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

What a fabulous daf we have today. It answers big questions including: How to train your child so they grow up to be good adults, can you kill someone else if your life depends on it, and what if a pregnant woman craves bacon?

A Mishnah teaches: MISHNA: With regard to the children, one does not afflict them by withholding food on Yom Kippur; however, one trains them one year before or two years before they reach majority, by means of a partial fast lasting several hours, so that they will be accustomed to fulfill mitzvot.

The Gemara explains: Rav Huna said: One trains a healthy child of eight years and nine years to fast for several hours; at ten years and eleven years, they complete the fast by rabbinic law; at twelve years they complete the fast by Torah law. This applies to girls who reach maturity and become obligated in mitzvot at age twelve. And Rav Naḥman said: At nine years and ten years one trains them to fast for several hours; at eleven and twelve years they complete the fast by rabbinic law; at thirteen years they complete the fast by Torah law. This applies to boys. And Rabbi Yoḥanan said: There is no obligation with regard to children completing the fast by rabbinic law. Rather, at ten and eleven years, one trains them to fast for several hours; and at twelve years girls are obligated to complete their fast by Torah law.

The lesson? (Despite my son growing two inches in a month) We don’t grow up overnight. There is a teaching method where you show a student what to do, do it with the student, and then have the student do it on their own. So too it is in life. Think about the kind of adult you want your child to be and do your best to model it until they are old enough to do it with you, and then let them try it on their own.

Now to the question of if you can kill an innocent person to save your life . . . .

A certain person came before Rava. He said to Rava: The master of the village where I live said to me: Kill so-and-so, and if you do not do so, I will kill you. What should I do? Rava said to him: Let yourself be killed, and you should not kill. Rava reasoned: What did you see to make you think that your blood is redder and more important than his? Perhaps the blood of that man is redder, and he is more important than you.

From this story we learn the halakha that one should be killed rather than transgress the prohibition against murder of an innocent person. There is much more on this topic – but in general, the horror movie scenario is that you don’t kill someone to save yourself (very different if the person you have to kill IS the person who would kill you otherwise).

The line”Why do you think your blood is redder than his? Perhaps his blood is redder.” is a classic used in all kinds of legal and ethical cases.

And finally, can a pregnant woman who craves bacon eat bacon? GEMARA: The Sages taught in a baraita: With regard to a pregnant woman who smelled consecrated meat or pig meat and craved those specific foods, one inserts a thin reed into the juice of that item and places it on her mouth. If her mind become settled with that, it is well. And if not, one feeds her the gravy itself of that forbidden food. If her mind becomes settled with that, it is well. And if not, one feeds her the fat of the forbidden food itself, as there is no halakha that stands in the way of saving a life except for the prohibitions against idol worship, and forbidden sexual relationships, and bloodshed.

So ladies – if your pregnant, enjoy indulging your cravings . . . for food.

Today’s daf comes out swinging – or should I say, vomiting?

Rav Sheizvi said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: In the case of a non-priest who swallowed plums of teruma whole and vomited them out, whereupon another person ate them – the first one pays the principal plus a fifth, the second pays only the price of wood to the first.

What!?

The commentators fixate on why the second person only pays the price of wood (turns out it’s because the quality of the teruma after being regurgitated is only fit for burning as fuel) and pay no attention to the pretty clear picture of one person eating another person’s vomit. Ugh, I really wish I could ask them to discuss this aspect further.

Their point is that, if one were to eat Terumah abnormally, like eating it and throwing it back up, then he has to pay for damage to the grain, but not for eating it. But if another person comes along and eats this – you can’t punish them on the same level as if it’s food, because it’s (gross, I mean) only fit for burning.

This all reminds me of a story my husband husband tells of being sick (as a kid) in the middle of the night and throwing up by his bed. He went to get his parents to tell them that he threw up and they all come back into the room to clean up the mess, only to find that the mess is gone . . . the dog ate it.

Lesson? Don’t eat other people’s vomit? Don’t pretend your throw aways are worth what you paid for them? Don’t leave puke unattended? I am not sure, but I really would love to ask the rabbis of the Talmud why they don’t spend more time on this crazy seeming scene – does it mean this happened frequently?

Just as the daf began well, it ends fabulously as well. A bit of a lesson for leaders on being clear with expectations:

The Gemara relates: Rav Giddel bar Menashe from the town of Birei DeNeresh taught in a public lecture that the halakha is not in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, and vinegar is not considered a beverage. The next year everyone went out and mixed vinegar with water and drank vinegar on Yom Kippur. Rav Giddel heard this and became angry with them for their actions. He said: Say that I said one is not liable for drinking vinegar only after the fact; however, did I say it is permitted to drink it ab initio? Furthermore: Say that I said my statement with regard to one who drinks a little, but did I say it is permitted to drink a lot? Furthermore: Say that I said my statement in reference to pure vinegar, which is very strong, but did I say anything about diluted vinegar? That is certainly prohibited.

Here’s to drinks with no vinegar and fresh food.

When we learned that the Johnson and Johnson vaccine had negative effects that only affects a small percentage of childbearing aged women, and that it hadn’t shown up in testing, I wasn’t that surprised. Medicine has a long history of basing its recommendations off of studies done on men – and women have different chemistries, body sizes and weights. (Ever wonder: Why is it that my two boys who are about 10 pounds different in weight have different recommended doses of tylenol, however a 110 lb woman and a 350 lb man both take the same?)

Today’s daf discusses how each of us finds satisfaction in our food and drink in different measure:

Abaye said to him: The Sages have an accepted tradition with regard to the volume of the large date, that eating this amount settles his mind, but less than this amount does not settle his mind. However, with regard to drinking, his mind is settled with the amount of his own cheekful, but his mind is not settled with the cheekful of his fellow who is smaller than him. Rabbi Zeira strongly objects to this for a different reason: Is everyone of average size satisfied with eating the volume of a large date, and even Og, king of Bashan, (who was a giant) is also satisfied with the volume of a large date? If not, there should also be relative measures for eating. Abaye said to him: The Sages have an accepted tradition that this amount settles his mind, but less than this amount does not settle his mind. However, everyone of average size has his mind greatly settled, whereas Og, king of Bashan, has his mind only a little settled. But even so, this measure settles the mind of any person and relieves his affliction.

What is satisfying to some is not to others. Some need more and others need less. (This page also had me thinking about eating disorders as it also talks about people for whom eating is an affliction and fasting is easy, but it looks like we might get to that in more depth on 83.)

The lesson? Read the fine print on your medicine. I did and it turns out that the Tylenol recommendations assume you weigh “at least 150 lbs.”

This Friday is my husband’s 40th birthday. So, I am really thinking about how to best celebrate the day in a way that is fun for him, includes his friends, and his family in some capacity. one aspect of the planning is a special dinner. So, perhaps that’s why I liked the discussion of what constitutes a casual meal versus a fixed meal (since I am planning a fancy meal). It all comes amidst a discussion about how you’re liable for eating more than a pitted date bulk of food on Yom Kippur. The rabbis are looking to Sukkot and asking about the minimum amount of food you can eat outside a sukkah (and comparing that to the pitted date bulk on Yom Kippur). . .

Rava said: There, this is the reasoning that the halakha permits eating the dates outside of the sukka, due to the fact that dates are fruit, and fruit need not be eaten in a sukka, meaning it can be eaten either inside or outside of a sukka. The Gemara raises an objection. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi said: When we would learn Torah with Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua, they brought before us figs and grapes, and we ate them as a casual meal outside of the sukka. The Gemara analyzes this: This implies that in the case of a casual meal, yes, it may be eaten outside of a sukka; but a fixed meal may not be eaten outside of a sukka. Therefore, a meal consisting of fruit must be eaten in a sukka. The Gemara rejects this: That is the wrong inference. Instead, say we ate them as if they were a casual meal, which may be eaten outside of the sukka, meaning that eating fruit is always considered a snack.

If you wish, say instead that it can be understood in this way: We ate that fruit as a fixed meal, and we ate bread as a casual meal with the fruit, to temper their sweetness, outside of the sukka.

When does a snack turn into a meal? What disservice do we do when we call a snack a meal and don’t fully nourish ourselves? What makes a meal special for someone celebrating a special day?

Eat up and eat in good health.

Ever insult someone without even knowing it? Today’s gem comes amidst a discussion on wearing shoes on Shabbat where a side story is told or one friend trying to cover for another when he accidentally insults a powerful man:

The Exilarch came to deliver a lecture in Rav Natan’s study hall in Hagronya. Rafram and all the Sages came to the lecture, but Ravina did not come.

Oh no! The last thing you want to do is upset the Exilarch. Does Ravina mean to insult this exalted person? Does it matter if he meant to insult the Exilarch if the Exilarch feels insulted either way?

The next day, when he came, Rafram wanted to remove any anger towards Ravina from the mind of the Exilarch, for missing the lecture.

Seems Rafram knows Ravina meant no insult, and so he has a plan to help his colleague:

Rafram therefore asked Ravina: What is the reason that the Master did not come to the lecture? (Notice that he says “the lecture” and not “the Exilarch’s lecture.)

He said to him: My foot hurt.

Rafram said to Ravina : You should have put shoes on.

Ravina answered him: It was the back of the foot that hurt, so wearing shoes would have been hard for me – it would have rubbed!

Rafram said to Ravina: You should have worn sandals.

He said to him: There was a pool of water on the way that I would have had to cross.

He said to him: You should have crossed it wearing the sandals.

He said to him: Does the Master not hold with that which Rav Ashi said: One should not wear sandals when crossing a river on Shabbat, ab initio?

Ah, what a good friend! I love how Rafram protects Ravina from his accidental slight. We should all have friends like these! The page talks about what counts as shows and what does not as we don’t wear the traditional leather shoe on Yom Kippur. But this is a whole lesson about putting yourself in the shoes of your friends. Had the shoe been on the other foot, Rafram would have wanted Ravina to defend him.

May we all have such friends.

As a teen, I loved to take baths. My mom used to joke that I was the cleanest teenager on earth because I would spend hours in the tub replenishing hot water as the tub cooled. The rabbis, too, see bathing as a luxury that can be more about our own enjoyment than sanitation. Bathing is one of the prohibited activities during Yom Kippur. Our daf questions when we are allowed to bath, or get wet at all. (It spends quite some time discussing the question of – can we get wet crossing a river to great a teacher, even though we clean ourselves in the process?) My gem comes when they discuss how we need to wash our hands when handling food that we are serving to those exempt from the fast:

The school of Menashe taught that Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel says: A woman may rinse one hand in water, so that she does not touch food before she has washed her hands in the morning, and give bread to her child, and she need not be concerned about violating the prohibition of bathing on Yom Kippur.

Here, we see that mom can wash ONE HAND and use that hand to feed her child. So, we clearly want to only wash what we need to wash. Now it gets interesting:

They said about Shammai the Elder that he did not want to feed his children with one hand, to avoid having to wash it. This prevented the children from eating during all of Yom Kippur. Due to concerns about the health and the suffering of his children, they decreed that he must feed them with two hands, forcing him to wash both hands.

Love this. I love the lesson. On the face of it, it seems Shammai the Elder was aspiring to be so pious that he overlooked the needs of his children. But the physical needs of his children are a higher priority than any individuals need for piety. The rabbis punish him by making him wash both hands!

This reminds me of a story Rabbi DovBer of Lubavitch shared in 1962. He said that when he was a young man and living with his father, Rabbi Schneur Zalman there was a night when he was so engrossed in his studies that he did not hear his baby boy crying. His father went and took care of the crying child and admonished his son saying: “No matter how lofty your involvements, you must never fail to hear the cry of a child.”

There is nothing more holy or sacred than raising the next generation. It can be tough, but when we sacrifice for them, we are reaching even higher levels of spirituality.

Today’s daf continues a discussion of prohibited actions on Yom Kippur. In its discussion of refraining from drink, we get a gem of a discussion about drinking alcohol that uses words that sound (and are spelled) similar:

The Gemara asks: And if so, why does the Bible call it wine and why does it call it tirosh? The Gemara explains: “Wine” suggests that it brings lament to the world because drunkenness causes most sins. There is a phonetic resemblance between the yayin, wine, and ta’aniya va’aniya, sorrow and howling, which Rashi (on Job 2:5) explains as lament. How awesome that this is the same in English? Where wine may lead you to whine?

“Tirosh” shows that those who indulge in it become poor [rash].

Rav Kahana raised a contradiction: It is written as tirash but we read it tirosh. This should be understood as follows: If one merits and drinks appropriately, he is made a head [rosh]; if one does not merit and does not drink appropriately, he is made poor [rash]. The Gemara comments: This is the same as what Rava said, as Rava raised a contradiction: It is written: “And wine that makes glad [yishamaḥ] the heart of man” (Psalms 104:15) with a shin, but we read it yisamaḥ with a sin. This teaches: If one merits, wine makes him happy [same’aḥ]; if one does not merit, it makes him confounded [shamem]. This is the same as what Rava said: Wine and good scents make me wise, meaning that wine benefits one who deserves it.

A little wine now and then can be relaxing, even healthy. But a lot of wine frequently is no good for anyone. Here the rabbis use funny Hebrew puns to teach what many of us have either experienced ourselves or have seen in others: That some who drink wine are prone to complain. That some who indulge in wine end up in poverty. That wine has the capacity to make someone feel joy and the capacity to make us confused and, well, a mess.

We do have to question why the text says this is based on merit . . . it seems to me it is more based on quantity and frequency than merit. But perhaps we should know that if wine puts us in a bad space, we should not partake, even if it’s not Yom Kippur when all abstain.

“DNA reveals – you are the father.”

The manna in the desert was miraculous. Even just reading the plain Torah text – having enough food to sustain you magically rain down every day – that’s pretty fantastic! Add to it that it tasted like whatever we craved to eat and it sounds like the best thing ever.

Well, today it gets even better as manna is used to resolve disputes and, yes, determine the paternity of babies.

Others say: It was called coriander [gad] because it is similar to a tale [haggada], which draws a person’s heart toward it, just like water, which is essential for life, draws one. It was taught in another baraita: Why is it called gad? Because it told [maggid] the Jewish people

But what is this tale we want told? Paternity. See, according to Jewish law, a woman has to wait 2 months after divorcing or burying her first husband and marrying her second. The Gemara explains:

The manna would tell them if the baby was born after nine months and belongs to the first husband, or if the baby was born after seven months and belongs to the second husband. Since the manna was collected by each family based on the number of its biological members, the manna established the baby’s paternity.

So, this miraculous manna was like a paternity test! Move over Jerry Springer – here’s something better! You have got to love the daf. But it doesn’t stop there:

If two people came before Moses for a judgment, one saying: You stole my slave, and the other one saying: I did not steal him, rather you sold him to me, Moses would say to them: In the morning there will be a judgment. How was the matter resolved? If on the following day the slave found his omer of manna in his first master’s house, it would be clear that he was stolen, because the manna still came to the first owner. And if on the following day he found his omer of manna in his second master’s house, it would be clear that he had been sold.

Similarly, if a man and a woman came to Moses for a judgment, he saying: She sinned against me, and therefore I may divorce her and am not obligated to pay her divorce settlement, and she saying: He sinned against me and therefore I am entitled to the full settlement from the marriage contract, Moses would say to them: In the morning there will be a judgment. The following day, if her omer of manna was found in her husband’s house, it would be clear that she sinned against him. The fact that her nourishment was given to his household signifies the fact that he has respected her appropriately and is worthy of nourishing her. If her omer of manna was found in her father’s house, it would be clear that he sinned against her. Her nourishment has not been given to his household, signifying that he has been disrespectful to her and is not worthy of nourishing her.

So it resolved property disputes (remember, the slaves were more like indentured servants, but still) and marital disputes.

What is the lesson? Some things are really hard to determine, and it would be wonderful for heaven to send us signs so we know the truth. However, we don’t usually have that kind of certainty in life so we just do the best we can. Knowing things with 100% certainty can feel miraculous. I truly admire judges who help us and have to work with just what is presented to them, and not manna spelling out the answer.

My real gem? The Talmud can be SO entertaining. It takes something hard to believe (that manna fell from heaven) and makes it even more unfathomable. I absolutely love it.

Oh, and it gets better, because we learn that when our people ate manna – they never had to poop:

When these words were said before Rabbi Yishmael, he said to them: Do not read it as abirim. Rather, read it as eivarim, limbs. The manna was something that was absorbed by 248 limbs.

We do not live in a world of certainty or lack of bowel movements. May God bless you in your discharges – be they rulings or bodily.

Loved today’s page as the rabbis parse out the meaning of “you shall afflict yourself” on Yom Kippur by going through all the various kinds of afflictions we experienced in the Torah.

One such examples leads to today’s gem:

The Torah states: “Who feeds you manna in the desert which your fathers did not know, in order to afflict you” (Deuteronomy 8:16). The Gemra rightly wonders – what? God “afflicted” us with life saving manna? What affliction was there in eating the manna? Rabbi Ami and Rabbi Asi disagreed on the matter. One said: There is no comparison between one who has bread in his basket and one who does not have bread in his basket. The affliction in eating the manna lay in there being no leftover food for the next day. Each day the people worried that they might not have any food to eat the next day. This is our lesson about the dangers of food insecurity. (Go feed the hungry!)

And one said: There is no comparison between one who sees the food and eats it and one who does not see the food and eats it. Though the manna could taste like anything, it always looked the same! It looked unappetising, so it was an affliction.

Now we get to an eye-popping interpretation:

Rav Yosef said: From here there is an allusion to the idea that blind people eat but are not fully satisfied. Meaning, seeing the food contributes to the enjoyment of eating. Ask any chef about “plating” and they will tell you the same.

Rabbi Zeira said: What is the verse that alludes to this? “Better is the seeing of the eyes than the wandering of the desire” (Ecclesiastes 6:9).

Now the juicy gem: On the same verse, Reish Lakish said: The sight of a woman is better than the actual act of relations, as it is stated: “Better is the seeing of the eyes than the wandering of the desire.”

Love this!

In a discussion of the word “affliction”, we get an unexpected lesson from that reformed vagaband Reish Lakish, who certainly had his fill of women prior to becoming a great rabbinic sage. Often, what we “see,” what we desire, what we desperately want, what we think will satisfy us – doesn’t. Often the fantasy is better than the reality.

Think about affairs.

The fantasy is of passion and of satisfying desires. In the fantasy, it’s just the couple stealing away time together – there is not responsibility. However, the reality of an affair is that, eventually, you still have to pay your taxes, go to the grocery store, and do your everyday errands. The reality might be hurting other people while you sow your oats. The reality is often a mess – that ends up in my office (the rabbi’s office) or that of a counselor, or, often, lawyer.

Kohelet was written by King Solomon who had, according to biblical account, 700 wives and 300 concubines. It’s an account of how he was not satisfied by this. “Better is the seeing of the eyes than the wandering of the desire.” Reish Lakish reads this verse about a man who truly had it all and, nevertheless, still had longing and wondered what the meaning of life was.

I think Reish Lakish could relate. He too had been a very successful leader of a group of marauders. He has enough money, sex, and power – but he gave it all up for a life of learning, Torah, and friendship with the man he disagrees with on the daf – Rabbi Yohanan. Reish Lakish knows that you can keep satisfying your every desire – but it’s never as good in reality as it is in your head – and eventually, you want something that is more than bodily nourishing – you want soul nourishing.

I remember sitting in the darkened basement of my best friend Tova and asking the Ouija board questions about us, our families, and our future. We were so young (likely just 7 as she moved away after second grade) but still we didn’t really believe what we were doing was telling us the future . . . well, there was always a piece of me (and I am sure her too) that thought: maybe this is real.

When I first read about the Urim and Thummim in the Torah, I thought: It’s a Jewish Magic 8 Ball! But after studying the daf which deals largely with just how these mysterious fortune tellers worked, I am thinking: Jewish Ouija Board!

First we learn to set up properly:

The Sages taught: How does one consult the Urim VeTummim? The one asking stands with his face toward the one who is asked, i.e., the High Priest or the priest anointed for war. And the one who is asked, the High Priest, turns his face toward the Divine Presence, i.e., the Urim VeTummim, in which the explicit name of God is found, by tilting his head downward toward it.

The one who asks says his question, e.g.: “Shall I pursue after this troop?” (I Samuel 30:8). And the one who is asked answers him according to the response he receives and says, for example: Thus says God: Go up and succeed. Rabbi Yehuda says: He need not say the words: Thus says God; rather, it is sufficient to relay the content of the response and say: Go up and succeed, since he is obviously only repeating what he was told.

So, the questioner faces the Priest and asks the question. But how do you ask the question?

One does not ask in a loud voice, . . . And he should not think his question in his heart . . . Rather, how shall he inquire? He should do so akin to the way that Hannah spoke in her prayer, as it is stated: “Now Hannah spoke in her heart; only her lips moved, but her voice could not be heard” (I Samuel 1:13).

One does not ask about two matters simultaneously. . .

Okay, so ask one question at a time, facing the Priest in your davening voice. But we still need to know, how does it work? How does the Priest get the answer from God through these tools?

How is it done? How does the Urim VeTummim provide an answer? The names of the twelve tribes were engraved upon the stones of the breastplate. These letters allowed for the answer to be received. Rabbi Yoḥanan says: The letters of the answer protrude, and the priest then combines those letters to form words in order to ascertain the message. Reish Lakish says: The letters rearrange themselves and join together to form words.

It’s just like a Ouija board! Spelling out the answer one letter at a time, however we have a problem, there are two Hebrew letters that are not found in the names of the tribes. Don’t worry, the Gemara has a solution:

But the letter tzadi is not written within the names of the twelve tribes engraved on the breastplate’s stones. Rav Shmuel bar Yitzḥak said: The names Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were also written there. The name Yitzḥak, Isaac, contains the letter tzadi. The Gemara asks again: But surely the letter tet was not written on the breastplate, since it is not found in the names of the Patriarchs nor in the names of the twelve tribes. Rav Aḥa bar Ya’akov said: Shivtei Yeshurun, the tribes of Jeshurun, was also written there. The word shivtei, tribes, contains the letter tet. In this way the entire alphabet was represented.

So, that’s it! Our ancestors used the Urim and Thummim much like kids like me used a Ouija board – only it was not your best friend pulling the planchette (that triangular pointer) around the board – it’s God, and apparently it was 100% accurate. But, for it to work, we need to make sure that it’s only being used by the right person:

The Gemara raises an objection from a baraita: Any priest who does not speak with Divine Spirit and upon whom the Divine Presence does not rest is not consulted to inquire of the Urim VeTummim. As Zadok inquired of the Urim VeTummim and it was effective for him, and he received an answer; but Ebiathar inquired and it was not effective for him, and he did not receive an answer. As it is stated: “But Ebiathar went up until all the people had finished” (II Samuel 15:24), which is taken to mean that he was removed from the High Priesthood since the Divine Spirit had departed from him.

Another difference? They were not asking self-centered questions, the questions were always only about the welfare of the community. And the High Priest may be consulted for the decision of the Urim VeTummim only on behalf of the king, or on behalf of the president of the court, or on behalf of one whom the community needs.

The lesson? The Urim and Thummim may seem similar to the Ouija board. But a lot of religion can seem oddly similar to magic, but it’s not, religion pushes us to be better, less self-centered, to put our faith in something bigger than ourselves. Whereas magic allows us a way to be self-centered, to think, even the dead’s lives revolve around us and our wishes. It allows us to think we can manipulate the present and the future. A big difference between magic and religion is who does it (someone who is like the High Priest – who has dedicated their lives to God and the community, who is not in it for themselves but just serves as a vessel to a higher power) and what they are doing it for (magic is usually for personal reasons whereas religion is for the community).

The message? If you want answers, try to get out of your own head, consult someone who is a good person, not a magical one, and think about more than yourself. . . also, don’t believe a board processed in a toy factory that is being gently pulled by a 7 year old . . . just a thought.