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

As someone living near the ocean, or as someone concerned with sea level rise, I know the preciousness of coral. But, I didn’t know the rabbis of the Talmud did until I read today’s daf.

What is this tzi adir? Rav said: This is a great ship [burnei] used to collect coral from the sea. The Gemara explains: How do they perform this collection of coral? They bring six thousand men to work for twelve months of the year, and some say they bring twelve thousand men for six months of the year. And they load the ship with sand until it sinks to the bottom of the sea. A diver descends and ties flax ropes around the coral and ties the other ends of the ropes to the boat. And then they take the sand and cast it overboard, and the boat rises once again to the surface. And as it rises, it uproots and brings the coral with it.The Gemara comments: And this coral is so precious that it is exchanged for twice its weight in silver.

What a way to farm! Right now, coral is in grave danger. According to the EPA (https://www.epa.gov/coral-reefs/threats-coral-reefs) our reefs are threatened by “Physical damage or destruction from coastal development, dredging, quarrying, destructive fishing practices and gear, boat anchors and groundings, and recreational misuse (touching or removing corals). Pollution that originates on land but finds its way into coastal waters” and adds sedimentation, nutrients (in this case threatening ones), pathogens, toxic substances, trash and micro-plastics. Coral is also threatened by over fishing, coral harvesting (which today may look a bit different than on the daf). And increased water temperatures are killing coral through ocean acidification and coral bleaching. 25% of all marine life depend on coral reefs. Humans rely on coral reefs for costal protection, jobs, and medications.

So, yes, corals are more precious than fine silver.

Before you go, two other fabulous lines from the daf:

And Rabbi Yoḥanan also said: Anyone who studies Torah but does not teach it to others is likened to a myrtle in the wilderness. The myrtle has a pleasant fragrance, but there is nobody to enjoy it in the wilderness.

And a fun fact that the daf gives us that science confirms: The concave side of a crescent moon always faces away from the Sun! A waxing moon always has its lit side toward the western horizon; a waning moon always has its lit side toward the eastern horizon.

Who can you trust to tell the truth? That’s the question at the heart of today’s page. On our daf we get a great story where some Boethusians try and pay off a Sage to declare the new moon at the wrong time, changes in who we trust to declare the new moon, and how we spread the word of the new moon, and this question: Who is trustworthy? And for what purposes?

MISHNA: The following are unfit to give testimony: One who plays with dice [kubbiyya] or other games of chance for money; and those who lend money with interest; and those who race pigeons and place wagers on the outcome; and merchants who deal in produce of the Sabbatical Year, which may be eaten, but may not be an object of commerce; and slaves.

All of these are examples of individuals who may have financial reasons to be dishonest. The Mishnah continues: This is the principle: Any testimony for which a woman is unfit, these too are unfit. Steinsaltz adds: Although in certain cases a woman’s testimony is accepted, e.g., to testify to the death of someone’s husband, in the majority of cases her testimony is not valid.

Offended? Me too! But I believe we need to be honest about what is in the text. Who do they mistrust? People with economic reasons to lie and women. Should they reexamine their class structure and the way they treat women? I think so. That this comes within a daf where they talk about how things used to work (Initially, they would light torches to declare the new month) and how they changed it (After the Samaritans [Kutim] corrupted and ruined this method by lighting torches at the wrong times to confuse the Jews, the Sages instituted that messengers should go out to the Diaspora and inform them of the start of the month) shows that we are a faith of tradition and change. We can and do change things that no longer fit the times and are no longer seen as just.

My gem is both that and this:

GEMARA: This implies that any testimony for which a woman is fit, these too are fit. Rav Ashi said: That is to say, a robber by rabbinic law is fit to give testimony to enable a woman to remarry.

There is a terrible situation that happens to women whose men go away – to war, to do business, for study – and never return. Can this woman remarry? Only if there are witnesses that he has died. Here, the rabbis accept even the testimonies of us women, and the robbers and gamblers and slaves – because they want justice.

It’s our job to continue to recognize when there is injustice in the law and change it. So we can say “Initially we did things that way” then we realized it was unjust so we “instituted” a change.

Today’s gem: Don’t be so sure. You may have a lot of reasons to support your opinion, but keep an open mind to hearing the other side:

Rav and Shmuel disagreed about a matter relating to this verse: One of them said: Fifty gates of understanding were created in the world, and all of them were given to Moses, except for one gate, for it is stated: “The words of the Lord are purified shivatayim,” which he understands to mean seven times seven, i.e., forty-nine, and it is stated: “And You have made him a little less than God” (Psalms 8:6). God created fifty gates of understanding, but He made man a little lower than God, giving him only forty-nine of them.

Even Moses himself, who heard the Torah right from God, was not given full understanding. He came close to knowing truth, but even Moses did not know things with 100% certainty. How much less so do we! And yet we act as if we are sole arbiters of the truth.

Midrash Psalms 12 (10th Cen., Land of Israel), takes this idea even further:
Rabbi Yanai said: The Torah was not given in a clear cut manner, rather on every statement that God said to Moses, God would say forty-nine reasons (panim, lit. faces) the matter could be pure, and forty-nine reasons why the matter could be impure. He (Moses) said to God, ‘Master of the Universe, when will we know the truth (or clarification) of the matter?’ God said to him (Moses): ‘Go according to the majority’ (Exodus 23:2). If the majority rules it is impure – it is impure, if the majority rules it is pure – it is pure.

Here we see two sides – both having almost complete certainty that they are right! Both with 49 arguments to support their opinion. That’s a 98% certainty! (Statistically that’s phenomenal.) But there is still that sliver of possibility. So, how do we ensure that we make the right choice? In the Midrash, it suggests we go with the majority. In the Talmud, we look to those brilliant houses of study who know Torah so well and who can easily give 49 reasons to support their ideas: Hillel and Shammai. And we take it back to Eruvin 13b:10-12:

Rabbi Abba said that Shmuel said: For three years Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disagreed. These said: The halakha is in accordance with our opinion, and these said: The halakha is in accordance with our opinion. Ultimately, a Divine Voice emerged and proclaimed: Both these and those are the words of the living God. However, the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Beit Hillel. The Gemara asks: Since both these and those are the words of the living God, why were Beit Hillel privileged to have the halakha established in accordance with their opinion? The reason is that they were agreeable and forbearing, showing restraint when affronted, and when they taught the halakha they would teach both their own statements and the statements of Beit Shammai. Moreover, when they formulated their teachings and cited a dispute, they prioritized the statements of Beit Shammai to their own statements, in deference to Beit Shammai.

So, keep an open mind. Even when you are almost completely confident, listen to others who differ from you. It may be that they have the truth, or it may be that knowing their opinion makes yours even stronger. Just make sure it’s an argument where the goal is finding the truth, not where the goal is for you to win right or wrong.

“If I could turn back time,” “If I could save time in a bottle” . . . controlling time is one of the coolest Super powers – but something that continues to allude us humans. Time is the only constant.

Or is it?

Time seems to be up for rabbinic manipulation on our daf today:

It is related that when Ulla came from Eretz Yisrael to Babylonia, he said: This year they added an extra day to the month of Elul. Ulla continued and said: Do our Babylonian colleagues understand what benefit we did for them? We pushed off Rosh HaShana for a day, so that the Festival would not occur adjacent to Shabbat.

The Gemara asks: What is the benefit in having a weekday between Shabbat and a Festival? Ulla said: Due to the vegetables that would not be picked for two days and those picked beforehand that would no longer be fresh. Rabbi Aḥa bar Ḥanina said: Due to the dead who would not be buried for two days and consequently would begin to decompose.

Yep. They added an extra day to the year for convenience.

I will say, it’s a pain when the holidays land right after Shabbat, especially when someone dies and the cemetery is not open. So, I feel for these rabbis. The calendar continues to be debated on the page. It does make you think about the amazing convenience of the whole world agreeing to a calendar – and the loss that entails – where we can’t save time in a bottle, or turn back time, or leap into the future.

Today’s gem come amidst a discussion about Megillat Ta’anit, The Scroll of Fasting, which actually gives additional festival days where great deeds/triumphs took place. The question is, if the Temple is no longer standing, do we still keep these festivals? If we are under foreign rule and not in our homeland, do we still celebrate this rabbinically declared holidays? In this discussion we get this story, my gem, which talks about just one of those Megillat Ta’anit festivals:

Rav Tovi bar Mattana raised an objection against the opinion that Megillat Ta’anit was nullified, from that which is written in it: On the twenty-eighth of Adar the good tidings came to the Jews that they should not turn away from the Torah, and on that day fasting is forbidden. And this is explained: For the wicked kingdom issued a decree against Israel that they should not occupy themselves with Torah study, and that they should not circumcise their sons, and that they should desecrate Shabbat. What did Yehuda ben Shammua and his colleagues do? They went and took advice from a certain matron [matronita] whom all the prominent men of Rome would visit regularly, thinking that she would know how to annul the decree.

She said to them as follows: Come and cry out [hafgginu] at night in the streets and markets. They went and cried out at night, saying: O Heavens! Are we Jews not your brothers; are we not children of one father; are we not children of one mother? How are we different from every other nation and tongue that you issue such harsh decrees against us? And indeed the decrees were annulled, and the Sages made that day a festive day.

When it was forbidden to study Torah, keep Shabbat, or circumcise your son – The rabbis take the advice of a Roman woman and point out their common humanity to those who are oppressing them.

I feel like we are still yelling these words today. There are so many instances of anti-semitism where this is what my heart cries: Are we Jews not your brothers; are we not children of one father; are we not children of one mother? How are we different from every other nation and tongue that you issue such harsh decrees against us?

This too is the cry of other minority groups. Or black and brown people, or LGBTQ+ people, or immigrants. Are we not your brothers?

I would like to think that calling upon someone’s empathy and common humanity and them listening is not a miracle – but maybe the Megilat Ta’anit got it right.

The page is full of gems again, but I will focus in on one that asks a question that we still ask today – why is it that people can have the same illness and one will recover and one won’t? How can two people be guilty of the same crime and one is forgiven and one is not?

The question of whether or not an individual’s sentence can be rescinded is a dispute between tanna’im, as it is taught in a baraita that Rabbi Meir would say: Two people take to their beds, and their illness is the same, or two people ascend to the tribunal [gardom] for judgment, and their potential sentence is the same; but this one comes down from his bed, while that one does not come down from his bed, and this one is saved from death, while that one is not saved.

For what reason did this one recover and come down from his bed, while that one did not recover and come down from his bed; and why was this one saved from death, while that one was not saved? The difference between them is that this one prayed and was answered, while that one prayed, but was not answered. And for what reason was this one answered and that one not answered? This one prayed a prayer with his whole heart and consequently was answered, while that one did not pray a prayer with his whole heart and therefore was not answered.

Rabbi Elazar said: Not so; rather, here he prayed before his heavenly sentence was issued, and so he was answered, whereas there the other one prayed after his heavenly sentence was issued, and therefore he was not answered. Rabbi Yitzḥak disagreed and said: Crying out to God is effective for a person, both before his sentence has been issued and also after his sentence has been issued, as even after his sentence has been issued, it can still be rescinded if he repents.

This question is one we continue to grapple with today. Why does one person recover from Covid and another die? When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, so was the cleaning lady of another rabbi. We were diagnosed at the same time and had the same stage cancer. She died. I lived.

We see this too in law enforcement. One teen is driven home with a warning when caught with pot, while another is brought to juvey/jail and has this on their record.

Is it because one repented and another didn’t? Because one’s heart broke and another’s didn’t?

No. It’s because of class, race, and access. It’s because I am white, and American citizen, a rabbi who the doctor cleared the schedule to fit in, because I had insurance, because I could pay the $70 copays for my almost daily doctor visits. She wasn’t a citizen, she was brown, she had no stature and no connections, no insurance and no ability to pay.

This is what happens in the justice system as well. Your class, race, access, and, most especially, money lessen the severity of the decree.

The rabbis ask a good question. But who is playing God in our current world?

Remember how Jews are not supposed to believe in hell? Well, those who say that have not read our daf today. Today’s daf continues the discussion of the three groups of people who are judged on Rosh Hashanah, the completely righteous, the completely wicked, and the benonim – the in-between. One of my favorite gems on this page come in a conversation about “Who are the completely wicked?”

We get some answers you would expect, and some that deserve explanation as they are very much among us today: heretics; and the informers; and the apostates [apikorsim]; and those who denied the Torah; and those who denied the resurrection of the dead; and those who separated from the ways of the Jewish community and refused to share the suffering; and those who cast their fear over the land of the living; and those who sinned and caused the masses to sin . . .

Each of these categories deserved discussion, but most are obvious, but what about those who cast fear? Have they really done anything?

And those who cast their fear over the land of the living, who are they? Rav Ḥisda said: This is referring to a communal leader [parnas] who casts excessive fear on the community not for the sake of Heaven. Rav Yehuda said that Rav said: Any community leader who casts excessive fear on the community not for the sake of Heaven will be punished and not see any Torah scholar among his sons, as it is stated: “Men do therefore fear him; he sees not any who are wise of heart” (Job 37:24).

Fear not for the sake of heaven. What is fear for the sake of heaven? Maybe real science based fear, for example climate change and Covid. What is fear not for the sake of heaven? Easy, xenophobia, bigotry, conspiracy theories . . . Apparently, there is a special place in hell for these leaders who exploit our fears for their own welfare and not the welfare of the community.

I also loved this little gem, where an individual identified by the Talmud as a woman and a convert asks a question so good it is deserving of being considered “oral Torah,” Rabbi Yosei jumps in, and we still read her words today:

Come and hear: Beloreya the convert once asked Rabban Gamliel: It is written in your Torah: “The great, mighty, and awesome God who favors no one” (Deuteronomy 10:17), and elsewhere it is written: “The Lord shall show favor to you and give you peace” (Numbers 6: 26). How can this contradiction be resolved?

Rabbi Yosei the priest joined the conversation with her and said: I will tell you a parable. To what is this matter comparable? To a person who lent his friend one hundred dinars and fixed a time for repayment of the loan before the king, and the borrower took an oath by the life of the king that he would repay the money. The time arrived, and he did not repay the loan. The delinquent borrower came to appease the king for not fulfilling the oath that he had sworn by the life of the king, and the king said to him: For my insult I forgive you, but you must still go and appease your friend. Here also the same is true: Here, the verse that states: “The Lord shall show favor to you,” is referring to sins committed between man and God, which God will forgive; there, the verse that states: “God favors no one,” is referring to sins committed between a person and another, which God will not forgive until the offender appeases the one he hurt.

We learn from her question that God is quick to forgive sins against God as long as we repent, but sins against others are not God’s to forgive, we need to do the work and go to them. This also gives us a moment of authenticity. Don’t hold back your questions because you are new to Judaism and assume everyone knows but you. Don’t hold back because of your gender and feeling it’s not your place. Each of us have Torah to give and questions for the sake of heaven are gems indeed.

I don’t know what to do with myself – Today’s daf is all gems! How to choose . . . one I even used in my Torah study Saturday: And Rabbi Yitzḥak said: A man is judged only according to his deeds at the time of his judgment, and not according to his future deeds, as it is stated with regard to Ishmael: “For God has heard the voice of the lad where he is” (Genesis 21:17).

But I will use the ones that you may be somewhat familiar with because they are such central texts to our High Holy Day teshuvah process. And one that comes right before which reminds us not to put ourselves in situations where we are likely to sin:

And Rabbi Yitzḥak said: Three matters evoke a person’s sins, and they are: Endangering oneself by sitting next to an inclined wall that is about to collapse; expecting prayer to be accepted, as that leads to an assessment of one’s status and merit; and passing a case against another to Heaven, for Rabbi Avin said: Anyone who passes a case against another to God is punished first. Praying for God to pass judgment on another causes one’s own deeds to be examined and compared with the deeds of the other.

Yes! Don’t put yourself in unnecessarily risky situations or you “judgement” may come prematurely soon. Don’t rely on your prayers being answered. And don’t judge others lest you be judged. All gems. The first two remind me of the story of the pious man who drowns in a flood because he keeps turning away help and saying that he is crying out to God and God will send help – not realizing God is the one sending all the people trying to help him. And the last reminds us to be generous with our judgements and of the traditional Jewish teaching that any sin we see in another we likely have in ourselves.

Next gem, straight from your machzor (High Holiday prayerbook):

And Rabbi Yitzḥak said: A person’s sentence is torn up on account of four types of actions. These are: Giving charity, crying out in prayer, a change of one’s name, and a change of one’s deeds for the better.

We are used to tefilah, tzedakah, and teshuvah – but here we also see that changing our name “lessens the severity of the decree.” In his Mishneh Torah, Repentance 2:4, The Rambam explains that if one does teshuvah and so distances herself from her previous sin, it is as if she has had her identity changed, as if saying: “I am now another person, and not that person who perpetrated those misdeeds.” Our new name reflects that new identity. Gorgeous.

Last gem for the day:

Rabbi Kruspedai said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Three books are opened on Rosh HaShana before the Holy One, Blessed be He: One of wholly wicked people, and one of wholly righteous people, and one of middling people whose good and bad deeds are equally balanced. Wholly righteous people are immediately written and sealed for life; wholly wicked people are immediately written and sealed for death; and middling people are left with their judgment suspended from Rosh HaShana until Yom Kippur, their fate remaining undecided. If they merit, through the good deeds and mitzvot that they perform during this period, they are written for life; if they do not so merit, they are written for death.

Another familiar image, and another opportunity to learn from the wisdom of the Rambam who teaches (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuva 3:4): “It is, therefore, necessary for every person to behold themselves throughout the whole year as being evenly balanced between innocence and guilt, and also look upon the entire world as if evenly balanced between innocence and guilt; thus, if he commit one sin, he will overbalance himself and the whole world to the side of guilt, and be a cause of its destruction; but if he perform one good deed, he will overbalance himself and the whole world to the side of virtue, and bring about his own salvation and that of the world”.

It is so easy to see ourselves as all good or all wicked. To let one deed define us in our own eyes. But really – we are all in-between, a mix of good and bad. But each moment gives us a new opportunity, a choice, between good and evil, life and death (sorry, the HHDs are taking over my writing). We choose. What will I do? What if I was created to fulfil this mitzvah that is in front of me now? What might be the repercussions for me? For the world? How powerful we are! Let’s do our best, every day, to tilt the balance toward goodness and blessings.

Have you ever walked away from an argument and then thought of what you should have said? Ever spend time brooding on what you could have, should have said? Ever watch a TV show and yell at the cast members telling them what they should say?

Apparently this instinct goes way back, because that’s our gem today.

Rabbi Yohanan and Reish Lakish, that great Talmudic pair, are arguing about if you tithe according to when the fruit of a tree is formed, or according to the time of picking the fruit. Rabbi Yohanan says it’s at the time of picking. Reish Lakish says it’s at the time of ripening.

Yohanan gives his opinion, hears that of Reish Lakish and then, we gemara says, Yohanan was silent.

Well, Rabbi Abba and Rabbi Yosei can’t stand it! Why didn’t Yohanan defend his position?!

Rabbi Abba the priest said to Rabbi Yosei the priest: Why was Rabbi Yoḥanan silent? He should have said to Reish Lakish as follows: I am speaking to you of the opinion of Rabbi Neḥemya, and you say to me the opinion of the Rabbis?

R. Yosei answers, do you abandon the opinion of the Rabbis, who constitute the majority, and act in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Neḥemya (a single rabbi)?

They continue this path, with Rabbi Abba coming up with comeback after come back: Why not say he is simply reporting what people do, not authorizing it? Why not just point out that he’s talking about a carob tree and the law is only from the rabbis and not the Torah? And Rabbi Yosei trying to come up with what come back Reish Lakish might have given.

But in the end, they both agree that Yohanan was right. Reish Lakish was wrong. So why did he say nothing?

The Gemara ends: I wonder if Rabbi Yoḥanan accepted this question and was silent because he had nothing to answer, meaning he had no good comeback, or he did not accept it but nevertheless remained silent because he thought the question was not worthy of an answer.

A good reminder that the only thing better than a good come back, is to not even think the person’s words are worthy of your time and effort.

Talmud would make great TV.

Today’s daf discusses nourishment and produce. How some plants, grains and grapes, use last year’s rainfall for nourishment while others, vegetables, receive their nourishment from the rain that falls while they are growing.

The mishna also teaches the reason that Shammai disagrees with Hillel on the new year for the trees: On the first of Shevat is the new year for trees, according to the statement of Beit Shammai. The Gemara asks: What is the reason that the new year for trees was set on this date? Rabbi Elazar said that Rabbi Oshaya said: The reason is since by that time most of the year’s rains have already fallen, and most of the season, i.e., winter, is yet to come, as it continues until the spring equinox, which usually occurs in Nisan.

Rashi comments on Rosh Hashanah 14a:9:2: Since most of the seasonal rain has come, it is the time of flowering and the sap rises in the trees as the fruit begins to ripen.

I love this imagery. I love the trees, the chemistry of it, the science.

I also love this as metaphor for how we nourish ourselves. How can we flower and produce? Where is our well of resources? Do we draw on the nurturing we received in the past? Recall our mothers? Our childhood friends? A long ago kindness? Do we draw upon the nurturing we receive now? A ‘good job’ at work? A hug? A smile from a stranger? A listening ear from a friend? A great book?

What do we need to remain fertile? What makes our “sap rise”?

May you find wells upon wells to draw from.