

Texts can be confusing as words on a screen don’t capture emotion. Emails often get people into trouble as well as a persons intentions with their words are often lost. But it’s not just our modern form of communication that got people into trouble. The daf highlights a letter exchange where the intentions of the sender are not interpreted well by the recipient.

The Gemara recounts an interaction between Rav Anan and Rav Huna. Rav Anan sent the following letter to Rav Huna: Huna, our friend, we wish you peace. When this woman bearing this letter comes before you, provide her one-tenth of her father’s estate.

Sounds like a very congenial letter from one colleague to another. A request. Is that how it is received?

Rav Sheshet was sitting before him, and Rav Huna said to him: Go and say to Rav Anan my reply. Knowing that Rav Sheshet may be hesitant to relay the sharp language of the reply, Rav Huna cautioned him: And whoever does not say to him my exact words is in a state of excommunication: Anan, Anan, should the one-tenth be provided from real estate or from movable property? And, incidentally, tell me who sits at the head in the house of a marzeiḥa?

Ouch! Rav Huna sends Rav Sheshet to give an answer. But, in that answer, Rav Huna addressed Rav Anan in a condescending manner, calling him “Anan, Anan.” Rav Sheshet is embarrassed to speak this way to Rav Anan, but has no choice as Rav Huna threatens him with excommunication if he doesn’t do it. And look at his replies – the first is a rhetorical question which implies – what kind of idiot would interpret the law the way you did?! And the second question seems to have nothing to do with anything! Or does it? We will see why this second question is there.

Rav Sheshet went before Rav Anan and reverentially said to him, addressing him in the third person: My Master is a teacher, but Rav Huna is the teacher of the teacher. Moreover, he readily excommunicates whoever does not say to him, i.e., to you, my teacher, his precise message, and if it were not that he would excommunicate me, I would not say his words: Anan, Anan, should the one-tenth be provided from real estate or from movable property? And, incidentally, tell me who sits at the head in the house of a marzeiḥa?

Sheshet does what he is told. Now we see Rav Anan’s reaction.

Rav Anan went before Mar Ukva to consult with him about Rav Huna’s reply. He said to him: Let the Master see how Rav Huna sent me an offensive message, addressing me as Anan, Anan. Moreover, with regard to this word marzeiḥa in the letter that he sent me, I do not know what it is. Mar Ukva said to him: Say to me, my friend [izi], how the incident itself happened.

I love this. He wants to know ALL the facts, not just how it appeared from Rav Anan’s point of view.

He said to him: Such and such was the incident, and Rav Anan related the details to Mar Ukva. He said to him: A man who does not know what a marzeiḥa is sends a letter to Rav Huna addressing him as Huna, our friend?

Ooooooh snap! So, what we initially thought was to equals in a letter exchange is not what it was at all. Rav Huna is a greater scholar than Rav Anan. Now, we reread that first request and we see, 1) his address as friend is too familiar, they’re not friends and 2) that he is telling a greater scholar than himself how to rule in a case of law (in which the law does not go with what he is suggesting) is insulting and wrong.

And Rav Huna’s reply? Yes, totally insulting AND the second question which seems unrelated was there to prove that Rav Huna was the greater authority and Rav Anan was out of place with his initial request.

Do I think Rav Anan intended to insult Rav Huna? No way, but that’s what happened. The lesson? Be careful in your written communications. Or better yet, call or talk to the person face to face.

Also? Poor Rav Sheshet – keep others out of your petty grievances.

Miami has a lot of panhandlers. To give or not to give? One guy, (who I haven’t seen for a while) who used to stand on the corner of US1 and 104th used to ask for money and then tell the givers about his upcoming album and to check him out on instagram. If you went to his instagram page – there he was smoking a blunt with smoke covering his face. Makes a giver feel a bit uncomfortable . . .

Today’s daf grapples with giving when we suspect our money going to the wrong place.

Rabbi Ḥanina knew a certain pauper and was accustomed to send to him four dinars on every Shabbat eve. One day he sent it in the hand of his wife. She came back home and said to him: The man does not need charity. Rabbi Ḥanina asked her: What did you see that prompted you to say this? She said to him: I heard them saying to him inside the house: With what do you normally dine: Silver, i.e., white, tablecloths [telei] or gold, i.e., colored, tablecloths? Clearly, then, they are not entitled to charity.

So, he was giving every week to someone who lived an opulent lifestyle. So, will he be upset?

Rabbi Ḥanina said: This is what Rabbi Elazar said: Come and let us appreciate the swindlers who ask for charity that they do not need, because were it not for them, who command our attention and receive our charity, we would be sinning every day in failing to properly support the truly poor, as it is stated: “Beware that there be not a base thought in your heart, saying: The seventh year, the year of release, is at hand; and your eye be evil against your needy brother, and you will not give him; and he cry to the Lord against you, and it be sin in you” (Deuteronomy 15:9). Because the swindlers take our money in the name of charity, we have an excuse of sorts for failing to fully meet the needs of the truly poor.

Wow! Be grateful! I have heard that we should be grateful to the poor for allowing us to do mitzvot, but this is saying to even be grateful to the swindlers! If not for them we would be held guilty for failing to support the truly poor. Which does NOT mean we are off the hook.

And Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Rav of Difti taught: Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korḥa says: With regard to anyone who averts his eyes from the obligation to give charity, it is as if he engages in idol worship. It is written here concerning charity: “Beware that there be not a base [beliya’al] thought in your heart…and you will not give him” (Deuteronomy 15:9), and it is written there concerning idolatry: “Certain base [beliya’al] fellows have gone out” (Deuteronomy 13:14). Just as there, in the latter verse, the word “base [beliya’al]” is referring to idol worship, so too here, this expression indicates a sin on the scale of idol worship.

Not giving to the poor is a violation of the commandments that is equivalent to the most heinous of violations – idol worship.

So, let’s give.

Yesterday, the daf reminded us that money comes and goes. We, or our ancestors or descendants, will all need to receive eventually. I think of my grandparents who only survived pogroms and the Holocaust, only made it to the States, because of the charity of others. We were told that the only protection against losing money is using it to do tzedakah. Tzedakah protects us from going broke. Today, we learn that it may also physically protect us (this is why we send people with money for charity when they are traveling to Israel) with a wonderfully wild story:

Mar Ukva had a pauper in his neighborhood, and Mar Ukva was accustomed every day to toss four dinars for him into the slot adjacent to the hinge of the door. One day the poor person said: I will go and see who is doing this service for me. That day Mar Ukva was delayed in the study hall, and his wife came with him to distribute the charity.

When the people in the poor man’s house saw that someone was turning the door, the pauper went out after them to see who it was. Mar Ukva and his wife ran away from before him so that he would not determine their identity, and they entered a certain furnace whose fire was already raked over and tempered but was still burning. Mar Ukva’s feet were being singed, and his wife said to him: Raise your feet and set them on my feet, which are not burned. She asks him to stand on her feet! Understanding that only his wife was spared from burns, because she was more worthy, Mar Ukva became distraught. By way of explanation, she said to him: I am normally found inside the house, and when I give charity, my assistance is ready and immediate, insofar as I distribute actual food items. Since you distribute money, which is not as readily helpful, my aid is greater than yours.

Wow! There is something here. While normally money is the most valuable thing to a poor person, there is something different in what she is saying. What does she do? She invites people into her home and she feeds them. They need to do no work. She is giving them food, dignity, and hospitality.

The Gemara asks: And what is all this? Why did they go to such extreme lengths to avoid being discovered? The Gemara answers: It is as Mar Zutra bar Toviya said that Rav said, and some say that Rav Huna bar Bizna said that Rabbi Shimon Ḥasida said, and some say that Rabbi Yoḥanan said in the name of Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai: It is preferable for a person to deliver himself into a fiery furnace so that he not whiten the face of, i.e., embarrass, his friend in public.

They ran into the furnace rather than embarrass their friends.

There are many other tzedakah lessons on today’s daf. It teaches us that, while alive we only give 20% of our income, when we are going to die, or after our death, there is no upper limit on our gifts. We are taught not to judge the poor on what they spend their charity money on. Bot to embarrass others. To give those who are too proud to take charity a “loan” if they won’t take a gift. To make dowries and throw weddings and to give people according to what they are accustomed to having.

On that note, I will leave you with the great Hillel:

They said about Hillel the Elder that he obtained for a poor person of noble descent a horse upon which to ride and a servant to run in front of him. One time he did not find a servant to run in front of him, and Hillel himself ran in front of him for three mil, to fulfill the dictate “which is deficient for him.”

Many of us are aware of lottery winners, rock stars, and other artists and “lucky” individuals who make a ton of money quickly and then burn through it all. But that’s new money. What about old money? Did you know that, according to the Williams Group wealth consultancy 70% of wealthy families lose their wealth by the second generation, and a stunning 90% by the third?

Our daf tells the story of a fabulously wealthy rabbi’s daughter, and her fortune’s misfortune.

Rav Yehuda said that Rav said: There was an incident involving the daughter of Nakdimon ben Guryon. When the Sages designated for her four hundred gold coins for her account of perfumes, from her late husband’s estate, for use on that same day, she blessed them and said to them: This is how you should also pledge for your own daughters, and they answered after her: Amen.

So, we see this daughter of a fabulously wealthy rabbi is now a widow whose perfume allowance is extravagant!

The Gemara relates what later became of her: The Sages taught: There was an incident involving Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai. When he was riding on a donkey and leaving Jerusalem, and his students were walking after him to learn from him, he saw a certain young woman who was gathering barley from among the dung of the animals of Arabs. She was so poor that she subsisted on the undigested barley within the dung. When she saw him, she wrapped herself in her hair, as she had nothing else with which to cover herself, and stood before him.

Just pause to think about how humiliating this is. A woman with uncovered hair covered in dung, starving.

She said to him: My teacher, sustain me. He did not recognize her, so he said to her: My daughter, who are you? She said to him: I am the daughter of Nakdimon ben Guryon.

The plot thickens! This is not just an ordinary woman – it’s a once ludicrously wealthy woman!

He said to her: My daughter, the money of your father’s household, where did it go? How did you become so poor? She said to him: My teacher, is it not that they say such a proverb in Jerusalem: Salt for money is lacking [ḥaser]? There is nothing with which to preserve it and prevent it from being lost.

Love this expression. Salt preserves meat and makes it last, but money doesn’t last forever. But then we get an even better metaphor for salt:

And some say the proverb asserts that kindness [ḥesed] is salt for money, i.e., using money for acts of kindness preserves it. He continued to ask her: And the money of your father-in-law’s house, which was used properly, for benevolent acts, where is it? She said to him: This one came and destroyed that one; all the money was combined from her father’s house and her father-in-law’s, and it was all lost together.

So, this hints at something we shall soon see – that really the only way to make sure we hold onto wealth is to give it away to those in need. Tzedakah preserves wealth.

She said to him: My teacher, do you remember when you signed on my marriage contract? He said to his students: I remember that when I signed on the marriage contract of this woman, and I read in it, it listed a thousand thousands, i.e., one million gold dinars as a dowry from her father’s house, aside from that which was promised her from her father-in-law. Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai cried and said: How fortunate are you, Israel, for when Israel performs the will of the Omnipresent, no nation or tongue can rule over them; and when Israel does not perform the will of the Omnipresent, He delivers them into the hand of a lowly nation. Not only are they delivered into the hand of a lowly nation, but even into the hand of the animals of a lowly nation, as in the pitiful instance of Nakdimon’s daughter digging through donkey dung.

The recorded incident implies that Nakdimon lost all of his wealth after having failed to use it for acts of kindness. Is that true? Let’s read just a bit farther.

The Gemara asks: And did not Nakdimon ben Guryon perform charity? Isn’t it taught in a baraita: They said about Nakdimon ben Guryon that when he would leave his home to go to the study hall, there were fine woolen garments his attendants would spread underneath him to walk on, and with his blessing, the poor would come and fold them up from behind him for themselves? Clearly he gave abundant charity.

Okay, let’s pause. This is how he gives? Talk about rolling out the red carpet! This guy walks on fine woolen blankets and his form of “giving” is leaving them on the ground for the poor to pick up? Ugh. Talk about a lack of dignity. His giving is really just a consequence of his bravado/megalomania.

The Gemara offers two possible explanations: If you wish, say that he acted that way for his own honor, to demonstrate that he considered the exorbitant expense trivial. And if you wish, say that as he should have done, he did not do. As people say, according to the camel is the burden.

I love this as well! The stronger the camel, the heavier the load it must bear. Even if he gave altruistically, Nakdimon ben Guryon did not give as much as he was expected to give. This guy was (or could have been) the Bill Gates of his time. He has ample wealth and he could have given more than he did.

Three gems: give for the glory of others, not yourself; and if you have more give more; don’t save it all for your family – the only way to ensure money lasts is by being generous.