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

You know it’s a good daf when it includes permission to make makeshift toilets! (Rav Naḥman said: stones of a lavatory– it is permitted to put them together on a Festival.)

But today’s real gem comes from Rav Natan bar Abba. Rav Natan bar Abba is not seen very often in the pages of Talmud. Therefore, when he teaches: “One may moḥet a wick on a Festival (mohet is explained to mean getting rid of the black residue).” The Talmud uses this as an excuse to give more of his teachings and here we get our gem:

Rav Natan bar Abba said that Rav said: The wealthy Jews of Babylonia will descend to Gehenna because they do not have compassion on others. This is illustrated by incidents such as this: Shabbetai bar Marinus happened to come to Babylonia. He requested their participation in a business venture, to lend him money and receive half the profits in return, and they did not give it to him. Furthermore, when he asked them to sustain him with food, they likewise refused to sustain him.

He said: These wealthy people could not possibly be descendants of our forefathers, but they came from the mixed multitude, as it is written: “And show you compassion, and have compassion upon you, and multiply you, as He has sworn to your fathers” (Deuteronomy 13:18), from which it is derived: Anyone who has compassion for God’s creatures, it is known that he is of the descendants of Abraham, our father, and anyone who does not have compassion for God’s creatures, it is known that he is not of the descendants of Abraham, our father. Since these wealthy Babylonians do not have compassion on people, clearly they are not descended from Abraham . . .

Rav Natan bar Abba was not a wealthy man, and when the people of Babylonia do not treat his how the Torah says they should – he concludes that they can’t possibly be Jewish.

His poverty is illustrated by the other lessons he teaches as well:

This is another teaching that Rav Natan bar Abba said that Rav said: Whoever looks to the table of others for his sustenance, the world is dark for him. Everything looks bleak and hopeless to him, for it is stated: “He wanders abroad for bread: Where is it? He knows the day of darkness is ready at his hand” (Job 15:23). Rav Ḥisda said: Even his life is no life, as he receives no satisfaction from it.

Rav Natan bar Abba is a beautiful illustration of how hypocritical religious people can be, and his teaching reminds us that the goal of prayer and Torah study and service to God in really any faith is compassion towards God’s creatures.

Compassion is how you live a religious life. Everything else – the holidays, the prayers, the rituals, the study- should lead to more compassion.

Today’s daf highlights another way that the festival is different from Shabbat – that you can keep a fire going. This may seem obvious since we know that we can cook on the festival for the festival (which is also different from Shabbat) and how do you cook if you don’t have fire? But kindling a fire on Shabbat is such a BIG prohibition – a prohibition that we highlight by lighting candles both before Shabbat begins and after Shabbat ends just to highlight the difference between Shabbat and the end of the week. It’s a prohibition that is discussed in the Torah itself (not just a law by the rabbis) and a man is stoned to death for chopping wood on Shabbat! So, the fact that our daf discusses what wood you can use and how to chop it on the the festival is one way to show how very different the rules between Shabbat and the festivals are.

It also shows how much we value a hot cooked meal on chag.

Bon appetite.

today’s daf has a great conversation where one rabbi, Rav Hanan bar Rava, insists that women who are carrying water on a festival should do it in a different way than normal in honor of the festival. Rav Ashi has a great response which leads to a rule that is just fabulous:

He (Rav Ashi) said to him (Rav Hanan bar Rava): It is not possible for them to fill their jugs any other way. How should they act? She who is accustomed to filling a large jug, should she instead fill a small jug? Won’t this mean that she increases her walking, and will thereby perform unnecessary labor on the Festival? If one were to suggest the opposite, that one who fills a small jug should fill a large jug, won’t this mean that she increases her load? Furthermore, if one were to suggest that she should cover the jug with a wooden cover, sometimes it falls and she might come to bring it by hand, in the manner of a burden. Should she tie the cover to the jug, the rope might occasionally break, and she might come to tie it, a prohibited labor. Finally, should she spread a scarf over it, it occasionally falls off and becomes soaked in water, and she might come to transgress the prohibition against squeezing.

And here is the ruling and the gem:

Leave the Jews alone; it is better that they be unwitting sinners and not be intentional sinners.

Yes!

We get this rule again on the page when it says that, while people maybe shouldn’t be playing music, and clapping and dancing might lead to someone grabbing an instrument: Rather, the accepted principle is: Leave the Jews alone; it is better that they be unwitting sinners and not be intentional sinners.

I have discussed this concept before – that it’s better to allow someone to keep doing a prohibited behavior if they 1) do not know they are sinning and 2) if they knew would keep doing the behavior anyway. It’s like when I asked my grandpa how to make tea on Shabbat and he said, “Do you really want to know? Once you know, if you don’t make tea this way you will be intentionally sinning.”

How should women carry water on a festival? Should people be clapping and carrying on when celebrating?

The answer: Leave them alone. They’re not hurting anyone and your critique won’t change anything but how they feel about themselves.

One great piece of advice I received on whether or not to correct another person is: Do you need to say it and do they need to hear it? If both are not true, maybe keep it to yourself.

There is a Talmudic idea that, if you are unsure of the law (or what the law should be) then you should go out and see what the people are doing. Societal norms can help determine the law. And today’s gem is that, after the men debating a halakhah about the ability to use a sieve on the festival – that they could have learned the law just by watching what the women ALREADY do.

Rava bar Rav Huna the Short (an aside: I am not sure why Rava bar Rav Huna is suddenly “the short” but I am definitely curious, is it because his teaching in this instance is superfluous?) taught at the entrance to Neharde’a: One may sift flour a second time on a Festival. Rav Naḥman said to the students standing before him: Go out and say to Abba, i.e., to Rava bar Rav Huna, as Rava is a shortened form of Rav Abba: Your good has been removed and cast upon thorns, meaning that your teachings are not needed – superfluous. Go out and see how many sieves circulate in Neharde’a, meaning: all the women already know that this is permitted.

The Gemara relates that Rav Yosef’s wife was once sifting flour in an unusual manner on the reverse side of a sieve. He said to her: Look, I want good-quality bread, hinting that she need not invert the sieve but may sift the flour in her regular fashion. The Gemara likewise relates that Rav Ashi’s wife was once sifting flour onto a table, rather than into a bowl in the usual manner. Rav Ashi said: This one of ours, my wife, is the daughter of Rami bar Ḥama, and Rami bar Ḥama is a master of good deeds who is meticulous in his performance of mitzvot. Had my wife not observed this practice in her father’s house, she would not have acted in this manner. Therefore, one can learn the halakha in practice from her actions.

We see that the women, while not getting to spend their days in the study hall – know the law, live the law, practice the law – and can be sources for others to learn the law.

I love this, and I also love that, even over 1600 years later, if you really want to know a place, know the rules of the land, that one of the best places to be is in a local woman’s kitchen. Even at dinner parties, the kitchen is where all the real talk happens. It’s where we pass on traditions, recipes, and stories.

So, if I can prepare food on a festival for the festival – can I also sharpen my knife? That’s the subject of today’s daf. Some say no, some say, only in an unusual manner, but Rabbi Yehuda says:

The difference between a Festival and Shabbat is only with regard to the preparation of food, as it is permitted to perform labor for the purpose of food preparation on a Festival, but not on Shabbat; Rabbi Yehuda permits even actions that facilitate preparation of food on a Festival, e.g., repairing utensils with which food is prepared on the Festival.

Love those lenient rulings, and so does Rav Hisda . . . especially when he gets credit for passing on the ruling:

Rava said to Rav Ḥisda: We teach in your name that the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yehuda. He said to him: May it be God’s will that you teach in my name all outstanding matters like this!

Yet, we then get stories of rabbis who agree with this lenient halakhah, but are acting as if they are more machmir (strict): Rav Neḥemya, son of Rav Yosef, said: I was once standing before Rava, and he was running a knife over the rim of a basket on a Festival. And I said to him: Is the Master doing so in order to sharpen it or in order to remove its fat? And he said to me: To remove its fat. And I nevertheless perceived his intention, that he did so in order to sharpen it. He concealed this from me, however, because he holds that Rabbi Yehuda’s opinion is the halakha but a public ruling is not issued to that effect; therefore he did not wish to permit the practice explicitly. Similarly, Abaye said: I was standing before my Master and teacher, Rabba, and he was running a knife over the edge of a millstone on a Festival. And I said to him: Does the Master wish to sharpen it, or is he doing this in order to remove its fat? And he said to me: To remove its fat. And I perceived his intention, that he did so in order to sharpen it, but he holds: This is the halakha, but a public ruling is not issued to that effect.

So, the law if that it’s allowed, but a public ruling hadn’t been made to that effect and so these teachers did not want to openly sharpen their knives . . .

Makes me wonder about what else we are allowed to do, but we don’t do because we don’t want to ruffle feathers . . . or don’t do because it is within the lines but may cause others to go beyond the lines . . .

It also makes me wonder: How do you sharpen a knife on the side of a bowl? Or on wood? I struggle using the knife sharpener. . .

But mostly I love how proud Rav Hisda gets for being quoted as quoting Rabbi Yehuda – may we all get such joy for citing our sources.

Today’s daf (which has a great moment where a rabbi questions if a person purposefully injured and animal so that they could eat it on the festival – a no no) has a fabulous line in it that deserves to be the gem of the day:

Rav Yosef said: Come and hear, as this matter hangs on great trees.

How beautiful! These “great trees” are the various great rabbinic sages. Who determined this law? Only the finest minds. It reminds us to check our sources and if someone much more informed than us gives a differing opinion or ruling than what we thought correct – we should pause and learn more.

You may now be curious about which “trees” evoked this statement, the Gemara continues:

As Rabbi Shimon ben Pazi said that Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said that Rabbi Yosei ben Shaul said that Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said in the name of the holy community in Jerusalem: Rabbi Shimon ben Menasya and his colleagues said that the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Meir.

That is quite an extensive list of experts! Great trees indeed. If you don’t agree, you are likely wrong . . .

I can’t help but apply this to now – I think of those who deny climate change for one – check your trees! (In every way of reading that.) Every expert disagrees with you? Who is right? Surely, it’s them.

A lot of conversation, both in tractate Shabbat, and in Beitzah, has had to do with the concept of mukze – things that you cannot touch/carry/use/etc on Shabbat or the Festival. Today’s daf gets into a conversation about the possibility of something changing its status to and from being mukze during the day of the festival. In particular, we wonder about a first born calf that fell into a cistern so it might have transitioned from being not allowed to be slaughtered on the festival to being allowed to be slaughtered – and food that might have transitioned from edible to inedible back to edible (like beans, raisins from shriveled grapes, etc).

Within all this is my gem which teaches us to be precise in our words and teachings as we read that one of our sages wasn’t:

The Gemara answers: This does not pose a problem to our reasoning, as that baraita was taught by Adda bar Ukhmei, who would often confuse the opinions in the text and teach an inaccurate version of the dispute; therefore, his version is unreliable.

Seems Adda bar Ukhmei was not good at citing his sources and reteaching ideas accurately. So, we see his teaching dismissed as likely inaccurate and therefore, dismissible.

It’s hard to be good at those things when it comes to Talmud, but our rabbis are painfully precise and always cite their sources (sometimes taking half a daf to argue about what words should really be attributed to who).

I wish all our news sources would work this hard to keep things accurate and precise. i can think of a few sources that I personally discount because they, like Adda bar Ukhmei, are unreliable (or maybe they’re worse in that they seem to sometimes be purposefully misleading) . . .

Two gems! One, a brief piece of ettiquett, the other, a different take on why God gave the Torah to the Jews:

The Sages teach proper manners unconnected to any prohibition, as it is taught in a baraita: A person should not eat garlic or onions from the side of its head, i.e., its roots, but rather from the side of its leaves. And if he did eat in that manner, he gives the appearance of being a glutton. Similarly, a person should not drink his cup of wine all at once, and if he did drink in this manner, he gives the appearance of being a drinker. The Sages taught in this regard: One who drinks his cup all at once is a drinker; if he does so in two swallows, this is proper etiquette; in three swallows, he is of haughty spirit, as he presents himself as overly delicate and refined.

Hahahaha – I love this. Yes, if you’re drinking your alcohol in one gulp (shots anyone?) then you look like you have a drinking problem. I love the “haughty” person on the other extreme who is slowly and pretentiously sipping their drink. The rabbis say we should drink our drinks in two swallows. I am sure they are not imagining drinks as big as we are served today, but I love that they are concerned with etiquette.

Our second gem: It is taught in a baraita in the name of Rabbi Meir: For what reason was the Torah given to the Jewish people? It is because they are stubborn. A Sage of the school of Rabbi Yishmael taught the following with regard to the verse: “From His right hand went a fiery law for them” (Deuteronomy 33:2); The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: Based on their nature and character, these people, the Jews, are fit to be given a fiery law, a hard and scorching faith. Some say a different version of this baraita: The ways and nature of these people, the Jews, are like fire, as, were it not for the fact that the Torah was given to the Jewish people, whose study and observance restrains them, no nation or tongue could withstand them.

And this is the same as what Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said: There are three stubborn ones: The Jewish people among the nations; the dog among animals; and the rooster among birds. And some say: Also the goat among small cattle. And some say: Also the caper bush among trees.

So, why did we need Torah? Not because we accepted it on faith before reading it, not because we didn’t ask what was in it, not because we are the most precious of God’s children – because we’re stubborn and impudent and, in a word, need it.

Shabbat Shalom, remember that you need this day of rest, and if you enjoy wine on this holy day, think of the Talmud as you sip.

Oh todays gem! Yosef asks a question I ask all the time reading the daf – why do I have to know all these ins and outs of the arguments when we all know the answer?! I love the question and the answer if also fabulous:

Yosef said to him: And what difference is there to you whether or not the Rabbis disagree? In either case the halakha is in accordance with the opinion of Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel. Why then does it matter whether or not the issue was in dispute? Abaye said to him: Either we learn the lesson; or let it be like a song. In other words, is it sufficient to simply parrot the halakhic ruling? Rather, it is necessary to examine the issue to understand it even if it does not yield a practical halakhic difference.

LOVE THIS! And there are layers to my love:

1. I remember my childhood rabbi once commenting that he could teach a parrot to recite lines of Torah accurately, but that he wants his students to read Torah accurately. Parroting things back does not mean you understand what you’re saying – and the understanding is so important. This is crucial when we talk about school. How many little facts did we all cram into our heads only to forget a few weeks or months after the test? The thing is to teach you how to think, reason, research.
2. I love the play on the idea that, if we don’t understand a halakhic ruling, it’s merely a song. Many people do not know that we Jews sing our holy texts. Torah has one cantillation system (a system of musical notes that go with each word of Torah), Haftarah another, the megillot (scrolls such as Esther, Song of Songs, the Book of Ruth, the Book of Lamentations, and Ecclesiastes) have their own, and so does TALMUD! That’s right, we sing the Talmud. Music helps us to memorize, but if we don’t understand what we are singing, it’s merely a song.
3. I also love this because we sing our prayers, and people will often love a prayer because they love a particular musical composition (me included) – but this reminds us to not let it be simply a song. Pay attention to the words you’re saying. If you don’t understand Hebrew, read the English. You will be surprised what prayers pop out to you and have meaning for you today that didn’t last week.

Shabbat Shalom.

The gem on today’s page harkens back to Shabbat 54b and reminds us that, if we have the ability to correct another’s behavior and fail to do so, we bear responsibility for the misdeeds we could have prevented.

And from what do we learn this valuable lesson? From a cow.

MISHNA: There are three things that Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya permits and the Rabbis prohibit: His cow would go out on Shabbat with a decorative strap between its horns. . .

Is that to say that Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya had only one cow? But didn’t Rav say, and some say that Rav Yehuda said that Rav said: Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya would tithe from his herds thirteen thousand calves each and every year, which means that he had ten times that number of calves alone. Why, then, does the mishna speak of his cow? The Gemara answers that it is taught in the Tosefta: This cow was not his; rather, it was his neighbor’s. And because he did not rebuke her behavior and tell her that it is prohibited to let the cow wear this ornamental strap on Shabbat (or festivals) the cow was called by his name to his discredit, as if it were his.

Rebuking, in a non-embarrassing way, is a mitzvah in Judaism. We see from today’s daf, that if we fail to rebuke, we bear the burden of the misdeed. So, if we properly rebuke others, we can avoid all sorts of trouble – including having cow’s that we don’t own called by our names.

(I can’t help but think of politicians who fail to rebuke their followers when they break the law and then try to have it both ways – where those rule breakers feel supported but they try and take none of the blame. Shame on them.)