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

Today’s gem is one hot tamale . . .

Rav concludes. However, for Shmuel’s source there is no refutation. Rava said, and some say it was Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak who said: This explains the folk saying that people say: One spicy pepper is better than a basketful of squash, as the single pepper has more flavor than all the squash combined.

I love this!!! It’s in reference to Shmuel’s argument being superior to all the others – but I love it in terms of thinking about so many things – really good food (a little really good food is better than a lot of mediocre food), great music (one transcendent song is better than a whole concert of blah), and most importantly, people you love.

I think my husband is one spicy pepper and I wouldn’t trade him for a whole basket of squash. . .

We have all heard (and seen on occasion) that money corrupts. Today’s daf posits that the opposite can be true – that poverty can make us good people. In fact, it imagines that God looked through every scenario, trying to give the Jewish people every positive character trait, and found that we lose character when we become wealthy. How do we know this? Well, Elijah the prophet taught this:

The Gemara relates that Elijah the Prophet said to bar Hei Hei, and some say that he said this to Rabbi Elazar: What is the meaning of that which is written: “Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tried you in the furnace of affliction [oni]” (Isaiah 48:10)? This teaches that the Holy One, Blessed be He, sought after all good character traits to impart them to the Jewish people, and He found only poverty [aniyut] capable of preventing them from sin. Shmuel said, and some say it was Rav Yosef: This explains the folk saying that people say: Poverty is good for the Jewish people like a red bridle [barza] for a white horse. Just as a red bridle accentuates the white color of the horse, so the challenge of poverty draws out the purity of the Jewish people.

Interesting to read this. And I wonder about the point being made.

Growing up in Ft. Wayne Indiana, there were not million and billionaires. In Miami we have both (and more). I made assumptions about the wealthy as a kid. Based largely on these same ideas – that money corrupts. But what I have learned now being exposed to people with extreme wealth, is that people are people – imperfect, lovely or terrible – no matter how much money they have. I have seen many incredibly wealthy people who are kind, generous, humble, and good through and through. I have also seen how poverty can harden people.

So, what’s going on in the above verse?

Well, it can be read as a warning not to allow money to corrupt . . . but I think it’s more likely the rabbis (through Elijah) attempting to give a reason why so many Jews through so many periods of time in our history, have had to live in poverty. Poverty is like a furnace refining our character. Let’s come out, whether poor or rich, with character, acting in goodness and living up to our best selves.

A hard gem for a vegetarian . . .

Rav Ashi said: This halakha is derived from the phrase “And you shall rejoice.” This excludes those bird-offerings and meal-offerings that do not have an element of rejoicing, as the joy of eating is provided only by animal meat.

Well, for someone who no longer eats meat, and feels closer to God as a result, I want to take offense and list all the amazingly satisfying meat free dishes I enjoy – but I won’t.

What I will say is that the amount of meat sacrificed is determined based on means and based on how many people the bringer of the sacrifice is feeding. Eating meat in the ancient world was rare (and I don’t mean how they preferred their steak). It was a true sacrifice to give up an animal. The slaughter was done in the Temple, with special ceremony, elevating the act of eating to a holy communion with God. Eating meat was special for the holidays – not a McDonalds convenience, it was the opposite of convenient.

I love that, in our tradition, taking the life of an animal was not done lightly.

And if joy is derived from eating meat, then perhaps it’s better to think of eating meat the way we should think of desert. We all love certain deserts, but what makes desert special is that it’s only eaten on special days and for special occasions.

Maybe we can eat less meat during the week and save it for Shabbat and special occasions. Then, when we eat it, it would be special, different, both words that come from the Hebrew root Kadosh – holy.

Today’s gem comes in the first lines of the daf:

We learned in a mishna there (Pe’a 1:1): These are the mitzvot that have no measure: Produce in the corner of the field that must be left unharvested, which is given to the poor [pe’a]; and the first fruits, which are brought to the Temple; and the appearance in the Temple on the pilgrim Festivals; and acts of loving-kindness; and Torah study.

So, these mitzvot have no measure, no designated amount, according to the text. However, what the text means is that there is no maximum amount, as we learn from the commentaries. Rashi teaches that “the corners of the field” has no maximum (you can give everything) but the sages establish the minimum of 1/60th. The first fruits likewise has a minimum but no maximum. Acts of loving kindness that we perform with the body have no maximum while giving money has a minimum (10%) and a maximum (20%), and only has the maximum lest the giver end up putting herself into poverty by giving too much.

So, you may be wondering, what about Torah study? Again, no maximum. But the minimum is to study Torah every single day AND every single night. You may be saying – impossible – well, they count saying the shema in the morning and the evening as Torah study – but teaching Torah? They say you should do all day long and in everything that you do.

What a beautiful way to live.

When you look at a the scroll of a Torah, you see the words, handwritten, in lines – no vowels, no punctuation . . . But when you are practicing – there they are, vowels and flourishes on the letters letting you know exactly how to sing it, when to pause, when it’s the end of a sentence, it’s all there. We sing Torah and the way we sing it lets our listener know more fully the meaning of the text than if they were to read it.

So, today’s gem is a shout out to the ancient practice of singing Torah. How, if the cantillation were slightly different, how the meaning of the text could change:

Rav Ḥisda raises a dilemma: This verse, how is it written, i.e., how should it be understood? Should the following verse be read as two separate halves, with the first part consisting of: “And he sent the young men of the children of Israel, and they sacrificed burnt-offerings” (Exodus 24:5), which were sheep; and the second part consisting of the rest of the verse: “And they sacrificed peace-offerings of bulls to the Lord,” i.e., these peace-offerings alone were bulls? Or perhaps both of these were bulls, as the term: “Bulls,” refers both to the burnt-offerings and the peace-offerings.

The Gemara asks: What is the practical difference between the two readings? Mar Zutra said: The practical difference is with regard to the punctuation of the cantillation notes, whether there should be a break in the verse after: “And they sacrificed burnt-offerings,” indicating that these offerings consisted of sheep; or whether it should read: “And they sacrificed burnt-offerings and sacrificed peace-offerings of bulls,” as one clause.

I think of how often texts and emails are misconstrued because we don’t hear the speaker to catch if they’re being sincere or mocking. How nuance is missing . . . the cantillation gives us that and more.

I had to include this fabulous folk expression from the daf:

Rava said that this explains the folk saying that people say: A dinar for produce is not found; for hanging it can be found.

It’s essentially saying we don’t have money to help the poor but when they steal to get food to eat we have the money to jail them . . .

Love this social justice commentary.

Ever heard the expression “no good deed goes unpunished”? Well, today’s daf agrees. It gets us into the nuances of how to “best” give.

The Gemara asks: What is the meaning of the end of that verse: “Whether it be good, or whether it be evil” (Ecclesiastes 12:14)? This verse indicates that God judges man harshly even for the good deeds he performs. The Sages from the school of Rabbi Yannai say: This verse is referring to one who gives charity to a poor person in public. Although he performed a good deed, he embarrassed the pauper, as in this case of Rabbi Yannai, who saw a certain man who was giving a dinar to a poor person in public. He said to him: It would have been better had you not given it to him than what you did, as now you gave it to him and embarrassed him.

Would it really have been better not to give? Doubtful. But we see here the importance of not only giving tzedakah, but of preserving the dignity of the receiver. Human dignity is of the upmost importance in Judaism, after all, we are created in the image of God! Here, we learn that when we give, we should give in a way that preserves that sanctity as best as we can.

The Sages from the school of Rabbi Sheila say: This verse is referring to one who gives charity to a woman in private, as he subjects her to suspicion, for people might think that he is engaging her services as a prostitute.

Here again, the dignity of the recipient of tzedakah is primary in our minds – but it results in a different behavior. Whereas with the man you give in private, with the woman, her reputation would be damaged if she were alone with a man in private (who is not a relative or her husband).

This daf gives us a question that we should ask ourselves today: How can we best give in ways that honor the dignity of those receiving? How do I honor the image of the Divine in the person I am attempting to help? What do they need from me?

Sometimes death comes and takes us in old age, after having lived a full life. Other times, death comes too early, but slowly, giving us time to say goodbye, finish what we can. And still, other times it comes swiftly and out of nowhere and we are left baffled and often furious at the randomness and unfairness of loss.

On today’s daf, we learn about which verses in the Tanakh various rabbis find upsetting:

When Rav Yosef reached this verse, he cried: “But there are those swept away without justice” (Proverbs 13:23). He said: Is there one who goes before his time and dies for no reason?

He is upset about the idea that people are taken with no apparent reason – and he asks, can this even happen?

The Gemara answers: Yes, like this incident of Rav Beivai bar Abaye, who would be frequented by the company of the Angel of Death and would see how people died at the hands of this angel. The Angel of Death said to his agent: Go and bring me, i.e., kill, Miriam the raiser, i.e., braider, of women’s hair. He went, but instead brought him Miriam, the raiser of babies. The Angel of Death said to him: I told you to bring Miriam, the raiser of women’s hair. His agent said to him: If so, return her to life. He said to him: Since you have already brought her, let her be counted toward the number of deceased people.

Here, it was one woman’s time to die (and don’t you wan to know more about these Miriams? Braider of hair and raiser of babies . . . ) and another woman with the same name is taken instead. A mistake was made, but there is no remedy.

Rav Beivai wonders that it was even possible for her to be taken before her time: But as her time to die had not yet arrived, how were you able to kill her? The agent responded that he had the opportunity, as she was holding a shovel in her hand and with it she was lighting and sweeping the oven. She took the fire and set it on her foot; she was scalded and her luck suffered, which gave me the opportunity, and I brought her.

An accident. It just happened. Completely unfair and out of nowhere.

Rav Beivai bar Abaye said to the Angel of Death: Do you have the right to act in this manner, to take someone before his time? The Angel of Death said to him: And is it not written: “But there are those swept away without justice” (Proverbs 13:23)?

Yes. The unfairness of it all, the pain for no apparent reason. . . that, indeed is a reason to cry, a reason to wail.

Chagigah opened up with a somewhat offensive Mishnah:

MISHNA: All are obligated on the three pilgrim Festivals in the mitzva of appearance, i.e., to appear in the Temple as well as to sacrifice an offering, except for a deaf-mute, an imbecile, and a minor; and a tumtum, and a hermaphrodite, and women, and slaves who are not emancipated; and the lame, and the blind, and the sick, and the old, and one who is unable to ascend to Jerusalem on his own legs. . .

Yes, this is a very old text, but we still feel that these categories of people are seen as “less than” the able-bodied man. While there is much to be said in defense of the Talmud, including that these individuals are not OBLIGATED but that doesn’t mean they cannot – today’s daf really made me feel a bit better about our ancestors. It questions the assumptions made around those who are deaf or mute and their ability to learn.

Take a read:

Gemara asks: Is that to say that one who is not able to speak is not able to learn? But consider the following incident. There were two mute people who were in the neighborhood of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi. They were the sons of the daughter of Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Gudgeda, and some say that they were the sons of the sister of Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Gudgeda. Whenever Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi would enter the study hall they would also enter and sit before the Sages, and they would nod their heads as if they understood and move their lips.

And Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi prayed for God to have mercy upon them, and they were healed. And it was discovered that they had learned and were proficient in halakha, i.e., Mishna; Sifra, the halakhic midrash on Leviticus; Sifrei, the halakhic midrash on Numbers and Deuteronomy; and the entire Talmud. This shows that those who cannot speak are able to learn.

This story shows that those who are differently abled are not somehow deficient, they are just unique! Here, these two mute individuals are proven to be brilliant. How they were underestimated! And how true of so many.

We now live in a world where we know better. We know that someone who is deaf and mute can still be brilliant. We know that there are different ways to learn, different ways to be mobile, different ways to navigate the world. And most of all, we know that all of that difference is what makes a person unique, what makes the world interesting, and what shows us how blessed we are to be alive.

“Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, m’shaneh habriyot.  Blessed are You, Adonai our God, ruler of the universe, who varies creation.”

Welcome to a new tractate! Chag means festival and refers to one of the three pilgrimage festivals in Judaism: Sukkot, Passover, and Shavuot. So, we will be delving into the pilgrimage festivals for the next 26 days. . .

Have you heard the expression “to see and be seen”? Well, it comes from our daf when discussing the “mitzvah of appearance:

All are obligated on the three pilgrim Festivals in the mitzva of appearance. . .

It goes on to define “all” as only being able-bodied, free, men. But the gem here is the “See and be seen” aspect of a pilgrimage holiday. It’s not the same somewhat shallow desire we have when making social appearances, here we are hoping to see and be seen by God. Here, we are hoping for an intimate experience with the Divine. We go to come close to our Maker.

How do you show up for God? How do you find ways to draw close?