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

Don’t let life pass you by . . .

Today’s gem comes amidst a discussion of the order of which corners the Priest splatters the blood of the bull and goat sacrifices. (Am I the only one who pictures Jackson Pollock style blood all over the beautiful gold ritual items and curtains?)

We learn that Rabbi Akiva. says we start in the from the southeast corner of the altar, while Rabbi Yosei HaGelili says: He began from the northeast corner. The Gemara asks our question: Why must he begin specifically at the southeast corner?

The Gemara answers with our gem: Rabbi Akiva could have said to you: Indeed, by right he should begin sprinkling by that corner of the altar that he reaches first, as Reish Lakish said: One does not pass on an opportunity to perform mitzvot.

One does not pass on an opportunity to perform mitzvot.

What a phenomenal lesson for us. Don’t wait, don’t let that opportunity to do good pass you by. Don’t wait for the situation to be perfect, or for you to be perfect. Don’t pass it up, or you may miss your chance all together.

A daf with love and intrigue!

The love started yesterday when it taught at the botteom of 56b: The last part of the verse: “That dwells with them in the midst of their impurity,” teaches that even when the Jewish people are impure, the Divine Presence is with them.

Today the story continues: A certain Sadducee said to Rabbi Ḥanina: Now you are certainly impure, as it is written about the Jewish people: “Her impurity was in her skirts” (Lamentations 1:9), and the Divine Presence does not dwell upon the Jews when they are impure. Rabbi Ḥanina said to him: Come and see what is written about the Jewish people: “That dwells with them in the midst of their impurity” (Leviticus 16:16). This indicates that even when they are impure, the Divine Presence dwells among them.

Love this as it teaches that, no matter what we do, God is with us. Would that each of us felt that way – no matter how “impure” we may be, God is still with us.

Now to the intrigue, remember that missing Ark of the Covenant? It’s not all that was missing. When discussing the blood platters of the bull and goat sacrifices on Yom Kippur, the rabbis debate if they platter the blood on the curtain or not. Proof that you do comes from a very interesting place:

A Sage taught: When the High Priest sprinkles the blood, he does not actually sprinkle on the curtain but opposite the curtain. Rabbi Elazar, son of Rabbi Yosei, said: I saw the curtain in Rome. And on the curtain were several drops of blood from the bull and the goat of Yom Kippur.

He what?! How was it that he saw the looted sanctuary goods in Rome? To get the back story, we need to turn to Meilah 17b: As they (Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Shimon) were journeying, a demon named ben Temalyon emerged to greet them. He said to them: Do you wish that I will join you and come with you in order to help nullify this decree against the Jewish people? When Rabbi Shimon saw that a demon was coming to help save the Jewish people, Rabbi Shimon cried and said: What, for a maidservant of my father’s home an angel was made available to her three times! (Here is is referring to the three appearances of an angel for Hagar, Abraham’s handmaid.) But for me, not one time! He is lamenting that he only receives help from a demon. In any case, let the miracle come (even if through a demon). The demon ben Temalyon went before them and ascended into the emperor’s daughter and possessed her. When Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai arrived there, the emperor’s palace, he said: Ben Temalyon, emerge! Ben Temalyon, emerge! And once Rabbi Shimon called to him, ben Temalyon emerged and left the emperor’s daughter, and she was cured. When the emperor saw that Rabbi Shimon had cured his daughter, he said to them: Ask from me any reward that you want to ask. And he took them up to his treasury to take whatever they wanted. (This is when they see the stolen goods, including the curtain!) They found that letter that contained the decrees against the Jewish people, and they took it and tore it up, and thereby nullified the decrees and saved the people.

What a story! Demons, evil decrees, hard choices. . . it teaches some valuable lessons in terms of what are we willing to do and to sacrifice for justice? Who can we partner with? And a great lesson in prioritizing people and life over ritual items – no matter how holy. He could have taken the curtain, but instead, he destroyed the evil decree against his people. May we never have such hard choices, but if we do, may we too prioritize life.

Today there are a few lovely pieces, but the gem is a lesson on integrity:

The Sages taught: “And he shall make atonement for the sacred place because of the impurities of the children of Israel, and because of their transgressions, even all their sins; and so shall he do for the Tent of Meeting that dwells with them in the midst of their impurity” (Leviticus 16:16). What is the meaning when the verse states this? Just as he sprinkles in the innermost sanctum, the Holy of Holies, so he sprinkles in the Sanctuary, the Tent of Meeting, toward the curtain.

A short lesson teaching that we should be the same, and act the same, whether we are alone or if others are watching.

And 5,6,7,8 . . .

1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 2 and 2 and 3 and 4 . . .

When counting music one usually counts to 8, 4, or 3. Counting bars, or reps when you’re working out, or moves when you’re dancing involves repeating a small count again and again. Couldn’t help but think of that when read’ng today’s daf:

The Sages taught in a baraita that when sprinkling, the High Priest counted: One; one and one; one and two; one and three; one and four; one and five; one and six; one and seven. This is the statement of Rabbi Meir. Rabbi Yehuda says that he counted: One; one and one; two and one; three and one; four and one; five and one; six and one; seven and one.

Apparently, how we count also affects how good we are at math. In Malcolm Gladwell’s book “Outliers” he discusses how the shortness of the names of numbers in Chineses, Japanese, and Korean and the way they count (for us we say ten, eleven, for them it’s ten, ten-one) makes math easier to remember and process.

Our Gemara is trying to make the way the priest counts as he flings the blood of sacrifice on the altar, as straight forward and non-confusing as possible.

But as I read it, it sounds like dance steps.

The daf debates if the ark of the covenant was buried or exiled. Both ideas have merit and support. Today, Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai, argues, “The Ark was buried in its place and not exiled, as it is stated: “And the staves were so long that the ends of the staves were seen from the sacred place before the partition, but they could not be seen without; and they are there to this day” (I Kings 8:8). However, Rav Naḥman said that a Sage taught in the Tosefta: And the Rabbis say that the Ark of the Covenant was buried in the Chamber of the Woodshed.

The support is a story to inspire Hollywood:

Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak said: We, too, have learned in a mishna: There was an incident involving a certain priest who was occupied with various matters, and he saw a floor tile in the woodshed that was different from the others. One of the marble floor tiles was higher than the rest, suggesting it had been lifted out and replaced. He came and informed his friend of the uneven tile, but was unable to finish his report and provide the exact location of the tile before his soul departed from his body. And consequently they knew definitively that the Ark was buried there, but its location was meant to be kept secret.

Bam! See that misplaced tile? Want to find out where it leads? Too bad! This is God’s secret – his soul departs before he can tell anyone else. There are alternative versions of what he was doing:

The Gemara asks: What was he doing, that priest who noticed the misplaced tile? Rabbi Ḥelbo said: He was occupied with his axe, i.e., he was banging the floor with his axe. He thereby discovered an empty space under a tile, which he guessed was the opening of a tunnel. The school of Rabbi Yishmael taught: Two blemished priests were sorting wormy wood when the axe of one of them dropped and fell there, into the hole in the floor. And fire burst out and consumed that priest, so the exact location remains unknown.

The imagery is fantastic – no wonder it inspired Raiders of the Lost Ark and other films.

It does invite us to ponder the dangers of finding what we are looking for. For those of us who believe in God (and I would argue, those who vehemently don’t) we often can relate to Moses who begs to just see a glimpse of God’s splendor (he sees God’s “acharia” from behind a rock – God’s back or what comes in God’s wake . . . ). We long to be close to God’s presence, and yet, when we are drawn close, we become fearful, we back away, we flee or bury the feeling. We are so close to God, always, but so far away. Perhaps what we are searching for is close to us, like the ground beneath our feet.

Such treasures on today’s page! We have the premise for Raiders of the Lost Ark as the rabbis disagree about if Josiah burried it or if the Babylonian’s exiled the ark; we have the choreography of the Amida (One who prays must take three steps backward upon concluding his prayer and then recite: Peace. And if he did not do so, it is better for him not to have prayed), and we have a phenomenal story, my gem for the day, a miracle done for Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa:

Rabbi Ḥanina ben Dosa was walking on the road when rain fell upon him. He said: Master of the Universe, the entire world is comfortable and Ḥanina is suffering. The rain stopped. When he came to his house he said: Master of the Universe, the entire world is suffering for lack of rain and Ḥanina is comfortable. The rain came back. Rav Yosef said: What effect does the prayer of the High Priest have with regard to Rabbi Ḥanina ben Dosa?

Love this aside. Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa is walking and it begins to pour down rain, he prays for it to stop and it does. When he gets home, it’s still sunny and he realizes the crops need rain so he prays for it to begin to rain again and it does. Can you imagine if all our prayers worked this way? There would never be rain for the crops as someone would always be walking without an umbrella. But what I love so much about it is that it is reminiscent of the teaching that the role of the prophet (preacher, rabbi, clergy-person) is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. When Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa is in the rain, he thinks of himself and wants an end to his (albeit transient) suffering. But when he is sitting in the comfort of his own house, he begins to think of the good of the community.

I think we are all a little this way.

When we are suffering, it’s hard to think of anything but ourselves. But when we are comfortable then we have capacity to think of others- and often, to help others, we need to sacrifice a little of that comfort.

I also love what Rav Yosef said: What effect does the prayer of the High Priest have with regard to Rabbi Ḥanina ben Dosa? This kind of dumbfoundedness. He expresses that this kind of miraculous prayer answering doesn’t even happen for the High Priest! I am also thinking of the God of baseball games – both sides are praying for their team and, therefor, for opposite outcomes! Maybe Rabbi Yosef is saying – what good are our prayers if there are righteous people out there who pray for something else? The rain is one example, we pray for rain in our daily services in the winter months – but here we see a righteous man praying for it to stop.

It’s one answer to if God answers prayers: yes, but maybe right now, God is answering someone else’s . . . and it’s a reminder that, when we are sitting in comfort, we should think of those who are not and pray (and act) for them.

Going straight to the source.

One of the things that I love about Judaism (as opposed to Catholicism, Hinduism and other faiths with saints, minor gods, or other intercessors) is that we go straight to the source. When we pray, we talk right to God. When we complain – we take it up with “the Management.” We go right to God. Today’s gem makes this point:

Rabbi Yosei said to you: The Jewish people are beloved by God, as the Torah did not require them to make use of an agent, e.g., an angel, to intercede on their behalf. Instead, God hears the nation’s prayers directly.

So, speak up, speak out, go to the source and so not rely on intercessors – your voice is all you need.

There is a middah (positive character trait) that is quoting one’s sources. It was important to site your sources, even before plagiarism rules. This often comes up in the daf, in that the rabbis debate whose opinions are attributed to whom. We get a piece of that today:

And some say he passed between the table and the wall. The Gemara asks: Whose opinion is introduced by the title: Some say? Rav Ḥisda said: It is the opinion of Rabbi Yosei in our mishna, according to whom there is only one curtain and who said that the entrance was positioned in the north . . .

Who is this “some say”?

As a rabbi, I will often get feedback that begins with “people think” or “lots of congregants are saying” and my question is always: who are these people? Which congregants? Often, the lots of is just the person standing in front of me, just like “some say” was simply Rabbi Yosei.

The gem? Quote your sources. And, if you are the source, don’t mask yourself in “we” talk, say what you think and stand by it.

The first time I saw a dead body, it was at an open casket ceremony for my middle school bus driver, Bob. I went to an inner-city magnet school and rode the bus 30 minutes into the city every morning. My bus stop was my neighborhood school, all of 3 houses and a field away (and this is Indiana, so when I say feild, I mean cornfield). So many mornings I would be eating breakfast and Bob would honk the horn and I would go sprinting to catch the bus. He would say he was preparing me for the Olympics. Bob was a nice guy with a high tolerance for bratty kids who didn’t get to the bus stop on time and always demanded he change the radio station when I/we didn’t like the song.

I was in 9th grade when I heard that he passed from cancer.

His was the first funeral I remember. My grandma died later that year, but she was an orthodox Jew and so there was no “viewing.” I looked into Bob’s casket, and there was a waxy pale skinny figure. I turned to my friend who had come with me and said, “That’s not Bob.” Bob was tan, full figured, strong – not like what was in the coffin.

On today’s daf we read the continuation of a debate about if one Kohen dies, can the second Kohen who takes his place use the same blood of sacrifice that the first was going to use? The question the rabbis need to settle is – when is a bull considered a bull? Is it only when it’s alive? When the entire carcass is there? When it still has blood?

Rabbi Yitzḥak Nappaḥa raised an objection to Rabbi Ami: “And he shall remove the entire bull outside the camp” (Leviticus 4:12). This verse speaks of a bull that has been slaughtered and its fats and sacrificial parts have been burned, which proves that even after it has been slaughtered, it is still called a bull. Rabbi Ami replied: The animal itself is not called a bull at this stage; rather, it means that he should remove the entire carcass, all that remains of the bull.

The Gemara raises another difficulty by citing a verse: “And the bull of the sin-offering and the goat of the sin-offering, whose blood was brought in to make atonement in the Sanctuary, shall be taken outside the camp” (Leviticus 16:27). Once again, the verse proves that even after it has been slaughtered and its blood is brought into the Holy of Holies, the animal is still called a bull. Rav Pappa said: Everyone agrees that when it is intact, with its hide, its flesh, and its excrement, it is called a bull. When they disagree is with regard to the blood. One Sage holds that its blood is called a bull, and one Sage holds that blood alone is not called a bull.

When does the self leave? I have now seen many bodies after the soul has left them. But I’ll never forget the first.

A woman came over to me, “Are you Rachel?” It was Bob’s wife. She told me that Bob had told her how he was training me for the Olympics, how it meant a lot to her that I had come, how the cancer had ate away at him, how that was really him in the casket.

After seeing so many soulless bodies, I can tell you, that yes – the body still needs to be looked after and taken care of as it was and is a holy vessel – but after the soul has left, it’s not that person anymore. We still may call the body by the name of the person, but it’s not them. The soul has left its shell and what’s left in the shell is just the memory of what it once contained.

Today’s gem is a little lesson on what it means to be a good student, and a good teacher:

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi raised a dilemma: If the High Priest scooped and died, what is the halakha with regard to the possibility that another High Priest may replace him and enter with his handful? May the second priest enter the Holy of Holies with the incense that the first priest scooped, or must he start from the beginning of the process? Rabbi Ḥanina said to his students in excitement: Come and see that Sages from a later generation were able to ask a difficult question on par with the question of the earlier generations!

Why is this my gem? There seems to be some kind of stump the teacher moment happening; Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi asks a really good question. His teacher, Rabbi Hanina, is so excited that his student has asked the same question he once asked – and that their question was also asked by those who have come before them.

Asking good question, questions that do not have easy answers, questions that last generations – this is the sign of a really good student. And the sign of a really good teacher is one who gets excited when their students are asking big, difficult questions that the teacher may not be able to answer.

I hope you make space in your day to ask the big questions.