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

Today’s gem is one of my favorite stories about Hillel. Hillel, a brilliant scholar, was very poor. He had every excuse not to study Torah, but he did not let poverty stand in his way:

They said about Hillel the Elder that each and every day he would work and earn a half-dinar, half of which he would give to the guard of the study hall and half of which he spent for his sustenance and the sustenance of the members of his family. One time he did not find employment to earn a wage, and the guard of the study hall did not allow him to enter. He ascended to the roof, suspended himself, and sat at the edge of the skylight in order to hear the words of the Torah of the living God from the mouths of Shemaya and Avtalyon, the spiritual leaders of that generation.

The Sages continued and said: That day was Shabbat eve and it was the winter season of Tevet, and snow fell upon him from the sky. When it was dawn, Shemaya said to Avtalyon: Avtalyon, my brother, every day at this hour the study hall is already bright from the sunlight streaming through the skylight, and today it is dark; is it perhaps a cloudy day? They focused their eyes and saw the image of a man in the skylight. They ascended and found him covered with snow three cubits high. They extricated him from the snow, and they washed him and smeared oil on him, and they sat him opposite the bonfire to warm him. They said: This man is worthy for us to desecrate Shabbat for him.

Love this story. What it teaches about Hillel, perseverance, pursuing knowledge, not letting your economics stand in the way of your calling – is profound. It also shows a weakness in the education system – what does it say about these great study halls and their ability to live the values they are teaching if Hillel has to watch through a skylight on a winter day in order to learn?

I look at the cost of University education and wonder why it is that we, as a society, still perpetuate this model (that the Gemara realizes is a problem and changes with the change of rosh yeshiva) where only the wealthy can come and learn . . . while those who are not wealthy who find a way risk their lives (for Hillel with frost bite, for our students today, with crushing debt).

If poverty cannot be an excuse not to be educated, then we all have an obligation to work towards a society where education is open to all.

Here is to hot baths!

If the High Priest was old or delicate, they would heat hot water for him on Yom Kippur eve and place it into the cold water of the ritual bath in order to temper its chill. It was taught in a baraita that Rabbi Yehuda said: They would heat blocks of iron on Yom Kippur eve and cast them into the cold water of the ritual bath to temper its chill.

Now, this is how to forge iron, and so that becomes a bit of a debate as you are not supposed to forge iron on Yom Kippur (don’t worry, the end ruling is that it’s not heated to the point of moulding and that the rule is rabbinic anyway so the High Priest gets a warm bath) but the final rule is that the High Priest can have a nice warm bath.

There is something magical about a warm bath. You muscles relax. You soak. Something that usually happens hurriedly – bathing – suddenly takes on a therapeutic slant. You not only wash off the dirt you carry on your skin, but some of the worry on your shoulders and the pain in your heart.

And maybe that is also something the High Priest needs.

Abaye arranged the sequence of the daily services in the Temple based on tradition and in accordance with the opinion of Abba Shaul:

And so our daf today proceeds to discuss the order of things, from donning tefillin, to setting up logs, to cleaning ashes.

Order matters. When my oldest son was little I learned this well, if we did the night time routine out of order – he couldn’t sleep. So too we need order in our lives. Order helps us to feel safe, to not miss steps and to elevate the mundane into the holy.

Right now feels chaotic. Here is to praying for more holiness, peace, and order.

I was (and am) a huge Madonna fan growing up. I remember watching her Blond Ambition tour on VHS over and over. One of the coolest things she did, that is now copied by so many artists, was her costume change. Mid-concert, she would suddenly appear in a different outfit! Well, I thought she was the O.G. costume changer – but it turns out the High Priest was:

And they are five services: The sacrifice of the daily morning offering, performed in golden garments; the service of the day, the sacrifice of the bull and the goat, which is performed in white garments; the sacrifice of his ram guilt-offering and the ram of the people in golden garments. After that he removes the spoon and the coal pan from the Holy of Holies in white garments.He emerges from the Holy of Holies and sacrifices the daily afternoon offering in golden garments.

That’s right, 5 costume changes! That’s impressive.

But a bigger lesson we can learn from this is about how the proper outer attire can help us to feel the proper inner spirituality.

Many Jews buy new clothes for the High Holy Days, and while this may sound materialistic, it doesn’t have to be – it can be really spiritual if we are dressing for God and wanting to look good as we stand in judgement before God instead of dressing to impress our neighbors in the pews.

There is also a tradition to wear white at the end of Yom Kippur. The white we don on the outside is there to reflect our souls which have been cleansed by the t’shuvah work we have done.

The costume change is not just a costume change, but a reflection of the changes we have spiritually undergone. (While could be compared to Madonna’s costume change when she goes into her kabbalistic work . . . but that might be stretching it.)

We can be sure, but still leave space that we might (however unlikely) be wrong. That’s my gem from today’s page that comes right from Rav Papa (and yes, his name sounds like a 90s rapper):

The Sages said to Rav Pappa: And how can you say that according to Rabbi Meir the first time that the High Priest dons the garments he does not require two sanctifications? Wasn’t it taught in a baraita as follows? They spread a sheet of fine linen between him and the people, and he removed his garments and descended and immersed, and he ascended and dried himself. They brought him golden garments, and he donned them, and he sanctified his hands and his feet. Rabbi Meir says: He removed his garments and sanctified his hands and his feet and descended and immersed. He ascended and dried himself. They brought him golden garments and he donned them and sanctified his hands and his feet. Apparently, Rabbi Meir maintains that there is a special sanctification prior to donning the garments.

And here’s the line I love: He said to them: If it was taught, it was taught.

Rav Papa is saying, “I will retract my opinion, which was based on logical analysis, in favor of an explicit baraita that contradicts that opinion.” I reasoned really well, but if I’m wrong, I’m wrong.

How can we live life in this space? Holding opinions that are backed up by knowledge, but ready to let them go if faced with facts that point otherwise? Wouldn’t our world be so much better if we were all strong in our beliefs but open to being wrong and changing our ways like Rav Papa?

Being from Indiana, if people went “away” to college, it was usually either to Indiana University or Purdue (both great school by the way). I remember hearing this joke as a child: Two college boys walk into the mens room and use the urinal. The student from Purdue heads towards the door while the student from IU heads to the sink to wash his hands. “At IU they teach us to wash our hands after we urinate,” says the IU student. The Purdue student responds, “At Purdue they teach us not to pee on our hands.”

Today’s daf is much grosser than that joke. It is all about the need to wash you hands after you urinate because you need to use your hands to wipe pee off your legs (this sees to be a common occurrence) – lest people believe you have a severed penis and someone else fathered your children.

Then, it gets even more gross with the potty talk as it goes into excrement being stuck to your anus.

The gem? Wash your hands, even if you don’t think you have anything on them.

Now, if this kind of thing turns your stomach – stop reading. If it doesn’t, enjoy the text:

Granted, one who urinates is required to sanctify his feet, due to drops of urine that drip on his feet. However, with regard to his hands, what is the reason that he is required to sanctify them? His hands did not come into contact with anything filthy (It’s the student form Purdue!!!). Rabbi Abba said: That is to say that one learns appropriate conduct from this, namely it is a mitzva to brush the drops of urine from one’s legs so that they cannot be seen. Since one rubs it with his hands, his hands require sanctification as well. The Gemara comments: This supports the opinion of Rabbi Ami, as Rabbi Ami said: It is prohibited for a man to go out with the drops of urine that are on his legs, because he appears as one whose penis has been severed. A man with that condition is incapable of fathering children. People who see urine on his legs might suspect that he is suffering from that condition and spread rumors about his children that they are mamzerim. Therefore, one must be certain to brush the drops of urine from his legs.

Apropos the above discussion the Gemara cites that Rav Pappa said: For one with excrement in its place, in the anus, it is prohibited to recite Shema until he removes it. What are the circumstances? If it is excrement that is visible, it is obvious that he cannot recite Shema, as there is excrement on his skin. If it is excrement that is not visible, and it is inside his body, how can Rav Pappa rule that he may not recite Shema? The Torah was not given to the ministering angels, and one’s body cannot be totally free of excrement. The Gemara answers: No, it is necessary to prohibit the recitation of Shema only in a situation where when he is sitting it is visible, and when he is standing it is not visible.

The Gemara asks: If so, in what way is that different from excrement on his flesh? As it was stated in a case where one has excrement on his flesh or that his hands were placed into a bathroom that Rav Huna said: It is nevertheless permitted to recite Shema. And Rav Ḥisda said: It is prohibited to recite Shema in those cases. The Gemara rejects this: The situations are not comparable. There is no dispute that excrement in its place is more severe, as in the anus the filth is great because it is new and malodorous. And if it is not in its place, its filth is not great, as it is dried and less malodorous. It is with regard to that situation that there is an amoraic dispute.

The Gemara proceeds to discuss a related topic. The Sages taught a halakha with regard to a meal in a baraita: A person who exits a meal to urinate washes one of his hands, the one that he used to brush off drops of urine, and enters to resume the meal. If one left, spoke with another, and lingered outside, he washes both of his hands and enters to resume the meal. Presumably, during the lengthy conversation he was distracted from maintaining the cleanliness of his hands, requiring him to wash his hands again. And when one washes his hands for the meal he should not wash them outside and then enter, due to the concern that doing so will arouse suspicion that he did not wash his hands. Rather, he enters and sits in his place and washes both his hands, and returns the jug of water to pass among the guests and ask if anyone requires water, to make certain that everyone is aware that he washed his hands.

Rav Ḥisda said: We said this principle with regard to making certain that one washes his hands in public only when he enters to drink; however, if he enters and intends to eat he may even wash his hands outside and enter. Why is this so? It is because it is well known that he is fastidious and would not handle food without cleaning urine and the like off his hands. Rav Naḥman bar Yitzḥak said: And I can even wash my hands outside when I intend only to drink, because they know that I am fastidious and that I certainly washed my hands before I entered to eat.

More gems kick off the page:

Thoughts of transgression are worse than transgression itself, and your mnemonic is the odor of meat. The smell of roasting meat is more appetizing than actually eating the meat. How true! The fantasy is so often better than the reality. In fantasy world, there are no bills, no distractions, no “life getting in the way” . . . I love the idea of it smelling better than it tastes.

The heat of the end of summer is more oppressive than the heat of the summer itself, and your mnemonic is a heated oven. After an oven has been heated several times in the course of a day, lighting it again, even slightly, will produce powerful heat. So too, at the end of the summer, since everything is hot, the heat is more oppressive. Also very true! (This happens in my toaster all the time. . . and in Miami.)

A fever in the winter is more powerful than a fever in the summer, and your mnemonic is a cold oven. Heating a cold oven requires greater heat than heating a hot oven. A fever that succeeds in raising the body temperature in the winter must be more powerful than a fever that raises the body temperature in the summer. (This is interesting because, now, do to Covid, we take temperatures all the time, but it turns out our natural temp. is not universal and is most likely lower than 98 degrees.)

Relearning old material that was known and forgotten is more difficult than learning from new material. And your mnemonic is mixing mortar from mortar. It is harder to take hardened mortar, crush it, and mix new mortar than it is to simply mix new mortar. I love this as someone who is always trying to learn – it does get harder. It’s not impossible, but wow is it a struggle. But, hopefully, if we keep trying to learn our whole lives, our brains will remain more pliable than the mortar metaphor.

MISHNA:The appointed priest said to the other priests: Go out and observe if it is day and the time for slaughter has arrived. If the time has arrived, the observer says: There is light [barkai]. Matya ben Shmuel says that the appointed priest phrased his question differently: Is the entire eastern sky illuminated even to Hebron? And the observer says: Yes. And why did they need to ascertain whether or not it is day, which is typically evident to all? It was necessary, as once, the light of the moon rose, and they imagined that the eastern sky was illuminated with sunlight, and they slaughtered the daily offering. . .

First, how romantic – a moon so full that you think it’s day light.

But that’s not what today’s daf is about, it’s about how to tell if it’s really day (with some fun asides). We also get a little science. We are told Abraham was a master at astronomy, and we are also told something a lot fo Floridians know: that you can get a LOT of sun on cloudy day.

The Gemara asks: And are sunlight and moonlight mistaken for one another? Wasn’t it taught in a baraita that Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi says: A column of the light of the moon is not similar to a column of the light of the sun; a column of the light of the moon rises like a staff in one column while a column of the light of the sun diffuses to here and to there? The Gemara answers that the school of Rabbi Yishmael taught: It was a cloudy day, and then even the moonlight diffuses to here and to there, which caused them to err and believe that it was the rising sun. Rav Pappa said: Learn from this statement of Rabbi Yishmael that a cloudy day is similar to a completely sunny day because the sunlight is further diffused by the clouds. . .

Apropos a cloudy day, the Gemara cites that Rav Naḥman said: The hazy light of the sun through the clouds is more damaging than the light of the sun itself.

And now we get some gems (besides the gem that we should wear sunblock on cloudy days) in the ways the rabbis say we should remember this rule:

And your mnemonic is the cover of a jar of vinegar: What do they mean? Well, as anyone who uses vinegar knows, “as long as the jar is tightly closed, the odor of the vinegar does not spread and it intensifies. Even the slightest opening in the lid releases an odor more powerful than the odor generated by vinegar that was not sealed in a jar.” (It’s like a punch in the face.) The same is true with regard to the rays of the sun. With regard to sunlight that is obscured behind clouds, when it escapes through breaks in the clouds it is more powerful than direct sunlight. We also are told that Dazzling sunlight, which shines through cracks in the clouds, is more harmful to the eyes than direct sunlight. And your mnemonic is a drip; water that drips on a person is more bothersome than water in which one completely immerses his body.

Love these. Hope you do too.

Rabbi Asi said that Rabbi Yoḥanan said: A non-priest who set up the arrangement of wood on the altar is liable to receive the death penalty by God’s hand for having performed an act that is restricted to priests, and the woodpile that he placed is invalid.

Today’s daf focuses in on what services can be done by non-priests, and which, if done by a non-priest, will cause the offending non-priest to die.

I can’t stop thinking how this would make an amazing plot for a book or short story. So, indulge me and picture it: The pressure to have a son, but not just any son, a perfect son without defect so that he can serve in the Temple, was weighing on Rebecca. He sister had a child with birth defects, and was therefore unable to work in the Temple. But what is to be expected after generations of only marrying within the family? Most marriages being between cousins. Rebecca’s father is a Kohein, and therefore, she and her sister were expected to marry Kohein’s as well. And so she did. Rebecca has been married now for over a year, and still no child. Oh she wants a child! Someone to love, to care for, to sew priestly linen garments for . . . but Rebecca sees her sisters’ child, and how her sister loves him, yet her husband and father burn with shame . . . and she wonders if her barrenness is better than that – the possibility of having a child who is deemed unacceptable for the service he was created to perform.

But she would do it, risk it for a child to call her own. But years of inbreeding may have left her “perfect” husband steril. What is she to do?

What comes next can hardly be called an affair. It was more of a mothers choice to give her child the best chance at life and health. A boarder passing through town. One night, one moment really, never to be spoked about, or thought about, again. The joy on her husbands face as her belly grew. The joy on her fathers face when she delivered a son – a perfect baby boy – who would go to serve it the Temple.

Her joy at watching him grow would fill countless books, but it seemed like the blink of an eye, and he was old enough to serve in the Temple. She sewed for him beautiful linen garments. He began to serve in the Temple with his cousins – the other Kohenim. His father was so proud.

And then the day came when he was old enough to enter the lotteries – he threw his name and hopes into being selected to offer the sacrifices.

Rebecca knew. She was a daughter and wife of a kohein after all. She knew that if her son was selected to perform any of the slaughtering, any of the sprinkling, any of the collecting – that he would be killed by the hands of God. But what was she to say?

Honey, why not just see if you can have the honor of arranging the wood? Nothing can happen without the wood – it may be the most important of all the functions a priest can do. (Maybe then he will be safe.)

Will he listen? Will he be safe? Will he put his name into the lottery? Each day, she waits, terrified. Until . . .

Her husband comes home one night and tells her – there has been a terrible accident. Their son, her son, was arranging the wood and his britches caught fire. He suffered. Called out for his mom. Called out to his God. But his suffering has now ended . . .

He listened to his mother. He did everything right. He was perfect. And now, he’s gone.

Today’s daf deals primarily with how many priests are required for each sacrificial service in the temple and what the individuals assigned to a task do. The real gem of the page is an open conversation about work load and how many employees are required for a congregation (or ay business) to really do the work of their mission. How do we make sure our employees are doing meaningful work but not being burnt out?

But what I will paste is a funny/shocking aside that Rav Ashi brings as proof that the water libation is brought only in the morning service:

Rav Ashi said: We too have learned this in a different mishna, that the water libation was offered only in the morning, as it was taught: And they would say to the pourer: Raise your hand so everyone will see as you pour the water into the aperture on the altar, in accordance with the proper procedure. This was done because one time a Sadducee priest, who did not accept that there is a mitzva of water libation, poured the water onto his feet, whereupon all the people pelted him with their etrogim in anger. Since the episode involved etrogim, it is apparent that it took place in the morning, when people have their etrogim with them. Since the mishna mentions the fact that it was etrogim that were used to pelt the priest, it is apparently coming to teach that the water libation takes place only in the morning.

Hope you have a meaningful last day of the work week and get rest and renewal on Shabbat.