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

We have been learning that one should not mourn on the intermediate days of the festivals. As such, the daf today continues to discuss if, when and how one can attend to the dead on the intermediate days of the festival. Today we are posed with a new question: If you can’t mourn during a festival, can you celebrate? Can you marry during these intermediate days?

The Gemara asks: And if it is a source of joy for him, what of it? Isn’t there is a mitzva to rejoice on a Festival?

Now we get why we can’t marry during a festival:

Rav Yehuda said that Shmuel said, and, so too, Rabbi Elazar said that Rabbi Oshaya said, and some say that Rabbi Elazar said that Rabbi Ḥanina said: The reason that one may not get married on the intermediate days of a Festival is because one may not mix one joy with another joy, as each requires its own celebration.

This is one of the core principals in Judaism – don’t mix your celebrations. Each joy, each blessing, needs to be separately celebrated and acknowledged. I love this because it has us finding many times to celebrate and really counting each blessing.

But there are more reasons:

Rabba bar Rav Huna said: The reason is because he forsakes the rejoicing of the pilgrimage Festival and occupies himself with rejoicing with his wife.

Yep! He is going to be celebrating his marriage and the festival will just be an afterthought.

Ulla said: The reason one may not marry on the intermediate days of a Festival is due to the excessive exertion that the wedding preparations demand, which is prohibited during the Festival.

I know my wedding couples can attest to this! Putting together a wedding is a ton of work. And the festival should be a time of relaxing and celebrating.

Rabbi Yitzḥak Nappaḥa said: The reason is due to the neglect of the mitzva to be fruitful and multiply. If it were permissible to get married during the intermediate days of a Festival, people would delay getting married until then in order to save money by avoiding the necessity of preparing separate feasts for the Festival and for the wedding. In the meantime they would neglect the mitzva of procreation.

All interesting reasons – all very true.

The take home is to count your blessings. Celebrate every win, every relationship, every joy, festival, simcha – and give them their own time.

That’ll be a lot of dancing.

Our daf discusses the following Mishna:

MISHNA: When symptoms of leprosy appear, they must be examined by a priest, who determines whether or not the symptoms qualify as leprosy. [/topics/rabbi-meir]Rabbi Meir says: A priest may initially examine an individual showing symptoms of leprosy on the intermediate days of a Festival in order to be lenient, i.e., he may pronounce the individual to be free of leprosy, but not in order to be stringent; he may not pronounce the individual to be impure. The individual does not become ritually impure until the priest pronounces him to have leprosy, and therefore the priest may remain silent and thereby prevent causing the afflicted individual distress during the Festival. And the Rabbis say: The priest may not examine the symptoms in order to be lenient or in order to be stringent.

The Gemara explains: One Sage, Rabbi Meir, holds that the matter depends upon the discretion of the priest; if he is found ritually pure, the priest declares him pure, and if he is found ritually impure, the priest can remain silent. As long as the priest does not declare the affected individual ritually impure, he does not become impure. And one Sage, Rabbi Yosei, holds that since it is written: “This is the law of the plague of leprosy…to pronounce it pure or to pronounce it impure” (Leviticus 13:59), the priest is not permitted to be silent; just as he is obligated to declare him pure when that is the case, so too, he is bound to declare him impure when his symptoms indicate impurity.

I love this (and that’s not even including the side conversation about if he and his wife can still have sex while he is in quarantine). We have two values in juxtaposition. The value of “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything” as represented by Rabbi Meir and the value of “If you see something, say something” represented by Rabbi Yosei. 

Rabbi Meir is being kind. If someone is declared pure, they can go and enjoy the festivities with the whole community! But if they are declared impure they have to isolate from their wife, so he just wants to provide a path for more people to celebrate more freely. So, he says you can just not declare someone impure, you can wait.

However, Rabbi Yosei reminds us that our responsibility is to speak justice and truth. He reminds us that, if we know someone is impure, and if we know something is wrong, we have an obligation to say something. It’s not okay to remain silent. 

The daf leaves us with the question of: How do we balance these two lessons? 

A great rabbi once told me, before you speak, ask yourself: Do I need to say this? and: Do they need to hear it? 

In a discussion of grave markers and plowing fields where there might be some human remains, we get this gem:

Abaye said: Learn from this that when there is a Torah scholar in the city, all affairs of the city are thrust upon him.

It’s a great statement about what is means to really be a representative of Torah. It’s not just enough to sit in the bet midrash and study Torah – you need to know what’s going on in your community and the world around you. Torah is not just a book – it’s meant to be lived.

I also find this a powerful text to think about after the hostage situation on Shabbat. Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker should not have to know how to negotiate with terrorists, or defend his congregants, or plan escape routes – but when there is a Torah scholar in the city, all affairs of the city are thrust upon him. When crisis hit, he stepped up.

God bless him.

I had three funerals this weekend. Perhaps that is why my gem focuses in around the source of the tradition to make a monument, tombstone, or marker on the graves of our loved ones. The gem is not very sentimental, it’s concern is that of impurity:

One may mark graves on the intermediate days of a Festival so that passersby will know to avoid them and not become ritually impure. Rabbi Shimon ben Pazi said: Where is there an allusion in the Torah to the marking of graves? The verse states: “And when they that pass through shall pass through the land, and any see a man’s bone, then shall he set up a sign by it” (Ezekiel 39:15).

Ezekiel is very explicit about marking graves. Various rabbis join in on the daf, trying to cite earlier verses for the source of marking graves as a sign to warn against impurity. They are so focused in on thinking about impurity, that they miss the earliest source of making a marker – when Jacob erects a monument for Rachel when she died in childbirth while they are traveling. This is not simply marking a grave to warn of impurity, this is marking a grave because of love, honor and respect for the dead. Because a heart is broken, a mother is missing, a partner taken away.

Sometimes these rabbis are so insensitive. And yet, in their quoting of verses to try and find an even earlier source of marking graves, they do give another gem that does show sensitivity – sensitivity to their teachers.

And finally, Ravina said: This obligation (or marking graves) is alluded to by the verse “And to him who orders his way, I will show the salvation of God” (Psalms 50:23), meaning that one must mark the pathways that are ritually pure and upon which it is appropriate to walk.

With regard to the verse from Psalms cited above, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: Whoever appraises his ways in this world and contemplates how to act in the most appropriate way possible merits seeing the salvation of the Holy One, Blessed be He, as it is stated: “And to him who orders his way.” Do not read it as vesam, who orders; rather, read it as vesham, and appraises. With this reading, the verse indicates that one who appraises his ways, him will I show the salvation of God.

Now we get an example:

Rabbi Yannai had a certain student who would raise difficulties with his teachings every day as they were learning. On Shabbat of a Festival, when the broader public would come to hear the lesson, the student would not raise any difficulties, lest Rabbi Yannai lack an immediate answer and suffer embarrassment. Rabbi Yannai read this verse about him: “And to him who orders his way, I will show the salvation of God” (Psalms 50:23), for he considered his conduct and determined when it was inappropriate to challenge his master.

I do love this. It reminds us that there is a when and whee for everything, even in a faith that LOVES questions and challenges, there is a time and a place.

This is true for those of us who are blessed enough to have a partner to parent with – that you may not agree with their choices but it is usually not the time to say so in front of the kids. It’s often true when it comes to public critique about Israel. And always true when you’re telling someone they have food stuck in their teeth.

Both marking graves and knowing when and where it is appropriate to challenge our teachers are pieces of what it means to build a holy community. May we strive to build one for ourselves.

Today’s gem is a gem for two reasons – it shows how even the rabbis who studies these laws constantly and consistently did not always understand what the law is at the end of the day. And the second reason is because of the questiosn the text brings up about justice:

The Gemara relates that Ravina and Rabba Tosefa’a were once walking along the road when they saw a certain man that was drawing water with a bucket on the intermediate days of a Festival. Rabba Tosefa’a said to Ravina: Let the Master come and excommunicate him for transgressing the words of the Sages. Ravina said to him: But isn’t it taught in a baraita: One may draw water for vegetables in order to eat them, and so he has not committed a transgression. Rabba Tosefa’a said to him: Do you maintain that what is meant by one may draw [madlin] is that one may draw water in order to irrigate the vegetables? This is not so. Rather, what is meant by one may draw is that one may pull out some of the vegetables that are growing densely together. The baraita comes to teach that one is permitted to thin out a garden bed on the intermediate days of a Festival in order to eat on the Festival those that he removes, but he is prohibited to do so in order to enhance the appearance of those that remain. As we learned in a mishna (Pe’a 7:5): One who thins out [meidel] the vines in his vineyard, just as he may thin out his own vines, so too, he may thin out the vines set aside for the poor. Since he is doing it for the sake of the vines, he may also thin out what he leaves for the poor; this is the statement of Rabbi Yehuda. Rabbi Meir disagrees and says: His own vines he is permitted to thin out, but he is not permitted to thin out the vines set aside for the poor. This mishna indicates that the term meidel can be used to mean thinning out and does not refer only to drawing water.

Ravina said to Rabba Tosefa’a: But wasn’t it explicitly taught in a baraita: One may draw water to irrigate vegetables in order to eat them?! Rabba Tosefa’a said to him: If it is taught explicitly in a baraita, the halakha is as it is taught, and I retract my statement.

Wow! Rabbi Tosefa’a is ready to EXCOMMUNICATE this man for washing some vegetables he is going to eat!!! He has arguments on his side, is quoting verses fro the bible in his support! Thank God that Ravina was there and could tell him about this baraita which says what the man was doing was perfectly okay.

So, it has me wondering how many times we punish people unfairly in the name of “justice.” How can we find someone to counterbalance our opinions and judgements? And, just as Tosefa’a was willing to admit his mistake, can we admit our own?

Our daf today revisits prohibited agricultural behavior in the Sabbatical Year (again, we need to base how we will behave in the intermediate day of the holidays of Passover and Sukkot based on the laws concerning other sacred times). The gem comes as Rav Ukva bar Hama differentiates between two types of hoeing.

Rav Ukva bar Ḥama said: There are two types of light hoeing, one whose objective is to strengthen the trees, and another that is intended to seal cracks. There is a practical halakhic difference between them: Hoeing performed in order to strengthen the tree is prohibited, as it is similar to plowing in that it enhances the tree’s growth. However, hoeing undertaken in order to seal cracks is permitted, as by doing so one prevents damage to the tree.

This really has me thinking about what it means to let something rest and recover, both in the agricultural world, and in terms of our relationships. Here, we learn we cannot do anything during the Sabbatical year that will encourage the tree to grow, but we can prevent damage to the tree. And I am thinking about the teenaged years when teens so often just want to be left alone. Have a space where they are not being pushed or molded – but, at the same time, still need that space to be a space where there would be an intervention if any damage was being done. The rabbis struggle with what is permitted and what is not. Just as parents struggle to walk that line with their moody teens. When do I intervene? When do I let it go and see what happens?

I also think about strangers. Is it really my place to intervene with a stranger if I think they have an opportunity to grow? Only when they have given me permission. But, when it comes to preventing harm being done to a stranger – I believe we are obligated, and not just permitted, to seal those cracks, to protect. . .

I love oxymorons . . . even the word oxymoron. Moed Katan means “little festival,” so, one might think this is for minor holidays. But no. Moed Katan focuses in on what is known as “Chol Hamoed”, the intermediate days of Pesach and Sukkot. But it literally translates as the non-holy part of the festival . . . so the non-holy of the holydays. The expression seems an oxymoron. It’s not Yom Tov, for it is chol, but it is still part of the festival, still moed.

So, this tractate is going to tell us how to walk this fine line. We already struggled through many discussions about how holidays have rules but those rules are similar to and didfferent from Shabbat. These intermediate days of the festival will take us on a similar route – how is this Tuesday of Passover different from a regular Tuesday, the first day of the chag, and different from Shabbat?

But I though we could just enjoy some oxymoron’s in honor of this new endeavor:

1. Small crowd
2. Sweet Sorrow
3. Old news
4. Open secret
5. Living dead
6. Deafening silence
7. Only choice
8. Pretty ugly
9. Awfully good
10. Almost exactly
11. Same difference
12. Minor Crisis
13. Working Holiday
14. Bittersweet
15. Plastic Silverware
16. Jumbo Shrimp
17. Moed Katan

Happy last day of Megillah! It’s been a great tractate and it ends with a wonderful gem.

I have Christian colleagues and friends who, when facing a hard choice, pray on it. They will often tell me that God gave them an answer. Sometimes, they will say they hear a voice. An Episcopal Priest told me he joined seminary when, in college, he was lying in his bread praying silently for God to help him see if this way the right path for him. He recounts that his roommate who was on the bunk bed above him, leaned over the edge and said, “I know this might sound strange, but for some reason I have this urge to tell you that you need to go forward and be brave. Does that make sense to you?”

I too have wanted to hear God’s voice. As a kid, I would shoot basketballs and if I made the shot assume that was a yes from God about whatever question was on my mind. (When I didn’t like the answer I would go for 2 out of 3.)

I love today’s gem, because it shows the rabbis’ longing for the same thing – to have clarity, to know the right choice, to want to hear from God that “this is what you should do.” But what does God’s voice sound like? How do we know when we are hearing it?

And Rabbi Shefatya said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: If one was deliberating about whether to do a certain action, and a Divine Voice indicated what he should do, from where is it derived that one may make use of a Divine Voice and rely upon it? As it is stated: “And your ears shall hear a word behind you saying: This is the way, walk in it” (Isaiah 30:21). The Gemara comments: This applies only when one heard a male voice in the city, which is unusual, for men are usually found in the fields, or when one heard a female voice in the fields, for women are generally not found there. Since the voice is unusual, one need not doubt it and may rely upon it. And that applies when the voice repeated its message and said: Yes, yes. And that also applies when the voice said: No, no.

I love this. I love that God’s voice can be that of a man or a woman, or a city person or country person. I love that God’s voice is there, if we are willing to listen. But not just listen to what we normally listen to – listen to the unsual.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a big decision to make so I am going to shoot a few free-throws.

Hadran Alech Megillah.

Today’s daf is another page of what Torah and Haftarah portions to read on various holidays and New Moons. The gem comes from a reading that really emphasizes why the rabbis cared so much what section of Torah was read. In a time when the Temple is no longer standing in Jerusalem and we cannot offer sacrifices to atone for our sins and failings, studying portions about those sacrifices become equivalent to us having given them (hence their insistence on complete attention being given to our prayer services and our Torah studies). How do we learn this? Well, from our ancestor Abraham! Not only the first Jew, but a prophet who could see the future and knew that one day the Temple would be destroyed (which is impressive also given the fact that the Temple hadn’t been built and wouldn’t be for 1200 years).

This all comes as an explanation of the Torah reading for non-priestly watches.

The mishna states: In the non-priestly watches they read the act of Creation. The Gemara asks: From where are these matters derived, i.e., why do they read the account of Creation? Rabbi Ami said: To allude to the fact that were it not for the non-priestly watches, heaven and earth would not endure, as it is stated: “Were it not for My covenant day and night, I would not have set the statutes of heaven and earth” (Jeremiah 33:25). God’s covenant is referring to the offerings sacrificed in the Temple, which sustain the world.

And with regard to Abraham it is written: “And he said, O Lord God, by what shall I know that I shall inherit it?” (Genesis 15:8). Abraham said before the Holy One, Blessed be He: Master of the Universe, perhaps, Heaven forbid, the Jewish people will sin before You, and You will do to them as You did to the generation of the Flood and as You did to the generation of the Dispersion, i.e., You will completely destroy them? God said to him: No, I will not do that.

Abraham then said before Him: Master of the Universe: “By what shall I know this?” God said to him: “Take Me a heifer of three years old” (Genesis 15:9). With this, God intimated to Abraham that even if his descendants will sin, they will be able to achieve atonement through sacrificing offerings. Abraham said before Him: Master of the Universe, this works out well when the Temple is standing and offerings can be brought to achieve atonement, but when the Temple will no longer be standing, what will become of them? God said to him: I have already established for them the order of offerings, i.e., the verses of the Torah pertaining to the halakhot of the offerings. Whenever they read those portions, I will deem it as if they sacrificed an offering before Me, and I will pardon them for all of their iniquities.

This gives us the premise that there is a connection between keeping God’s laws and the continued existence of the world. That the existence of the world and the wellbeing of humanity, is ensured by the sacrifices. And, in a time of no Temple and no sacrifice, that God taught the first Jew that studying the portions of the Torah that deal with the sacrifices is equivalent to offering them.

So, what Torah we read becomes very important when we think of it as a supplement for sacrifice and therefore, by reading the right parashah, we atone for our sins.

Praise the Lord that we have something now called a luach that tells us exactly what to read each day.

Today we get a list of what Torah readings we are to read in the weeks before Purim, immediately after, and then special readings for various holidays including Rosh Hodesh. These special readings interrupt what one would normally be reading that week. There is a debate over if it interrupts the entire week (as we read Torah Monday, Thursday, and Shabbat) or just on the day it falls and Shabbat.

The gem comes from a debate between Abaye and R. Jeremiah. Abaye believes we interrupt the regular Torah reading and then resume after the holiday. R Jeremiah believes that when the holiday falls on Shabbat, the regular Torah reading is interrupted but not the haftarah. Anyway – this goes on to ask what Torah do we read on fast days?

Gemara asks: But on fast days, why do I need to have any interruption of the regular order of Torah readings? Let us read in the morning the regular weekly portion of the matter of the day, and in the afternoon service let us read the portion of a fast day. The Gemara comments: This supports the statement of Rav Huna, for Rav Huna said: From the morning of communal fasts, a gathering is held in the synagogue. The community leaders examine the conduct of the townspeople and admonish those whose behavior is found wanting. Therefore, there is no time in the morning to read the Torah portion for fast days.

The Gemara asks: What does the community do on a public fast day? Abaye said: From the morning until the middle of the day, the community gathers in the synagogue, and the leaders examine the affairs of the town to determine whether and how the people’s conduct needs to be improved. From the middle of the day until the evening, a quarter of the day is spent reading from the Torah and reading the haftara, and a quarter of the day is spent praying, as it is stated: “And they read in the book of the Torah of the Lord their God one quarter of the day, and a quarter of the day they confessed, and they prostrated themselves before the Lord their God” (Nehemiah 9:3).

I love this gem of a passage – that it’s not enough to just fast and pray – the real work is sitting and examining our deeds. This is the first thing we need to do. The most important thing we need to do.
Remember, the fast days referred to here are those called because it has not rained, or because of other national crises. So, what have we done wrong? What can we do? What’s our responsibility? What can we change?
I love the taking of responsibility, and that we do not pray and read Torah without reflecting on ourselves and our actions and their consequences.